“The Grandmaster’s Work, the Nine Dragon Bi!” “Following the footsteps of Confucius’s Sacred Sites series, another treasure graces the exhibition!” “One wave has barely subsided before another rises—just how many rare treasures does this mysterious private collector hold?”

That evening, the exhibition at the Shanghai Museum concluded, but for many, this was merely the beginning. Within mere hours, the news of the Nine Dragon Bi’s appearance spread across the vast lands of China and even reached corners of the world. Foreigners might not know who Lu Zigang was, but they were all awestruck by the breathtaking artistry of the Nine Dragon Bi.

As for the domestic audience, there was little need to elaborate; they were practically on the verge of an uproar. Not only were residents of cities like Beijing, Jinan, and Hefei dissatisfied, feeling the Xiyi Museum was showing favoritism, but even the people of Shanghai protested, complaining the exhibition period was too short—a clear tease designed to heighten anticipation. Naturally, people from other regions scoffed at such complaints.

Setting aside these various commotions, after seeing the news reports, Lu Chongming sat stunned for a long moment before immediately calling Wang Guan, only to find his line busy. Lu Chongming was not one to give up easily; after dialing repeatedly for nearly twenty minutes, he finally heard the connection tone.

Instantly, Lu Chongming blurted out, “What’s the deal with the Nine Dragon Bi?”

“It’s just what it is,” Wang Guan chuckled. “A masterpiece by your ancestor, Lu Zigang—unparalleled, truly one of a kind.”

“You know what I’m asking,” Lu Chongming pressed, speculating, “How did you acquire it? Was it that box…”

“That’s right.”

Wang Guan admitted frankly, “It was the stuff kept at the very bottom. You spent all your time reading the books and didn't notice there was another layer to that box. Anyway, I felt the weight was off, so when I got back, I dug around and found the Nine Dragon Bi.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner…”

“I was afraid you’d snatch it!”

“Am I that kind of person?”

“Hard to say. I wasn’t willing to take the risk…”

Hearing this, Lu Chongming was left speechless, then declared righteously, “The item is yours; I absolutely won’t try to take it. But you have to lend it to me to study for three to five months, at least.”

“That’s not a problem at all.”

Wang Guan agreed readily, “But you’ll have to wait; you can only borrow it after the exhibition concludes.”

Having secured an affirmative answer—not just for the Nine Dragon Bi, but also for the Hundred Steeds Jade Thumb Ring—Lu Chongming finally hung up, satisfied yet bearing a hint of regret, and continued his study of the secret manuals.

Regardless, the Shanghai exhibition was deemed a resounding success. While taking calls to explain the origin of the Nine Dragon Bi to friends and relatives, Wang Guan was simultaneously escorting the treasures to their next destination: Fuzhou in Fujian Province.

As a coastal city, Fuzhou’s economic status hardly needed mentioning; suffice it to say, it was affluent. With the requisite financial muscle, coupled with the intensely hyped news coverage from recent times, the exhibition attendance was predictable—the tickets for the first few days were snapped up long ago, everyone eagerly awaiting the official opening.

Naturally, specialized teams handled these affairs. Wang Guan’s role was merely to accompany, attend banquets, and make the final decisions.

Of course, Wang Guan had adapted to this shift in identity. In social settings, he performed the necessary courtesies with appropriate ease. When it came to concrete matters of profit distribution, he argued his case with firm reasoning. Everyone else operated the same way; there was nothing wrong with it.

The situation upon arriving in Fuzhou required no extensive retelling: first, he received enthusiastic hospitality, thanking a group of officials for their strong support, followed by an inspection of the local museum’s exhibition halls, finding fault where there was none…

After a busy half-day, things finally settled down towards evening. It was then that Wang Guan received a phone call. After a brief chat, he couldn't afford to rest, so he summoned two accompanying staff members and drove toward the pier.

Shortly after, they arrived at the port terminal. Stepping out into the sea breeze, Wang Guan felt his spirits lift, experiencing a sense of refreshing exhilaration. The pier was ablaze with lights, and the sound of crashing waves could be heard intermittently.

“Brother Wang, over here…”

At the same time, on a vessel docked nearby, someone waved enthusiastically in greeting.

“Coming,”

Wang Guan heard him and immediately approached with a smile, skillfully stepping onto the deck to meet the man onboard. The man was ruggedly built with skin tanned dark from constant exposure to the sun and sea winds.

“Big Brother Gao, long time no see.”

Wang Guan asked with a smile, “When I was in Shanghai, I caught up with Yu Jie and Xiao Wen, but you were out sailing. I didn't expect to find you near Fuzhou.”

“Xiao Wen told me about it, and when I found out you were already in Fuzhou, I gave you a call,” the man chuckled, his snow-white, silvery teeth contrasting sharply with his dark complexion. This was Gao Zhuang, whom Wang Guan and others had met months ago while salvaging a sunken ship after Gao Zhuang’s fishing boat was stolen.

Incidentally, the fishing boat stolen from Gao Zhuang was seized by Mr. Zhu Da’s gang and used as a prop to frame Fang Mingsheng. The boat should still be held at the Shantou Customs; Gao Zhuang could probably retrieve it if he presented proof.

However, times had changed. The current Gao Zhuang no longer cared about his old fishing boat. After Wang Guan discovered the pirate treasure, Gao Zhuang, being fiercely loyal, was given a share, instantly turning him into a multi-millionaire.

With several million in assets, Gao Zhuang had enough to live comfortably. But he wasn't satisfied; instead, he became obsessed with underwater salvaging. Later, he somehow connected with Tang Qinghua, and the two collaborated, complementing each other’s strengths. Gao Zhuang was responsible for salvaging materials underwater, and Tang Qinghua handled the liquidation…

It turned out Gao Zhuang bought a new boat and reassembled his original crew. Over the past few months, they had indeed salvaged a considerable amount of valuable porcelain, which, after being sold through Tang Qinghua, resulted in initial profits, solidifying his conviction.

Of course, following the pirate treasure incident, salvaging porcelain felt like child’s play to Gao Zhuang. His greatest ambition was to find a pirate hoard, just like Wang Guan had. However, rumors about pirate treasures were plentiful, but concrete leads were scarce. Searching aimlessly was akin to looking for a needle in the ocean.

Over these past few months, Gao Zhuang had hauled up plenty of porcelain, but he hadn't even glimpsed a shadow of a pirate treasure.

“It’s fine, I can search slowly,”

At this point, Gao Zhuang sounded very confident, “If not one day, then one month; if not one month, then one year; if not one year, then ten years; if not ten years, then a lifetime. I refuse to believe I won’t find anything before I retire. Even if I’m that unlucky, I still have a son and a grandson to carry on the search…”

It seemed Gao Zhuang intended to emulate the Foolish Old Man, whose efforts would continue through generations unbound. Wang Guan applauded this sentiment, then drove the point home incisively: “Of course, the prerequisite is that you first need to marry a wife!”

The surrounding deckhands paused for a moment, then burst into loud laughter, all nodding in agreement, punctuated by whistles and playful shouts.

“Brother Wang is right! Boss Gao, you’re a bachelor, talking about sons and grandsons.”

“Forget talking about wives; get a girlfriend first…”

Hearing the teasing, Gao Zhuang immediately grew indignant, rolling up his sleeves to reveal thick, muscular arms as a threat: “You little rascals, if I don't beat you up for three days, you’ll start tearing the roof off, won’t you?”

Seeing the situation, the crew immediately dispersed to avoid becoming the recipients of his discipline.

As it happened, Gao Zhuang was still unmarried for a reason. In the past, his family's poor conditions required him to support his elderly mother and younger sister; he was genuinely held back. Now, he was focused on building a career and had no immediate intention of marrying. Or perhaps, even if he wanted to marry, he hadn't met the right person, leaving him with no recourse.

Understanding the underlying reasons, Wang Guan merely smiled and said nothing more. After all, everyone’s perspectives differed, and so did their views on marriage. It was his personal matter, and Wang Guan didn't intend to meddle and risk causing annoyance.

Gao Zhuang quickly changed the subject, preparing to treat Wang Guan to seafood. This was genuine seafood—fish and crabs that had been swimming lively just moments before being expertly cooked by Gao Zhuang, filling the air with a rich aroma that made one’s mouth water.

“This is nothing,”

Gao Zhuang said humbly, chuckling. “It’s far inferior to the Buddha Jumps Over the Wall from Min cuisine. We had some not long ago; the taste truly lives up to the name—indescribably delicious.”

“Is that so?” Wang Guan smiled. “Then I must try it if I get the chance. But judging by your tone, it sounds like you’ve been lingering around Fuzhou for a while.”

“Over a month now,” Gao Zhuang admitted readily. “Mainly running back and forth between Fuzhou and Quanzhou.”

“Oh.”

Wang Guan pondered this. “Speaking of which, Fuzhou and Quanzhou were considered starting points of the Maritime Silk Road in ancient times. There should be many shipwrecks there. Have you found anything?”

“‘Found’ is too strong a word; it’s mostly just blind luck,” Gao Zhuang sighed. “Occasionally we pull up some broken bowl fragments. Young Master Tang doesn’t care for them, so he lets us sell them locally. It counts as a perk, I suppose.”

“That’s not bad either,” Wang Guan comforted him. “Think about it—the sea is fickle. In decades, the number of discovered shipwrecks, both domestic and foreign, can be counted on one hand. That shows salvaging shipwrecks isn't a matter of a day or two; it requires immense patience.”

“I know,” Gao Zhuang smiled. “I’ve been sailing for ten years; patience is the one thing I don't lack…”

Ten years of youth, most of it spent at sea. For some, the novelty of sailing wears off, leading to boredom, monotony, and depression. But to persist for ten years suggests that one might not necessarily be in love with seafaring but has certainly grown accustomed to the lifestyle, naturally finding one's own joys within it.

Gao Zhuang was such a person. Despite having enough wealth for a comfortable life, he still chose to navigate the seas, indicating that he harbored a driving desire, a grand ambition. With a pursuit and a goal, the routine naturally wouldn't feel dull.

Wang Guan felt genuine admiration at this point. “Ten years to sharpen a sword. With enough patience, how can you fear a lack of harvest?”

“I hope so.”

This time, it was Gao Zhuang’s turn to offer a wry smile. “These things are hard to predict. It also depends on whether the Dragon King grants us a meal…”