Mr. Anderson was direct, addressing Wang Guan without yielding to Mr.

Hill’s presence and making his request. Mr.

Hill, far from being annoyed, merely observed with a pleasant smile, watching how the situation would unfold. If Wang Guan agreed, that would be best; if not, it was of no great consequence.

"Mr. Anderson, don't press him too hard." At the opportune moment, Wang Guan laughed helplessly, "You should show your sincerity to Mr.

Hill first, not try to take advantage of the situation." "Alas!" Mr. Anderson sighed in disappointment, casting a lingering look at the stained-glass mosaic before shaking his head and walking away.

What cannot be attained should not be gazed upon for too long, lest the reluctance to part becomes even harder to bear. Passing the dazzling, opulent glass art treasures, they reached the end of the vault.

But just then, everyone noticed a small door at the far end of the vault, suggesting another space lay beyond. Seeing this, the group turned their gazes simultaneously towards Mr.

Hill. Ordinarily, faced with such a sight, many would harbor the same thought: behind that small door must be hidden even rarer treasures.

Mr. Hill sensed the others' thoughts, yet he suddenly laughed, then casually pushed the small door open, allowing everyone a clearer view.

The door opened to reveal a space, perhaps ten square meters. Compared to the expansive area outside, this inner room felt somewhat cramped and confining.

Surprisingly, there were no rare treasures inside, only a collection of ancient, very old, and tattered miscellaneous items. "This is the castle's basement, built when the castle was first constructed…" Mr.

Hill began explaining the room's origins, and Fang Mingsheng quietly translated, "At that time, the castle wasn't very large. Having such a basement was sufficient.

Later, as the castle expanded, the basement did too, gradually forming the treasury as it is now." "As for the clutter inside, those are items left behind by Mr. Hill's ancestors through generations.

While their monetary value isn't very high, they hold significant sentimental value—trinkets that are useless to keep but hard to discard—so they were stored in this room." As Fang Mingsheng translated, Mr. Hill gestured, inviting everyone inside for a closer look.

Four or five people stepped into the small room. The sense of confinement became more pronounced.

However, it wasn't so tight that they were crushed together; they could spread out a little, each examining the odds and ends. Calling them odds and ends did not imply they were dirty or covered in dust.

On the contrary. These items were clearly maintained and wiped down regularly; though they weren't sparkling, they were definitely clean.

Otherwise, Prince Abdul would hardly have followed them in. Nor would Mr.

Hill have invited guests into a dusty, untidy room. After all, letting guests get dusty is not proper hosting.

The items were varied, yet organized, mostly quite ordinary. For instance, Wang Guan was currently studying a statue—a very simple carving of Jesus.

The statue wasn't very tall, perhaps only thirty or forty centimeters. But the sculptor's skill was poor; one could only vaguely discern the general outline, confirming it was meant to represent Jesus.

Besides Jesus, who else would be depicted nailed to a cross? It wasn't just statues; there were also stone plates, bowls, and similar objects.

From this, it was clear that Mr. Hill's ancestors, in the nascent stages of their family, had lived a very difficult life.

Only after enduring hard struggles did they achieve their current luxurious existence. Keeping these items was perhaps a way to remember past hardships.

"This one looks like…" At that moment, Wang Guan pointed to an object and chuckled, "A box?" "What?" Fang Mingsheng looked over and saw a cubical object. Unlike the rough Jesus statue, this piece appeared much more refined and ornate.

Relatively refined and ornate, it was decorated with numerous patterns and featured carvings of two small cherubs, looking quite distinctive. "It's not a box; it's solid.

It should belong to the category of artworks." After a quick appraisal, Fang Mingsheng picked it up to gauge its weight, then laughed, "But it still looks quite crude. Otherwise, it would be a truly rare artifact.

Speaking of stone carvings, why are these pieces not as exquisite as Greek sculptures? I'm not greedy; I wouldn't ask for the astonishment of the Venus de Milo, but even half that quality would be something…" "The armless Venus—that's a world-class treasure," Wang Guan couldn't help but laugh.

"Half as precious as her, and it’s at least a national-level item. You're still not being greedy enough." While the two were joking, Mr.

Hill noticed that Prince Abdul held little interest in the items here, so he gracefully invited him to leave, preparing to return to the main hall for tea. Seeing this, Fang Mingsheng quickly put down the item in his hand and called out, "Wang Guan, let's go too." "Right." Wang Guan nodded, casually picking up the object Fang Mingsheng had set down, and followed along with an air of relaxation.

Of course, after walking a few steps, Mr. Hill remembered his promise and turned back, intending to ask Wang Guan which item he had chosen.

But upon seeing what he held, Mr. Hill was suddenly struck with surprise and astonishment.

"Wang Guan, why are you taking that out…" At the same time, Fang Mingsheng noticed the object in Wang Guan's hand and exclaimed in shock, "Are you actually choosing this thing?" "Yes, is that not allowed?" Wang Guan countered, "Mr. Hill told me to pick anything I wanted.

I want this now; he shouldn't go back on his word, should he?" "He certainly won't renege, but…" Fang Mingsheng was about to offer kind advice, but suddenly seemed to grasp something, smiling thoughtfully and nodding, "That's right. The choice is yours; whatever you want is fine.

What matters is suitability, not the price." Clearly, Fang Mingsheng had misunderstood something. And it wasn't just Fang Mingsheng.

After their initial shock, Mr. Hill and the others seemed to understand as well; the astonishment in their eyes gradually faded, replaced by expressions of appreciation.

As merchants dedicated to maximizing profit, they "understood" Wang Guan's approach perfectly. Although choosing a worthless item over the abundant treasures before him seemed incredibly unwise, in their eyes, this was undoubtedly the smartest move.

After all, no matter how precious the treasures were, they represented only a one-time transaction. But Wang Guan's supposed "lack of greed" meant that Mr.

Hill now owed him a favor. Don't assume Westerners disregard human connection; they merely keep it beneath the surface.

In reality, they value favors even more, believing that a debt incurred must eventually be repaid when the opportunity arises. Thus, in their view, Wang Guan's action was a form of investment.

It wasn't seeking immediate returns but looking long-term, which naturally deserved praise. Even Mr.

Hill, understanding Wang Guan's perceived "intention," felt no offense. Instead, he admired the young man's cleverness; he enjoyed dealing with intelligent people.

Investment, after all, is bidirectional; both the investor and the recipient must vet each other before deciding on cooperation. At the very least, Mr.

Hill felt this young man was commendable, so he resolved to owe him a favor. With a hearty laugh, he didn't say much more, leading everyone out of the vault to return to the luxurious drawing-room for coffee.

"You're quite astute…" Then, Fang Mingsheng patted Wang Guan on the shoulder and walked away with a beaming smile. For a moment, Wang Guan blinked, vaguely sensing that everyone seemed to have some sort of misunderstanding.

But he didn't dwell on it and followed along in good spirits. He had expected to use some persuasive rhetoric to take the item, but unexpectedly, it was accomplished effortlessly—truly a blessing from the heavens.

In any case, everyone was in a good mood, and upon returning to the living room, the atmosphere was naturally filled with lively conversation. Time flew, and soon it was the hour for the evening banquet.

To entertain the distinguished guest, Prince Abdul, Mr. Hill decided to host a grand feast, with his entire family and many friends and relatives attending—a gathering of at least a hundred people.

There is no need to detail the banquet process; it was, as expected, incredibly luxurious, lively, and grand. The protagonist of the event was Prince Abdul, ensuring he received the lion's share of attention.

As for Wang Guan, he was merely a small fry, whom few paid any mind. And he was perfectly happy to remain quietly in a corner, eating and drinking heartily, truly savoring the various delicacies and filling his stomach.

Unlike the other guests, who were either busy dancing and chatting or drinking themselves into a stupor… "Wang!" At this point, Mr. Anderson approached Wang Guan in his corner, holding a glass of red wine.

Seeing his slightly flushed cheeks, it was evident he had consumed a fair amount. However, his eyes were bright, suggesting he wasn't truly drunk.

"Wang, there are many young people here, including several pretty girls. Not asking them for a dance but hiding here idling away—that's not the behavior of a gentleman," Mr.

Anderson said with a slight smile. "Since there are many guests, the hosts can't attend to everyone; it requires guests to be proactive." "Are there any pretty girls who understand Chinese?" Wang Guan asked with a smile, causing Mr.

Anderson to shake his head, though he agreed that a language barrier was certainly a hassle. Not wishing to continue that topic, Wang Guan raised his glass in a toast.

"Mr. Anderson, shall we?" "Clink!" Mr.

Anderson responded in kind, sipping his red wine after the toast, then smiling, "Wang, I suddenly recalled something. If you're looking for Martin, you might try Taiwan." "What…" Wang Guan paused, trying to recall who Martin was, then suddenly realized.

The Martin Mr. Anderson mentioned was likely the person using an alias, Mr.

Zhu. He became instantly excited.

"Mr. Anderson, are you certain?" "It's hard to say." Mr.

Anderson was uncertain. "We were chatting last year, and he mentioned having plans to visit Taiwan this year.

He might be there now, or perhaps he has already left." "I see!" Hearing this, Wang Guan frowned, his initial excitement significantly dampened by a bucket of cold water. But gradually sobering up, he smiled, "Regardless, I still must thank you, Mr.

Anderson, for the information…" (To be continued) 〖Book Web∷Fast Update∷No Pop-ups∷Pure Text∷www.〗RT