Zheng Wanwan had already learned to ignore Pei Lan’s “shameless” behavior. After all, there was nothing she could do about him — she was no match for him in a war of words, and she fell far short of him in cunning as well.
“Are you sure you want to go out dressed like that?” Zheng Wanwan held a pair of pruning shears in her hand, a look of disdain on her face.
Pei Lan wore a white shirt with no buttons other than the high-collar Chinese-style frog closures — dignified yet stylish.
A pair of black-framed glasses sat on his straight, prominent nose bridge. At first glance, anyone would think he was a steady, “honest man.”
“Wife, there’s something I’d like to ask for your help with.” Pei Lan said as he walked toward the courtyard.
Zheng Wanwan set down the shears and looked at Pei Lan seriously. She was actually a little curious, since he rarely asked her for anything.
“I need to appraise a piece of calligraphy and painting today, and I need someone to protect me up close.” Pei Lan said with a perfectly straight face.
Zheng Wanwan thought it over carefully. Pei Lan seemed to spend more time reading than doing physical things — his hands-on abilities were lacking. “Can’t you hire a bodyguard?” The company’s bodyguards were all professionally trained, and many of them even surpassed her in skill.
“The main thing is that I can’t let the other party notice that I’ve brought anyone along.” Pei Lan said as he wrapped an arm around Zheng Wanwan’s waist. “Is that alright, wife?”
Zheng Wanwan thought to herself that she’d finally gotten two days off, but since Pei Lan had already asked, and it concerned his safety, she certainly wouldn’t refuse.
“Then wait a moment — I’ll go change.” Zheng Wanwan went to change her clothes.
Behind his glasses, Pei Lan’s eyes darkened with a suppressed emotion. He had read books on psychology. When Zheng Wanwan was at work, being around people was fine, but when she was left alone at home, her mood would sink, and she could even fall into uncontrollable pessimistic thoughts.
Slow and steady — that was the only way to lead her out of the shadows.
Zheng Wanwan chose a pair of flat leather shoes, which would make it easier to move around without compromising her outfit.
“Let’s go.” Zheng Wanwan had pinned her hair up. Because she had such a gentle appearance, no matter how she dressed, she always looked harmless — even a little easy to push around.
Pei Lan took Zheng Wanwan’s handbag and opened the front door.
Zheng Wanwan’s gaze drifted to Pei Lan’s waistline. He wasn’t wearing a jacket — he’d simply tucked his shirt into his trousers, but that only made his legs look even longer…
“If you like what you see, wife, you can take a closer look when we get home.” Pei Lan opened the car door, his voice low and tinged with barely concealed amusement.
Zheng Wanwan pulled the seatbelt across herself and buckled it. The blade of “lust” hangs over one’s head — the consequence of being a lecher was…
a feast for the eyes.
When the two arrived at the agreed-upon teahouse, Zheng Wanwan could barely hold it together, because the moment they reached the entrance, she could already hear the sound of an erhu being played upstairs.
The fragrance of tea mingled with the gentle breeze, dispelling the summer’s restlessness. The tranquil environment was exceptionally soothing.
On the first floor, behind the jujube-wood counter, rows of tea chests lined the wall. Pei Lan, with his arm around Zheng Wanwan’s waist, passed several tables and went straight up to the second floor.
Zheng Wanwan reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear and said in a low voice, “Even Dad wouldn’t necessarily come to a place like this, yet you are insistently fond of it.””
“Then next time, I’ll let my wife choose the meeting spot.” Pei Lan said, glancing down at Zheng Wanwan beside him.
The moment the two reached the second floor, the sound of the erhu stopped. The other party had already arrived. What Zheng Wanwan hadn’t expected was that they turned out to be a group of foreigners — with deep-set eyes, high-bridged noses, and large nose tips.
“Mr. Pei, hello.” The man at the front greeted Pei Lan in awkward Mandarin.
Pei Lan extended his hand and shook it. “Mr. Toro, no need to be so formal.” He released his grip and made an introduction. “This is my wife, Zheng Wanwan.”
The man glanced at Zheng Wanwan and smiled as he extended his hand. “I didn’t expect Mr. Pei to already be married.”
Zheng Wanwan found this kind of pleasantry tiresome, so she merely responded with a polite acknowledgment.
Just then, the sound of an erhu suddenly rang out—a leisurely, unhurried melody. Zheng Wanwan couldn’t help but glance over.
Pei Lan pushed up his glasses.
The country had many cultural relics stolen and smuggled abroad, but because the statute of limitations for repatriation had passed, with no clear legislation allowing for their recovery, the only options were donations or commercial purchases to bring them back.
After Toro sat down, the bodyguard beside him placed an exquisite box on the tea table.
Pei Lan put on a pair of disposable gloves. Inside was a silk painting depicting deities, constellations, and dragons with phoenixes and serpentine bodies. This painting was used for summoning the soul—what the common folk called a funeral banner, placed over the coffin after a person passed away…
Zheng Wanwan leaned back in her chair. Pei Lan examined it with great care, not missing a single detail. He leaned down and pressed his face close to it, taking a sniff.
This painting was at least two thousand years old.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Toro, but this painting is a forgery.” Pei Lan picked up the tea beside him and took a sip.
Toro’s expression soured instantly. “Mr. Pei, I paid over seventy million to win this painting at auction. You’re telling me it’s a fake?”
“This silk painting should consist of three panels, and one of them should depict the tomb owner’s portrait.” Pei Lan pointed with his finger. “The border here is painted with images of true dragons, but soul-summoning banners are typically painted with flood dragons.”
Zheng Wanwan lowered her head to take a look. Weren’t they all the same? How did he manage to tell them apart…
“Impossible! Absolutely impossible!” Toro shot to his feet, glaring at Pei Lan. “I thought Mr. Pei was someone with discerning taste, but it seems you’re nothing more than that.”
Pei Lan stood up as well. “My wife really likes this painting. If Mr. Toro is willing to part with it, I’d be happy to pay two hundred yuan to buy it.”
Zheng Wanwan’s heart skipped a beat. The man said he’d paid over seventy million for it, and he was offering two hundred yuan to buy it.
Had he never been beaten before?
The moment Toro heard this, he became agitated. “You—don’t insult people like that.”
“I have no intention of insulting you, Toro. This painting is a forgery. There’s an antique market not far from here—haggle a bit and you can get a replica for a hundred yuan that’s far superior to this one.” Pei Lan pushed up his glasses, his expression perfectly serious.
Zheng Wanwan: “…” She should have known better than to come.
This was a direct invitation to get beaten up. And just moments ago he’d been so polite—why had he suddenly become so insulting?
The bodyguard behind Toro stepped forward, but the old man playing the erhu got scared. He stood up abruptly, his chair toppling over. The bodyguard, caught off guard, tripped and fell flat on the ground.
Zheng Wanwan winced just looking at it—he’d knocked out his teeth, his mouth full of blood.
Toro was so furious he flung his hand in a dismissive gesture.
“Let’s talk things through calmly. There’s no need for Mr. Toro to be this angry.” Pei Lan reached out and shielded Zheng Wanwan behind him.
“Don’t block my way,” Zheng Wanwan said in a low voice, pulling a folding knife straight from her waist. This thing was handy—as long as your aim was true, it wouldn’t kill, but it would definitely stop someone in their tracks.
Pei Lan took off his glasses and handed them to Zheng Wanwan. He kicked out with one foot, and thanks to his height and long legs, the man stumbled back several steps.
Zheng Wanwan watched the scene before her with wide eyes. Pei Lan, dressed in dress pants and leather shoes, moved with clean, crisp precision—his fists steady, accurate, and fierce. She had never seen him like this.
He was always that refined, scholarly type, occasionally letting out some rogue remarks in private, but that never stopped him from being a proper gentleman.
Within less than a minute, all of Toro’s bodyguards were on the ground, and the surrounding tables and chairs were in complete disarray.
“I’m not particularly fond of this kind of communication. What do you think, Mr. Toro?” he said, moving his foot off the bodyguard’s head.
Toro’s face flushed red, his pupils dilated. “You just wait,” he said, turning to grab the silk painting from the table before storming downstairs.
Several bodyguards scrambled up from the floor and followed behind Toro.
Zheng Wanwan held onto Pei Lan’s arm and peeked out from the side: “What exactly did you come here for?” She had every reason to suspect he was just here to pick a fight and vent his frustration.
“Sweetheart, there’s an antique street next door. Want to go browse?” Pei Lan didn’t directly answer Zheng Wanwan’s question.
Zheng Wanwan didn’t want to go to some antique street at all. She didn’t know anything about it, and it all looked the same to her anyway.
Pei Lan took his glasses from Zheng Wanwan’s hand and put them on, then righted the tables and chairs back to their original positions: “Then how about we go to the street across the way and buy a few handbags to take home?”
“I don’t want to go on a date with you,” Zheng Wanwan said, feeling her previous answer had been too tactful.
Pei Lan picked up his tea and took a sip, his face wearing a look of disappointment—like a freshly bought ice cream that fell to the ground before he could even take a bite.
Just then, the old man who had been playing the erhu came back. He fumbled around, placed his instrument case on the floor, and started playing again.
Zheng Wanwan furrowed her brow. That old man had run off pretty fast earlier—down the stairs in just a few steps. He didn’t seem like someone with vision problems at all.
“I’m going to the restroom. Wait for me a moment,” Zheng Wanwan said as she headed downstairs.
Pei Lan leaned against the table, his gaze fixed on the old man playing the erhu.
The old man stood up, bent over respectfully, and gave Pei Lan a bow.
When Zheng Wanwan returned, Pei Lan was already standing at the entrance of the teahouse downstairs, holding a tea package, waiting for her.
“Who would’ve thought Professor Pei’s legs were this good,” Zheng Wanwan couldn’t help teasing. That fluid, effortless movement just now wasn’t something you could develop overnight.
Seeing that no one was around, Pei Lan leaned close to Zheng Wanwan’s ear: “Compared to my legs, I’d rather you praise something else about me…” His voice was deep and magnetic, his words laced with ambiguity.
Zheng Wanwan instinctively thought of his waist: “Shameless.” She turned her head to look around.
“What I meant was, you could praise how well I tell bedtime stories,” Pei Lan said with a serious tone.
Zheng Wanwan: “…” Who in their right mind goes out with him? She might as well stay home watering the flowers!
In the end, Zheng Wanwan still couldn’t escape her fate of going to the antique street with Pei Lan. She glanced around casually, and whenever she saw something pretty, she’d have Pei Lan negotiate the price.
“Professor Pei, you’re a man with discerning eyes. I won’t cheat you—take this for five hundred thousand.” A middle-aged woman stood up, handing a magnifying glass to Pei Lan as she spoke.
Zheng Wanwan tugged at Pei Lan’s sleeve. She just thought it looked nice and could be used as a flowerpot at home, but for five hundred thousand, no way.
That would make her a total sucker.
“Fifty yuan, I’ll buy a pair. My wife likes them,” Pei Lan said, pulling a hundred-yuan bill from his pocket and handing it to the stall owner.
The middle-aged woman balked. “A hundred yuan, and I’m not making change. Fifty yuan for two—Professor Lan, you’re too ruthless.”
The people around couldn’t help but laugh. “You picked the wrong person to swindle. You tried to swindle him?”
“Professor Lan, come over and take a look at this for me. I just acquired it a couple days ago,” a middle-aged man called out loudly.
Zheng Wanwan felt a pang of heartache. How much money would a person have to burn through to end up like this?
Pei Lan walked over. His slender fingertips traced over the object. “Sweetheart, do you like it?”
“If it can hold flowers, I like it,” Zheng Wanwan said. She figured the thing was probably worth at most fifty or eighty yuan.
Pei Lan directly handed the item to Zheng Wanwan. “I’ll transfer five hundred thousand to your card when we get back.”
“Huh?”
Zheng Wanwan nearly dropped it. “What do you mean, five hundred thousand?!” She took a serious look at the thing in her hands. At best, it could hold a succulent. Five hundred thousand?
“Here, take it back. I don’t want it,” Zheng Wanwan said, moving to hand it back to the stall owner.
The stall owner shook her head and stepped back. “A deal is a deal—no returns.” Generally, once an item left your sight, it couldn’t be returned. Whether for appraisal or anything else, it had to be done in front of the stall owner. The moment you turned around, the thing was yours.
Whether you wanted it or not.
That was the rule.
Zheng Wanwan felt her head spinning. Five hundred thousand! She held it carefully in her hands. “You reckless spendthrift.”
She couldn’t hold it in anymore.
Wah wah—a succulent pot bought for five hundred thousand. It wasn’t that she didn’t have the money, but she felt the money wasn’t worth it at all.
Pei Lan smiled and wrapped his arm around Zheng Wanwan’s waist, then walked into an antique shop. The owner spotted Pei Lan and immediately greeted him.
“Professor Lan, I’ve been waiting for you! Got anything good this time?” The owner rubbed his hands together like a fly grooming its legs. “What are you standing around for? Brew some tea for Professor Lan.”
Pei Lan casually handed the “flowerpot” Zheng Wanwan had been holding to the owner.
The owner took it back and examined it carefully for a moment, then slapped his thigh. “Professor Lan, where did you get this?”
“Bought it from a friend for eight hundred thousand,” Pei Lan said, adjusting his glasses.
Zheng Wanwan: “…” What nonsense was he talking? Didn’t he just buy it from the street vendor for five hundred thousand?
The owner looked at Pei Lan, then said with a grin, “Professor Lan, you’re not short on cash anyway. How about letting me have it at cost?” He scratched the back of his head. “It’s like this—there’s a bit of trouble at home…”
“Fine,” Pei Lan agreed without even letting the owner finish.
“Great. I’ll transfer the money to your account shortly,” the owner said, and even wrapped up a package of premium tea leaves for Pei Lan.
After they walked out, Zheng Wanwan gritted her teeth. “So this is how you make money?” She’d always wondered where his money came from.
In less than eight hundred steps, he’d flipped it and made three hundred thousand.
“The vendor thought he sold me a fake and made fifty thousand in profit—he’s happy. The owner thinks he got one over on me—he’s happy too. What’s wrong with that?” Pei Lan said, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket. He was about to light it when he saw Zheng Wanwan glaring at him.
Pei Lan wasn’t a heavy smoker, but he hadn’t had a single cigarette since leaving the house, and he was feeling a bit antsy because of it.
“If you smoke, I’m going home. I don’t like the smell.” Zheng Wanwan said, pressing her hand against her nose and making a disgusted face.
Pei Lan had no choice but to put the cigarette away.
Quite a few people greeted Pei Lan along the way. Aside from that three hundred thousand earlier, Pei Lan hadn’t made much money over the next three hours.
After all, opportunities like that were rare—sometimes you wouldn’t come across one for a year or more.
Zheng Wanwan had picked up a bunch of flower pots, and thankfully the bodyguard was there to carry them.
After the meal, Pei Lan sat in the car while Zheng Wanwan leaned back in her seat. She couldn’t help but feel that this day was more exhausting than going to work.
“Honey, any plans for tomorrow?” Pei Lan said, gripping the steering wheel.
Zheng Wanwan answered without a second thought: “Tomorrow I’m going to relax my body and mind and accept the generous gifts of nature.”
In other words, she was going to accompany her old father on a fishing trip…
“You’ve accepted nature’s gifts, honey—how about accepting my mother’s gift too?” Pei Lan said, barely holding back a smile.
Zheng Wanwan didn’t catch on at first, thinking her mother-in-law had prepared something nice for her: “Sure.”
“Great, I’ll give it to you today then.” Pei Lan pushed up his glasses as he finished speaking.
A low chuckle rang out, and Zheng Wanwan finally caught on!!