"It's three in the morning, everyone, please support with a vote if you have one. Thank you. Of course, no matter how much physical book publishing declines, a starved camel is still bigger than a horse. Publishing can still make money, especially publishing Lu Zigang's manuscripts. Wang Guan felt it would surely sell tens of thousands, perhaps even over a hundred thousand copies."

"Over a hundred thousand copies? At least several hundred thousand," Lu Chongming scoffed. "You underestimate the ancestor's status in our hearts. If people knew his manuscript was being published, not to mention anything else, every single jade carver would buy a copy."

"It's good that you know. I'm taking a massive loss," Wang Guan stated righteously. "So, when you become a Grandmaster, remember to carve ten or eight pieces to compensate me..."

"Grandmaster."

Lu Chongming was filled with longing, mixed with a degree of confidence. "Don't worry, I can do it, but it will take time."

"Mm, you should have that kind of confidence." Wang Guan nodded approvingly, then picked up the box and casually said, "I'm heading back. I've been busy for two or three days; it’s time to get back to real business."

"Stay for dinner," Lu Chongming naturally tried to keep him there.

"No need. I have dinner plans tonight, a big meal. Are you coming?" Wang Guan asked with a smile. Lu Chongming naturally shook his head in refusal; having just secured the Zigang Manual, he wasn't about to leave it now.

A moment later, under Lu Chongming's escort, Wang Guan drove off, preparing to return to Shanghai. Just as the engine started, he suddenly rolled down the window and said with a smile, "Brother Lu, I've taken the box. Don't regret it."

"Why would I regret it?" Lu Chongming looked somewhat perplexed.

Wang Guan offered no explanation, simply stepping on the accelerator. The car sped away, vanishing at the end of the street in an instant. Lu Chongming felt a bit bewildered but didn't dwell on it. He turned excitedly and hurried back into the house to study the manual.

In the blink of an eye, it was the next day—the final day of the Treasure exhibition at the Shanghai Museum.

That morning, the scene in front of the museum was as bustling as ever. The fervor for viewing the treasures had not subsided, as daily admission was limited. For an international metropolis with a population exceeding twenty million, daily visitor numbers in the thousands were merely a drop in the bucket, failing to satisfy public demand.

Furthermore, public enthusiasm hadn't been this high initially. However, continuous reports from local media had sparked greater curiosity among the masses, eager to witness firsthand whether the legendary rare treasures were truly as miraculous as rumored. Consequently, this caused no small amount of trouble for the museum staff.

Fortunately, difficult times always pass; today was the last day of the exhibition. While maintaining order, the security personnel felt noticeably more relaxed, sensing an imminent liberation before dawn.

Yet, it wasn't just the guards who felt this way; the visitors, too, knew that after today, the exhibition would conclude, at least in Shanghai. This realization further fueled their enthusiasm, causing many to arrive early at the museum, waiting for the gates to open and tickets to be checked.

In truth, throughout these past few days, every ticket check encountered opportunists trying to slip in. Excuses were endless: forgetting tickets, accidentally losing them, offering to pay a replacement fee, and the most audacious—people even managed to forge counterfeit tickets. However, every scheme failed under the keen eyes of the guards.

Of course, these were minor incidents. Having adapted over several days, the museum staff managed their duties smoothly, ushering the crowds into the exhibition halls to view the treasures in an orderly fashion. Soft sighs of admiration occasionally emanated from the crowd, and some even attempted to take photographs, only to be promptly stopped.

Nevertheless, given the large numbers, it was inevitable that some would secretly take photos undetected. Such illicitly taken images would surely circulate online soon, drawing crowds of onlookers, which in turn would pique the curiosity of many more, driving them to visit the museum.

Thus, prohibiting photography was merely a small trick, given human psychology: the more unattainable something is, the more one desires to see it. Exploiting this mindset ensured a healthy cycle of museum traffic.

As everyone immersed themselves in excited viewing, time slipped away unnoticed, and noon soon arrived. Some lingered, reluctant to leave, while others felt they had seen enough and departed contentedly.

As visitors left, the museum ticket windows immediately began selling new tickets, replenishing the count one for one. The visitor capacity remained consistently saturated. This explained why so many people milled about outside the museum despite the sold-out signs.

After all, human concentration is finite; one cannot stare intently at objects for seven or eight hours straight without tiring. Therefore, those who entered earlier would generally exit around noon, making way for another group. This was a pattern everyone had observed, and indeed, by midday, people began trickling out of the museum.

At first, it was just a handful, then small groups of three or five, until finally, groups of ten or twenty emerged together. This was expected, and people were not surprised; instead, they urged the ticket sellers to hurry and issue new tickets. However, just as the ticket seller was preparing to collect money, a wave of audible gasps and murmurs suddenly erupted from within the museum.

"What happened?"

Instantly, the crowds who had already exited and were about to leave the main doors paused their steps. After exchanging glances, they immediately retreated to see what was causing the commotion. Shortly after they returned inside, even louder sounds of astonishment rang out.

"Damn, what's going on?"

The people waiting outside, lacking tickets and confused by the situation, were consumed by curiosity but helpless, forced to stare longingly at the museum building, wishing they possessed X-ray vision to see inside.

It wasn't just astonishment; the flow of people who should have left around noon showed no sign of departing, lingering for another two hours before a few trickled out in small clusters.

Moreover, those emerging wore expressions of deep reluctance and lingering attachment, suggesting they were forced to leave for some reason. Seeing that no tickets were available, some people gathered around them, eager to inquire about the specifics.

"New treasure..."

"They just displayed another new treasure."

"...It's not the Confucius Sacred Traces Scroll, but a new treasure—the Nine Dragon Bi!"

"...How good is it? It’s hard to say. You’ll know when you go in to see it yourself. It is absolutely exquisite, rivaling any other treasure."

That was stating the obvious; if they could get in, they would have done so already instead of waiting. At this, many people rolled their eyes. Hearing that a new treasure was being exhibited ignited a curiosity in their hearts like an itch they couldn't scratch, causing them acute discomfort!

Of course, a few lucky individuals finally managed to purchase tickets at this point and, under the envious, jealous, and resentful gazes of the crowd, rushed into the museum without stopping, utterly absorbed in admiring the various treasures. Soon after entering, they noticed a large cluster of people gathered at the center of the exhibition hall and curiously moved to join the crowd.

Upon reaching the viewing area, the first thing they saw was a transparent glass pedestal. The stand was rather tall and held an object upon it. Additionally, several soft beams of light shone down from the ceiling, illuminating the object and causing it to shimmer with a magnificent luster.

However, the magnificent luster was merely the surface appearance. What truly stunned and astonished the onlookers was that within the intangible radiance, nine fierce, vaguely discernible dragons seemed to coil and soar around the object.

"Dragons?"

Anyone new to the exhibit would inevitably gasp upon seeing this sight. The nine dragons looked incredibly vivid and lifelike, animated by the lighting, appearing to flow slowly. Such a scene was shocking, leaving viewers agape while prompting questions: "What is this?"

"The Nine Dragon Bi."

Someone who had been staring longer managed to shake off the object's immediate spell and kindly explained, "Pay attention, this is Bi, as in the jade disk, not Bi as in wall. Same pronunciation, different characters. This is one of the Six Auspicious Jades of antiquity—a jade Bi."

"A jade Bi?"

The person blinked, finally pulling their focus back from the spectacle of the nine flying dragons, and then carefully examined the item on the glass stand. It was indeed a jade Bi, perfectly round with a small hole in the center.

Based on its texture, it appeared to be green jade, but it wasn't a pure green; rather, it possessed a clear lake color. This cyan-lake hue, mixed with white and tinged with turquoise, was strikingly transparent and eye-catching, indicating excellent material quality.

However, quality was secondary; what truly astonished observers was that there were no carvings of dragons etched onto the jade Bi as they might have expected. Instead, there were only textures arranged either meticulously or haphazardly.

On the surface, these shallow patterns seemed to be the work of a craftsman, yet they were carved haphazardly, as if etched randomly at whim. However, it was these random etchings that, illuminated by the lights, formed nine lifelike small dragons slowly swimming, as if frolicking in blue, watery waves.

"Ingenious craftsmanship, truly divine work!"

In that instant, the person searched their memory, finding only these two phrases to express their awe.

"It's a Grandmaster's work; of course, it's good!"

Simultaneously, someone nearby sighed, "You don't know, when the object was first revealed, seeing these random etchings, everyone thought they had been fooled. Who knew that once the lights swept over them, this scene would appear? It’s breathtaking."

"A Grandmaster's work?" the newcomer asked, astonished. "Which Grandmaster's piece is it?"

"Who else could it be? It's naturally the founding ancestor of jade carving, Lu Zigang!" the other person laughed. "The Zigang signature is actually inscribed within the Bi's central aperture. Besides, think about it—over several hundred years, who in the jade carving world besides Lu Zigang could be called a Grandmaster?"

"That's true..."

The newcomer wholeheartedly agreed, took another look, and immediately fell once more into the mesmerizing wonder of the Nine Dragon Bi.