The three of them were in high spirits when the door was suddenly knocked. The visitor was a scrawny old man in a traditional button-up shirt, his nose as red as a ripe jujube.
"Master Ma San, from Xi'an, here for antique restoration," the old man said, sitting down with practiced familiarity. "I hear you've acquired a Tang dynasty silver pot?"
Mu Feng activated his Mystic Pupil and noticed a miniature magnifying glass clipped to the old man's belt. Engraved on the frame was "Forbidden City 092"—it was an artifact-restoration tool stolen from the Palace Museum!
"Good eye, Master Ma San," Mu Feng said, hiding the pot behind his back. "However, we intended to—"
"Don't be in such a rush to refuse," Master Ma San said, pulling out a gold-stamped invitation. "There's an auction at Rongbaozhai tomorrow, and they're in need of an expert appraiser." He looked meaningfully into Mu Feng's gleaming eyes. "Standard commission is five percent."
At the Rongbaozhai auction, Mu Feng wore a borrowed suit, his fingers lightly skimming the auction catalog. His Mystic Pupil allowed him to see the true nature of every lot: that "Northern Wei Buddha" was a replica made just last week, while that set of "Ming dynasty tea ware" was genuine, though it had been treated with chemicals, slashing its value.
"Next, this Han dynasty jade disc with grain patterns. Starting bid, 800,000!" the auctioneer announced, pulling back the red silk cloth.
Mu Feng’s Mystic Pupil suddenly pricked with pain. The jade disc glowed with an eerie red light in his vision, a writhing black mist swirling inside it! Even worse, he recognized the technique—it was identical to the work of Shiyi Pavilion.
"It's fake," Mu Feng said, loud enough for Master Ma San to hear. "It’s made of old jade from Liaoning, but the patterns were carved with an electric engraver."
The room erupted in murmurs. A fat man with gold teeth stood up from the back row. "Who is this punk? This jade disc has been tested by the Peking University laboratory!"
Mu Feng, unflustered, borrowed a high-intensity flashlight and shone it on the edge of the disc. "Genuine Han jade is polished with abrasive sand, which leaves subtle—" He stopped short. His Mystic Pupil had caught a glimpse of a slip of paper in the Gold-Toothed Man's pocket with the words "Mu Yuncheng" written on it!
"Leaves what?" the auctioneer pressed.
"It should have parallel grinding marks," Mu Feng said, suppressing his shock. "This piece is covered in concentric circle marks, clearly from modern machinery."
Several veteran collectors rushed forward to verify and quickly found the flaws. The Gold-Toothed Man left with a livid expression, glaring fiercely at Mu Feng as he departed.
"That was Zhao Jinya, the Xi'an branch leader of Shiyi Pavilion," Master Ma San whispered. "You've stirred up big trouble."
By the end of the auction, Mu Feng's team walked away with 200,000 in commissions alone. Better yet, the coal tycoon who bought the genuine Ming tea set hired them on the spot as private appraisal consultants.
"We’re getting paid!" Su Yuqing cheered, counting the cash on the drive back. "At this rate, we can rent a storefront by the end of the month!"
Qin Yue suggested they could take them to other Antique City locations again soon...
"Brother Feng, look at this!" Su Yuqing squatted in front of a street stall at the antique market, holding a small blue-and-white porcelain bowl, her eyes bright as spotlights.
Mu Feng crouched down as his Mystic Pupil grew slightly warm. In his vision, the bottom of the bowl emitted a faint blue glow. It was a genuine mid-Qing folk-kiln piece, worth at least 30,000, yet the stall owner had marked it at 800.
"Boss, this bowl..." Mu Feng said, intentionally furrowing his brow. "The glaze color isn't right."
The bald stall owner, cigarette dangling from his lips, replied, "Good eye, kid. It's a Kangxi imitation of a Chenghua piece. Take it for 2,000."
Mu Feng suppressed a smile. His Mystic Pupil saw clearly that the bowl wasn't an imitation at all, but authentic export porcelain from the Qianlong era, complete with the secret mark of the Dutch East India Company on the bottom.
"800," Mu Feng said, pulling out his wallet. "I'll buy it as an ashtray."
The owner acted as if he were in pain as he took the money. Just as Mu Feng put the bowl in his backpack, Qin Yue tugged his sleeve. "Ten o'clock, the guy in the black jacket. He's been following us since the auction."
Mu Feng glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw one of Zhao Jinya's men pretending to examine jade. He calmly pulled the two girls close. "Come on, let me show you something good."
The three of them ducked into a shop specializing in antique silver. Mu Feng pointed to the corner of the counter. "Boss, let me see that silver pot."
In the corner lay a silver pot, oxidized to black, with a small chip in the spout. The shop owner, a skinny man in reading glasses, pursed his lips. "You've got a sharp eye, kid. This is from the Republic of China era—"
"Let me look first," Mu Feng interrupted his sales pitch. As he took the pot, his Mystic Pupil began to heat up. When his fingers touched the body, a vision flashed before his eyes: a magnificent, gilded palace, and a eunuch in Tang robes pouring wine into the vessel.
"Holy..." Mu Feng nearly fumbled the pot. In the view of his Mystic Pupil, the surface was covered in an intense golden radiance, and on the inner base were three small characters: "Xuanhui Office." This was genuine Tang dynasty court silver! A treasure worth at least a million on the market!
Su Yuqing leaned in. "Brother Feng, this pot is so black..."
"Just oxidation," Mu Feng said, suppressing his excitement. He deliberately held the pot up to the light. "The craftsmanship is alright, but the condition is poor." He glanced out the corner of his eye and saw the man in the black jacket had wandered to the shop entrance. He had to act fast.
Qin Yue pinched his arm, whispering, "He’s inside."
Mu Feng's mind raced. He set the silver pot back on the counter. "Boss, how much for this pot?"
"8,000. This is—"
"Too expensive." Mu Feng shook his head, suddenly pointing to a shiny silver bracelet in the center of the counter. "How much for that?"
The boss paused. "That... 3,500. Qing dynasty—"
"Let me see." Mu Feng took the bracelet; his Mystic Pupil showed it was a modern fake. He said loudly, "Yuqing, this bracelet would look great with your dress."
Su Yuqing caught on immediately. "Really? Let me try it!" She put on the bracelet and waved her wrist. "It's a bit big..."
As Mu Feng helped Su Yuqing adjust the bracelet, he kept an eye on the man in the black jacket. The guy was clearly distracted by the flashy bracelet, pretending to look at items by the door while keeping his ears pricked.
"Boss, will you take 2,000 for the bracelet?" Mu Feng started bargaining.
"No way, no way. 3,000 at the very least..."
"2,500, and throw in this broken pot," Mu Feng said nonchalantly, gesturing toward the Tang dynasty silver pot. "I’ll just take it home as a decoration."
The boss frowned. "But this pot is—"
"The spout is chipped and it's oxidized like this. It'll sit here for another ten years without selling." Mu Feng pulled out his wallet. "Forget it if you won't sell. We're leaving."
"Wait, wait!" The boss grabbed him. "2,800, take them both!"
Mu Feng was ecstatic inside, though he put on a pained expression. "2,600. Not a penny more."
"Deal!" The boss quickly wrote up the receipt, afraid he might change his mind.
As he paid, Mu Feng noticed the man in the black jacket get a phone call and hurry out of the shop. He let out a sigh of relief, carefully stowing the silver pot in his backpack, while leaving the bracelet on Su Yuqing's wrist.
"Brother Feng, this broken pot..." Su Yuqing asked as they walked out of the shop.