At the right moment, Fang Mingsheng opened the door and stepped out, gesturing, "This is Elder Zeng's house."

Wang Guan also followed, taking in the surroundings. He agreed the environment was excellent. Despite the surrounding modern residential blocks, the landscaping was impressive—lush, dense with flowers and trees, lending an air of serene elegance. It truly seemed a fine place to enjoy one's twilight years.

While Wang Guan was observing, Fang Mingsheng didn't bother with the doorbell. He directly entered the code on the iron gate's digital keypad and, taking the initiative, gestured him inside. "Please come in..."

"Oh."

Wang Guan paused, realizing that Fang Mingsheng's relationship with Elder Zeng must be quite close for him to be so casual. Thinking this, he didn't stand on ceremony, calmly walking into the villa, and under Fang Mingsheng's guidance, quickly arrived in the living room.

The living room was bright and tidy, yet the furniture was strikingly antique... No, wait, it wasn't that the style was antique; the pieces themselves were genuine antiques.

At this, Wang Guan’s gaze sharpened. Carefully examining the furniture, which exuded a deep patina and an air of profound age, he immediately judged that these items were likely three or four times older than himself.

"Take your time and look around here," Fang Mingsheng said cheerfully. "Elder Zeng is probably watering his plants in the back; I'll go fetch him. Don't be a stranger, please sit wherever you like."

As he spoke, Fang Mingsheng turned and left. Wang Guan didn't mind; instead, he took the opportunity to appraise the furniture. Upon touching them, he confirmed his initial assessment: these stately, ancient-looking tables and chairs were likely from the late Qing Dynasty or the Republic of China era. Based on the texture and grain, they appeared to be Huali wood.

Even though they were decades, perhaps nearly a century, old, the pieces were remarkably well-preserved. Without any lacquer, the surfaces radiated a subtle sheen—the result of decades of handling and use by successive generations, forming a beautiful bao jiang (patina). This indicated they were heirlooms, worth several times more than newly crafted Huali furniture.

Of course, even while admiring the furniture, Wang Guan wasn't completely absorbed. After all, he was a guest in someone else's home and needed to maintain a degree of reserve. They weren't close; the usual platitudes about 'not being formal' were just polite fluff. Anyone taking that seriously would be a fool.

Wang Guan certainly didn't take it seriously, which is why he immediately heard footsteps outside the door. Turning back, he naturally saw an aged, white-haired man being supported by Fang Mingsheng as they entered.

"Elder Zeng, hello."

As the junior, Wang Guan was perceptive. He didn't stare but immediately bowed his head in greeting; that was the proper etiquette.

"Hello to you too."

Elder Zeng smiled and nodded, looking genuinely kind. In truth, as people age, their temperament tends to mellow, leading to a gentle demeanor toward everyone.

However, for certain elders, being placid didn't mean they couldn't get angry. Much like how a quiet person's rage can be terrifying, when these elders lose their temper, it manifests as thunderous fury—best not to cross them.

"This is Wang Guan, who has come as Elder Qian instructed, to investigate the matter of Mr. Zhu Da," Fang Mingsheng introduced from the side. "And thanks to him, I learned that the Yongle blue-and-white dish at Customs was also one of Mr. Zhu Da's forgeries."

"What? That really happened?"

Hearing this, Elder Zeng frowned, displaying a natural aura of imposing dignity.

"Not only did it happen, but it has happened quite a few times," Fang Mingsheng shook his head. "Don't believe me? Ask Wang Guan; he's run into it several times. This shows the situation isn't what you speculated—the 'Mother of Porcelain' isn't some leftover from back then, but a recent piece."

"Then the problem is more serious," Elder Zeng showed a flicker of worry. "Actually, I heard rumors earlier about Mr. Zhu Da making a comeback, but I held onto a sliver of hope, thinking it might be old stock causing trouble. I didn't realize it was true. It seems the collecting world is in for turmoil."

"Elder, you don't need to be overly tense; Elder Qian is already investigating," Fang Mingsheng soothed.

"How can things get done by relying on others while doing nothing oneself?" Elder Zeng shook his head. "It seems I need to arrange a time to speak with everyone."

Hearing this, Wang Guan felt quite pleased. Elder Qian had admitted that resisting Mr. Zhu Da couldn't be achieved by just one or two people; it required a union of many, all working in concert, to have any chance of success.

Yet, despite Elder Qian having many friends, he wasn't exactly known to have confidants everywhere. His influence, or rather his ability to rally support, wasn't as potent as people might imagine.

After all, the antiques trade was composed of various interconnected circles, yet these circles spanned vast distances and maintained a degree of independence. In the old days, anyone daring to trade or capable of trading usually had some established lineage. A single mention of a name could establish a connection, even if distant.

However, the barrier to entry was too low now; all it took was money to cause trouble. Elder Qian’s name carried weight among seasoned experts, but ordinary players had no concept of it. Even if he stood up and called for support, few would respond. Some might even be utterly confused, wondering what this old man was shouting about.

Furthermore, the overall industry environment was mixed, even infested with riff-raff who were more likely to spoil things than achieve anything constructive. It was precisely because of these considerations that Elder Qian preferred to investigate through his own means rather than broadcast a call for widespread help.

Of course, not calling for help didn't mean he rejected it. Take a significant figure like Elder Zeng, who not only held deep influence locally but, crucially, understood the danger Mr. Zhu Da posed. If he was willing to step in, it would undoubtedly be a boon, relieving much pressure and saving headaches.

"Speaking of which, I have long admired Brother Lingxi’s name, but we have never actually interacted," Elder Zeng said, glancing at Wang Guan with a smile. "Mingsheng tells me you are Brother Lingxi's disciple. Then it falls to you to bridge the gap. Could you provide a contact number? I'll give him a call, and we can exchange views."

Upon hearing this, Wang Guan immediately recited Elder Qian's home phone number—