Noticing the unusual expression on Wen Qirong's face, the tall man tentatively asked, "Sir, did I say something wrong?"
Wen Qirong shook his head and sighed, "Xiao Wu, do you still remember how your father died?"
The tall man paused for a moment and said with a gloomy expression, "He had a duel with a rival, and they fought to the death."
Wen Qirong shook his head again. "You were too young back then, so some things might not be clear to you. In that duel, your father actually won—and it was a complete victory."
The tall man's eyes widened. "Then why..."
Wen Qirong let out a long sigh. "The cause of your father's death was a ruptured liver. An expert once told him that your family's martial arts technique has a huge hidden flaw: the deeper your cultivation, the greater the damage to your body."
"No wonder you advised me not to practice the family martial arts." Realization dawned on the tall man's face.
"What should we do then? Will Brother Wu end up like that too in the future..." Wen Wan's face was instantly filled with worry.
She had long since regarded this tall man as her own older brother.
The tall man shook his head and comforted her, "Miss, you don't need to worry. My cultivation is still far from my father's, and I don't feel any discomfort at all."
"Perhaps my father injured himself back then because he was too eager for quick success."
Wen Qirong shook his head. "Xiao Wu, you must not take this lightly. If there's really no other way..."
He wanted to say that if all else failed, he should stop practicing altogether, or even actively dissipate his cultivation.
Before he could finish, Wen Wan interrupted, "Dad, since Yang Fan saw at a glance that something was wrong with Brother Wu's body, maybe he has a way to fix it?"
The tall man shook his head with a bitter smile, "Miss, that guy is just a punk. I don't believe he has that kind of ability."
"Don't look down on people."
Wen Wan retorted, "Let me tell you, Yang Fan is definitely not ordinary. He was sent flying over ten meters away by my car and even struck by lightning."
"Yet he was fine after lying in the hospital for two days. You can't just explain that away with luck."
Wen Qirong was somewhat surprised. "There's such a thing? Hearing you talk about it makes me somewhat want to meet this Yang Fan."
"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!" Wen Wan's personality was always to act the moment she made up her mind.
Wen Qirong, however, grabbed her hand tightly and shook his head with a smile, "No rush, let's go take care of some other business first."
"What business?" Wen Wan asked in confusion.
A cold gleam flashed in Wen Qirong's sharp, energetic eyes. "How dare they set a trap to scam my daughter. I'm going to let those people know that just because I've left Fengcheng doesn't mean I can't deal with them!"
...
Yang Fan scanned a shared yellow bicycle downstairs at the hospital and headed to a very famous antique market in Fengcheng.
There was a hint of excitement between his brows because he could now confirm that his body had indeed been strengthened.
Long-term 007 work hours had practically hollowed out his body, and he used to get out of breath just climbing a few flights of stairs.
Today, however, he pedaled the bicycle so fast it felt like flying, leaving countless cars behind along the way and stunning those drivers.
In high spirits, Yang Fan parked the shared yellow bicycle and walked into the antique market.
As soon as he entered the main gate, stall after stall came into view, with the cries of hawkers rising one after another.
"Boss, hold on, take a look at this Ming Dynasty official kiln piece."
"This is an authentic work by Wang Xizhi, and you want to take it for twenty yuan? We won't even talk for less than a hundred!"
"Boss, this is a spitfire used by Emperor Qianlong..."
Yang Fan walked past stall after stall, making his way familiarly deep into the market. Ten out of eleven items outside were fake; he could tell even without turning on his X-ray Vision.
Brocade Pavilion was one of the top shops in this antique market. Spanning over two hundred square meters, its storefront was decorated in a classical and elegant style.
The three large characters on the sign were written in a vigorous, flying script.
On the left: "To appreciate jade and pearls is a refined discernment."
On the right: "To discuss the present and past is a magnificent chapter."
It was said that this couplet was inscribed by a grand master.
Just as he reached the entrance, Yang Fan heard a flippant voice from inside: "Little girl, can you actually appraise this or not? If not, hurry up and take down Master Sun's calligraphy so you don't disgrace the old man."
Immediately following came his third sister's slightly guilty voice: "Boss Zhou, please remain calm."
Yang Fan took a deep breath, straightened his collar, and strode inside.
"Welcome, sir. What are you looking to buy?"
As soon as he stepped into the shop, a pretty girl in professional attire walked up to him.
Recognizing that it was Yang Fan, she was clearly stunned for a moment, then exclaimed in surprise, "How are you dressed like this today... I almost didn't recognize you."
Most of the staff at Brocade Pavilion knew Yang Fan. Usually, he wore cheap street clothes, his face full of exhaustion, looking like a scruffy mutt.
Today, however, he was radiant and dressed in a suit and leather shoes, looking every bit like a big shot out on a shopping spree.
Yang Fan raised a hand to touch his hair and smiled. "Do I look more handsome?"
"Indeed... Oh, hurry on inside, Sister Rong is about to reach her limit."
The girl pushed Yang Fan toward the back of the shop.
There stood Third Sister in front of a glass counter, wearing a fake smile with a nervous expression not far away, an old man and a young man sat cross-legged in front of a mahogany tea table.
Seeing Yang Fan, Yang Rong's eyes immediately lit up, and she blurted out, "Why did you only just arrive? Ahem... If you're late next time, I'll deduct your pay. Come over here and take a look at these items."
"There was a traffic jam on the way."
Yang Fan played along with a reply and walked over to the items placed on the counter.
They heard the middle-aged man, who looked to be in his fifties, laugh with a "hehe": "Can Boss Zheng really find no one else? Why is your Brocade Pavilion full of wet behind the ears greenhorns?"
Yang Rong sighed with a smile, "Boss Zhou, didn't Master Wang from our Brocade Pavilion just jump ship to your Baobao Pavilion?"
The middle-aged man leisurely took a sip of tea. "That's not called jumping ship; that's turning away from the dark and joining the light."
"Let's cut the small talk. I'd like to see just how much skill this kid you've been anxiously waiting for actually has."
Listening to the exchange between the two, Yang Fan understood instantly. This was the competition coming to smash the place.
As the saying goes, rivals are enemies, which is especially obvious in the antique trade. Poaching staff and tripping each other up were common occurrences.
They bring a few items over and ask you to buy them, challenging you to see if you dare to acquire them. If your judgment is off, losing money is a minor issue; the most serious consequence is smashing your sign and ruining your reputation.
Yang Rong cast a look at Yang Fan, signaling him to hurry up and get to work.
The corners of Yang Fan's mouth curved upward, and he returned Yang Rong a look that told her to rest easy.
Had it been before, he definitely would have felt intimidated in a situation like this. When it came down to it, he was just an amateur hobbyist who had read a few related books—how could he match wits with these old foxes?
Now, however, he was full of confidence.
Concentrating his focus, he looked at the pomegranate-red court robe placed on the far left, quietly activating his X-ray Vision.