“Don't rush to complain; these things are actually quite decent…”

Just then, Wang Guan carefully examined the weapons on the racks and turned back to advise Cai Peng. He wasn't speaking against his conscience; these weapons were genuinely good. Despite some signs of rust, the overall condition of every piece was mostly intact. Compared to the battered, dilapidated antiques found in many curio shops, the condition of these weapons wasn't bad at all.

“What’s decent about them?” Cai Peng’s brows furrowed into a deep ‘’ shape, shaking his head repeatedly. “If I show up with this junk, that Hu fellow will surely laugh me out of the room.”

“That’s true enough…” Wang Guan nodded slightly.

Everything has two sides. Compared to the antique blades and swords in the curio shops, the weapons on this rack were indeed superior. However, considering Young Master Hu’s meticulous planning, his Japanese swords must be top-tier pieces. Using second-rate items to compete against the finest would naturally be like attacking stone with an egg—courting trouble for no reason.

“Actually, I think…” That sword looks rather nice.” At that moment, Cai Peng suddenly reached out, pointing toward the center of the room where a small glass cabinet was placed.

Inside the glass cabinet rested a long sword. Unlike the other weapons, the blade and scabbard of this sword were deliberately displayed separately, crossed over each other, creating a rather elegant visual appeal.

Of course, the most important thing was that even with the glass barrier, everyone could clearly see that, under the glare of the lights, the sword emitted shimmering glints of light. It conveyed a dangerous aura of undisguised sharpness, impossible to blunt.

“Young Master Cai, there’s no need to waste your energy.”

Just then, Old Meng smiled wryly. “You can tell by the placement. That sword must be Mr. Xin’s most cherished treasure; even if you offered to buy it, he wouldn’t sell.”

“Honestly, having money and still refusing to earn it.” Cai Peng was deeply annoyed and turned back. “Can’t you guys figure something out?”

“It’s not a matter of money.”

Sha Qingfeng and the others shook their heads one after another. As art brokers, they frequently dealt with all sorts of collectors. Naturally, they had encountered many individuals like this stout man—people who cherished an item so deeply they had no intention of parting with it. Simply throwing money at them was useless; it might even make them view you as vulgar and blacklist you from visiting in the future.

Wang Guan could fully understand this sentiment. After all, he possessed many treasures others coveted, and he loathed people who fixated on his belongings. Thus, he completely empathized with the stout man’s possessive mentality.

“If it’s not about money, then what is it?” Cai Peng was naturally unconvinced, muttering under his breath, “When the time comes, I’ll… just haul a hundred million in cash over here and fill the entire room. Let’s see if he’s moved then.”

“Stop talking nonsense,” Wang Guan waved his hand, saying casually. “You’ll only be qualified to say that when you’ve inherited the family business.”

That hit the nail on the head, striking Cai Peng dumb. Despite waving his checkbook around earlier, putting on the airs of a rich man, his actual account balance was capped—certainly nowhere near a hundred million.

Cai Peng mumbled something, then conceded helplessly, “Then what should we do? I can’t just admit defeat and show up with this junk to be ridiculed by that Hu guy…”

“Serve it cold, then. Anyway, the weapons here aren't much,” Wang Guan said, his voice suddenly rising a bit, sounding careless. “In this entire arsenal, aside from the Longquan Sword personally forged by Mr. Zhou of Zhengwutang displayed in the center, everything else is just run-of-the-mill stuff. Whether we buy it or not doesn't really matter.”

“You just said these things were decent, why the sudden change of tune?” Cai Peng was somewhat bewildered.

However, Old Meng and the others showed a flicker of knowing smiles in their eyes. They clearly understood the intention behind Wang Guan’s abrupt reversal. This was a stratagem, a jī jiāng strategy that was overt—even if the person being provoked knew they were being goaded, they often fell for it.

For instance, hearing Wang Guan’s assessment, the stout man couldn't help but retort, “If you don’t understand, don't speak carelessly. My collection consists of the highest quality pieces…”

“Does the highest quality include these things?” Wang Guan asked with a smile, sweeping his hand across a nearby rack and picking up a long saber heavily covered in rust. With a flick of his wrist, the grime and rust on the saber clattered down, silently refuting the stout man’s praise of his collection's superior quality.

Seeing this, the stout man was left speechless.

“But then again,” Wang Guan continued to smile at this point, “To use a modernly forged sword as the main treasure of your armory tells one a lot about the true ‘gold content’ of the cold weapons in this room.”

“Who told you that sword was the main treasure?” the stout man snorted. “It’s displayed specifically for viewing. I swap out a different weapon there every few days just for my own enjoyment.”

“Is that so?” Wang Guan smiled, his face showing clear skepticism.

“Hmph.”

The stout man stopped talking and took action. He walked to a wall, reached into the dazzling array of weapons, and gently plucked down a dagger, handing it to Wang Guan without a word.

However, after Wang Guan took the dagger and examined it closely, he realized that the item was less a dagger and more a short, curved blade.

Small, exquisite, and radiating a keen edge—a curved knife.

Clang!

Wang Guan drew the weapon. Its design was rather strange, though ‘strange’ was relative to Chinese daggers. The junction between the pommel and the blade formed a crescent shape, and the tip was quite broad. This configuration was undoubtedly foreign.

Wang Guan weighed it slightly in his hand and noticed the weapon was top-heavy and narrow at the heel, with a thick spine and a thin edge. When swung for chopping, it possessed an ax-like destructive power. It was clearly designed as an effective close-quarters fighting implement.

“Do you know what this is?” the stout man sneered at this point. “Don’t let its small size fool you; one good chop with this will definitely take a man’s head clean off.”

Wang Guan didn't doubt that and looked toward Old Meng and the others, intending to ask for their insight.

“I think I’ve seen this thing somewhere before,” a middle-aged man murmured thoughtfully at the same time. “It should be something rather famous…”

“A Kukri!”

Just then, someone shouted out the weapon’s name, then slowly explained, “This is the national knife of Nepal and one of the world’s famous blades. Before the 19th century, people were quite unfamiliar with this type of knife. It wasn't until the late years when Britain sent an army of 30,000 to fight Nepal that the combat effectiveness of the Gurkha soldiers left a deep impression on the arrogant British troops.”

“The Gurkha curved sword, in particular, instilled fear in some British soldiers upon sight, and from then on, the prestige of the Kukri spread worldwide. If I’m not mistaken, this curved blade is likely a war trophy taken by the British soldiers back then. It’s nearly two hundred years old, yet the edge is still so bright—truly rare…”

With that explanation, everyone finally understood.

At the same time, Wang Guan felt a pang of bitterness. Whether it was the Kris from Malaysia or the Gurkha Kukri from Nepal, both gained fame internationally only after inflicting severe hardship on invaders. Yet, the great nation boasting five thousand years of history—what could it bring out when invaded by the allied foreign forces?

It was no wonder so many people detested the Qing Dynasty now. Five millennia of pride were utterly shattered because the ruling class of that era was incompetent, and the nation hadn't fully recovered even now. If they don't criticize it, who will they criticize?

Of course, while also being losers in history, those others at least had items that commanded respect, at least weaponry they could show off. For China, the very source of weapon-forging technology, to only be able to prove itself through reminiscence—wasn't that also a form of tragedy?

As Wang Guan sighed inwardly, Cai Peng’s eyes lit up, and without hesitation, he declared, “I want this one. How much?”

“Not for sale.”

The stout man waved his hand, his face cold. “Aside from the items in the corner, everything else here is not for sale.”

“There is no such thing as ‘not for sale’ in this world; it’s just a matter of how much money.” Cai Peng didn't believe it and habitually waved his checkbook. “Is one million enough? How about two million…”

What a massive sucker—the shop owner’s favorite kind of customer.

Old Meng and the others desperately wished they could accept on the stout man’s behalf, but he remained unmoved. Instead, he reached out to take the item back from Wang Guan, carefully wiped it, and carefully hung it back on the wall.

“Think about it again,” Cai Peng persisted. “Or just name a price; if it’s reasonable, I’ll buy it outright.”

“Hmph.”

The stout man sneered and waved his hand. “I said, it’s not for sale! Furthermore, do you want the things in the corner or not? If not, you can leave now. Don’t disturb my rest.”

This was clearly an eviction notice, which naturally angered Cai Peng, causing his expression to sour. However, compared to the stout man’s physique, Cai Peng wisely chose to stew in his anger rather than lash out.

Besides, they were all civilized people. Since the host had asked them to leave, it felt wrong to linger, so they could only exchange glances, feeling momentarily helpless.

“Since that’s the case, let’s… let’s continue looking at those things,” Wang Guan said with a smile, turning back toward the corner and picking up the weapons on the rack to examine them slowly. This time, however, his examination wasn't done with the naked eye.

To save time, Wang Guan activated his special ability for a scan. Immediately, all the weapons on the wooden rack came into his view, but the result left him deeply disappointed. Most of the dozens of weapons on the rack elicited no response; only seven or eight swords and sabers showed a faint, flowing white light. But this situation was enough to confirm that the quality of these pieces was lacking.

Indeed, one couldn’t always expect to find a treasure buried in a trash heap...

Wang Guan sighed inwardly, letting his special ability spread further, enveloping the entire room for a comprehensive screening. Instantly, he saw patches of brilliant treasure light, varying in intensity, floating throughout.

“Quite a few good things here,” he murmured.

Judging by the density of the treasure light, Wang Guan knew the stout man was indeed an expert; many fine pieces were mixed into his collection, though they still fell short of his own standards… (To be continued)