Chapter Seventeen: A Hasty Retreat

"I... I was just joking with you..." Chen Jianjun managed a smile that looked worse than a grimace.

Cheng Ziqiu crossed his arms, watching him with a look that was half-smile, half-scorn. "Mr. Chen, a joke? Isn't it a bit inappropriate to pull a stunt like this in front of Elder Chen?"

He emphasized the words "Elder Chen" deliberately, which only made Chen Jianjun more anxious.

Chen Jiwang’s expression was so dark it could have dripped ink. Though aged, he was far from senile. He had seen through Chen Jianjun’s petty schemes at a glance. He simply hadn't exploded on the spot for the sake of appearances. After all, this was his son, the heir to the family business; he couldn't afford to let them lose all face, nor could he lose his own dignity in front of everyone.

Chen Jiwang took a deep breath, his clouded eyes scanning the crowd before finally settling on his two sons. "Jianguo, Jianjun... you have disappointed me deeply."

Chen Jianguo and Chen Jianjun stood with their heads hung low, not daring to let out a breath. Jianguo was slightly better off, having merely followed along, but Jianjun felt like he wanted to crawl into a crack in the floor. The trap he had set hadn't earned him any favor with Chen Jiwang; instead, it had turned him into an absolute laughingstock.

"This... counterfeit," Chen Jiwang said, pointing at the painting Cheng Ziqiu had torn apart, his teeth gritted. "And all those other pieces of junk—get them out of here! Don't sully my house with them!"

"Dad..." Chen Jianjun tried to explain, but a sharp, piercing glare from Chen Jiwang silenced him.

"Don't call me Dad! I can't afford the shame of having a son like you!" Chen Jiwang slammed his hand against the table so hard that the water in his teacup splashed out. "Both of you, now—get out! Immediately!"

Chen Jianjun clutched the ruined "authentic Tang Bohu" tightly, the jagged edges of the silk cutting into his palms. He glared at Cheng Ziqiu, teeth clenched. "Kid, you just wait! This isn't over!"

Chen Jianguo chimed in, shouting with empty threats, "Don't get cocky, boy! The world is round, and we’ll see who has the last laugh!"

Cheng Ziqiu folded his arms, looking at the two brothers with a playful smirk. "Oh? Are we making threats now? Too bad your threats sound like the buzzing of mosquitoes—absolutely no bite to them. Oh, and by the way, remember to frame this 'masterpiece' when you get home and hang it by your bed to ward off evil spirits. Maybe you'll even dream of Tang Bohu himself."

Chen Jianjun and Chen Jianguo were so furious their faces turned green. They clenched their fists, itching to rush forward and beat Cheng Ziqiu to a pulp. But the warning in Chen Jiwang’s eyes was like two blades digging into their hearts, forcing them to swallow their anger.

"Are you not leaving yet?" Chen Jiwang roared, making them both flinch.

With their tails tucked between their legs, they fled in disgrace under the gloating gazes of the crowd.

Once they were gone, the atmosphere in the room lightened considerably. Chen Jiwang’s gloomy expression smoothed out, and he seemed to regain his vitality. He looked Cheng Ziqiu up and down, his aged eyes full of admiration.

"Young man, not bad. You have courage and a keen eye," Chen Jiwang said, gently patting Cheng Ziqiu on the shoulder. "There aren't many young people left with real talent who aren't ostentatious."

Cheng Ziqiu smiled modestly. "You flatter me, Elder Chen. I only did what needed to be done."

"Don't be humble," Chen Jiwang waved a hand. "Churan is smart and capable, but she is young and lacks experience. From now on, you should assist her closely. You two can discuss things whenever they arise."

"Dad, I understand," Chen Churan replied from the side, though her eyes drifted toward Cheng Ziqiu, her face flushing slightly.

Cheng Ziqiu nodded. "I will, Elder Chen."

Chen Jiwang smiled in satisfaction, exchanged a few more pleasantries with Cheng Ziqiu, and then stood up to leave.

Only Cheng Ziqiu and Chen Churan remained at the table. The atmosphere grew subtle.

"Thank you... for today," Chen Churan said, her voice soft as a whisper.

Cheng Ziqiu scratched his head and laughed. "It was just a small effort, don't worry about it. Besides, I couldn't stand the look on those two guys' faces anyway."

"Regardless, I still have to thank you," Chen Churan insisted. "If it weren't for you, I'm afraid today would have..." She didn't finish, but Cheng Ziqiu understood exactly what she meant.

Cheng Ziqiu poured her a glass of wine with a cheeky grin. "Boss Chen, don't be so polite. It’s my job! You’re my boss; if you're in trouble, I’d naturally go through fire and water for you! Besides, this involved treasure appraisal—it’s my line of work, so I have to take it seriously. It’s a matter of principle!"

He emphasized the word "principle" with exaggerated seriousness, thumping his chest for effect. Chen Churan couldn't help but laugh at his comical display.

They ate and chatted, the mood gradually becoming more relaxed. Chen Churan discovered that not only was Cheng Ziqiu’s appraisal skill top-tier, but he was also humorous and witty, not at all the stiff, old-fashioned person she had imagined. She even started to wonder if this guy really was a tomb robber in his past life, or if he had perhaps wandered out of a stand-up comedy show.

...

As the banquet drew to a close, Chen Churan thanked him again and asked, somewhat shyly, "Do you need a ride?"

Cheng Ziqiu waved his hand, flashing a roguish smile. "No, no, Boss Chen. I’ll just grab a taxi. If you stepped into my beat-up cab, the driver would stomp on the gas until the engine smoked, and I couldn't afford that sky-high fare."

Chen Churan was amused by his glib tongue, her eyes sparkling with a thousand charms. "You're full of nonsense! All right, get home safe."

Cheng Ziqiu winked at her. "As you command, my beautiful boss."

With that, he turned and melted into the night, leaving Chen Churan with a dashing silhouette. She stood there, watching the direction he had disappeared in, a ripple forming in her heart. This man was quite interesting... unlike those bootlickers, he actually had some real ability. And that cheeky, smiling expression of his was actually quite... cute?

She shook her head, dismissing the messy thoughts, and turned back toward the banquet hall.

...

The taxi stopped at the entrance of Cheng Ziqiu’s dilapidated apartment complex. The driver tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Hey buddy, we're here. Wake up!"

Cheng Ziqiu opened his eyes groggily, rubbed his sleepy face, and pulled a few crumpled bills from his pocket to hand over. "Thanks, driver."

Once inside, Cheng Ziqiu didn't even take off his shoes before collapsing onto the bed. The soft mattress felt like a gentle embrace, instantly soothing his exhausted body. He let out a long sigh, feeling as though his bones were about to fall apart.

"The world of the wealthy is truly damn complicated..." he muttered, feeling more drained than he did after raiding a tomb. At least tombs were quiet, unlike these banquets full of schemes and backstabbing.

Thinking about work the next day, he let out a mournful groan. "Working life, the soul of a worker—life is truly bitter for the working class!"