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

Sun Bo'an woke up at 4:30 a.m.

He lay in bed, stared at the ceiling for a while, then turned over and sat up.

My wife, still half asleep, asked, "Where are you going so early?"

He said, "Just taking a walk."

My wife rolled her eyes: "You wear a shirt for your walk?"

Sun Bo'an did not respond.

He got dressed, drank a glass of cold water in the kitchen, and then pushed open the door to his home.

On a clear early winter morning, the old street was deserted, the streetlights were still on, and a thin layer of frost covered the ground.

He took out his phone and glanced at the three numbers he had saved.

They are all old friends from the antique circle in the provincial capital thirty years ago. Over the years, we still send each other greetings during holidays, but it has been several years since we last met in person.

The first number is Lao Zhou.

Sun Bo'an stood at the door of Old Zhou's house and rubbed his hands together.

The doorbell rang three times, followed by the sound of slippers inside. Then the door opened a crack, and Old Zhou, wearing reading glasses, peeked out. He was taken aback when he saw it was Sun Bo'an.

"Old Sun? What brings you here?"

"I need to talk to you."

Old Zhou opened the door and let Sun Bo'an in.

There was a pot of leftover tea brewing in the study, a copy of "Antique Appraisal Monthly" lying open on the table, and a magnifying glass next to it.

Old Zhou sat down and pushed his reading glasses up his nose: "What's up so early in the morning?"

Without wasting words, Sun Bo'an pulled out a stack of papers from his pocket, which was a list of problematic auction items compiled by Wen Zhaoye.

He placed it on the table and pushed it towards him: "Take a look at this first."

Old Zhou took it, put on his reading glasses, and started reading.

At first, his expression was relatively calm, but when he turned to the third page, his brows furrowed.

Turning to page six, he took off his glasses, wiped them, and put them back on.

He turned to the last page and fell silent.

The study was quiet for a while.

Old Zhou put down the list, tapped his fingers on the paper, and looked at Sun Bo'an: "Are all these Qian Bohong's?"

"right."

Old Zhou took off his reading glasses, leaned back in his chair, and sighed: "Old Sun, you're not letting me look at the list, you're making me choose a side."

"I know," Sun Bo'an said, "but I have no one else to turn to."

Old Zhou remained silent for a long time.

He picked up the cup of stale tea, took a sip, then put it down, his fingers tracing the rim of the cup. "The evidence is solid, but witnesses are hard to find. Do you understand what I mean?"

"clear."

"Qian Bohong has been operating in the provincial capital for twenty years. Anyone who dares to stand up to him is going against him."

That's why I came to find you.

Old Zhou looked at Sun Bo'an for a long while, then laughed: "You're still the same as ever. Once you've made up your mind, not even nine oxen could pull you back."

He stood up, walked to his desk, took out a piece of paper from the drawer, picked up a pen, wrote a few lines, then signed his name and stamped his personal seal.

He folded the paper and handed it to Sun Bo'an: "This is my personal assessment. I can testify in court on the day of the hearing if necessary."

Sun Bo'an took the paper, his fingers tightening slightly, his voice a little hoarse: "Old Zhou, thanks."

"Don't thank me." Old Zhou waved his hand. "I'm doing this to give you face, not to that kid. Let that kid come see me in person, and I'll see what kind of person he really is."

Sun Bo'an put the paper away, stood up, and patted Lao Zhou on the shoulder: "I'll treat you to drinks another day."

Old Zhou laughed and cursed, "Get lost, the last time you treated me to drinks was three years ago."

When Sun Bo'an left Old Zhou's house, it was just getting light.

He stood by the roadside, took out his phone, and dialed a second number.

The phone rang three times before being answered.

"Feed?" came a slightly hoarse voice.

"Old Chen, it's me."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone: "Old Sun? Why are you calling me so early?"

"I need your help."

"Wait a minute." There was a rustling sound on the other end of the phone, like someone getting dressed, then the sound of a door closing. Silence followed. "Okay, what is it?"

Sun Bo'an repeated the same words.

After listening to the phone call, Old Chen was silent for a while, then said, "Old Sun, do you know what you're doing? You know better than I what kind of person Qian Bohong is in the provincial capital."

"I know."

"Is that guy of yours reliable?"

"Reliable."

Old Chen was silent for a while, then said, "How about this, you send me those materials first, and I'll take a look and then decide."

"I can't send it, I'll deliver it to you in person."

"Okay, come over here. I'll be waiting for you at home."

Sun Bo'an hung up the phone, hailed a taxi, and headed to Old Chen's house.

The Chen family and the Zhou family are three streets apart. They are both houses in an old residential area, with a few osmanthus trees planted downstairs.

Sun Bo'an rang the doorbell, and Old Chen came down to open the door, wearing a gray jacket and with messy hair, clearly having just woken up.

The two went inside, and Old Chen poured Sun Bo'an a cup of tea. Then he sat on the sofa and took the stack of lists to look at.

He watched for more than ten minutes, his expression shifting from doubt to surprise, and then to solemnity.

After reading the list, he put it down without saying a word, and immediately picked up his phone to make a call.

Sun Bo'an was taken aback, wondering what he was going to do.

Then I heard Old Chen say into the phone, "Mom, are you home now? Okay, let Old Sun answer the phone."

Sun Bo'an took the phone, puzzled: "Feed?"

An elderly woman's voice came from the other end of the phone: "Old Sun, this is Old Chen's mother. I just heard about what you asked Xiao Chen to do for you. Tell me the truth, is your young apprentice really reliable?"

Sun Bo'an was both amused and exasperated: "Auntie, he's the owner of my shop, not my apprentice."

"I don't care, since you said it's reliable, I'll trust you. But you have to promise me one thing—come over for dinner more often, instead of only once a year."

Sun Bo'an's nose tingled, and his throat tightened a little: "Okay, Auntie, I promise you."

After hanging up the phone, Old Chen took the phone and looked at Sun Bo'an: "Alright, my mother has spoken, how can I not do it?"

He took out paper and pen from the drawer, wrote a note, signed it, stamped it with his personal seal, and handed it to Sun Bo'an.

"Let that kid come see me in person. I want to see what kind of person he is that makes you, Old Sun, go to such lengths for him."

Sun Bo'an took the note and nodded vigorously.

It was already past nine in the morning when he left Old Chen's house.

The sun came out and shone warmly on the street.

Sun Bo'an stood by the roadside, took out his phone, and glanced at the third number saved in his phone—it was his closest brother in the provincial capital's antique circle thirty years ago, but that brother had passed away three years ago.

He stared at the number for a long time, then put his phone away and sighed.

"That's enough," he muttered to himself. "Two are enough."

When Sun Bo'an returned to Jianzhen Pavilion, it was already six o'clock in the evening.