The raising of bids at the literary auction house, Wen Xue Ba, was hardly an uncommon occurrence in auction settings.

Sometimes, it wasn't about the item being auctioned at all, but simply disliking another bidder; upon seeing someone desperately wanting an object, one could inflate the price just to make them spend more—a form of petty revenge, perhaps.

Elder Fang was long past being surprised by such tactics and merely smiled, allowing Wang Guan to proceed as he wished.

This disposition clearly showed that he was somewhat displeased by the foreigners competing with him for the Guanyin statue, which was why he made no move to stop the bidding war.

However, what was rather unexpected was that those blond, blue-eyed foreigners valued the Hebrew Bible far more highly than anyone had anticipated.

Perhaps there were actual Jewish people among them.

While Wang Guan mused on this, the bidding price kept climbing, escalating dramatically with almost every passing blink of an eye.

Only after several minutes did the pace slow, leaving just two or three individuals still in contention.

Among these finalists was Wang Guan, who casually manipulated his equipment.

Whenever someone placed a bid, he instantly countered with a higher one at the quickest possible speed.

And just like that, the object landed squarely in his hands.

This was a normal outcome; no matter how fine an object, if the price exceeds one's psychological bottom line, competing bidders will inevitably withdraw, thus allowing Wang Guan to secure the purchase.

Moreover, because Wang Guan acted so swiftly, Elder Fang realized something was amiss and attempted to intervene, but it was already too late.

Seeing this, Elder Fang frowned, wanting to reprimand him but hesitant to speak.

After all, Wang Guan’s intentions were fundamentally good; he had simply gotten carried away for a moment.

With this thought, Elder Fang swallowed his criticism and instead offered comfort, “It’s fine.

The item is quite precious, and your bid wasn't completely out of line.

I’ll help you find a buyer later; we might even turn a small profit.” “No worries,” Wang Guan replied cheerfully at this point.

“I’ll donate it directly to the Palace Museum when we get back and perhaps get a commendation banner in return.

That way, they can stop saying I’m stingy and not supporting national cultural preservation efforts.” Although this was just an excuse, Wang Guan did harbor a sliver of resentment and genuinely considered donating the Bible set to the Palace Museum just to see the expressions on the faces of those grand experts—they would surely be priceless.

As Wang Guan smiled silently to himself, the Hongzhi Chicken-Fat Yellow Porcelain Plate was dazzlingly brought forth.

In that instant, not only did Wang Guan compose himself and carefully observe his surroundings, but the cluster of wealthy Chinese businessmen also became visibly eager, ready to jump into the fray.

As previously mentioned, the color yellow represented the most venerable hue in the eyes of the Chinese, signifying imperial power and supreme authority.

For a group of tycoons, acquiring this piece meant not only gaining significant prestige but also holding a certain symbolic value.

Of course, the most critical factors were the rarity of the item and its inherent quality, which inevitably determined its extraordinary worth.

“I wonder about the provenance of this piece,” Elder Fang remarked thoughtfully at the same time.

“If its background weren’t questionable, it would mean the owner was desperate for cash to be selling it so casually here.” If he hadn't been aware of the item's true nature, Wang Guan would have wholeheartedly agreed with Elder Fang.

After all, this venue was, fundamentally, a black market.

If the item had a clear pedigree, there would be no need to sell it here; they could have sent it directly to a major auction house for a legitimate sale.

Under such high scrutiny, the price would undoubtedly be much higher.

Unlike here, where despite universal interest, mutual restraint kept the final price within certain limits.

“What a pity,” Elder Fang sighed with a touch of regret.

Wang Guan smiled but offered no reply, mainly because he had no time to be distracted at this critical juncture.

The instant others began to bid, Wang Guan engaged his full psychic abilities, closely monitoring everyone’s emotional state to detect any exceptionally anomalous reactions.

A moment later, Wang Guan frowned slightly.

He couldn't tell if it was because Mr.

Zhu the Elder was absent or perhaps too seasoned and cunning; none of the suspects he was focusing on revealed any real tells.

Even when minor emotional fluctuations occurred, they were too ordinary to suggest that person was Mr.

Zhu the Elder.

“Is his guard really that deep?” Wang Guan felt a flicker of disappointment.

However, he did not give up hope, continuing his intense search.

He broadened his focus beyond the immediate suspects to include everyone present, even scrutinizing the auction staff.

Heaven rewards the diligent, and Wang Guan’s efforts eventually yielded a return.

After a long search, he finally identified one person whose emotional state was highly irregular.

Unlike the others, this individual was not bidding but was intensely focused on the price of the chicken-fat yellow porcelain plate.

Every time a high bid was announced, a profound smile would bloom on his lips, and he would clench his fist, silently cheering for the price to climb even higher.

Normally, only the owner of an item would hope for the highest possible auction price to maximize their own benefit.

Upon discovering this, Wang Guan was struck by a mixture of excitement and alarm, immediately locking onto his target.

However, upon closer inspection, Wang Guan froze.

The person was not Mr.

Zhu the Elder, or at least, this individual did not match the image of Mr.

Zhu the Elder that he had envisioned.

Most significantly, Wang Guan recognized this man: he was the young painter named Mo You.

“What’s going on?” Wang Guan was momentarily stunned.

He then fell into deep contemplation: perhaps this man wasn't Mr.

Zhu the Elder, but could he be an accomplice?

With this thought forming, Wang Guan focused even more intently on Mo You, and the look of unconcealed joy on Mo You’s face after the bidding concluded only solidified this suspicion.

“It seems I need to investigate this further.” Wang Guan’s eyes flashed, and he flagged Mo You as a priority person for investigation.

He didn't stop there, however, continuing to monitor the other guests, hoping for another pleasant surprise.

Regrettably, until the auction concluded, Wang Guan discovered no other anomalies.

After paying for and collecting his purchased item, the gathering was nearing its end.

At this point, invited guests could choose to remain on the ship to continue socializing and dining, or they could leave immediately.

“Let’s go,” Elder Fang decided, choosing to depart while sighing softly, “It’s a shame Mr.

Zhu the Elder didn’t show up.” “Indeed,” Wang Guan echoed, though he felt a bit strange.

“Elder Fang, how did you know?” “It wasn’t just you watching.” Elder Fang smiled faintly at the opportune moment.

“While you were looking around, I was subtly questioning and gathering intelligence on the backgrounds of those unfamiliar faces.

Although some identities remained uncertain, I inquired about the backgrounds of anyone with an East Asian appearance.

They seem to have no connection to Mr.

Zhu the Elder.” “Ah…” Wang Guan realized the truth with sudden clarity, sincerely admiring Elder Fang’s methods.

In comparison, his own efforts felt like merely passing the time.

He would have been terribly embarrassed if he hadn't uncovered anything at all.

“Don’t be discouraged,” Elder Fang reassured him.

“We’ve confirmed he is still in Taiwan.

He won’t leave easily before achieving his objective, so we still have a chance.

No matter how cunning he is, catching him once will be enough.” “Mm,” Wang Guan agreed wholeheartedly.

After securing his items, he glanced back at the cruise ship.

His gaze penetrated the layers of decking, lingering on Mo You for a deep moment before he followed Elder Fang out.

Shortly thereafter, the two returned to Taiwan and then parted ways.

Wang Guan drove back to his hotel.

It was late, and since Gao Zhuang and Tao Li had already left, only he and his team—who were handling the exhibition logistics—remained at the hotel.

Furthermore, to cover for him, the team members had accepted an invitation from Director Cui to attend another gathering.

Thus, when Wang Guan returned, his entire suite was eerily empty and silent.

Seeing this situation, he paused for a moment, then immediately pulled out his phone to make a call.

Soon after, Cai Peng arrived at the hotel accompanied by several bodyguards, striding in with confidence.

“Here…” Wang Guan gestured lightly in the hotel restaurant.

The table was already laden with an extravagant feast, waiting only for Cai Peng to sit down before they could start eating and drinking.

“I apologize for calling you out so late,” Wang Guan said, raising his glass with a smile.

“It’s mainly that eating alone is rather boring, and you’re the only friend I’ve made in Taiwan, so I had no choice but to call you.” “If you hadn’t called, I’d be the one complaining to you,” Cai Peng replied heartily, downing his drink in one swift gulp without spilling a drop.

“But didn’t you mention you were visiting an elder today?” Cai Peng asked, looking quite curious.

“You look like you haven't eaten all day.” “I was at a gathering with the elder, and we were only drinking; there was no time to eat,” Wang Guan explained.

After devouring a piece of meat, he suddenly showed a mysterious smile.

“Do you know who I saw at the gathering?” “Who?” Cai Peng blinked.

“President Ma?” “No.” Wang Guan shook his head slightly, then chuckled.

“It was your father.” “What!” Cai Peng was taken aback.

“Isn’t my dad in a meeting at the company?

When did he join a gathering?” “This morning.

He’s been there all day,” Wang Guan smiled.

“He hadn’t left when I did.” “Really?” Cai Peng started to believe him and asked with a frown, “What kind of gathering was it?” “A rather discreet one.

The guests included tycoons from Southeast Asia, wealthy merchants from the Middle East, and big bosses from Europe and America,” Wang Guan elaborated.

“They were gathered to network and discuss business.” “I see,” Cai Peng said with relief.

“Oh, right,” Wang Guan said, smiling at that moment.

“That painter, Mo You—the one who scammed your father—was also at the gathering.” “What?” Cai Peng immediately became indignant.

“That punk had the nerve to show up!

Did he apologize or confess to my dad?” “Probably not,” Wang Guan shook his head.

“There were many people there.

Your father was deep in conversation with a few major magnates, and I didn’t feel comfortable approaching to chat, so perhaps he didn't even know I was there.

As for Mo You, he was engrossed with a few blond beauties; he probably didn't have time to notice your father either.” “That bastard,” Cai Peng snorted.

“I’ll settle accounts with him sooner or later!” “Calm down,” Wang Guan advised him gently.

“In truth, he didn’t actually do anything wrong…” 〖Book Web ∷Fast Update ∷No Pop-ups ∷Pure Text ∷www.〗RT