At this moment, Old Duan was indeed somewhat suspect. He was clearly a master Di Shi (geomancer) of considerable skill. He had been boasting earlier, but now he steadfastly refused to acknowledge it, even going so far as to label Feng Shui and metaphysics as feudal superstition. This fickleness was truly characteristic of his trade, mastering the art of speaking one way to one person and another way to another.

Wang Guan watched this display with detached amusement, though curiosity stirred within him. Was this frivolous young man also surnamed Kong? And how had he acquired that half-piece of a Danshu Tiejuan (imperial pardon document)? Could it be connected to Kongjia Village?

While Wang Guan pondered, the youth seemed not to register Old Duan’s intent to refuse, continuing with a cheerful smile: "Old Duan, you are too modest. Others, perhaps, but in this entire mountain village, who doesn't know you are a master of site selection? And this ancestral hall—wasn't it you who helped choose the location and supervise its construction?"

"It wasn't..." Old Duan denied flatly, not batting an eye. As the saying goes, old age breeds cunning; the man was clearly determined to lie through his teeth—what could one do?

Just then, the frivolous youth fell silent, but he was not one to give up easily. With a quick turn of his eyes, he shifted his target to Old Yan beside him, aiming for a roundabout success.

"Old Yan, off to paint again? Have you considered my previous proposal? Your drawings are actually quite good; just hand them over to me. I’ll sell them for you, and I guarantee they'll fetch a high price."

As he spoke, the youth thumped his chest, adopting an air of absolute certainty. Old Yan merely smiled, showing no particular reaction. It was Old Duan who seemed slightly curious and casually asked, "A high price? How high exactly?"

"A reaction is good," the frivolous youth rejoiced inwardly, quickly stating, "At least several hundred per piece. If luck is on your side, maybe even a thousand yuan."

"A thousand..." Upon hearing this, Old Duan suddenly burst into laughter and clapped his hands: "Right, that’s the price! Old Yan, did you hear that? That’s the standard for your paintings. I say you should stop painting altogether and just go home to mind the shop."

"I don't paint for money."

Old Yan also smiled, saying calmly, "As long as I enjoy it, the price doesn't matter."

He had the right to say such a thing; it was genuine detachment, not a performance of aloofness to gain fame. Anyone who quietly pursues what they love for decades, regardless of outstanding achievement, deserves respect.

The frivolous youth failed to grasp this, expressing his regret: "What a pity. If you sold a dozen pieces a day, you'd make several thousand. That’s much faster than running the shop."

Old Duan and Old Yan smiled without speaking. But Wang Guan, observing from the side, clearly saw the profound meaning in their gazes, as if they were watching a monkey leaping about just to entertain them. He glanced again at the frivolous youth, who remained entirely unaware of this fact.

In that case, perhaps ignorance truly was bliss. As Wang Guan watched, a hint of pity involuntarily entered his eyes. However, it might have been too obvious, as it caught the frivolous youth’s attention.

"Eh..." The youth looked at Wang Guan, finding him vaguely familiar, and suddenly remembered—wasn't this the young proprietor from the capital? More importantly, he was incredibly easy to deceive... wait, no, incredibly kind and good-hearted.

Remembering Wang Guan, the youth immediately broke into a brilliant smile and hurried over: "Boss, why are you here? Are you touring the countryside looking for old houses? You don't need to trouble yourself like this; just give me a call, and I can get whatever you need and deliver it right to your door."

"You know each other?" Old Duan’s eyes widened in surprise.

"Yes, of course, we know each other."

The frivolous youth declared boastfully, "This is a big boss from the capital, specifically here to see me..."

"Is that so?" Old Duan couldn't help but laugh. "Old Yan, it turns out he was just stopping by to see you in passing; his real purpose is to find Kong Chao to handle something."

"What?"

The frivolous youth, who was indeed Kong Chao, wasn't stupid; he’d just been momentarily muddled by greed. Hearing Old Duan’s laughter now, he instantly understood.

Wang Guan was seated right beside Old Duan and Old Yan; they must know each other, perhaps even arrived together, and here he was claiming to be visiting him—he must have made a fool of himself...

Thinking of this, Kong Chao’s expression became slightly awkward, but his skin was thick enough that he recovered instantly. He quickly changed the subject, asking curiously, "Boss, you aren't here to look for houses?"

"I'm here to visit Old Yan," Wang Guan smiled, his gaze flickering slightly. "Of course, if the village has any good items, I wouldn't mind taking a few back."

"Oh, we definitely have good things!" Kong Chao exclaimed proudly. "Our village is descended from Confucius the Sage; we’ve been established for over two thousand years, so we have countless rare treasures. Some people don't recognize quality and treat treasures like trash, but Boss, you are an expert; you certainly wouldn't be so blind..."

It was an obvious, crude attempt at goading, one that most people wouldn't fall for and might even find offensive. But Wang Guan had other intentions and naturally didn't expose him, instead nodding lightly: "I did hear about your village's origins from Old Duan just now. It certainly has a deep background."

"However, hearing is deceptive; seeing is believing."

Wang Guan chuckled lightly: "It can't just be good because you say it is; you have to let me see it at least... Never mind, let's eat first. I'll be staying overnight with Old Yan and the others. Bring whatever treasures you have later."

Just then, a crowd of villagers streamed in—some bringing tables, others bringing stools. But more were carrying large basins and bowls filled with chicken, duck, fish, and meat, along with their own home-brewed rice wine. In an instant, the ancestral hall was filled with the aroma of food and drink.

Seeing this scene, even if Kong Chao wanted to drag Wang Guan off to see his "treasures," he had to give up. But with the guarantee of Wang Guan staying the night, he wasn't in a hurry anymore. He smiled as he watched everyone busy themselves, and only when the formal banquet began did he cheekily squeeze in beside Wang Guan, offering toasts and serving him dishes, attending to him with meticulous care.

Kong Chao certainly ignored the frowns of his clansmen, focusing entirely on pleasing Wang Guan. In his mind, a big boss deserved to be revered. Once the boss was satisfied, a little money would inevitably slip through his fingers, enough for Kong Chao to live extravagantly for several months.

Putting aside Kong Chao’s machinations, the others, excluding that generally unpopular fellow, ate and drank heartily, quite happily. Of course, the purpose of the banquet was to thank Old Yan for his generosity, so the villagers kept toasting him.

Old Yan couldn't bear to refuse everyone's kindness and accepted every drink. By the time the banquet was halfway through, he was already quite tipsy. Then, the villagers turned their attention to Old Duan. By the end of the feast, both elders were utterly drunk and insensible.

Naturally, there was no need to worry; the villagers carefully looked after the two old men. As for Wang Guan, thanks to Kong Chao's presence right next to him, no villager was willing to bother him.

This situation perfectly suited Kong Chao's plans. After eating and drinking his fill, he wiped his mouth and cheerfully suggested, "Boss, how about coming over to my place for a cup of tea?"

"...Fine." After seeing Old Duan and Old Yan helped to a villager's house to rest, Wang Guan nodded and followed Kong Chao toward his home.

By this time, the sky had turned completely dark. In the mountain village, there were no streetlights; only the lights from each household served as guides, barely illuminating the path ahead.

Fortunately, Kong Chao's house wasn't far from the ancestral hall, only about a five or six-minute walk.

"This is it."

Arriving at the destination, Kong Chao dashed over, deftly pushed open the large door, hurried inside to turn on the electric light, and then rushed back out, smiling broadly, inviting Wang Guan in.

Wang Guan stepped inside, taking the opportunity to survey the surroundings. At first glance, he felt quite surprised; the house looked incredibly dilapidated, a stark contrast to Kong Chao’s trendy and polished attire.

But thinking deeper, Wang Guan felt a sense of understanding. It was apparent that Kong Chao was a man who cared deeply about appearances; even if his family was on the brink of starvation, he would likely put on a brave face.

As expected, when inviting Wang Guan in, Kong Chao felt the need to over-explain: "This is the ancestral home. I haven't lived here in a long time, so it’s a bit run-down. Please don't mind, Boss."

"Mmm, it’s alright," Wang Guan said calmly. "An ancestral home is good; there are bound to be more old things."

"Yes, yes, exactly!" Kong Chao nodded repeatedly and quickly ushered Wang Guan toward the main hall.

The hall held a few long benches and short stools, their surfaces coated in a layer of dust. Perhaps Kong Chao wasn't lying; he truly hadn't lived here in ages, preferring to socialize outside rather than stay in the relatively crumbling ancestral dwelling.

"Boss, please sit."

After vigorously wiping down a chair, Kong Chao quickly moved it next to Wang Guan and smiled, "You sit here for a moment, and I'll go get things out now."

"Mm."

Wang Guan nodded slightly. Only after Kong Chao left the hall did he carefully examine the layout. He saw that, like many rural buildings, this house was constructed of mud bricks and tiles. A slight touch of refinement was a layer of lime plaster over the bricks, but given its age, the lime was beginning to peel off in patches, exuding an air of decay.

This state of ruin wasn't just on the surface architecture; it lacked vitality.

Although most houses in the mountain village were mud-brick structures, they were generally clean. Even if they looked old, they were maintained by someone and one could hear the crowing of roosters, the barking of dogs, and the laughter of children—this was life and human energy, creating a feeling of upward momentum and prosperity.

But this place was different. Even with all the hall lights on, the sound of the wind rustling only made the silence more profound. Silence was a cultured term; in reality, it was deathly still, like a haunted house.

"Staying here too long would probably scare the illness into you even if you were well," Wang Guan muttered, just as Kong Chao appeared, struggling to drag over a large bundle of items.

"Boss, take a look..."

Kong Chao spread out the large bundle, saying expectantly, "These are the treasures left by my ancestors. See if you like any of them."