Two hours later, Mu Feng stood before the grand entrance of Jubao Pavilion, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a suit Su Yuqing had managed to procure from somewhere. His current persona was "Mr. Lin," a collector returning from Southeast Asia, while Su Yuqing acted as his secretary.
"Remember, only inspect the three most expensive items," Su Yuqing whispered. "Being too low-key will only arouse suspicion."
The auction hall was packed. As soon as Mu Feng sat down, his Mystic Pupil began scanning the room uncontrollably. At least one-third of the auction items shimmered with the grey mist that signified a fake. However, a bronze ritual vessel on the display stand directly in front of him emitted an eerie purple light. To his eyes, the taotie pattern on the vessel seemed to writhe and shift, forming a rune similar to the one on the back of the Taixu Mirror.
"The first item, a Song Dynasty official kiln porcelain plate! Starting bid, eight hundred thousand!" The auctioneer pulled away the red silk cloth.
Mu Feng nearly laughed out loud. Through his eyes, the plate was thick with grey mist; beneath the "Made in the Xuanhe Era of the Great Song" hallmark, the words "Imitation, 23rd Year of the Republic" were clearly visible. Even more ridiculous was the sight of at least five "experts" in the room bidding frantically.
"Mr. Lin, not interested?" asked an old man in a long gown sitting next to him.
Mu Feng turned to see the old man fiddling with a pair of walnuts with a thick, rich patina. To Mu Feng’s eyes, they radiated a pure golden light—they were definitely genuine relics from the Ming Imperial Palace.
"Just a fake," Mu Feng said, raising his voice intentionally. "The firing is too harsh, the glaze is stiff. It doesn't even qualify as a high-quality imitation."
The room fell silent. The auctioneer’s face turned livid. "Sir, all items at Jubao Pavilion have been authenticated by authorities..."
"Is that so?" Mu Feng stood up and walked toward the stage under the surprised gazes of the crowd. "Then, may I ask why there is a private seal of a Republic-era forger hidden beneath the hallmark?"
He focused his Mystic Pupil on the plate, and a flash of gold light sparked in his eyes. To onlookers, he simply leaned in for a closer look, but in reality, he had used his supernatural ability to project the hidden information onto the surface of the plate. The Republic-era mark suddenly became visible to the naked eye.
"This... this is impossible!" A bald man in the front row stood up abruptly.
Mu Feng glanced at him and noticed a badge from Shiyi Pavilion pinned to his chest, wreathed in black mist in Mu Feng's vision.
The venue erupted into chaos. The auctioneer hurriedly halted the bidding, and several appraisers rushed onto the stage to inspect the plate. Taking advantage of the confusion, Mu Feng quickly scanned the other items. Aside from the bronze vessel, two other pieces caught his attention: a seemingly ordinary landscape painting that hid an ancient map within its core, and a "Qing Dynasty" jade pendant, which was actually a sacrificial object from the Warring States period, engraved with strange symbols related to his parents' disappearance.
"Young man, you have a sharp eye," the old man in the long gown said, appearing at his side. "I am Elder Chen. Might I ask your name?"
Mu Feng was shocked—Elder Chen? A titan of the antique world! Just as he was about to answer, he felt a sharp sting. His Mystic Pupil automatically locked onto a second-floor private box, where a woman wearing gold-rimmed glasses was staring coldly at him, holding a folding fan embroidered with the secret mark of Shiyi Pavilion.
"I am Lin Feng, a newcomer. I hope Elder Chen will forgive my bluntness," Mu Feng said, calmly pulling his gaze away.
Elder Chen chuckled and handed him a gold-embossed business card. "I am hosting a small gathering at my home tomorrow night. If Mr. Lin is interested..."
Before he could finish, several men in black rushed through the side door of the auction hall. Mu Feng recognized the leader instantly as the Gold-Toothed Man he had encountered at Bogu Pavilion, though today he wore sunglasses to cover his injured eye.
"Let's go," Mu Feng grabbed Su Yuqing and whispered, "Shiyi Pavilion."
They slipped out of the auction hall during the chaos, failing to notice Elder Chen watching Mu Feng's retreating figure with a thoughtful expression, his walnuts spinning rapidly in his hands.
In the back alley, Su Yuqing hopped with excitement. "Did you see their faces? The news that Jubao Pavilion sells fakes will be all over the city by tomorrow!"
Mu Feng, however, frowned. "It was too easy. The rune on that bronze vessel is related to my parents, and Shiyi Pavilion was clearly after it. Why didn't anyone stop us?"
As if to answer his question, three dark figures appeared at the end of the alley. Mu Feng’s Mystic Pupil warned him in advance: it was the woman from the auction hall with two bodyguards, all three shrouded in that eerie black mist.
"Nice move, Master Mu," the woman's voice was cold as ice. "It’s a pity the Taixu Mirror is not something you can touch."
Mu Feng instinctively reached for the Celestial Master Seal in his pocket, but heard a familiar "click" behind him. Old Zhou appeared from around the corner pushing a dilapidated bicycle, an incense burner smoking away in the front basket.
"Yo, is Shiyi Pavilion starting to rob people in the streets now?" Old Zhou stopped his bike leisurely. The smoke from the burner suddenly turned azure, forming a barrier between them.
The woman’s expression shifted. "Seven-Star Smoke? You are Zhou..."
"Good, you recognize it," Old Zhou patted the bike seat. "Kid, get on!"
Mu Feng and Su Yuqing scrambled onto the back of the bicycle. Under the cover of the azure smoke, Old Zhou pedaled the old relic, which looked like it might fall apart at any moment, at the speed of a motorcycle.
After turning through seven or eight alleys, Old Zhou finally stopped and pulled a small porcelain bottle from his robes, sprinkling something over them. Mu Feng’s Mystic Pupil saw a silver film of light coating their bodies.
"It will block their tracking for now," Old Zhou panted. "Kid, you’ve really gone and done it this time. The second-in-command of Shiyi Pavilion came out personally; it seems there really is something inside that bronze vessel."
Back at the pawnshop, Su Yuqing suddenly gasped. The shard of the Taixu Mirror on the counter was emitting a faint hum, and the cracks on its surface seemed to have diminished.
"Is it self-repairing?" Mu Feng looked on in surprise as a new rune emerged on the mirror. "Wait, this pattern... it's the map hidden in the landscape painting from the auction!"
Old Zhou looked grave. "It seems the Taixu Mirror is guiding us. You have two choices: hide and wait for the storm to pass, or..."
"Or go to Elder Chen's gathering," Mu Feng said, staring at the shifting patterns in the mirror. "There must be a clue to the next fragment there."
Su Yuqing suddenly grabbed his arm. "Your eyes!"
Mu Feng turned to the mirror and discovered his pupils had turned completely golden. Reflected within them was a massive bronze door slowly creaking open, and the light leaking through the gap formed four characters: "Wuhua Tianbao"—the very name of the top-tier antique appraisal event hosted annually by Elder Chen.
"Are you sure you want to go dressed like that?" Su Yuqing tugged at Mu Feng’s collar. "Elder Chen's 'Wuhua Tianbao' isn't just any old auction. Everyone who shows up is an old-school collector; you look like an insurance salesman."
Mu Feng straightened his collar in the dim mirror of the pawnshop's back room. "Didn't Old Zhou say Elder Chen hates people who wear long gowns to affect a refined air?" He suddenly froze. His Mystic Pupil activated involuntarily, and his reflection in the mirror transformed into a middle-aged man in Ming Dynasty attire, grinning at him eerily.