The moment Mr. Feng’s question landed, before Wang Guan could reply, a thin sheen of sweat broke out on the supervisor's forehead; a sudden, chilling sense of impending disaster washed over him. He had never anticipated that among the suspects in the theft case, someone would have such a close relationship with Mr.

Feng, and judging by the host’s warm greeting, their connection was clearly more than casual. While the supervisor’s heart pounded with anxiety, he heard Wang Guan casually dismiss the matter: “It has nothing to do with Mr. Feng.

It’s just that this supervisor seems to have misunderstood something. We are simply clarifying the situation.” “Misunderstood?” Mr. Feng paused, instinctively sensing the complexity of the issue, and turned back to ask, “What misunderstanding?” “Mr.

Feng…” The supervisor scrambled to his feet, opening his mouth to speak but finding himself tongue-tied. Seeing this hesitation, Mr. Feng grew slightly displeased, frowning.

“If there is something, just say it. Don’t hem and haw.” “Yes, Mr. Feng.” The supervisor composed himself, stammering slightly before speaking in a low voice, “The mid-Qing Dynasty cinnabar lacquer with gold-painted dragon and phoenix motifs vanity casket from Exhibition Room Seven has been stolen.” “Hmm?” Mr.

Feng’s gaze swept over the room and he naturally noticed the vanity casket resting on the display table, immediately realizing that two small inner boxes were missing. However, he didn't show anger; after all, having managed a museum for so long, it was impossible to have never experienced a theft. If he became angry every time something was stolen, he would have succumbed to rage long ago.

More importantly, his attention focused elsewhere. Since a theft had occurred in Room Seven and the supervisor was clearly investigating, why were Wang Guan and his party present? This thought brought instant clarity to the cause and effect.

Mr. Feng’s expression darkened instantly, and the imposing authority in his gaze sent the supervisor into an even greater panic, making him feel immense pressure. “Nonsense,” Mr.

Feng chastised, without elaborating further. He then turned to Wang Guan to offer an apology. “Mr.

Wang, I apologize for the spectacle. This is due to my poor supervision that such a farce has occurred.” Yes, a farce. Those below might not know, but Mr.

Feng was a man who understood. Putting aside anything else, the value of the Jiaowei Zither alone was likely greater than his entire collection. With such immense personal wealth, why would he possibly covet such petty valuables?

In Mr. Feng’s mind, he could find no conceivable reason for Wang Guan to act in such a manner. Without motive, there could be no suspicion of crime.

Therefore, it must be the supervisor’s fault for wrongly accusing someone without a thorough investigation. “Mr. Feng, let’s set aside the question of right and wrong for now,” Wang Guan said, shaking his head lightly.

“What I want to know now is how he came to suspect us, and it seems you have surveillance footage as proof. Could you play the recording for us to see?” “Exactly, play the tape,” Old Meng declared indignantly. “If this matter is resolved solely because of Mr.

Feng’s influence, many people won’t be satisfied. We must prove our innocence in the most upright manner possible.” Old Meng’s words resonated in complete agreement with Wang Guan and the others. Simultaneously, a young man who had entered with Mr.

Feng—perhaps a secretary or an assistant—leaned in and whispered a few words into his ear. Upon hearing this, Mr. Feng’s brow furrowed even deeper.

He shot the supervisor a look of clear displeasure, then his face instantly broke into a warm smile. “You must be Mr. Meng and Mr.

Sha? I have long heard of your esteemed reputations.” “Mr. Feng knows us?” Old Meng was surprised, yet pleased.

Although Old Meng was a gold-medal art broker, frequently commissioned by magnates to secure treasures at auctions worldwide, these mandates were rarely given directly by the tycoon but through secretaries or assistants. Thus, even though Old Meng had facilitated many transactions for the Liangyi Zang Museum, he was, in reality, unacquainted with Mr. Feng.

Sha Qingfeng was in a similar situation—he knew of Mr. Feng, but Mr. Feng did not know him.

Yet, to their surprise, Mr. Feng knew them. Well, he knew them only after his secretary reminded him, but it was gratifying nonetheless.

It suggested their years of effort had not been in vain; they had achieved a measure of success, gaining recognition from the upper echelon. “You are esteemed business partners of Liangyi Zang; how could I not know you?” Mr. Feng smiled.

This was, of course, social etiquette, but it solidified his belief that Wang Guan and his group were unconnected to the theft. While others might be uncertain, these two art brokers, who treated their reputations like life itself and whose livelihood depended on them, would never commit an act that destroyed their future careers. Perhaps this view was somewhat absolute—loyalty often existed because the bargaining chips for betrayal were insufficient—but one must not forget that only two small boxes from the casket were missing.

No matter how precious, their value had limits, insufficient to ignite outright avarice. Holding this conviction, Mr. Feng no longer blocked the request from Wang Guan and the others.

He directly instructed the supervisor to retrieve and play the footage to restore the truth of the matter. When Mr. Feng spoke, the supervisor dared not refuse.

He quickly manipulated the equipment to display the recording, then respectfully stepped aside, allowing Wang Guan and the others to gather around the screen. The recording flickered to life, showing Wang Guan and his companions in Room Seven, examining the various objects with intense interest, occasionally pausing to comment, chatting and laughing freely. Since the room held few items, they soon arrived before the vanity casket.

Compared to the other pieces, the casket was a relatively exquisite treasure, immediately capturing the attention of Wang Guan and the others, who clustered around to inspect it. It was precisely this situation that had obscured the camera’s view. Furthermore, it should be noted here that when the casket was displayed, the lid was not closed; rather, it was removed to showcase the small boxes arranged around the perimeter, allowing viewers a clearer look.

Seeing this, Wang Guan and the others frowned slightly, understanding why the supervisor suspected them. However, they also recalled vividly that at the time, they were merely admiring the casket and had never laid a hand on it, making theft impossible. At that moment in the video, Wang Guan and his group seemed to finish admiring the casket and prepared to leave.

In this instant, Wang Guan and the others watching the external footage paid closer attention, scrutinizing the screen. They saw that after they walked away, the casket remained exactly as it was, unchanged. “See?

I told you so.” Witnessing this, Old Meng secretly breathed a sigh of relief, then shot the supervisor a sidelong glance, motioning, “If your eyes aren't blind, you should see the items are still there. On what grounds do you claim we stole them?” “Hmph.” Mr. Feng’s expression hardened, and the thought of the supervisor staging an inside job and framing others crossed his mind.

Sensing Mr. Feng’s unfriendly gaze, the supervisor hurried to explain, “Mr. Feng, the surveillance camera has a blind spot.

If you continue watching, you will understand what happened.” “A blind spot?” Everyone was momentarily startled, and they continued watching. In the recording, shortly after Wang Guan’s group departed, another individual approached the vanity casket to observe it. However, this person glanced at it, immediately showed an expression of shock, then actually waved at the camera and pointed towards the casket with a finger, signaling something… Mr.

Feng frowned and turned to ask, “What is this about?” “That’s the person who discovered the casket was stolen,” the supervisor quickly explained. “We saw him signal on the monitor, immediately realized something was amiss, rushed to Room Seven to investigate, and then discovered the small boxes in the casket were missing.” Hearing the supervisor’s explanation, Wang Guan and the others also knitted their brows, finally grasping why the supervisor suspected them. They had just left, and the items were gone moments later—who else would he suspect?

However, Mr. Feng delved deeper. He glanced back at the supervisor, then questioned another staff member, “Has the footage been edited?

And when Mr. Wang and his party left, there was no change to the casket. Is this what you call a blind spot?” “Mr.

Feng, the footage shows absolutely no signs of editing. Furthermore, recordings from other cameras are available for review.” The staff member quickly clarified, “As for that blind spot, it was actually a misplaced shadow. Since the items were placed there, and the camera view was horizontal, it could only capture the row of boxes directly beneath the lens.

Items situated behind that front row were outside the camera’s surveillance range, creating a blind spot.” “Ah.” Mr. Feng seemed to grasp the situation. He continued watching the recording.

Under the direction of the first man who signaled, the supervisor and others arrived at Room Seven, and upon inspection, discovered the theft from the vanity casket. Seeing this sequence, Mr. Feng certainly didn't suspect Wang Guan’s group of opportunistic theft.

Instead, he suspected the items had already been stolen before Wang Guan arrived, and they simply hadn't noticed. But before Mr. Feng could voice this possibility, the supervisor quietly explained, “Initially, we didn't immediately suspect Mr.

Meng and the others. It was only after reviewing the footage that we discovered Mr. Meng’s group were the very first visitors to enter Room Seven after the museum opened this morning, which is why we…” Prompted by the supervisor, everyone else also realized: most people attending the exhibition today were drawn by the Jiaowei Zither and had no inclination to browse casually.

Furthermore, Room Seven was somewhat isolated, so most visitors wouldn't deliberately go there. Unaware of these factors, Wang Guan and his party thus became the primary suspects in the theft. For a moment, Wang Guan and the others exchanged looks, all letting out wry smiles.

After all, based on the sequence of events—they entered, and then the items vanished—who wouldn't suspect them? Of course, other possibilities existed, such as an inside job. But the suspicion on them had to be eliminated first before any internal audit could begin.

Strictly speaking, the supervisor wasn't entirely wrong in this matter; in fact, he was quite diligent. He simply hadn't expected Wang Guan to know Mr. Feng.

“That’s rather strange,” Wang Guan mused aloud. “Brother Pi, when we were looking, were the items definitely all there?” “I think so,” Pi Qiu Shi scratched his head. “I don’t remember clearly.

Brother Meng, Brother Sha, did you feel anything was missing at the time?” “That… it’s really hard to say…” Old Meng and Sha Qingfeng both looked bewildered. (To be continued...) No pop-up novel website www.RT