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

At seven o'clock in the morning, Wen Zhaoye arrived at the entrance of Jianzhen Pavilion half an hour early.

Before the key was even inserted, footsteps could be heard at the bottom of the stairs.

Sun Bo'an came up carrying two strings of firecrackers, followed by Ma Guoliang, who was carrying a plastic bag of oranges and apples.

"It's for opening a business, so we want good luck."

Sun Bo'an placed the firecrackers on the ground, took out a lighter, and said, "You hang the plaque, I'll light it."

Wen Zhaoye took a new key from the keychain and inserted it into the lock.

This is his own shop, his own door, his own key.

He moved the wooden plaque out of the shop, stepped onto a stool, and aimed it at the two nails on the east wall.

The moment the wooden plaque was hung up, he smoothed out the edges with his palm.

The three characters "鑒真阁" (Jianzhen Pavilion) gleamed faintly in the morning sunlight, reflecting the wood grain.

Sun Bo'an lit the firecrackers.

A series of crackling sounds erupted on the second floor of the jade market.

Many shopkeepers peeked out, while several familiar faces stood at the entrance, hands tucked in their sleeves, watching the spectacle.

Someone shouted, "New store opening!" while another glanced at the words on the wooden signboard but remained silent.

Wen Zhaoye ignored those stares.

He moved a wooden sign and placed it in the most conspicuous position on the right side of the shop entrance—"Free appraisal, guaranteed authenticity and buyback."

He wrote the characters himself with a brush; the strokes weren't very pretty, but they were clear.

Ma Guoliang placed the oranges and apples on the counter, then took out a handful of red envelopes from his pocket:

"Boss Wen, I got some change at the supermarket downstairs, one dollar bills each, just for good luck."

Sun Bo'an walked around the store and touched the cable channels on the wall: "The decoration is really impressive."

The first guest arrived even faster than Wen Zhaoye had anticipated.

He was a middle-aged man in a gray jacket, clutching a jade dragon pendant in his hand. As soon as he entered, he went straight to the counter: "Boss, can you take a look at this for me?"

Wen Zhaoye took the jade pendant and twirled it in his palm.

A few small words appeared in the divine eye: machine carving marks, glue injection lines, acid washing residue.

He didn't say much, simply placing the jade pendant flat on the counter and pointing to a thin arc on the inside of the dragon claw: "Look here."

The man in the gray jacket leaned closer to look: "What's wrong?"

"This is the trajectory of an electric grinding wheel," Wen Zhaoye said. "When a hand grinding wheel is finished, there is a slight pause at the end, and you can feel a slight undulation when you touch it. An electric grinding wheel moves at a constant speed, so the end of the wheel is particularly smooth."

The man in the gray jacket reached out and touched the curve, his expression changing.

"If you bought this jade for five thousand yuan," Wen Zhaoye withdrew his hand, "then you lost money. The machine operator added glue, and the cost was no more than one hundred yuan."

Someone in the crowd took out their phone and took a picture of the jade pendant.

The man in the gray jacket blushed, put away the jade pendant without saying a word, and turned to leave.

Sun Bo'an snorted from behind the counter: "They've already kicked a hornet's nest."

"It's not a metal plate," Wen Zhaoye smiled, "it's an electric drill."

Not long after, the second guest arrived.

It was an elderly woman with white hair. She took a jade ring out of her cloth bag and tapped it on the glass of the counter with her thin fingers.

"Young man, can you take a look at this for me? It was left by my wife."

Wen Zhaoye put on the magnifying glass that Sun Bo'an handed him and scanned it with his divine eyes—it was an A-grade glutinous rice type, with a uniform color. Although it wasn't top-grade, it was genuine.

"Grandma, this is real. It's a genuine Grade A glutinous rice jade, and the translucency is quite good."

The old lady's eyes lit up: "Really?"

"real."

"Can you accept it?"

"Yes," Wen Zhaoye quoted a price, "eight thousand."

The old lady paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "Okay."

She slapped her hand on the counter, as if afraid Wen Zhaoye would change his mind:

"Eight thousand it is! Are you paying me in cash or by bank transfer?"

Ma Guoliang took the ring, made a small cut on the ring setting with a knife, looked at it through a magnifying glass, and nodded to Wen Zhaoye.

Wen Zhaoye counted out eight thousand yuan in cash and placed it on the counter. The old lady counted it twice before putting it in her pocket, and said thank you three times as she left.

The third guest arrived; he was a young man who brought a white jade Guanyin pendant.

Wen Zhaoye glanced at it twice, and his divine eyes indicated that it was a late Qing Dynasty heirloom, with a natural patina and skillful craftsmanship.

"How much do you want?" the young man asked.

Wen Zhaoye thought for a moment: "Sixteen thousand."

The young man's eyelids twitched: "Are you serious?"

"Really. If you think it's too low, you can ask other places, but I doubt they'll offer anything higher."

The young man hesitated for five seconds, then slapped his thigh and exclaimed, "Deal!"

As soon as the transfer notification sounded, he placed the Guanyin amulet on the counter and looked back at it as he left.

Ma Guoliang, watching from the side, couldn't help but chuckle.

"Boss Wen, you've only been open for one morning and you've already made three sales. When Bao Dequan was in business, his shop might not even sell a single genuine item in a day."

Wen Zhaoye dusted off his hands: "Of course he can't sell counterfeit goods."

The third customer in the afternoon brought a gilded bronze Buddha statue.

The man was in his forties, wearing a gray shirt. He looked around as he entered before taking the Buddha statue out of his bag.

Wen Zhaoye took it and looked at it carefully.

The Buddha statue is well-proportioned, and although the gilding on the surface shows signs of wear, it is old enough, and the overall charm is authentic.

But when he flipped to the bottom, the gold lettering in the Divine Eye had changed—the bottom seal had been replaced; the original seal plate had been removed and replaced with a modern imitation copper coin.

He placed the Buddha statue on the counter: "This is a Ming Dynasty statue; the date and style are correct."

The man's face lit up with joy upon hearing this.

"But the bottom seal has been changed," Wen Zhaoye continued. "I suggest you keep it as a decorative piece; I don't recommend recycling it."

The man was stunned: "What did you say?"

"The fact that the seal was changed indicates that there may have been a problem with this item, or that it has been tampered with. I can't explain why I would accept something of unknown origin."

Sun Bo'an took a sip of tea from the side without saying a word.

The man hesitated for a moment, but finally put the Buddha statue into his pocket: "You're quite honest."

"It's better to be honest in this line of work," Wen Zhaoye said.

When the man walked out, his steps slowed slightly, as if he was pondering something.

Sun Bo'an put down his teacup: "The third order, a business deal I had to turn down."

"Then what do we do?" Wen Zhaoye said, "We take in fakes, but we have to give them back later. It's pointless."

Sun Bo'an looked at him and smiled: "You're quite interesting."

Around 3 p.m., Yu Tinglan arrived.

She was wearing a white shirt and carrying a celadon incense burner. She glanced at the wooden sign by the door as she entered.

"Free appraisal, guaranteed authenticity, buyback. That's a pretty honest sign."

Wen Zhaoye came out from behind the counter: "What brings you here?"

"A friend asked me to appraise it." She placed the incense burner on the counter. "Take a look first."

Wen Zhaoye took it, weighed it in his palm, and then looked at it against the light outside the window.

Yu Tinglan stood to the side, not urging him, but just watching quietly.

"Longquan ware," Wen Zhaoye said. "From the Ming Dynasty. Not an official kiln, but a fine example from a folk kiln. The patina is natural, and the crackles are even."

He put it back on the counter: "The item is correct."

Yu Tinglan nodded: "My friend says he wants to sell. Give me a price." Wen Zhaoye thought for a moment: "Thirty thousand."

Yu Tinglan didn't haggle. She simply pulled out a number from her phone, wrote it on a sticky note, and handed it to Sun Bo'an: "Have this person contact my friend."

When Sun Bo'an took it, he paused for a moment—it was the number of a top collector in the provincial capital.

Yu Tinglan turned to look at Wen Zhaoye and said, "Congratulations on your opening."

After she finished speaking, she left, leaving the celadon incense burner on the counter. The setting sun slanted across its glaze, giving it a warm glow.

Qin Fei arrived in the evening.

She wasn't wearing a police uniform, but a black jacket, and was leaning against the door frame carrying a bag of oranges.

"Just passing by, thought I'd take a look."

Wen Zhaoye moved a chair for her to sit down, and she didn't stand on ceremony. She sat down directly, peeled an orange from the bag, and popped it into her mouth.

Whether the oranges were sweet or not, she ate them with practiced ease, popping one into her mouth, chewing it a couple of times, and then putting the peel on the counter.

"How was your business today?"

"Not bad, I've completed three orders."

Qin Fei nodded and peeled another orange: "Someone from the provincial capital called about Bao Dequan's case."

Wen Zhaoye stopped wiping the counter.

He turned to look at her.

Qin Fei didn't continue, and handed him the peeled orange: "Congratulations on the opening! Don't think too much. We'll talk about tomorrow tomorrow."

Wen Zhaoye took the orange but didn't eat it.

Qin Fei stood up, dusted off her pants, and glanced at the newly hung wooden plaque on the wall: "Jianzhen Pavilion, a good name."

She turned and left, her footsteps fading into the distance at the top of the stairs.

The setting sun slanted in through the narrow window on the east wall, landing on the wooden plaque, bathing the three characters "Jianzhen Pavilion" in a warm yellow light.

Sun Bo'an sat behind the counter and closed today's account book.

Ma Guoliang squatted beside the stone-cutting table, using sandpaper to polish the newly arrived stone-cutting knife until the blade was so smooth that a person could see their reflection.

Yu Tinglan stood by the window, holding the celadon incense burner in her hands, watching the streetlights gradually light up on the old street outside the window.

Wen Zhaoye stood for a while, then walked to the counter and picked up the three bills.

Eight thousand.

Sixteen thousand.

Thirty thousand. The number isn't large, but every transaction was clean.

He suddenly remembered Qin Fei's unfinished sentence—someone had called from the provincial capital. He didn't think too much about it.

Let's talk about tomorrow's problems tomorrow.