Divine Eye Appraisal: Starting with a Lucky Pickup of a Beautiful CEO's Family Heirloom

The hum of the air conditioner in the lobby sounded like a fly buzzing incessantly.

Wen Zhaoye stood across the long table, his palms still slightly sweaty from holding the account book. The head of the judging panel stood up and adjusted his reading glasses: "The ban is—temporarily rescinded."

Qian Bohong sat in the chair, without moving.

He still had a forced smile on his face, but it was about to burst out.

"Alright." Qian Bohong also stood up, brushing non-existent dust off his suit. "Then today's hearing will..."

"Wait." Wen Zhaoye's voice wasn't loud, but everyone in the hall could hear it.

Qian Bohong stopped and turned to look at him. "Is there anything else?"

Wen Zhaoye opened the black leather ledger and turned to the third page.

"There's one more thing I'd like to confirm with Director Qian."

He raised his head and looked into Qian Bohong's eyes.

"In Bao Dequan's account book, there is a record: Three years ago, my grandmother Zhou Guilan spent 280,000 yuan to buy an old mine glass-type jade bracelet at Yumantang."

The hall fell silent.

"The purchase price was two hundred, but it's actually a B-grade product," Wen Zhaoye continued. "The remarks column says 'Master Qian'."

Qian Bohong's expression changed.

It wasn't the kind of change that causes a huge shock, but rather the kind that makes your lips twitch and your eyelids twitch.

"Mr. Wen," Qian Bohong said, "I've already said, the ledgers only prove Bao Dequan's fraud, not yours—"

"It has nothing to do with me?" Wen Zhaoye interrupted him. "You're right, it has nothing to do with me."

He pulled a yellowed receipt from between the pages of the ledger and placed it on the table.

"This is a copy of Bao Dequan's purchase record, with the remarks column reading 'Master Qian'."

He paused, "But what I want Director Qian to see is this line of text on the side."

He pointed to a line of lighter pencil writing on the edge of the receipt.

"Master Qian, pick up the goods, March 17, 2020, Jinguan East Road."

Qian Bohong's hand trembled slightly.

"Director Qian," Wen Zhaoye said, "Is Jinguan East Road the street where your antique shop is located?"

Yu Tinglan stood in the back row, her gaze fixed on Qian Bohong's hand.

He was frozen in place, as if the pause button had been pressed.

"Mr. Wen," Qian Bohong said in a low voice, "what are you implying?"

"I'm not implying anything," Wen Zhaoye said. "I'm simply stating the facts."

He picked up the receipt and laid it flat on the table so that everyone on the judging panel could see it clearly.

"Director Qian, do you recognize this handwriting?"

In the lobby, the hum of the air conditioner grew even louder.

The head of the judging panel put on his reading glasses, looked closely, and then looked up at Qian Bohong.

"Director Qian, this is indeed you—"

"Enough." Qian Bohong interrupted him, his voice as cold as ice. "Wen Zhaoye, are you here to cause trouble today?"

"No," Wen Zhaoye said. "I'm here to prove that my grandmother's 280,000 yuan wasn't swindled away by Bao Dequan alone."

He paused, looking into Qian Bohong's eyes.

"It's you."

The hall erupted in chaos.

In the audience, some people stood up, some took out their phones, and some whispered to the people next to them.

The camera is still recording, the red dot flashing on and off.

Yu Tinglan's fingers stopped on her knee. She looked at Qian Bohong with an indescribable look in her eyes.

It wasn't surprise, it was confirmation.

Qian Bohong gritted his teeth, and his lips twitched slightly.

"Young man," he said, "you'll get what's coming to you with that mouth of yours sooner or later."

"I'm just telling the truth," Wen Zhaoye said. "Director Qian, you know how much dirty money you took from Bao Dequan. You also know how many counterfeit goods you laundered for the Lin family."

He paused, his voice as calm as if he were saying that the weather was nice today.

"You don't want your grandma's 280,000 yuan anymore?"

Wen Zhaoye looked at him without saying a word.

"I can repay your grandmother's debt," Qian Bohong said, "but not because I'm guilty, but because..."

That's enough.

Yu Tinglan's voice came from the back row. It wasn't loud, but every word seemed to be nailed to Qian Bohong's face.

She stood up, walked to the front row, and stood next to Wen Zhaoye.

"Director Qian," Yu Tinglan said, "I recorded what you just said."

Qian Bohong's expression changed completely.

"You..." "I have a copy of Wen Zhaoye's account book."

Yu Tinglan said, "I recorded what you just said about 'returning the money.' If you don't think this money is yours, then what are you feeling guilty about?"

Qian Bohong opened his mouth, but couldn't say anything.

Wen Zhaoye looked at Yu Tinglan and paused for a moment.

Yu Tinglan didn't look at him, but just stood beside him, like a silent shield.

Qian Bohong tapped his fingers three times on the edge of the table, then stopped.

He seemed to have all his strength drained away, and slowly leaned back in his chair.

"Okay," he said. "Okay."

He looked at Wen Zhaoye with an indescribable look in his eyes: not hatred, but resignation.

"You win."

He stood up, turned around, and walked towards the door.

He stopped at the door and glanced back at Wen Zhaoye.

"But your grandmother's score isn't over yet."

He pushed open the door and went out.

The door slammed shut with a bang, echoing down the corridor.

The head of the judging panel took off his reading glasses, rubbed his temples, and then looked at Wen Zhaoye.

"Mr. Wen, the association will carefully verify your evidence. The ban has been lifted, and you can operate normally now."

Wen Zhaoye nodded, bent down and put the account books and documents into the canvas bag.

He straightened up and glanced at Yu Tinglan.

"Thanks."

Yu Tinglan didn't speak, she just nodded.

The two walked out of the hall, the corridor was empty, and Qian Bohong's figure had disappeared around the corner of the stairs.

Wen Zhaoye stood at the entrance of the hall, looking at the gray sky over the provincial capital, and took a deep breath.

"We won the hearing."

Yu Tinglan said, "Mm."

"But the real storm has only just begun."

Yu Tinglan didn't speak, but just stood next to him, looking at the clouds in the distance.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor behind them—someone had come chasing after them.

"Mr. Wen!"

Wen Zhaoye turned around and saw the head of the review panel standing at the door, holding an envelope in his hand.

"This is the association's official notification," the team leader said. "The ban is lifted, and you can go back to opening your shop."

Wen Zhaoye took the envelope and nodded.

"Thank you, team leader."

The team leader looked at him, remained silent for a few seconds, and then said, "Your eyes are quite nice."

He turned and walked back into the hall.

Wen Zhaoye stood at the door, looking at the envelope in his hand, and then at the gray sky over the provincial capital.

He took out his phone and sent Qin Fei a message: "The ban has been lifted. Qian Bohong said that Grandma's score isn't over yet."

After sending the message, he put his phone back in his pocket and headed for the stairs.

Yu Tinglan followed beside him, remained silent for a few seconds, and then asked, "What are you planning to do next?"

"Go back and open the shop," Wen Zhaoye said. "Then, wait for Qian Bohong's next move."

Yu Tinglan didn't speak, but her steps were lighter than when she came.