◎The Qian You Tong Antique Street Incident◎
The next morning, sunlight spilled through the gaps in the clouds, slipping past Zhong Yao’s loosely drawn bed curtain and gently kissing her cheek.
She frowned at the intrusion of light, then suddenly sat up, her half-open eyes wide with shock.
She had had a nightmare!
In it, she had believed a scammer’s lies, called the firefighters, and later been taken to the station overnight to write a self-criticism for falsely reporting a fire and misusing public resources.
Zhong Yao covered her face in disbelief. How could she dream something so absurd and nonsensical?
She drew back the curtain. Only Chen Xiang sat at her desk, playing with her phone. Zhong Yao asked, “Where’s Si Ning Qing?”
Without taking her eyes off the screen, Chen Xiang casually replied, “Ah Qing just went out to buy breakfast.”
Zhong Yao nodded, got out of bed, and went to the bathroom to freshen up. Just as she grabbed the toothpaste, a sudden “Wocao!” from Chen Xiang outside made her squeeze the tube too hard, causing the toothpaste to shoot out crookedly.
“What’s wrong, Xiang Xiang?” she called out.
“Last night, the Meiwei BBQ Restaurant actually had a gas explosion, the one we went to before! The fire spread to several neighboring shops, but luckily the firefighters arrived in time and no one was injured.”
Zhong Yao had just put the toothbrush in her mouth. Hearing this, she was so startled that she lost control of her hand, the back of the toothbrush hit her gums painfully, making her grimace.
She ran out with the toothbrush still in her mouth, pulled her phone from under her pillow, and saw that after a night of spreading, the news had become the headline of every major outlet. The entire internet was discussing it, even temporarily pausing outrage over a certain celebrity’s tax evasion scandal.
She stared at the news, reading it over and over. Every word was familiar, yet strung together, the meaning seemed almost surreal.
In a daze, she realized: it hadn’t been a dream at all!
Shivering, she held her phone. Something that had once brought her countless joys now felt like a hot potato, she could barely hold onto it.
Chen Xiang continued marveling at the firefighters’ heroism, while Zhong Yao stared blankly, brushing her teeth and washing her face, not sure how to come to terms with the fact that her phone had truly come to life.
Just as she finished, her phone chimed. A notification from Yu Yin appeared on the lock screen.
Wiping the water from her hands, Zhong Yao braced herself, unlocked the phone, and opened the message.
“June 12, 10:49 a.m., An advertising board suddenly fell on Antique Street, hitting the famous antique collector Mr. Qian You Tong. It is reported that Mr. Qian had just acquired a Ming Dynasty Xuande-period celadon blue-and-white porcelain piece. When the board fell, the porcelain shattered, and Mr. Qian was sent to the hospital. We hope he will be safe and unharmed.”
Zhong Yao stared at the full report in disbelief. It was only 9:30 a.m., and without a doubt, this was another display of her conscious phone’s powers.
Qian You Tong’s reputation as an antique collector was renowned beyond the antique community. Even outsiders like Zhong Yao had heard of him.
He was a French-Chinese businessman whose company was famous in France as well. From a young age, he had firmly identified as Chinese, even studying Chinese history in university.
After studying the history of the Anglo-French invasion of China, he had publicly expressed his disgust at their atrocious actions more than once in the media. Later, he repeatedly spent huge sums of money buying back Chinese treasures from French collectors and returning them to the country for free.
What he had done was already enough to move people, yet every time he returned with a batch of antiques, he would still apologize with tears in his eyes: “There are countless Chinese national treasures still in the Louvre. I wish I could do more, but I….”
He choked on his words and couldn’t continue. A man over fifty wept like a child in front of the media.
It was this display of emotion that made countless Chinese remember the name Qian You Tong, including Zhong Yao.
Now, she was being told that Qian You Tong had been hit by a falling advertising board and was in the ICU, fighting for his life. She could hardly believe that such a lifetime-doing-good man could be so unlucky, but the message came from a conscious device, leaving her no choice but to believe it.
There was still an hour before the incident, there was a chance to prevent it.
With that thought, Zhong Yao quickly climbed out of bed, changed clothes at top speed, and rushed out. She opened the door just as Si Ning Qing returned, carrying three breakfasts.
Seeing Zhong Yao in such a hurry, Si Ning Qing curiously asked, “Yao Yao, what’s wrong?”
“I have something I need to take care of immediately.”
Rarely seeing her so anxious, Si Ning Qing didn’t press further. She handed her the breakfast she had brought: “Take this bun and soy milk and eat it on the way.”
Zhong Yao took it, her determination like sprinting 800 meters, and didn’t stop for a second before dashing out of the dorm.
Si Ning Qing divided the remaining breakfast for Chen Xiang and asked, “What’s going on with Yao Yao?”
Chen Xiang, already starving, stuffed a bun into her mouth. Chewing with her mouth full, she mumbled, “I don’t know… maybe she’s in love? Her boyfriend asked her out?”
She had meant it as a casual joke. Zhong Yao had spent three years in college never holding a man’s hand, how could she suddenly have a boyfriend?
But her casual remark made Si Ning Qing instantly tighten her grip on the soy milk cup, which couldn’t withstand the pressure and cracked, spilling soy milk all over her hand.
“You said… boyfriend?” she asked darkly.
Chen Xiang froze mid-chew, stammering, “I-I was joking.”
She really shouldn’t joke in front of this protective sister’s brother. In Si Ning Qing’s mind, Zhong Yao was still like a minor child.
Hearing this, Si Ning Qing’s anger slowly dissipated. “It better be a joke.”
If any man dared to lay a hand on his sister, he’d make sure to ruin him.
In the north of Dongchuan City, there was a famous Antique Street. Running north-south, it was lined on both sides with dense shops, some selling jade, some selling porcelain, attracting countless people hoping to strike it rich.
Zhong Yao didn’t understand or care about antique hunting. She had never been to this street before and, to avoid wasting time getting lost, she simply called a car straight to the destination.
The driver was friendly and chatty. Seeing that she was a young girl, he assumed she was also interested in antique gambling and chatted with her all the way.
Zhong Yao didn’t really want to engage with him, but she didn’t know how to refuse either, so she could only respond to the driver half-heartedly, one sentence at a time.
At last, they reached the destination. Zhong “socially anxious” Yao let out a sigh of relief, quickly unbuckled her seat belt, and got out of the car. The driver grinned and called after her, “Miss, don’t forget to leave a good review later.”
She nodded. Although the driver was a bit too familiar, it was precisely because of that that Zhong Yao had learned quite a lot about this antique street.
It turned out that the reason this street attracted such heavy foot traffic was that every year there were a few “chosen ones” who struck gold here, buying genuine items worth tens of thousands or even millions at extremely low prices.
These success stories inspired countless people to come try their luck. Even though most returned empty-handed, having lost money on fakes or worthless stones, their enthusiasm was never dampened.
As Zhong Yao walked in, she curiously observed the tightly packed shops on both sides. Perhaps in pursuit of an antique, classical feel, most of the shops used wooden interiors, and the lighting inside was carefully arranged. Shining on those “treasures,” it made every item sparkle as if it were an authentic masterpiece.
Along the street, there were also people sitting directly on the ground, spreading out worn cloths with dull, grayish items laid on top.
To an outsider like Zhong Yao, items casually placed on the ground naturally looked far less impressive than those exquisitely displayed inside shops.
However, the driver had just mentioned that many genuine pieces actually came from these unassuming items casually tossed on the ground. And since setting up a stall didn’t require paying rent, the prices were more affordable, which was why the stalls attracted even more people.
While taking in her surroundings, Zhong Yao quickly searched for the shop where Qian You Tong’s accident was supposed to happen.
At the same time, inside a calligraphy and painting shop on Antique Street, a middle-aged man with a hunched back, wearing a T-shirt washed so many times it had faded white, stood timidly in front of a painting, an eerie look in his eyes.
He didn’t notice that not far away, several tall, well-built men were pretending to carefully select calligraphy and paintings, while secretly observing him.
A man in a white shirt, dressed with meticulous refinement, never took his eyes off the middle-aged man. He raised a hand and lightly tapped the Bluetooth earpiece by his ear, lowering his voice as he said, “Secure the perimeter and stay alert. Don’t let anyone else approach this shop.”
After speaking, he slightly turned and leaned toward the casually dressed man beside him, smiling as he said, “Captain Meng, we’ll have to trouble you for more help later.”
Captain Meng was fully focused on the landscape painting on a fan in front of him. According to the shop owner’s note, it was an original by Master Meisheng, though whether it was authentic was anyone’s guess.
Hearing this, he nodded indifferently and said, “If you want, I can put him in cuffs right now.”
He was acting under orders to cooperate with the investigation bureau, but that didn’t mean he agreed with their way of doing things. They clearly already had concrete evidence of the suspect’s crimes, yet they were still waiting for him to display some so-called supernatural ability.
It was sheer nonsense, where in the world did such bizarre, superstitious things exist?
Although both were serving the country, their responsibilities lay in completely different fields. Xing Chu had never expected others to understand their work. The fact that Captain Meng, despite his mild dissatisfaction, had continued to cooperate already pleasantly surprised him. As such, he didn’t pursue the issue of attitude and instead instructed the other team members: “Xiao Li, go test him. Be careful and protect yourself.”
As soon as the words fell, a man in a baseball cap walked up and deliberately bumped into the middle-aged man. The man stumbled from the impact. He hadn’t wanted to cause trouble, but to his surprise, the one who bumped into him looked aggrieved instead, brushing the spot on his suit where they had touched, his face full of disgust.
“How unlucky!”
“You bumped into me and didn’t apologize, and you’re calling me unlucky?” the man exclaimed, anger surging.
Xiao Li looked arrogant and overbearing, his eyes slanted upward, lips curled as he sneered, “Look at how filthy you are, stinking all over. It’s your honor that I bumped into you. You, on the other hand, ruined my suit. Do you think someone as scrawny as you could even afford to pay for it??”
That expression stabbed straight into the man’s deeply buried sense of inferiority. He clenched his teeth, eyes turning red, when suddenly a ball of blue light appeared out of thin air in his palm, looking eerily strange. He roared, “People like you who despise the poor and fawn over the rich all deserve to die!”