With the advance of technology, various techniques have naturally become more sophisticated. Cameras are certainly no exception; they can capture the flutter of a mosquito’s or a fly’s wings, let alone the subtle changes appearing on a sword’s blade. Surrounded by seven or eight cameras, any anomaly in the Chixiao Sword would be as conspicuous as a louse on a monk’s head.

Just as it was now, through the lens capture, everyone could see that, for some unknown reason, a faint trace of crimson, like a silken thread, suddenly manifested along the spine of the Chixiao Sword.

"Huh?"

At first glance, many people were naturally surprised. Some instinctively felt they must have seen things wrong and couldn't help but blink and look again, only to find the red thread truly present, and it was continually extending, spreading, and growing...

"What is happening?"

Seeing this situation, the scene immediately erupted into an uproar. Everyone stared intently, watching as, with the passage of time, the red thread on the blade seemed to be like some form of cancerous cell, constantly eroding the mirror-bright steel. After a long while, not only the sword's spine had turned red, but even the cutting edge could not escape this fate, gradually being assimilated.

"Everyone, look at the blood in the basin..."

At the same time, a meticulous observer’s gaze shifted, revealing a horrifying development.

At this person’s prompting, everyone else also diverted their attention to the blood in the basin. Only then did they belatedly realize that the blood in the basin was actually diminishing. As the Chixiao Sword gradually transformed, the blood in the basin was decreasing bit by bit. This was visible to the naked eye; after all, as the volume of blood dropped, concentric rings of residue were naturally left clinging to the basin walls.

It was these very rings that horrified everyone, linking the two observations—an inevitable connection. The blood was draining, and the blade was reddening; this clearly meant the blade was absorbing the blood.

"Ah, isn't Chixiao a Sacred Sword? How can it drink blood? It looks more like a Demon Blade..." "My fantasy is shattered; I don't think I can ever love again."

"I thought it was just sweet and innocent, but it completely subverts everything I believe!"

Amidst the numerous comments, several cold weapon enthusiasts stepped forward to reply, offering some impromptu education.

"Sacred Sword, Emperor Sword—those are just later interpretations. Concepts like Benevolent Path, Imperial Path, or Might Path are all nonsense. True weapons exist solely for the purpose of killing."

"In ancient times, the weapon with the greater killing power was the genuinely superior weapon. The fact that this sword can absorb blood is enough to show its terrifying lethality; it is undoubtedly the true Chixiao!"

"Exactly. A famous sword becomes famous not because of its reputation, but because it possesses formidable power, carving its name into history through countless battles..."

"That seems right too."

After these opinions were voiced, they quickly gained support. After all, the majority of people online are younger, with rapid acceptance capabilities. Furthermore, having experienced too many events that shattered their worldview, their hearts were already hardened.

In contrast, the emotions of the live audience were starting to feel uneasy—not quite fear, but definitely chillingly disconcerting.

However, regardless of everyone's mood, after a few minutes, the basin of crimson blood was completely drained. Old Zhou nodded in satisfaction and smoothly raised the blade high.

In an instant, everyone clearly saw that the Chixiao Sword had completely changed its appearance. Unlike its previous state—where the edge was as clear and bright as frost and snow—the entire body of the sword was now thoroughly dyed red, faintly emitting a soft luster under the illumination of the surrounding jewels and light. Yet, the sheen of the blade was no longer dazzlingly magnificent, but rather an intensely seductive hue.

Seeing this luster, some people felt a chill rise from the depths of their hearts, sensing that the Chixiao Sword was extremely dangerous.

Of course, the world never lacks those with tastes skewed towards the intense. Seeing the current state of the Chixiao Sword, some felt an innate admiration, their gazes filled with obsession: "Beautiful, so incredibly beautiful."

"Beautiful? It’s brimming with killing intent, that’s what it is!"

"It should be brimming with killing intent! How can a sword command awe without a murderous aura?"

"Now I finally understand why this sword was named Chixiao."

Hearing this, and then witnessing Old Zhou raise the treasured sword high, causing a streak of eerie red light to shoot toward the sky, everyone deeply agreed, praising the name as perfectly fitting.

"At this point, surely no one doubts this is the Chixiao Sword, right?" Old Zhou said with a light chuckle. "If anyone still has any lingering doubts, feel free to ask; we will answer them carefully."

Upon hearing Old Zhou’s words, the crowd exchanged glances, and then, without anyone taking the lead, everyone rose and began applauding enthusiastically, signifying they had no further questions and accepted the item as the genuine Chixiao. The applause thundered, continuing without pause for a long time.

Seeing this reaction, Old Zhou was also very pleased. After a few minutes, once the applause gradually subsided, he continued with a smile, "Since that is the case, I am deeply honored to announce that today's appraisal event has concluded successfully. Thank you all for your participation..."

"Don't end it!"

"Don't be so quick to finish; I haven't seen enough treasures yet!"

"Again, one more...!" At once, shouts of return arose from all directions. In response, Gao Dequan merely smiled faintly, acting as if he had heard nothing. He instructed the security guards to pack the items securely for escort back. Then he went to greet the panel of experts, thanking them for their support, which inevitably led to a gathering at a grand hotel.

Regarding Gao Dequan's invitation, some accepted readily, while others, having urgent matters, had to take their leave regretfully. Regardless, after several hours of viewing numerous priceless artifacts, both the experts on stage and the audience below felt a surge of profound emotion.

"What is the background of that museum? How can they possess so many treasures? Did they unearth the Dragon Palace’s treasury?"

"Haven't you heard? They belong to a mysterious grand collector; these are decades of savings. Speaking of which, I know a few major collectors, but I feel that all their collections combined aren't worth as much as one of their pieces."

"When you compare people and compare goods, you invite misery. There’s nothing that can be done about it."

"Heh heh, do you really think they don't have treasures of their own? Maybe not many, but certainly one or two pieces. But why would they needlessly tell you?"

"Right. Some people just prefer to guard their own knowledge and keep it secret..."

Amidst the lively discussions, the audience slowly dispersed, reluctant to leave.

Of course, the appraisal event was over, but after several days of brewing, a storm finally formed. Suddenly, at airports and train stations across the country, ticket purchasing difficulties—usually only seen during Golden Week or the Spring Festival travel rush—appeared. Everyone's destination was crystal clear: heading north, to Tianjin, to the Xiyi Museum.

Initially, the situation wasn't very obvious, but after a day, people noticed this trend, immediately adding fuel to the fire of the treasure incident, which was already a major social focal point attracting wide attention. It flared up like an exploding munitions depot, tumultuous and showing no signs of stopping. Major television stations reacted quickly, immediately inviting people from all walks of life—including social commentators, economic scholars, and treasure appraisers—to speak freely, either about the event itself or the treasures, offering in-depth analysis. Not just analyzing, but many also wanted to dissect them if conditions allowed.

Because many people were intensely curious, wanting to know how each item formed its incredible anomalies. Regarding this question, everyone had their own answer, some starting from a scientific angle, others delving into the occult. As long as they could logically justify themselves, they won elections of applause.

With opinions swirling, the truth became less important; people focused more on the treasures themselves. Those who genuinely couldn't travel to Tianjin couldn't help but appeal: A traveling exhibition, a tour is necessary... Where there is complaint, there is business opportunity. Heeding the public's demand, the directors of museums everywhere immediately mobilized, rushing to Tianjin to discuss cooperation with the Xiyi Museum.

In response, Elder Qian waved his hand grandly and agreed to all proposals, arranging the first stop at the Forbidden City.

After all, to tell the truth, the Forbidden City’s grounds were vast enough to accommodate a larger crowd than the Xiyi Museum could handle. Considering the ever-increasing number of visitors, the Xiyi Museum was already beginning to feel overburdened, necessitating a diversion of traffic. As for other touring cities, those could be discussed later.

Professional matters were delegated to professional people. Elder Qian had long since hired a specialized operations team to negotiate with the directors of the various museums. How profits would be distributed and how the tour would be structured needed to be documented precisely in contracts; this required careful negotiation, not perfunctory treatment.

While these parties were engaged in sharp dialogue, Gao Dequan brought back a piece of news.

"Christie's appraiser has started paying attention to that cup and has been inquiring about its origin?" Elder Qian pondered for a moment, then smiled, "It seems he has some insight after all."

"Uncle De, how did you respond?" Wang Guan asked with keen interest, "Did you directly tell him the cup might be the Western Holy Grail?"

"How could I?" Gao Dequan burst out laughing: "Even if I told him, he might not believe it."

"Indeed." Elder Qian’s eyes shone with sagacity: "Human psychology is strange like that. If we say it is, they are sure to think it isn't. If they start to believe it is, even if we explain it isn't, they won't believe us, thinking instead that we are deliberately concealing something."

"Brilliant!" Wang Guan deeply agreed.

"So, we don't need to meddle in this matter. Once the timing is right, things will resolve themselves naturally. The public's attention is the best catalyst. There are certainly experts among the populace; without us pushing things along, people will naturally dig deeper..."

The facts proved that Elder Qian’s foresight was sound; he understood human nature completely. Of the several items displayed at the appraisal fair, almost every single one had been explained in detail by the experts, with the exception of the Holy Grail.

At first, people didn't pay much mind to it, but they couldn't resist the existence of the verification experts... (To be continued)