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

At 6:30 in the morning, Wen Zhaoye stood at the entrance of the new Jianzhen Pavilion store, holding the wooden plaque in his hand. He looked up at the nails and then down at the characters on the plaque—the three characters "Jianzhen Pavilion" were written by him yesterday at Sun Bo'an's house, using old ink that Sun Bo'an had stored for twenty years. The ink was dark and glossy, exuding a sense of composure.

He lifted the wooden plaque, aligned it with the two nails on the wall, hung it up, and pressed down the corners with his palm.

The plaque is now securely hung.

Sun Bo'an walked out of the shop, wearing a dark blue work uniform with the three small white characters "Jianzhen Pavilion" printed on the chest. He had specially ordered five of these yesterday, each embroidered with his name.

"Does it look good?" Sun Bo'an tugged at his collar.

Wen Zhaoye looked him up and down and said, "Uncle, you look much more energetic than before."

"Of course not." Sun Bo'an patted his chest. "Working for others before, now working for my own people, how can it be the same?"

He walked to the door, hung a bundle of firecrackers on the iron rack, and then looked back at the shop's layout. The new shop was an expansion of the original Yu Mantang storefront, three times larger, and divided into three areas—to the left of the entrance was the appraisal area, with a long table and two chairs; in the middle was the trading area, with several samples displayed in glass cabinets; and further inside was the stone-cutting area, where Ma Guoliang's stone-cutting table had been moved to the second floor by the window.

Three incandescent bulbs illuminated every corner, making even the cracks in the floorboards clearly visible.

Ma Guoliang came down from the second floor, holding a newly sharpened stone-cutting knife in his hand, the blade gleaming coldly under the light. "Boss Wen, the knife is sharpened." He handed the knife over, "Try it out." Wen Zhaoye took the knife, weighed it in his hand, then ran his fingertip along the edge, and nodded: "Master Ma's craftsmanship is impeccable."

Ma Guoliang smiled憨厚ly, took out a work uniform with "Jianzhen Pavilion" printed on it from his pocket, put it on, and stood at the door, side by side with Sun Bo'an.

It's exactly eight o'clock.

Sun Bo'an took out a lighter and lit the fuse of the firecracker.

A series of crackling sounds erupted on the second floor of the jade market, and shredded red paper fell like rain, scattering everywhere.

Many fellow shop owners peeked out from their stores; some stood at the door with their hands tucked in their sleeves, while others walked right over, clutching red envelopes. "Boss Wen, congratulations!"

"May your new store opening be prosperous!" "Mr. Sun, you look very smart in your clothes!" Wen Zhaoye stood at the door, accepting red envelopes one by one, saying "thank you" and shaking hands with each one.

He recognized several faces—all merchants he had met before at the jade market. Some had taken sides in the Bao Dequan incident, some remained neutral, and some he had only heard about later.

But today, they all came.

Unlike the tentative glances and hesitant steps of the first opening, this time everyone who came had smiles on their faces, held red envelopes in their hands, and uttered auspicious words. Sun Bo'an stood at the door, watching this scene, his eyes slightly red. He cleared his throat, walked to the iron frame by the door, clapped his hands, and signaled everyone to be quiet. "Everyone, while the sound of firecrackers hasn't completely faded, let me say a few words."

The crowd quieted down, and all eyes turned to him.

Sun Bo'an, leaning against the iron frame, spoke in a hoarse but powerful voice: "I, Sun Bo'an, have worked in the jade market for over thirty years. I've seen too many shops open and too many close. Standing here today, I don't want to say any polite words, I just want to say one thing—"

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the crowd before finally settling on Wen Zhaoye.

"This shop has only one rule—we don't sell fake things, and we don't say fake things." After saying that, he took a step back and pulled Wen Zhaoye to the front.

Wen Zhaoye took the scissors, aimed them at the red silk, and cut it in half with a snip. The red silk fell to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

A round of applause broke out from the crowd, someone shouted "Bravo!" and someone took out their phone to take pictures.

Wen Zhaoye returned the scissors to Sun Bo'an, glanced down at the red silk on the ground, and then looked up at the newly hung wooden plaque.

"We won't produce fake products, and we won't say fake things."

He silently repeated the sentence to himself, then turned around and went into the store.

Sun Bo'an followed behind him, and Ma Guoliang also came in. The three of them stood in the lobby of the new store, watching the three incandescent lights illuminate every corner.

"This shop is three times bigger than before," Sun Bo'an said. "Yes," Wen Zhaoye said, "three times bigger than before." He walked behind the counter, opened a drawer, and inside were neatly arranged account books, official seals, and some miscellaneous documents.

He pulled out the ledger and began to organize the day's accounts—on the first day of business, the red envelopes received had to be registered, the gifts given had to be recorded, and the names of the visitors had to be noted.

His fingers moved across the paper, writing line by line.

When he reached a certain page, his finger stopped. The line read—"Lin Family Culture".

Wen Zhaoye tapped his fingers on the paper, then looked up at the window. Sunlight, falling on the corner of the newly hung signboard in the direction of the provincial capital, cast a warm yellow glow. He looked at it for a few seconds, then closed the ledger and put it back in the drawer. "Uncle," he called out.

Sun Bo'an was arranging gifts on the other side of the counter when he heard the sound and looked up: "What's wrong?"

"Any news from the provincial capital lately?"

Sun Bo'an paused for a moment, then put down the gift, walked over, and leaned against the counter.

"What do you want to know?"

"The Lin family," Wen Zhaoye said, "and Qian Bohong as well."

Sun Bo'an was silent for a moment, then said, "After Qian Bohong was dismissed from his post, he has been staying in the provincial capital and hasn't left. As for the Lin family, Lin Boyuan recently signed his name on the list of new directors of the provincial antique association."

"What do you mean?"

"It means that someone from the Lin family is going to join the association," Sun Bo'an said. "Qian Bohong fell, and the Lin family replaced him. The chain hasn't broken, just the connector has changed."

Wen Zhaoye tapped his fingers on the counter without saying a word.

Sun Bo'an looked at him: "You want to go to the provincial capital?" "It's only a matter of time," Wen Zhaoye said, "but not now."

He stood up, walked to the shop entrance, and looked down at the street of the jade market. People were coming and going on the street. Some recognized him and waved from a distance, and he nodded back.

"Let's stabilize the store first," he said. "Once we're on solid ground, we can talk about things in the provincial capital."

Sun Bo'an stood behind him and nodded.

Ma Guoliang came down from the second floor, holding the newly sharpened stone-cutting knife in his hand, and walked to the shop entrance, looking at the crowd outside.

"Boss Wen, are any more rough stones being delivered today?"

"We'll see whether we deliver it or not," Wen Zhaoye said. "Sharpen the knife first, and wait." Ma Guoliang nodded, sheathed the knife at his waist, and stood at the door, watching the people coming and going on the street. The sunlight grew brighter and brighter, shining on the new plaque of Jianzhen Pavilion, bathing the three characters in a warm yellow light.

Inside the shop, three incandescent lights were still on, illuminating every corner.

Wen Zhaoye stood at the door, looking at the newly hung plaque, and then glanced in the direction of the provincial capital.

He touched the red cloth bag in his pocket—it contained his grandmother's bracelet, broken in two, with the words "Tian Kuo" engraved on the inside. "Dad," he thought to himself, "once I've settled down here, I'll come to the provincial capital to find you."

Behind him, Sun Bo'an's voice came: "Boss Wen, it's lunchtime, want to go eat?"

Wen Zhaoye turned around and smiled, "Let's go, it's on me today."

He stepped across the threshold into the sunlight and casually closed the shop door.

With a click, the lock cylinder turned into place.