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The second-floor hall is elegantly furnished, with about fifty seats arranged in an arc, and a mahogany auction table in front.

By this time, about 70% of the guests were seated, mostly well-dressed and composed middle-aged people, with a few young people who were mostly accompanying their elders.

Gong Yichu introduced in a low voice: "Jizhen Pavilion holds auctions once a month. It's not the largest in scale, but all the items are strictly selected, and occasionally some rare treasures that are hard to find on the market will appear. Many of the people here today are familiar faces in the Nanjing collecting circle."

She pointed to a bald, slightly overweight middle-aged man in the front row: "That's Boss Zhou, the jade enthusiast, who specializes in collecting antique jade."

He then gestured to a thin, elderly man wearing gold-rimmed glasses in the right corner, saying, "That's Mr. Li, a collector of calligraphy and paintings. He has a sharp eye and rarely makes a mistake."

Ye Heng glanced around, his gaze lingering briefly on a burly, bald man in the third row on the left side of the hall.

The man was in his early forties, dressed in a dark blue Tang suit, with a string of dark sandalwood beads around his neck, and was looking down at his phone. Behind him sat two young men, dressed in casual clothes, but with upright posture and sharp eyes; they were clearly bodyguards.

Ye Heng sensed that the man possessed an aura different from that of ordinary businessmen.

That was the malevolent aura he had picked up from long-term involvement in the gray areas; despite his attempts to conceal it, it still couldn't escape his perception.

"Do you know that person?" Ye Heng asked in a low voice.

Gong Yichu followed his gaze, her delicate brows furrowing slightly: "Not very familiar. But I've heard of him; his surname is Sun, he's in the building materials business, and he only started collecting things in the last couple of years. But..."

She paused, then lowered her voice: "There are rumors that he has a complicated background and some connections in the west of the city."

The western part of the city is the traditional territory of the Jiaolong Group.

Ye Heng understood and didn't ask any more questions.

The two sat down in the middle-right position.

A moment later, the auctioneer came on stage; he was a sprightly old man in his fifties.

He cleared his throat and began his introduction in a calm tone: "Thank you for attending this Jizhen Pavilion Auction. The first item for today is a Qing Dynasty Qianlong period official kiln blue and white porcelain celestial globe vase with lotus scroll design. It is in excellent condition with a pure glaze, and the starting price is 1.8 million."

The bidding then began.

Ye Heng simply watched quietly, occasionally exchanging a few words in hushed tones with Gong Yichu beside him, offering his insights on the glaze, painting techniques, and inscriptions of the porcelain. His concise yet to the point made Gong Yichu nod in approval.

The next few items, ranging from ancient jade to calligraphy and paintings, each had their own unique characteristics, but they did not attract the special attention of the two.

Then the auctioneer presented a hanging scroll: "Next up, a landscape painting by an anonymous Ming dynasty artist, 'Secluded Dwelling in the Mountains and Streams,' ink and color on silk, with ethereal brushwork and profound artistic conception. Starting price: 2.2 million."

Gong Yichu's eyes lit up slightly; the painting's understated charm suited her aesthetic perfectly.

Just as she was about to raise her sign, Ye Heng gently pressed down on her wrist.

"This is a fake."

"The painting itself is old; the silk and ink are at least four hundred years old. However, the forged inscription in the lower left corner was added later. The ink is floating on top of the patina, and the brushstrokes are not connected to the spirit of the painting. It should be a forgery added by a master in the mid-Qing Dynasty."

Upon hearing this, Gong Yichu immediately focused his attention and examined the matter closely.

After Ye Heng pointed it out, she indeed discovered that there was a subtle difference between the ink color of the inscription and the warm luster formed by the years on the painting, and the brushstrokes also appeared slightly deliberate and stiff.

She glanced at Ye Heng gratefully, her admiration for his unassuming yet accurate insight growing even stronger.

Halfway through the auction, the auctioneer gestured to his assistant to bring out a brocade box: "Next up is a Warring States period jade disc with grain patterns, naturally patinated, with simple and ancient carvings, and a clear provenance. Starting bid: 1.5 million."

The jade disc's warm luster attracted several collectors, and its price quickly rose.

When the number reached 1.8 million, the bald man in a dark blue Tang suit sitting in the third row on the left—Boss Sun—raised his bidding paddle for the first time.

"Two million." His voice was hoarse, carrying an undeniable air of authority.

A moment of silence fell over the hall. The collectors who had initially shown interest exchanged glances, but none of them raised the price further.

The auctioneer asked three questions before the hammer fell and the sale was completed.

Ye Heng noticed that after Boss Sun bought the jade disc, he didn't look at it much. Instead, he turned his head and whispered something to the bodyguard behind him, without much joy in his expression.

It seems his true intentions lie elsewhere. Ye Heng thought to himself.

This person is probably using collecting as a pretext for some ulterior motive. He stopped paying attention and turned his focus back to the auction stage.

After several more rounds, a Northern Song Dynasty Ding ware carved bowl was sold for a high price. The auctioneer then signaled to the staff to bring out a long, narrow ebony brocade box. The box was undecorated and looked exceptionally antique.

"The next item is a bit special." The auctioneer opened the box and took out a sheathed dagger.

The scabbard was jet black, neither wood nor iron, covered with fine, dark patterns, simple and unadorned, even somewhat worn. The hilt was wrapped with a heavily worn black silk rope.

"This knife is unnamed. According to the consignor, it was acquired by his ancestors in the southwestern border region, and the date is unknown. The blade and scabbard are made of a special, exceptionally hard material, but the edge is dull and has no practical value. Its design is ancient and simple, and it can serve as a specimen for the study of weapon forms. Starting bid: 800,000."

The auctioneer's introduction was very straightforward, even pointing out that it had "no practical value." Most of the people in the hall showed little interest.

However, the moment the short sword was taken out and displayed, Ye Heng's pupils contracted slightly.

His gaze was fixed firmly on the dark scabbard.

What appeared to be ordinary dark patterns to the average person were, in his eyes, a kind of extremely ancient, almost lost sealing rune! Although the spiritual power was weak and almost dissipated, the remaining trace of fluctuation subtly echoed a certain method of sealing magical artifacts from his inherited memories.

This is no ordinary ancient sword! Ye Heng's heart beat slightly faster.

The scabbard itself is very likely an ancient magical artifact component used to seal the spiritual essence of the blade, but due to its age, the sealing power has almost completely dissipated. There may be something else within the blade itself.

"Eight hundred thousand." Ye Heng was the first to raise his paddle, his voice calm.

Gong Yichu glanced at him with some surprise.

Based on her understanding of Ye Heng, this seemingly worn-out dagger must have something extraordinary about it.

"Nine hundred thousand." A voice rang out from the left. It was Mr. Sun, the owner. He didn't turn around, but simply raised his sign casually.

Ye Heng's expression remained unchanged: "One million two hundred thousand."

They directly increased the price by 300,000. This move drew even more attention.

Boss Sun frowned slightly, glanced at Ye Heng sideways, and scrutinized him. He raised his paddle again: "One million five hundred thousand."

"Two million." Ye Heng raised the price again significantly without hesitation.

A soft murmur rippled through the hall. A seemingly useless ancient sword, with a starting bid of 800,000, was quickly driven up to 2 million.

Gong Yichu gently touched Ye Heng's arm and whispered, "Mr. Ye, if you need it, I have some here." Her voice was soft, but firm.

Ye Heng felt a warmth in his heart and nodded slightly to her.

He must project an image of being determined to acquire the knife and having ample funds.

Boss Sun's face darkened.