Chapter Eighteen: The Best Things Are Those We Cannot Obtain

Sun Tianzhi instructed his men to take some folding chairs from the car, handing them out to Mr. Wang, Zhang Can, Ma Dong, Chen Xingguo, and Zhu Senlin. Platters of roast beef were served in abundance.

Mr. Wang sipped his Martell brandy, while Ma Dong and the others praised the taste and texture, all except Zhang Can, who seemed unimpressed. He was neither fond of cigarettes nor alcohol; to be frank, even the finest liquor tasted no different to him than the cheap homebrew sold for three yuan a kilo in the countryside.

A few drinks and several plates of roast meat warmed the atmosphere. Mr. Wang, smiling broadly, turned his head and asked Zhang Can, “Young Zhang, are you working at Mr. Zhu’s shop now?”

Zhang Can glanced indifferently at Zhu Senlin and Old Su. Hearing Mr. Wang’s words, Zhu Senlin visibly tensed; Mr. Wang was openly extending an olive branch to Zhang Can. As for Old Su, he neither wanted Zhang Can to be poached by Mr. Wang nor to remain at Old Zhu’s Stone Studio—his heart was filled with resentment toward Zhang Can.

Originally, when they set up a trap for Zhang Can, Old Su’s motives were greed and a dismissive attitude. He’d never taken Zhang Can seriously, thinking he could manipulate such a naive youth with ease. That day, seeing Zhang Can realize he'd been duped, the anguish and despair on his face had been genuine. Based on his three years of acquaintance, Old Su believed that this blow would completely sink Zhang Can, rendering him incapable of recovery. What he didn’t expect was that just two days later, Zhang Can appeared before him again—and this time, Zhang Can had inexplicably stumbled upon the kind of fortune they all dreamed of.

When Zhang Can found Yu Ji’s painting, Old Su was so jealous he could barely sleep. Today, to his surprise, Zhang Can struck gold again with a million-yuan ivory micro-carving. His eyes were nearly bloodshot with envy. Think about it: decades of hard-earned savings amounted to only two million, while this annoying fellow had netted over six hundred thousand in a matter of days—far surpassing Old Su’s lifetime achievements. Zhang Can seemed blessed by luck, resurrected from the brink of ruin in mere days, his fortune so extraordinary that Old Su could hardly believe it.

Old Su had spent over three years alongside Zhang Can and knew his abilities well. Almost all of Zhang Can’s skills were learned from him. Of course, Old Su had never passed on certain critical appraisal techniques; Zhang Can’s knowledge was limited to the basics. Thus, Old Su was convinced that Zhang Can was merely lucky, not truly skilled.

But when Mr. Wang invited them to appraise the pendant, even Old Su was puzzled. This piece couldn’t be handled by luck alone—he had tested it himself, and so had several master appraisers, including Master Zhao, whose expertise surpassed even his own. None had identified it, yet Zhang Can did. This was the most baffling part.

Could it be that Zhang Can had been hiding his true abilities all along?

No, absolutely not!

Old Su immediately dismissed the thought. Over those three years, he’d seen Zhang Can tirelessly chasing small profits of tens or hundreds a day, living off hard-earned money. When he first arrived in Jin City, Zhang Can was so poor he could only afford one boxed meal a day. If he possessed such profound skills, why would he torment himself like this? No one would willingly endure such hardship; that’s not humility or playing dumb, that’s true incompetence. A pig in the countryside remains a pig in Jin City, and even in the capital, it wouldn’t become a tiger. So Old Su’s mind was set: Zhang Can lacked the ability. Yet, the pendant incident left him uncertain, as if there was something about Zhang Can he couldn’t quite grasp.

Lost in thought, Zhang Can looked up to find Mr. Wang watching him. He quickly replied, “Mr. Wang, I’m a free agent. I’ve been in Jin City for over three years, making a living with small antiques and jade trades. Most of my wares end up in Mr. Zhu’s shop, so you could say I’m under Mr. Zhu’s wing.”

Zhu Senlin promptly chimed in, “Yes, yes! I’ve always thought young Zhang was a good person, so I’ve tried to look after him. I originally wanted him to work in my shop, but things got delayed these past few days, and I never had a chance to bring it up. Now that Mr. Wang asks, I’ll say it outright: Zhang, stop taking odd jobs and working freelance. Come work at my shop. Annual salary of one million, plus a share of the profits!”

Pressed by Mr. Wang’s momentum, Zhu Senlin gritted his teeth and offered an annual salary of one million—a sky-high figure for him, equal to the shop’s yearly net profit. If Zhang Can failed to deliver results, Zhu would have to pay out of his own pocket. This was no small investment; Zhu was being sincere.

Old Su’s face turned green with envy. After so many years working for Zhu Senlin, his annual salary barely passed one hundred thousand, and with bonuses, he might earn up to two hundred thousand at most. Now Zhu Senlin was offering Zhang Can a million a year—how could Old Su accept this? Moreover, if Zhang Can joined the shop, what position would Old Su occupy in the future?

Zhang Can appeared unfazed, but inwardly he was delighted. The more interested Old Zhu was in him, the more confident he felt about laying a trap for Old Su. Setting up a scheme that Old Su would willingly step into, without realizing, would not be easy.

“Mr. Zhu, ha, your offer is already quite generous. I have no complaints, so…” Zhang Can feigned delight as he replied. Since Old Zhu had given him this opportunity, he would seize it. Staying close to Old Su would make him increasingly uncomfortable or even suffer; over time, Zhang Can could better spot Old Su’s weaknesses and set an infallible trap.

“Wait, let me speak,” Mr. Wang suddenly interrupted Zhang Can. “Young Zhang, Mr. Zhu, a talent like Zhang Can can’t be limited by a mere million…”

Mr. Wang turned to Master Zhao and said, “Master Zhao, tell us—what’s your annual salary?”

Master Zhao was momentarily stunned, not quite processing the question, but he dared not refuse Mr. Wang. He nodded, “My annual salary is three hundred and fifty thousand, plus bonuses.”

Three hundred and fifty thousand—a staggering amount, rivaling the income of executives at major companies. The senior appraisers at Ma Qian and Chen Xingguo’s shops earned only fifty thousand per year; with other income, their yearly earnings might reach a million, but still far less than Master Zhao’s.

Among them, Old Su was the most embarrassed, having the lowest income and greatest frustration. He wasn’t upset that the others made more—after all, they were more capable—but now even Zhang Can had leapfrogged him, which was unbearable.

Mr. Wang smiled faintly, patting Zhang Can’s shoulder. “Young Zhang, you know, in today’s society, the most respected are those with ability. The most valuable are those with ability. With your skills, I won’t say much more. I’ll offer you a million annual salary, plus a share of the profits. What do you think? Are you interested?”

His tone was a question, but he spoke with confidence; the price he offered would tempt anyone present.

A million a year left everyone stunned.

Even Zhang Can himself trembled slightly. To say he wasn’t tempted would be a lie, but he quickly regained his composure, reminding himself not to panic or act rashly. Mr. Wang’s offer was indeed generous and alluring, but what did Zhang Can really know about Mr. Wang? Perhaps he was just another antique dealer like Zhu Senlin, or perhaps he was involved in the underworld. If so, it didn’t matter if he offered a million or even a hundred million—without guarantees, following such a man could mean earning money but not living to spend it. Such risks weren’t worth taking. Besides, Zhang Can’s primary goal was revenge. Though he had recouped the thirty thousand many times over, he couldn’t rest until his grievance was avenged; this hatred was his driving force.

His mind raced. If he accepted Mr. Wang’s offer now, revenge against Old Su would be much harder. Deep down, he didn’t trust or feel comfortable with Mr. Wang. Moreover, possessing the ability to see through things with his unique vision, and after recent events, Zhang Can was more confident than ever. What others couldn’t accomplish, he could. He wouldn’t go back to struggling for mere survival, but nor would he chase money blindly.

Looking at Zhu Senlin and Old Su, Old Su was clearly envious, jealous, and resentful, while Zhu Senlin was somewhat deflated. Even a fool would know to accept Mr. Wang’s offer; Zhang Can was no fool.

After pondering for a while, Zhang Can slowly said, “Mr. Wang, I… have to thank you for your kindness. I think I’ll help Old Zhu for now. He’s always looked after me these past years, and a person shouldn’t forget their roots. I want to work for Old Zhu.”

“Oh…”

Mr. Wang was left speechless, as were the seven or eight others present. From the moment Zhang Can discovered the ivory micro-carving, he had caught their attention. Then, he alone uncovered the secret of Mr. Wang’s pendant—a feat of real skill. Zhang Can’s performance had seemed unfathomable. Yet, faced with a million and then ten million annual salaries, he chose the million. Had he lost his mind?

Zhu Senlin was dazed for a moment before realizing that Zhang Can had chosen him.

“Hahaha… Young Zhang, good, good, but…” Zhu Senlin was overjoyed, laughing uncontrollably. Only after a while did he manage to stop and stammer to Mr. Wang, “Mr… Mr. Wang, I really am… am sorry…”

Mr. Wang was stunned, then looked again at the calm Zhang Can, growing increasingly curious. After a long pause, he finally smiled. “Very well, since Young Zhang made his choice, I must respect it. I like people who honor the past, very good!”

Though he spoke cheerfully, there was a faint disappointment in his eyes. No matter the circumstance or the person, what one cannot obtain always seems best.