Old Mrs. Song is reborn; get out of here, you scumbag husband and illegitimate child!

The bespectacled man's expression changed drastically. "Nonsense! That's our ancestor! How dare you be so disrespectful?"

"Stop trying to glorify yourself." Song Xianglan spat. "Those are your masters' ancestors, not mine. I'm a Han, not a slave. Don't try to act like some old-fashioned remnant in front of me."

The bespectacled man was so angry he wanted to turn around and leave, but he couldn't utter a single word in rebuttal.

This old woman's mouth was sharper than her butcher's knife; when she opened her mouth, it was like a rain of blades, scraping people's faces until they hurt.

Seeing that things were going badly, the goatee quickly stepped in to smooth things over:

"Don't rush, don't rush. Business is all about negotiation. Sister-in-law, we've just examined it carefully and it is indeed genuine. It's just that your price is too high."

"It had only been a few years since the reform and opening up, and very few people in Shanghai could afford this amount of money. Mr. Jin was willing to pay because he had a strong sense of patriotism and wanted the national treasure to have a good home."

"Bullshit."

Song Xianglan bluntly exposed him, saying, "If he really had a patriotic sentiment, he would donate all the money he made abroad to the country and bring his whole family of children and grandchildren back to be cogs in the machine of socialism."

"When the country faced difficulties and they fled with their gold, silver, and valuables, why didn't we hear about any sentimentality? Now, when they want to bargain for something, sentimentality suddenly comes out? So, sentimentality is like a chamber pot—you can just pull it out and use it if you want?"

The goatee was rendered speechless by the insults.

The bespectacled man, losing face, gritted his teeth and blurted out, "Two million, deal. Take the money and leave immediately."

"Who told you it was two million?" Song Xianglan leaned back in her chair. "Two and a half million."

The room erupted in chaos.

"Are you crazy?" Old Li jumped up and down. "You clearly said two million just now."

"You broke the rules first," Song Xianglan said coldly, "The price was already agreed upon, but you insisted on lowering it at the last minute. You ruined the market, and this 500,000 is the price you pay for your dishonesty."

The goat-bearded man stamped his feet in frustration.

"Sister-in-law, please reconsider. No one in the entire city can afford this painting except us."

"You bunch of scumbags, you think too highly of yourselves." Song Xianglan sneered. "A bunch of frogs at the bottom of a well, never seen the outside world. Take a walk around the stock exchange hall, and you'll see countless big bosses lining up to buy this painting. Do you really think the earth will stop turning without you?"

The tug-of-war has begun again.

Several old men huddled in a corner, whispering amongst themselves.

The bespectacled man had a gloomy expression and kept glancing towards the door.

Chen Zui stood slightly behind Song Xianglan, his gaze casually sweeping across the window.

Across the street, Zhou Fang, wearing an ordinary work jacket, was leisurely passing by the door, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

Chen pretended not to recognize him and casually looked away.

Then he noticed several unfamiliar faces on the street corner, peering at the antique shop.

It seems the other party has also done something underhanded, ready to play dirty tricks at any time.

Half an hour later.

Old Li gritted his teeth and agreed.

He pushed a bankbook and a heavy leather suitcase in front of Song Xianglan.

Because they tried to negotiate the price at the last minute, Song Xianglan insisted on a price of 2.5 million, refusing to sell for even a penny less.

Song Xianglan gestured with her chin toward Xiao Li.

Xiao Li stepped forward, opened the passbook to confirm the amount, then opened the suitcase and quickly rummaged through the banknotes inside.

"The numbers are correct," Xiao Li reported in a low voice.

"Okay." Song Xianglan grabbed her bag, got up, and left.

Chen Zui and Xiao Li, one in front and one behind, protected her as she lifted the curtain and went out.

In the room.

Four old men and the man with glasses gathered around the table, looking at the painting.

The thin old man ran his hand over the drawing paper a few times, his voice trembling: "An authentic work. Absolutely an authentic work."

Goatee let out a sigh of relief and couldn't help but curse, "That old woman is a lunatic. She's so easily startled, and she's scheming against everything."

"Who cares if she's sick or not," Old Li sneered, turning around to dial a number.

"Master Jin," Old Li's tone instantly turned obsequious, "the matter is settled. The painting has been obtained."

After hanging up the phone, the people in the room exchanged smiles.

Jin offered five million. They bought it for two and a half million, and how to divide the rest is a private matter between the brothers.

As for the money Song Xianglan took away, we'll see if she survives to take it.

Outside the antique street.

As soon as Song Xianglan stepped out the door, several migrant workers dressed in ordinary clothes surrounded her and her companions. They circled her and her companions at a distance, and headed straight for the street corner.

Upon seeing this, the strangers who had been watching from the shadows immediately revealed themselves and followed.

I walked to the intersection.

A man wearing a baseball cap walked briskly towards us, and as he brushed past the leader of the migrant workers, he casually slipped a wad of cash into his pocket.

The migrant workers nodded, and the group turned and rushed toward the people who were following them.

A dilapidated bread truck without even a license plate screeched to a halt on the side of the road.

Song Xianglan and the others quickly got into the car.

The person following him panicked and gave chase.

Someone followed in a car.

Several roaring motorcycles rushed out of the alley, crossed the road, and knocked the group of people off balance, cutting off their path. The van sped off and disappeared into the traffic around the corner.

The person following them was covered in exhaust fumes and could only turn back to report dejectedly.

The van weaved through the narrow alleys of the city, shaking off the pursuing car.

After confirming that no one was following.

Song Xianglan and her group changed cars and headed straight for the hotel.

As soon as he entered the room, Chen threw his suitcase onto the bed and rubbed his hands together excitedly.

"Godmother, this is so exciting! Can we pull off a couple more heists?"

"Try to pull off a couple more jobs? Just don't get yourself into trouble with your head." Song Xianglan glanced at him. "It's lucky we've run into such a fool once in our lives."

Chen Zui scratched his head.

"Godmother, what do you think will happen when Master Jin finds out?"

"What can we do?"

Song Xianglan sneered, "That Master Jin's offer must be exorbitant, and these bastards are pocketing the difference behind his back. Once Master Jin discovers the goods are not right, he won't let them off the hook. These old scoundrels have done all sorts of bad things, specializing in swindling and cheating; this is retribution."

Just then, Zhou Fang walked in from outside.

A short while later, Liu Yukun also pushed open the door and entered.

"We've cleaned up the mess." Liu Yukun lowered his voice. "We didn't leave any loose ends, so no one realized it was us."

"Those old bastards actually tried to double-cross me. I'll find some gangsters to test their skills later."

"Okay, thank you for your hard work." Song Xianglan pointed to the suitcase on the bed and the bankbook on the table. "Yukun, take this money to Song Dong and have him deposit it into the foundation's account."

Zhou sat down on the chair next to him.

"Godmother, I need to go to Hunan and Sichuan provinces after I finish my work here. Would you like to come with me to sign the contract on behalf of the Women's Foundation?"

Song Xianglan waved her hand.

"I'm not going." Song Xianglan said with a look of disgust. "The roads are bad these days, a single ride would shake my bones to pieces. Let Huijun go. You go and ask Tingting if she has time, and have them both go together. This foundation is going to be handled by the two of them anyway, I'm not going to those places."

Song Xianglan is old and doesn't want to go to remote places to make a fuss.

Zhou Fang nodded:

"Okay, I'll call and ask later."

Song Xianglan thought for a moment and then instructed, "Don't run around alone. In this remote and impoverished place, take Song west with you, and bring a couple more strong brothers to accompany you. Safety first."

Zhou Fang: "Godmother, don't worry. I already told Xiang Dong before we left. One of Xiang Dong's old comrades will pick us up at the station."

Song Xianglan breathed a sigh of relief and waved for them to go out and rest.

The room quieted down.

Song Xianglan gritted her teeth, shook her right hand that had just chopped the table, and her eyes twitched in pain.

"These bastards, they made me act so arrogantly, it hurts me to death."