Chapter 39

"Please walk slowly, Mr. Qi, and call if there's anything... "

Half an hour later, under the courteous escort of the middle-aged man, Qi Xiang left the sales center. On the surface, he appeared calm, but in reality, his heart was bleeding.

"I was too impulsive, too impulsive, putting on a brave face despite my swollen cheeks." Qi Xiang sighed in his heart, but he did not feel much regret. After all, times had changed, and he had the confidence...

Qi Xiang walked calmly, taking a few steps with the middle-aged man's escort. Suddenly, he paused, turned his head, and said casually, "By the way, that person... I don't want to see him again when I come next time."

"Uh?" The middle-aged man was startled, then smiled warmly and said, "Rest assured, I understand. I will definitely make sure you are satisfied..."

The middle-aged man did not find Qi Xiang's desire for revenge strange at all; on the contrary, it confirmed his belief that Qi Xiang was a rich second-generation. Narrow-minded, concerned about face, and vengeful—these were common traits of the rich second-generation, quite normal.

Moreover, the middle-aged man did not feel any guilt about using the security guard as an example. After all, at the root of it, the security guard had been blind and had brought the trouble upon himself.

Whoever caused the trouble, whoever should take responsibility—fair and reasonable, right?

The middle-aged man, with a smile, helped Qi Xiang hail a taxi, opened the door first, and waited for Qi Xiang to get in before slowly closing the door. He watched the car drive away until it disappeared, then reluctantly returned to the sales center.

No one around, and he could still do this—no wonder he was the manager...

In the car, the driver asked, "Sir, where to?"

Qi Xiang thought for a moment and instructed, "Antique market!"

He considered it and felt that starting with his own field would bring in money faster. Most importantly, this money was clean, could withstand investigation, and would not cause any trouble. Otherwise, he really wanted to fly to Macau immediately.

The antique market in Huzhou is located near the Fumiao, between Renmin Road and Beijie.

The so-called Fumiao actually refers to the Chenghuang Temple.

The Chenghuang Temple in Huzhou has a very long history. According to historical records, it was built during the Five Dynasties period, enduring a thousand years of storms, being destroyed and rebuilt multiple times, and has continued to this day.

The Fumiao in Huzhou, similar to the Fuzi Temple in Nanjing, is not only a place for religious sacrifices but also an entertainment venue. In ancient times, the Fumiao was constantly visited by traveling performers, acrobats, magicians, and fortune-tellers who practiced their arts and deceived people.

In modern times, the renovated Fumiao has become a bustling place for tourism, shopping, entertainment, and leisure. The antique market in Huzhou has gradually taken shape, attracting a large number of visitors thanks to the Fumiao.

Soon, the car stopped near the Fumiao.

After getting out of the car, Qi Xiang slowly walked to the antique market. He had to admit that the market was not very large, but it was very lively, with a steady stream of people.

"What's going on?" Qi Xiang was somewhat surprised because in his memory, the antique market was usually not very lively, sometimes even deserted.

What was happening today, making everyone seem so energized, with bright faces and high spirits?

Surprised, Qi Xiang began to observe carefully.

Soon, he discovered that the bustling crowd was heading to the same place.

It was a shop, a large and spacious shop. Like a department store, it was formed by connecting three or four shops, making it look very grand.

At that moment, the shop was bustling with people, with drums and cymbals sounding and firecrackers exploding, as if it were holding an opening ceremony.

Following the flow of people, Qi Xiang walked to the side of the shop and was immediately stunned.

Above the shop hung a gilded sign.

Two gilded characters, strong and powerful, stood out prominently.

"Xuzhai!"

At first glance, Qi Xiang was inevitably surprised. As an insider, he knew very well that this sign name could not be used casually, as it had been used by someone a hundred years ago.

Even those with a keen eye could find a book called "Xuzhai Famous Paintings" in some bookstores.

To put it simply, Xuzhai was a well-known hall name. In most cases, people would avoid using such a famous hall name when naming their shops, out of respect for the ancients.

Of course, if someone with limited knowledge inadvertently used a name that coincided with an ancient hall name, it could be understood.

The problem was that Qi Xiang knew very well that this was impossible.

Because the famous Xuzhai had stood in Huzhou a hundred years ago. It was the hall name of the renowned collector Pang Laichen during the Republic of China era.

Pang Laichen, whose given name was Yuanji and courtesy name was Laichen, was also known as Xuzhai.

In the late Qing Dynasty, there was a saying in Huzhou: "One city of Huzhou is not as prosperous as half a town of Nanxun." The Pang family was one of the wealthiest in Nanxun, known as one of the "Four Elephants of Nanxun."

Nanxun, undoubtedly a legend in modern Chinese history, became prosperous through sericulture and silk, with the silk industry almost accompanying the rise of modern industry. This small town was home to wealthy merchants and aristocrats, so much so that the local people referred to them as the "Four Elephants and Eight Oxen," comparing their wealth to the size of animals.

Wealth and the desire to collect art were a common habit.

Pang Laichen, with his wealth and expertise in appraisal, collected bronze vessels, porcelain, paintings, and jade artifacts, with a particular focus on paintings. He carefully collected masterpieces from the Tang, Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasties and built a special pavilion to store them, naming it Xuzhai.

During its peak, Xuzhai owned thousands of famous paintings and calligraphy works, making it the leading private collection in the country.

To be more conservative, it was undoubtedly the leading collection in the southeast.

However, during the Republic of China era, due to the unstable political situation, many of Xuzhai's collections were lost for various reasons. After the founding of the People's Republic of China, the descendants of the Pang family donated the remaining collections to various museums.

From that point on, Xuzhai became a name in history, no longer existing in reality.

Although Xuzhai no longer existed, as a well-known hall name in the area, there was no reason for the locals not to know about it. Yet, this sign was hung so boldly, and no one seemed to have advised against it.

Qi Xiang couldn't help but shake his head, sighing at the decline of morals and the loss of traditional values. He glanced past the sign and saw rows of counters and shelves inside the shop.

The counters and shelves were neatly arranged with scrolls and paintings.

"Huh?"

Qi Xiang was surprised. He didn't expect that Xuzhai was actually a painting and calligraphy shop.

At that moment, it seemed that a lottery was being held inside the shop. Apparently, anyone who bought items of a certain value had a chance to win a famous brand smartphone worth five to six thousand yuan.

Moreover, since it was the first day of the opening, all items in the shop were discounted by 30%.

With discounts and a lottery, it was naturally very lively.

Qi Xiang had no interest in such marketing activities. However, he noticed that the shop seemed to have a second floor, which was restricted to ordinary people.

Qi Xiang could see clearly that some people who tried to go upstairs were stopped by a sweet-looking girl.

The sweet girl showed a painting, seemingly asking a question. A few people shook their heads in confusion and dispersed. However, some answered correctly and, with the girl's sweet smile, proudly walked upstairs.

Curious, Qi Xiang followed the crowd through the spacious shop and came to the stairs leading to the second floor.

"Please stop, sir," the girl smiled and explained, "The second floor is for a painting and calligraphy exhibition. The items are quite valuable, and the space is limited, so only professionals or guests with a certain level of expertise are allowed to go up."

Qi Xiang raised an eyebrow, "How do you determine if someone is professional or not?"

"Sir, I have a painting here," the girl smiled sweetly, "What do you think of this painting?"

Qi Xiang focused his gaze and carefully examined the painting in the girl's hand.

The painting was not large, with a common theme of a landscape. A river flowed eastward, with lush trees on the bank, and a wooden bridge could be seen in the distance.

A boy herding a cow was playing with a butterfly near the bridge, a scene full of innocence and charm.

Qi Xiang glanced at it and concluded, "This is a copy."

"Can you explain?" The girl's smile deepened.

"This is a copy of Qi Baishi's famous painting, 'Spring Play of the Cowherd.'" Qi Xiang commented, "Well, it's not exactly a copy, more like a reproduction. It looks like a classroom assignment by a student from an art academy, and the skill level is not bad."

"Of course, there are many flaws. The lines of the landscape are not smooth enough. The branches and leaves of the trees are improperly handled, appearing messy and blurry. Most importantly, it's the hand of the cowherd."

Qi Xiang shook his head, "As is well known, the most difficult part of a figure painting is the hand. The ancients described hands as delicate and beautiful, with clear joints."

"An inexperienced painter generally avoids painting hands, hiding their shortcomings by concealing the hands or putting them in sleeves, not daring to show them."

Qi Xiang continued, "Qi Baishi, a master of the painting world, naturally had no such concerns. Although I have not seen the original 'Spring Play of the Cowherd,' I have seen some high-resolution photos and know that the cowherd's hand is like a lotus bud, delicate, natural, and vivid."

"But look, the hand in this painting is like a tangled mess, far too poor."

Qi Xiang said calmly, "So I think this is a painting by a student from an art academy, whose skills are still shallow and need more practice."

"Clap, clap, clap, clap!"

At that moment, someone nearby couldn't help but clap and walked over with a smile, "Mr. Qi, you have a keen eye. Your analysis is thorough and impressive."

"Xiao Ding..." Qi Xiang turned around, somewhat surprised, but then felt relieved. After all, Xiao Ding was clearly a local figure, so it was not strange for him to be here.

"Mr. Qi, I thought you had already left," Xiao Ding said with a familiar smile.

"I had some temporary matters, so I decided to stay a few more days," Qi Xiang explained casually, then turned and asked, "I'm done. Is my level good enough to go upstairs?"

...

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