hollywood billionaire

Chapter 553 The Collection Sequence of the Han Couple

The elevators leading to other floors in Argossi are not located on the ground floor, but rather tucked away quietly in a small alcove opposite the wooden entrance door. Without prior research, it's easy to miss this unassuming metal grille door, which looks like a back-office passageway.

The metal door, covered with layers of rust accumulated over decades, was a thick, bronze-colored surface, and was covered with fine scratches etched by time. The old man held onto the railing, and with a slight effort, accompanied by a rough, metallic creaking sound, the door was pulled open horizontally, revealing the equally antique sedan chair inside.

The interior of the elevator car featured warm oak paneling, polished to a smooth, lustrous finish that reflected the dim, yellowish light from a bulb encased in a milky-white glass shade. The floor was dark red terrazzo, with slight signs of wear along the edges. The space was small, accommodating only four or five people, and a faint smell of engine oil mingled with the aroma of old wood filled the air.

"Please come in, gentlemen."

After Han Yi and Xiao Ru entered the elevator together, the old man followed them in. He turned around and carefully closed the outer metal grille door and the inner folding grille door one after the other. Then, he found the round lever that controlled the elevator, pulled it all the way to the right, and the elevator shook slightly. Then, the hum of the motor starting and the sound of the rope twisting came from above, and it slowly began to rise.

Given how old it was, you can imagine how fast the elevator could go.

This gave the three people in the elevator a little time to chat.

“This elevator has been with us since the first day the bookstore opened.” The old man smiled at Han Yi and Xu Yiru. “It has undergone some renovations, but it has never been replaced… By the way, my name is Albert, and it’s a pleasure to meet you both today.”

“Han.” Han Yi grasped Albert’s outstretched hand. “Yi-Han, and Grace-Xu… Chinese people don’t take their husband’s surname.”

Upon hearing this, Xiaoru secretly pinched him, her undisguised joy quietly creeping onto her face.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Albert," Xu Yiru said with a polite smile, shaking hands with Albert.

“Eagle, Grace, it’s a pleasure to meet such a young couple who love books so much.” Albert was like the widowed professor next door, his smile full of kindness and his eyes full of wisdom.

“We are also very happy to meet you,” Han Yi replied. “Thank you for all your help today.”

"It's an honor." Albert bowed slightly. At that moment, the view of the sixth floor slowly appeared before them through the grille. When the elevator finally came to a stop, Albert took action again, this time with Han Yi's help, pulling open the inner gate and the outer metal door. With another creak and clang, a brand new and wondrous world unfolded before their eyes.

"The second floor of the bookstore mainly features used books on language, art, politics, culture, and travel from all over the United States, while the third floor has used books on similar themes from all over the world. The fourth and fifth floors mainly house maps, prints, and other artworks, while the sixth floor that you see here is the essence of the entire bookstore. Argosy's most valuable collection, if not being maintained in a warehouse in Brooklyn, is right here in this room."

As Albert introduced them, what first caught their eyes was not the dense bookshelves they had imagined, but a warm and retro-style living room that resembled a private club reading room.

Beneath my feet lay an oriental rug with intricate patterns and slightly worn edges. To the left, against the wall, stood several dark brown leather sofas, their soft leather bearing the fine lines of years of use. Beside the sofas stood a floor lamp with a brass base and a crepe lampshade, casting a warm yellow glow. A heavy solid wood desk sat casually in the corner, upon which, besides an old-fashioned desk lamp, lay several open catalogs, a magnifying glass, and a fountain pen, as if its owner had just left a moment ago.

The layout of the entire space doesn't resemble a commercial area open to the public; rather, it's more like the comfortable and private retirement home of a learned and discerning collector, where every detail reveals a sense of composure and elegance accumulated over the years.

However, this relaxing reception room was merely a prelude. Moving the gaze to the right, the scene opened up dramatically. Rows of floor-to-ceiling dark oak bookshelves, like silent and loyal soldiers, stood neatly arranged, stretching to the horizon. Wide aisles existed between the bookshelves, and a more serene and solemn atmosphere permeated the air. Unlike downstairs, many of the bookshelves here had glass doors, through which one could glimpse the treasures hidden within: folios with gilded leather covers, ancient atlases still vividly colored, and copperplate prints in exquisite frames…

In the center of the bookshelf area stood a service counter. The counter, too, was made of heavy solid wood, polished to a mirror-like shine. Behind it sat two staff members wearing pristine white cotton gloves. One, an older woman with graying hair and gold-rimmed glasses, was carefully cleaning the dust from the title pages of an open, large book with a soft brush, her movements as gentle as if stroking a baby's cheek. The other, a much younger man who appeared to be an intern, also wore glasses and white gloves. He was meticulously checking the condition of several rolled-up maps on a nearby cart against a list, his expression focused and attentive.

They were engrossed in their own world and didn't immediately notice the arrival of the new visitors. This quiet and professional atmosphere made the entire sixth-floor space feel more like a restoration room for rare books than a marketplace where they could be freely traded. Han Yi and Xiao Ru both held their breath, afraid of disturbing the tranquility of the space and the cultural treasures that had slumbered through time.

“Please feel free to browse. If you see anything that interests you, or need any assistance, you can ask Deborah and Tony over there at the counter.” Albert didn’t lower his voice, since there were no other customers on this floor besides Han Yi and Xu Yiru. He raised his arm and greeted the two staff members at the counter who finally looked up, “Good afternoon, guys. I’ve brought you two distinguished guests. Please take good care of them.”

After giving his instructions, Albert said goodbye to the two and turned back into the elevator. There was no such thing as sales commission at Argosy Bookstore, and Albert himself didn't care about the money. This job was simply a way for him to pass the time since he retired last year.

Rather than accompanying Han Yi and Xu Yiru through the collection, Albert would rather help them finish wrapping the books they hadn't yet finished, and then continue reading "A Head Full of Ghosts," which he was already halfway through.

The young couple prefers old artifacts, while the elderly Albert favors trendy newcomers, such as this horror novel by Paul Tremblay, which was published just last year.

That's how humans are; they spend their entire lives chasing after distant places, whether those distant places are in front of them or behind them.

"Good afternoon, both of you."

Deborah took off her gold-rimmed glasses, picked up two pairs of white cotton gloves from the counter, and approached Han Yi and Xu Yiru with a big smile.

"Please put on gloves before you begin your tour, as many of the items here are very precious and fragile. Most of the books are on the left, while maps and other artworks are on the right. Please feel free to call me if you have any questions."

"Thank you."

The two thanked each other quietly, and then, quite tacitly, put gloves on each other.

The moment the cotton touched his skin, a sense of solemnity and ritual, as if he were browsing an antique bookstore, began to rise in Han Yi's heart.

"That's more like it," Han Yi muttered to himself. "I knew it! How could just anyone touch those ancient books? If we ran into one or two unruly and unreasonable people, wouldn't we be completely finished?"

Xu Yiru did not respond to her boyfriend's words, but gave him a sweet smile, and then, as usual, took his hand and walked towards the rows of bookshelves behind the counter.

The number of books, maps, prints, and other artworks on display here is significantly less than on the first floor. A single display case often contains only five or six, or even just three or four, items. They are carefully spaced apart, and each item has a metal plaque on its right side, engraved with a lengthy and complex description.

This gives a glimpse into the scarcity and rarity of the Argossi apex collection.

Upon approaching the display area, the first treasure placed in front of them surprised Han Yi and Xu Yiru.

This is a meticulously framed piece in a black and gold, early American-style protective frame. At the center of the frame is a sculpted portrait of George Washington, below which lies a large, signed document that reads, "Your most obedient servant – G. Washington." Surrounding the signature are exquisite original botanical specimens, with watercolor-painted tendrils connecting them. Xiaoru and her boyfriend exchanged a glance, then their gaze fell on the accompanying label: "The portrait was painted by Anthony Wotmueller in Philadelphia in 1795. The signature comes from a letter between George Washington and a friend, dated 1753."

"If I remember correctly, that was before the Battle of Fort Necessary," Han Yi recalled. "Washington in 1753 wasn't yet the Commander-in-Chief of the Continental Army."

"What score did you get on your SAT II US History test?" Xiaoru opened her mouth, somewhat surprised.

“800,” Han Yi glanced at his girlfriend. “Aren’t you the same?”

“I forgot you did too, so I’m a little surprised.” Xiaoru frowned slightly, tilting her head as she thought and thought—she seemed to remember that there was someone else who got full marks in both American history and world history, or at least a second person who did as well.

Who was it? Why can't I remember them all of a sudden?

Forget it, I don't want to think about it anymore. My date is more important.

"And I didn't expect that you would still remember after so much time has passed."

“I definitely don’t remember the details. If you asked me to look at Jacob Ries’s photos now and answer questions about industrialization in the late 19th century, I’d be completely lost. But I can still remember the basic timelines. I don’t know about anything else, but I’m confident in that.” Han Yi answered while glancing at the price at the bottom of the information board. “This autograph costs $17,500… I don’t know whether to say it’s worth it or not.”

“I feel it’s a bit…not really worth it.” Xiaoru shook her head. “Although it has the signature of the founding president, it’s just a correspondence between a friend and a friend, so it doesn’t have any historical significance. The only collectible value is that the person who signed it is George Washington.”

"I feel so too."

"At about the same price, this one next to it seems more collectible."

“John Adams.” Following the direction of the small finger, Han Yi’s gaze fell on another handwritten document.

Both paintings feature black and gold frames, with a sculpted portrait on the upper half, but the text on the lower half is quite different. It's a single-page, folded document; the paper is yellowed, with irregular edges showing signs of age, but overall remarkably well-preserved. The paper is rough yet sturdy, typical of the handmade paper of that era. The handwriting is in cursive English, written with iron-coated ink, the ink deep and clear, still legible despite being over two centuries old. Most striking is a powerful, bold signature in the lower right corner: "John Adams."

“This is a document personally signed by John Adams during the war, and a promissory note issued on October 24, 1780, payable to Thomas Stone, a fellow patriot and signatory of the Declaration of Independence—an American plantation owner from Maryland,” Han Yi read aloud. “This document was signed the day before the passage of the Massachusetts Constitution drafted by Adams, and it concerned matters related to the purchase of imported clean tobacco at a significant discount.”

"'I hereby promise to pay Thomas Stone or his designated representative two thousand pounds of imported tobacco, with interest accruing as agreed, until full payment. I have received the goods from Stone...and have also received seventy-three pounds and fifteen shillings.'" Han Yi couldn't quite understand the English cursive script, but Xu Yiru had no trouble reading it. She read the original letter directly: "'This is to bear witness, October 24, 1780'."

"What do you think John Adams intended to do with those two thousand pounds of tobacco?"

“It should have been directly supplied to the Continental Army for military expenses, including the seventy-three pounds and fifteen shillings,” Xiaoru speculated. “1780… was precisely the most difficult period for the Continental Army. After years of dealing with the British, morale was low, public support was also very low, and war funds were basically exhausted. So, these two thousand pounds of tobacco should have been borrowed by John Adams to help the army purchase other supplies. At that time, the Continental Dollar issued by the Continental Army was basically worthless. Although you could buy some things with pounds in occupied territories, you still had to rely on hard currency like tobacco to trade with Native Americans or the French.”

"Didn't George Washington just say something famous?"

“'If you can’t send money, then send tobacco.'”

“Your analysis makes a lot of sense.” Han Yi nodded in agreement, his gaze still fixed on the promissory note signed by John Adams. He could almost see through the yellowed pages the turbulent early winter of 1780. The American Revolutionary War was raging, and the Continental Army was desperately short of funds. John Adams, a key member of the Continental Congress, personally signed this promissory note to pay military salaries or purchase supplies. It was more than just a debt certificate; it was a testament to a fledgling nation struggling for survival.

Every number and every stroke above embodies the anxiety, determination, and hope of that era.

"What do you think?" After looking at her quietly for a few more seconds, Han Yi turned to ask Xu Yiru for her opinion.

“If you want to buy it, then buy it.” After glancing at the price of $18500 on the information board, Xiaoru gave Han Yi an encouraging look. “Didn’t you already plan to start a cultural relics foundation and build your own collection?”

"It's not mine." Han Yi's index finger, hidden beneath his white cotton gloves, twirled between the two of them. "It belongs to both of us, the Han Couple's Cultural Relics Foundation. I'm in charge of buying it, and you're in charge of managing it."

"I don't want to." Xiaoru pouted, not taking Han Yi's words seriously, or perhaps she hadn't decided whether she should accept this role. Therefore, she cleverly changed the subject, casually glossing over the matter. "However, if you like buying these kinds of things, I'm quite supportive... It's not that my support is very important, but I just think that it's more meaningful to spend money on collectibles with appreciation potential than to spend it elsewhere."

"Since my wife has spoken, I'm going to get to work!"

Han Yi rubbed his hands together, then turned around and looked at Deborah, who had resumed her work and was tidying up the books.

"Hi, excuse me... if we want to buy something, can we just tell you the name?"

“Yes.” Deborah, who was holding a brush, looked up and smiled. “Give me your name and I’ll come over and help you wrap it up in a bit.”

"Don't you need to write it down?"

“No need.” Deborah tapped her head with the handle of the brush. “Don’t let my age fool you, my mind is still sharp.”

"I have no doubt about it."

Han Yi and Xiao Ru exchanged a glance, carefully considering their words, before speaking slowly:

"But please forgive my bluntness... it would be best if you could write it down in a notebook."

"Because we're going to take a lot of things from this floor next."

(End of this chapter)