Chapter Seven: The First Million in Life

A double layer was truly revealed!

Old Su’s heart skipped a beat. To be honest, the paper itself was quite thin, and didn’t seem to have a double layer, but judging by his experience, though the artwork on the surface was rather crude, the craftsmanship involved in making the double layer was exceptionally refined. This made him reconsider: with such skillful technique applied to create a double-layered paper, it was highly unlikely to be some worthless trinket!

Old Su’s expertise was considerable. As soon as the double layer became apparent, he immediately used his practiced hands to carefully peel it apart. After exposing an area of over ten centimeters, a scene of ancient style and flavor was revealed, the brushwork powerful and robust, in a manner worlds apart from the superficial layer above—a difference as great as heaven and earth.

Old Su’s heart pounded wildly. Even with just this small section in view, he estimated that this was very likely a genuine piece by Yu Ji; otherwise, a master of such skill would not have gone to such lengths to mount and conceal it. Since it was hidden, it must have value.

Yet, Old Su couldn’t help but wish it weren’t genuine. After all, this was something he had just rejected, but now it had fallen into the hands of Zhang Can, who was far less skilled than himself. That was a hard pill to swallow, especially with Boss Zhu Senlin present to witness it—it was bound to be awkward.

But once the entire surface layer was removed, what emerged was an artwork of ancient simplicity and profound atmosphere.

It was a landscape and bird-and-flower painting. Old Su, with a ninety-nine percent certainty from just a glance, estimated this to be an authentic Yu Ji, and, more than that, one of Yu Ji’s late-period works. In the top right corner were the characters “Autumn Mountains, Autumn Scene,” and in the lower left the inscription “Autumn Studio Recluse”—Yu Ji’s sobriquet, unmistakably.

Old Su scrutinized the painting for a long while, then brought up images of Yu Ji’s publicly known works on his computer for comparison. It bore strong resemblance to his early works, but the brushwork was even more refined; compared with his later pieces, it matched both in form and spirit. He compared the inscription “Autumn Studio Recluse” with great care.

After this period of appraisal, Old Su was both envious and regretful. This was definitely an authentic Yu Ji, a hundred percent certain, and one of his finest late works. How could he have missed it?

What stung most was that he had declined this painting, while Zhang Can accepted it in front of everyone. If word got out, his reputation would take a blow, and his standing would be compromised!

Boss Zhu Senlin of Stone Studio also sensed something amiss and leaned in to examine the painting.

Though Zhu Senlin’s expertise was a notch below Old Su’s, he’d been in the trade for decades. As the owner, hiring a few skilled hands was enough, but he himself knew the importance of understanding the business. At a glance, he could see that the painting beneath was utterly different from what was visible before. He knew something was up.

At this moment, Old Su, magnifying glass in hand, was slowly examining the painting, though in truth his mind was elsewhere. His expression, however, gave nothing away. After a while, he finally looked up and said to Zhang Can, in a casual tone, “It’s a layered painting, but its quality is average. You might make a bit of errand money from it.”

In the past, the old Zhang Can would have been fooled by Old Su’s expression, but after having already used his black-and-white vision for authentication, Zhang Can was not about to be taken in. He kept a close eye on Old Su’s subtle expressions; although Old Su’s face remained calm, his fingers trembled ever so slightly, and a faint, secret joy flickered in his eyes.

Zhang Can caught these minute details perfectly. Since Old Su wanted to take advantage of Zhang Can’s find, Zhang Can was determined to test him today. Revenge could wait; for now, venting his frustration would suffice.

“Heh, just errand money?”

Zhang Can smiled faintly, unhurried as he spoke. “Perhaps. Let’s say it’s just errand money. But since Boss Zhu is here, and Old Su, you’re practically my mentor, I’ll offer it to you first. If you don’t want it, I’ll sell it to another shop. This is an authentic Yu Ji, after all.”

The moment Zhang Can spoke, Old Su frowned deeply. This didn’t seem like the Zhang Can he knew. Could he be aware of the painting’s secret? That couldn’t be; he’d known Zhang Can for over three years, since the latter entered the business. Nearly all of Zhang Can’s knowledge and experience came from him—how could Zhang Can possibly see through something that he himself almost missed?

But if it wasn’t an act, what was Zhang Can’s meaning? If he called it an authentic Yu Ji, could it possibly be mere errand money?

Originally, Old Su had planned to buy the painting off Zhang Can for three or four hundred yuan, a thousand at most. But upon hearing Zhang Can’s words, he realized it wouldn’t be so easy. It seemed Zhang Can had caught on.

Zhu Senlin was also taken aback by Zhang Can’s statement and sneaked a glance at Old Su, catching the flicker at the corner of Old Su’s eye. Instantly, he realized something was off—Old Su’s fleeting expression revealed the painting was anything but ordinary!

“Well… Xiao Zhang, heh…”

Zhu Senlin, ever the sly old fox, immediately put on a beaming smile and said, “Xiao Zhang, come now, we’re all friends here. Is there any need to haggle? Old Su, why don’t you name a fair price? Don’t shortchange Xiao Zhang…”

Old Su frowned again. Clearly, Zhu Senlin had figured out the painting was valuable. It would be difficult to quietly sweep this under the rug. Zhang Can had already said that if they didn’t want it, he’d take it elsewhere. But in Jincheng’s antique market, who didn’t know one another? Any rumor, no matter how small, would be all over town by the next day—who picked up a rare find, who landed a treasure…

If Zhu Senlin found out later, Old Su knew there’d be trouble. Zhang Can had explicitly offered it to them first in front of everyone; if Old Su refused, it would be on his head!

Old Su cursed inwardly—when had this little rascal grown so shrewd? And he just couldn’t fathom how Zhang Can had spotted what he himself missed. Had the seller conspired with Zhang Can to put on a show for him, just as he’d roped in He Fugui to try and trick Zhang Can?

No, that couldn’t be. The painting was real, the Yuhuchun vase was fake—the two couldn’t be compared. Besides, coincidences like that were rare.

After a moment’s pause, Old Su looked up and saw Zhu Senlin staring at him, eyes wide. He thought for a bit and finally said, “Well, Xiao Zhang, we’ll do you a favor and take it off your hands at a loss. What price do you have in mind?”

Old fox!

Zhang Can cursed silently but kept smiling. Old Su’s craftiness was laid bare, but that was the nature of the business—especially in this trade—and there was nothing to be said about it. However, Old Su’s collusion with He Fugui and the others to cheat him, nearly driving him to despair, that was a mortal grudge.

But Zhang Can was in no rush for revenge; the time wasn’t ripe. If he confronted Old Su openly now, it would only alarm him. He had to lure Old Su into the depths of despair, make him taste the hopelessness that had once driven Zhang Can to the brink. Only then would he be satisfied.

“One thousand? Heh…” Zhang Can drawled, then said slowly, “Add two zeros to that.”

“What?!”

Both Zhu Senlin and Old Su jumped up in shock!

But their reactions were entirely different. Zhu Senlin had no idea of the painting’s true value; only after a moment did he realize that adding two zeros to ten thousand made it a million—a million! For ordinary people, this was not a number to be casually named. Though outsiders might think any old bowl or dish was worth millions, in reality, items over a hundred thousand were rare, and those who owned such treasures kept them hidden. In the market, the best things fetched only tens of thousands, rarely over a hundred thousand. Zhang Can’s quote of a million—was he showing off, or was he delirious?

Old Su, however, understood perfectly. This painting was worth at least a million, perhaps as much as one and a half million if handled well, though after various expenses, the profit would be at most two hundred thousand. Zhang Can’s asking price was already the painting’s peak value!

Old Su was both surprised and aggrieved. Did Zhang Can really know the value, or was he bluffing? If he was bluffing, it didn’t seem so; but if he truly knew, that was hard to believe, as Zhang Can simply didn’t have that ability!

Now, Zhang Can’s opening price left Old Su with a bitter taste, as if a thorn were stuck in his throat—hard to swallow, hard to spit out. If he bought it for a million, there’d still be some profit, though for such a large deal, the margin was small. For daily business, a profit of two hundred thousand was a windfall. Yet this was a deal he’d missed, with Zhu Senlin present to witness it all. If Old Su had bought it directly, it wouldn’t have cost five thousand. Now, to get it from Zhang Can for a million—regardless of whether Zhu Senlin said anything, he’d never look at him the same way again.

This Zhang Can—after Old Su had just swindled him out of three hundred thousand, he’d now made Old Su lose face almost immediately!

Zhang Can could read their expressions clearly: Old Su was choking with frustration, while Zhu Senlin was genuinely astonished. If Zhu Senlin knew the painting’s true value, he’d certainly question Old Su—and that was exactly what Zhang Can wanted.

“Heh, it’s out of respect for you, Boss Zhu, and Old Su. As the saying goes, even brothers settle accounts clearly. We may not be master and apprentice in name, but in practice we are. If I make a profit, of course I’ll show my gratitude. But…” Zhang Can sighed, then continued, “To be honest, Old Su, I’m in a tough spot. I lost money on a deal a few days ago and need to make up the loss.”