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

Wen Zhaoye folded the letter, his fingertips pausing briefly on the edge. He didn't speak, simply kneeling before the stone platform, the key and jade pendant hanging side-by-side at his chest, the bronze and jade making a soft clanging sound. He looked up at the bronze cauldron; the jade pendant, embedded in a crack, was faintly glowing. His divine eye moved on its own; he saw a golden outline deep within the cauldron's belly pulsating, once, twice, very slowly.

But it was slower than before. Gu Qinghan withdrew the carving from the stone wall, walked to his side, and whispered, "It's time to go." Wen Zhaoye didn't move. He reached out and pressed his fingers on the coldest verdigris on the cauldron. The coolness of the bronze seeped into his bones through his fingertips, but he didn't feel cold. He looked down at the key on his chest, then at the jade pendant, then hung the key up, placing it next to the pendant. "Dad," he said, his voice very soft, "I'm leaving."

The cauldron trembled slightly.

Wen Zhaoye stood up; his legs were a little numb, but he didn't hold onto anything. He turned and walked towards the entrance of the passage, pausing when he reached the door of the stone chamber.

He glanced back.

The bronze cauldron sat quietly on the stone platform, the jade pendant glowing faintly through its cracks, the light emanating from the cauldron still flickering. He watched for a few seconds, then turned and stepped into the darkness. Gu Qinghan followed behind him. The passage was long and dark. The beam of a flashlight cut a narrow path through the darkness, the stone steps covered in dust, some parts overgrown with moss. Wen Zhaoye walked ahead, the key and jade pendant on his chest swaying gently with each step, making a soft clinking sound in the darkness.

We walked for a long time. Finally, we saw the light of the exit.

The light leaked through the cracks in the ruins of the Taoist temple and fell on the stone steps. Wen Zhaoye stood in front of the hidden door, looking at the light, without moving.

"Three hundred and seventy-six days," he said, his voice not loud, but steady.

Gu Qinghan stood behind him without saying a word.

Wen Zhaoye took a deep breath, then stepped out of the hidden door and into the twilight.

The twilight over the Kunlun Mountains was serene. A breeze blew from the mountains, carrying the scent of snow and a hint of pine. The clouds on the horizon were tinged with gray-red by the setting sun, and the mountain ridgeline blurred into a gray-white outline in the twilight.

Wen Zhaoye stood in front of the ruins of the Taoist temple, looking at the distant, snow-capped mountains.

He took the letter out of his inner pocket, unfolded it, and read it again in the twilight.

The edges of the letter were brittle, and the handwriting was his father's—the strokes were steady, but the ink was smudged in some places, as if his hand had been trembling while writing. "Zhaoye, if you've made it this far, it means you've grown up. My greatest regret in life is not being able to watch you grow up. My greatest pride is that you've finally arrived."

After Wen Zhaoye finished reading, his finger stopped on the paper.

He looked at the letter for a long time, then folded it and put it back in his inner pocket. Gu Qinghan stood behind him, watching him. She didn't speak, her hand on the hilt of her sword, her gaze fixed on his back.

Wen Zhaoye looked up towards the direction of Kunlun Mountain. The ridgeline blurred into a gray-white outline in the twilight, like a sleeping dragon lying on the earth.

"Three hundred and seventy-six days, I've remembered it," he said.

Gu Qinghan loosened the hilt of her sword, walked to his side, and stood still.

The two stood side by side, neither speaking. The twilight stretched their shadows long, overlapping them like two lines merging into one. The wind blew from the mountains, carrying the scent of snow.

Wen Zhaoye took a deep breath, then turned around and looked at Gu Qinghan.

"I'm gone."

Gu Qinghan looked at him and nodded. The two walked down the stone steps side by side, behind them the abandoned Taoist temple and the bronze cauldron that had slumbered for three thousand years beneath it. Wen Zhaoye walked ahead, the key and jade pendant on his chest gleaming in the twilight. He didn't turn around, but he knew someone was following him.

It's not surveillance, it's not a mission.

He was there to keep me company. He gripped the key tightly, his knuckles turning white, then he released it.

"Sixty years," he said softly, as if speaking to himself. "Year after year, we'll always find a way."

Gu Qinghan walked beside him without saying a word.

But her hand remained on the hilt of the sword, and she did not let go.

As dusk deepened, the outline of Kunlun Mountain gradually disappeared into the darkness. The two walked down the mountain path, their footsteps steady and rhythmic on the stone steps.

When Wen Zhaoye reached the foot of the mountain, he paused and looked back.

The outline of the Taoist temple was reduced to a blurry black shadow in the twilight, like a giant beast crouching in a mountain hollow. He stared at it for a few seconds, then turned and continued walking.

"I will be back," he said, his voice not loud, but steady.

Gu Qinghan stayed beside him without saying a word.

But in her heart, she left a mark on him.