Wang Guan reappraised the katana, though sadly, he couldn't discern any flaw.

Not just him; Pi Qiu Shi and the others nearby sensed something amiss from Hu Shao's demeanor, but they couldn't pinpoint exactly what was wrong with the blade.

"The mountains of different trades," Old Meng muttered, half self-mockery, half solace, "What's more, separated by a country, we're completely in the dark."

"That's very true," Sha Qing Feng nodded, simultaneously pondering, "Do any of our counterparts in Hong Kong know much about Japanese swords?"

Pi Qiu Shi was out of the question; his network in Hong Kong was limited, so he naturally had no idea. As for Old Meng, he paused in thought, then gave a wry smile, "I know one, perhaps the only one you all know..."

They all knew he meant that burly Mr. Xin. However, Mr. Xin had already been bought off by Hu Shao and was currently traveling abroad, making it impossible for him to help. Furthermore, even if he were present, it wasn't certain whose side he would take.

"It doesn't necessarily have to be a professional," Sha Qing Feng considered, uncertainly, "Old He seems to know a bit. Should we call him over to take a look?"

"No need for such trouble."

Just then, Wang Guan gently waved his hand, appearing thoughtful, "I think I have a feeling about it now."

Lying, absolutely lying. Yet, he did have a way to solve it. Under the circumstances, it seemed there was no choice but to cheat.

As he spoke, Wang Guan was already cheating. In the moment he looked down, his supernatural ability spread out, effortlessly enveloping the Japanese katana, penetrating every detail.

At first glance, Wang Guan's hand tightened, feeling a mix of the unexpected and the entirely foreseeable. As he focused his gaze, he saw that the Japanese katana showed absolutely no reaction, proving sufficiently that this was a newly forged weapon, not the antique from the late 19th-century Meiji era that Hu Shao claimed it to be.

"Interesting..." A smile touched Wang Guan's lips, but beneath the hilt he was gripping, he discovered another inscription.

It's worth mentioning here that when a weapon is forged, it is a single entity from tip to tang. The 'head' is the point, and the 'tail' is the handle. As everyone should know, whether a sword or a blade, they initially start as a single piece of iron repeatedly folded and hammered, slowly taking shape into a bar, and finally quenched into the final blade.

This means that after the sword or blade is formed, the handle area is generally flat or pointed, requiring further processing—inlaying, clamping for reinforcement, or simply wrapping with cord—to achieve a cylindrical grip.

Furthermore, perhaps out of habit, weapon smiths always like to leave their marks on their creations. This habit isn't limited to the Chinese; the Japanese share it too.

However, it is common knowledge that a blade's inscription (the mei) can indicate the date, the smith's name, or auspicious sayings, sometimes even combining the date, name, and blessings onto one weapon.

Yet, there is one scenario that is absolutely impossible: a weapon bearing two mei.

You might not understand this analogy. It's like a person who constantly changes their name; even if someone calls them by an old name, they might acknowledge it, as if they possessed multiple names. In reality, this is an illusion, because no matter how many names they change, their official identification card will always bear only one.

Weapons are the same. Perhaps the blade has another appellation, but the inscribed name on the weapon itself can only be one; two names appearing simultaneously on a single weapon is impossible.

But Wang Guan found this anomaly on this Japanese katana. Not only was the blade inscribed with the Kikumaru (Chrysanthemum Circle) signature, but beneath the silk wrapping of the handle, there were also a few lines of inscription. These inscriptions were also in Chinese characters, with relatively simple content: the date of forging, the name of the maker, and the name of the sword.

Seeing this information, Wang Guan lowered his head in contemplation, a deep smile playing on his lips.

Concurrently, the verbal sparring between Cai Peng and Hu Shao was drawing to a close, ending in a draw. In truth, Cai Peng's perception was lacking; he failed to see Hu Shao's guilt, or he might have pressed harder and secured a victory.

Despite this, it had kept Hu Shao tense for several minutes, causing a slight sweat to bead on his brow. When Cai Peng finally backed down, Hu Shao secretly sighed in relief and immediately announced, "Well, have you finished looking at the item? Don't look for trouble where there is none, and certainly don't cling to last-gasp struggles..."

"Hmph, I think those are words I should be saying," Cai Peng snorted, "We'll see how you cry in a moment."

Dropping that line, Cai Peng retreated slightly and whispered, "Big Brother, did you figure it out? Does this blade have any flaws?"

"This sword is not a Kikumaru," Wang Guan stated thoughtfully, with absolute certainty, "Perhaps it's better to say that the inscription of Kikumaru was added later."

"What?"

Cai Peng started, then beamed with joy, "Seriously?"

Hearing this, Pi Qiu Shi and the others were also taken aback, then swayed between belief and doubt. Belief stemmed from their trust in Wang Guan; doubt arose from questioning Hu Shao's previous discomposure.

"Look closely..."

Hindsight is always 20/20; Wang Guan was demonstrating this now, confidently proceeding with reverse deduction: "Everyone knows that inscriptions on a blade should be engraved during the forging process, so the inscription looks natural, integrated seamlessly with the blade."

"But the inscription on this blade now looks very unnatural. If you touch it, you'll feel a roughness. That's why I'm certain someone chiseled it onto the blade surface afterward."

Wang Guan asserted solemnly, "Looking at the glint reflected in the crevices of the inscription, we can tell the chiseling wasn't long ago. Otherwise, after oxidizing in contact with the air, the light would have become subdued, not so dazzling..."

Cai Peng might have been fooled, but Pi Qiu Shi and the others were connoisseurs. Although they didn't know much about Japanese swords, they could certainly distinguish between new and old. Now, alerted by Wang Guan, they touched the inscription and immediately agreed with his assessment upon feeling the rough, prickly texture—the inscription must have been added later.

Hearing this, Cai Peng had no further doubts, or perhaps didn't want to doubt, and immediately turned back, roaring with laughter, "What famed Kikumaru sword? Turns out it's a fake. I'm embarrassed for you, bringing that out!"

"On what grounds do you say it's fake? Show me the evidence!"

Since they had already argued over the sword's reputed status earlier, Hu Shao maintained his composure. Despite his internal panic, his outward attitude remained defiant; he refused to admit the fact.

"The evidence is this inscription—the crevices are too rough, it must have been chiseled recently..."

"You say it's rough, so it is? I don't feel any roughness!"

Hu Shao was clearly determined to deny the obvious. Even though Cai Peng was furious, he was helpless and could only resort to shouting insults. Hu Shao naturally retorted, and the two started arguing again, with no sign of stopping soon.

Seeing this, Wang Guan shook his head slightly and suddenly interjected, "Actually, getting evidence is quite simple. I heard that some great Japanese sword masters like to engrave inscriptions on the tsuka (handle). We can take off the wrapping on the handle and have a look."

"No..."

Hu Shao refused outright without thinking, then realized his rejection was too hasty and added superfluously, "How can one tamper with such a precious item? What if it gets damaged? You'll pay for it."

"Fine, I'll pay,"

Cai Peng also finally sensed something amiss and grinned widely, "Young Master Hu, you seem very guilty. You're worried about damaging it, but I'm not. Take it apart, and if it breaks, I'll cover the cost."

"Nonsense, it's not your item, so naturally you don't care about it," Hu Shao snapped back, "Besides, this thing is worth five million US dollars. Can you afford to replace it?"

"Whether it's worth five million is another matter. If it's fake, it's probably just junk," Cai Peng said cheerfully, "I know you don't dare. Fake is fake; just admit it honestly."

"It's a genuine sword, why should I admit it?" Hu Shao was determined to cling to his stubborn denial.

However, taking off the handle wrapping was a minor procedure that wouldn't cause damage; they could always hire someone to rewrap it later. The more he objected, the more it proved his guilt.

"The blade is real, but it's definitely not the Kikumaru you claim," Cai Peng scoffed, "Maybe someone just picked up a cheap blade from a street stall in Japan, carved a few characters onto it, and is passing it off as an antique..."

This last comment was a bit excessive, as the sword was indeed a fine piece, and a hand-forged katana wasn't cheap.

Of course, Cai Peng didn't care about that; he continued to disparage it. Hu Shao was naturally annoyed and couldn't help retorting, "You say my sword is no good, but what weapon did you bring? Don't tell me it's a fruit knife."

"Hmph, even if I brought a fruit knife, at least it would be genuine, unlike your shoddy counterfeit."

As he spoke, Cai Peng preened, "Moreover, what I brought isn't some fruit knife, but a genuine Baosian (precious sword)—a hundred times better than your fake blade."

"Bragging is free, so say whatever you want," Hu Shao sneered, "Anyone can talk. If you're so skilled, show it to us. I bet it's just some glorified paper cutter."

"Bring it out then, look closely, don't strain your dog eyes." Cai Peng swaggered, gently clapping his hands, and one of his bodyguards carried over a sword case.

At the same time, Cai Peng flipped open the lid, took out the Gongbu Sword, and swung it through the air. A burst of brilliant light emerged, naturally capturing everyone's attention.

"What do you think? A Baosian, an ancient precious sword," Cai Peng showed off, "Look at the exquisite patterns on the blade, and that sharp edge—much better looking than that katana."

This was somewhat boastful, but one had to admit a fact: the Gongbu Sword had been passed down for over two thousand years, and some traces of time remained on its body. Comparing sheer appearance alone, it certainly wasn't as flashy as the Japanese katana. However, the ancient, restrained, and elegant aura emanating from the sword was something the katana could never match.