You went on a blind date and presented an A-level wanted criminal as a meeting gift?

Panjiayuan is bustling with people and noise on weekends.

This is the largest antique market in Beijing, a place rife with both opportunities and pitfalls.

Countless people come here with dreams of getting rich overnight, but most end up paying "tuition fees" and leaving disappointed.

Lin Zhiyuan has recently become obsessed with this.

Since retiring, the old man has been restless. He heard from somewhere that collecting snuff bottles could cultivate one's taste and also appreciate in value, so he threw himself into it and went to Panjiayuan every few days.

The result was naturally disastrous; they bought a bunch of modern handicrafts that even the "national treasures" would disdain, yet they were still enjoying it.

Lin Chen couldn't refuse him, so he accompanied the old man to this chaotic place again today.

"Son, just you wait, Dad's going to show you something amazing today and find you a real treasure!"

Lin Zhiyuan, dressed in a Tang suit, walked with his hands behind his back, exuding confidence and swagger.

Lin Chen smiled and shook his head, not pointing it out, and just followed behind.

After several twists and turns, the two entered an antique shop that looked antique and had a certain historical charm.

The shop owner was a middle-aged man in his forties with a shrewd mustache and small, darting eyes. When he saw Lin Zhiyuan's attire and his "I'm a fat sheep, come and slaughter me" expression, his eyes lit up instantly.

"Hey, you two bosses, what would you like to see? My shop has all sorts of genuine, top-tier stuff!"

The boss greeted us warmly.

"Boss, bring out your best snuff bottle so I can take a look."

Lin Zhiyuan said casually.

"Okay!"

The shopkeeper smiled mysteriously, turned around, and carefully took out a box wrapped in yellow silk from a locked nanmu cabinet.

He peeled back the layers of silk cloth, revealing a beautifully painted and brightly colored enamel snuff bottle.

"Boss, look..."

The shopkeeper picked up the snuff bottle and introduced it in a seductive tone.

"This is a treasure I painstakingly acquired from a remnant of the previous dynasty! It's a copper-bodied cloisonné snuff bottle with Western figures, made by the Imperial Workshop during the Qianlong era of the Qing Dynasty! Look at the craftsmanship, the color, the glaze—tsk tsk, only royalty could use this!"

He handed the snuff bottle to Lin Zhiyuan and gave him a very persuasive speech.

Lin Zhiyuan had never seen anything like this before. He picked up the snuff bottle and examined it from all angles. He found it smooth to the touch and the painting exquisite. The more he looked at it, the more he liked it, and he was immediately captivated.

"Boss, how much is this...?"

He asked somewhat excitedly.

The boss held up five fingers, grinning like a fox who had stolen a chicken.

"It's not expensive. Seeing that you really like it, I'll give you a friendly price: 500,000!"

"Five hundred thousand?"

Lin Zhiyuan gasped, but then he thought, this is "Made by Emperor Qianlong". Is it really that expensive to buy something used by the emperor for 500,000? The scales in his heart had begun to tip seriously.

Just as he was about to grit his teeth and haggle, Lin Chen, who had been standing silently to the side, finally spoke up.

He stepped forward, not even glancing at the snuff bottle, but instead letting out a cold, extremely disdainful laugh at the shopkeeper.

"Boss, with your storytelling skills, it's a waste that you're not out there telling stories under the overpass."

The boss's smile froze.

"Young man, you can't just say things like that. I'm just saying this..."

"Buzz—!"

[A divine treasure appraiser!]

[God-level mastery of materials science]!

Two god-level skills are activated simultaneously!

In Lin Chen's eyes, the so-called "Qianlong Imperial Snuff Bottle" instantly became "transparent"!

Its internal structure, the molecular composition of the pigments, the components of the patina on the surface... all of these were transformed into a precise stream of data and presented in his mind.

Lin Chen didn't even bother to waste any more words with the boss. He simply took the snuff bottle from Lin Zhiyuan's hand and said in an icy tone:

"Dad, people are taking you for a fool."

He turned the snuff bottle over, pointed to the blurry "Made in the Qianlong Period" mark on the bottom, and sneered:

"First, genuine Qianlong imperial enamelware has a signature in Song typeface, with strong, neat, and clear strokes. Yours is a computer-generated Kai typeface, which is weak and has machine-pressed burrs on the edges."

"Secondly," he said, bringing the snuff bottle to his nose and smelling it, "real old things, after hundreds of years of aging, have no smell. Yours has a pungent chemical glue smell, it's from the aging process."

"Third, and most importantly."

A playful smile curved at the corners of Lin Chen's lips.

"The enamelware from the Qianlong era used mineral pigments imported from the West, which had a stable composition. But yours, I can tell without even looking at it that under ultraviolet light, it will exhibit an extremely obvious chemical fluorescent reaction. This is clearly a modern resin craft that just came from the Yiwu small commodities wholesale market last week. Including labor and shipping costs, the cost couldn't possibly exceed fifty yuan!"

Every word Lin Chen said was like a heavy hammer blow, striking the shop owner's heart!

The shop owner's face instantly turned from rosy to deathly pale, cold sweat pouring down his forehead. He opened his mouth, wanting to argue a few more words, but under Lin Chen's icy gaze that seemed to see through everything, he couldn't utter a single word.

Lin Zhiyuan was stunned. He stared blankly at the "treasure" in his hand, then looked at the pale-faced shop owner, whose old face had turned a deep purplish-red. He was both ashamed and angry, wishing he could smash the broken thing on the spot.

Lin Chen did not give up.

His gaze swept casually around the shop, finally settling on a dusty, tattered-looking blue brush washer used to prop up table legs in the corner by the door.

There was a noticeable notch on the edge of the brush washer.

"Boss," Lin Chen pointed to the brush washer and asked casually, "how much is that?"

The boss, still reeling from being exposed, glanced at the man instinctively upon hearing this and waved his hand impatiently.

"It's just a broken bowl. If you like it, you can take it for three or five hundred yuan!"

"it is good."

A smile that no one could understand appeared on Lin Chen's lips.

He pulled five red bills directly from his pocket and slapped them on the counter.

"Dad, get the money."

Although Lin Zhiyuan didn't understand, he did as he was told out of trust in his son.

Lin Chen walked over, picked up the dusty, broken brush washer, and casually wiped the surface dirt with his sleeve, revealing a warm, jade-like, sky-blue glaze.

Just then, he announced the final verdict to the shop owner, who was on the verge of tears.

"Boss, you're out of luck today. Do you know what this is?"

Lin Chen raised the brush washer, his voice not loud, but it exploded in the boss's ears like thunder.

"After the rain, the sky clears and the clouds break, revealing a color that will shape the future. This is a long-lost Northern Song Dynasty Ru ware celadon-glazed brush washer! Although it is a fragment, its unique glaze and crackle pattern alone would make it worth at least two or three million at an auction."

"you……"

"puff--!"

When the shop owner heard the words "Northern Song Dynasty Ru ware" and "two or three million," he felt his vision go black and almost spat out a mouthful of blood!

His limbs went weak, and he collapsed to the ground, looking at the "broken bowl" in Lin Chen's hand, filled with deep regret!

He actually used a national treasure worth millions to prop up a table leg for several years?!

Lin Chen didn't bother to look at this greedy fool again. He handed the brush washer to Lin Zhiyuan, who was completely petrified, and smiled:

"Dad, this time, it's the real baby. Let's go home."

After saying that, he grabbed the old man, who was still in a daze, and strode away under the shop owner's murderous gaze.

The legends of Panjiayuan have been enriched with another tale: the myth of "finding a Northern Song Dynasty Ru ware piece for 500 yuan".