The wealthy merchant naturally received his due punishment. As for Mr. Yao…” At this point, Old Qian frowned. “I had people investigate thoroughly, only to discover that there wasn't a single person surnamed Yao in that gang back then.”

“Perhaps he changed his name?” Yu Feibai speculated. “After all, it’s normal to fear being wanted and go into hiding under a new name.”

“Precisely,” Wang Guan agreed. “Just like Mr. Yao uses the alias Martin in America. It’s possible the surname Yao is also fake, and maybe even his daughter’s name has been changed.”

“What about that Meng Jian…”

Meanwhile, Yu Feibai whispered, “Has he cracked yet?”

“What cracking?”

Old Qian retorted irritably, “This is a civilized society; we don't resort to torture for confessions.”

“You don't need to force it.”

Yu Feibai offered a suggestion at the opportune moment, “Just put him in solitary confinement. After ten days or half a month, let’s see if he talks.”

“Nonsense, stop giving bad advice.” Old Qian shook his head slightly, then chuckled. “Although he hasn't said much, under everyone’s persuasion, he has wavered a bit and finally revealed a place name.”

“What place name?” Yu Feibai quickly pressed, and Wang Guan also listened with keen interest.

“Kaifeng!” Old Qian pondered. “Based on our deductions, he was probably trying to say that Great Master Zhu should be in Kaifeng. Or perhaps, something is hidden in Kaifeng…”

“Hidden something?” Yu Feibai asked in surprise. “Could it be that batch of counterfeits?”

“I’m not sure.” Old Qian was also somewhat puzzled. “But it doesn't matter. His attitude is softening daily; I expect he’ll voluntarily spill everything before long.”

“By the time he confesses, Great Master Zhu will probably be long gone,” Yu Feibai sighed, which was the simple truth.

After all, Great Master Zhu wasn't stupid. Meng Jian had been caught for so long; he must have gotten wind of it and was hiding somewhere. Digging him out might just come down to luck…

“Wang Guan, your luck has always been excellent.”

At this moment, Yu Feibai suggested, “Why don’t you try your luck in Kaifeng?”

“…Let me rest for two days first,” Wang Guan didn't refuse.

“Right, rest for two days, and then we’ll go together,” Yu Feibai stroked his chin. “I have a feeling something interesting is definitely going to happen once we get to Kaifeng City.”

“Your intuition… hasn’t exactly been accurate,” Wang Guan teased. “And it always stirs up trouble. Be careful you don't get caught by Bao Zheng in Kaifeng and get the dog-head guillotine treatment…”

“Scram.”

Yu Feibai retorted angrily, “I dare say my intuition this time is absolutely correct. If it’s not, I… won't ever go to Kaifeng again.”

“Tch!”

Wang Guan directly expressed his contempt. After all, Yu Feibai didn't live in Kaifeng, nor did he work there; whether he went there in the future was utterly irrelevant.

Regardless, after resting for two or three days, urged on by Yu Feibai, the two packed their bags and made their way to Kaifeng—the Bianjing of the Song Dynasty, the place depicted in Zhang Zeduan's Along the River During the Qingming Festival.

Of course, like many famous ancient capitals, Kaifeng, once the capital for seven dynasties, had naturally transformed into a modern metropolis after years of warfare and progress, with steel and concrete high-rises visible everywhere. Only in specific locations could one still appreciate remnants of the past.

This was the paradox of economics: succeeding through it and failing because of it. Under the great tide of the economy, people decades ago tore down all the ancient architecture to build a modern city. Yet, decades later today, realizing they missed the old structures—whether for promoting traditional Chinese culture or for tourism revenue—some cities began rebuilding ancient architecture.

It was a cycle, really. When it wasn't valued, it was discarded like worn-out shoes. But once they realized what they threw away was valuable, they rushed to pick it up again. Some might see this as short-sighted, purely profit-driven behavior.

However, it was also an unavoidable reality. Decades ago, China was in a state of poverty, where even basic sustenance wasn't guaranteed; talking about protecting cultural relics was simply a joke. Now that living conditions have improved, giving it gradual attention aligns with the laws of development.

It has always been this way from ancient times to the present. After a period of chaos, decades of recuperation are necessary before an era of peace can begin. Once peace arrives, cultural industries naturally flourish.

This is what they now call astute cultural development. Around the 1990s, neglecting cultural construction led to many embarrassing situations during foreign exchanges. Such past lessons must not be ignored.

Back to the point, upon arriving in Kaifeng, the two immediately looked for lodging. At the same time, Wang Guan casually asked, “Feibai, you can tell me now. What exactly are you planning to do in Kaifeng?”

“Find Great Master Zhu, of course,” Yu Feibai chuckled. “Didn't we agree on that…”

“That’s just one objective,” Wang Guan curled his lip. “I don’t know you that well. To find Great Master Zhu amidst the vast sea of people—what infinitesimal odds! Yet you’re so eager to come; you must have ulterior motives.”

“What ulterior motives? I have good intentions, alright,” Yu Feibai naturally countered. “Even if the chance is slim, I must contribute my meager effort.”

“Tch, who believes that?” Wang Guan chuckled and shook his head. “You don't possess such lofty conviction.”

“I didn’t before, but that doesn't mean I don’t now,” Yu Feibai declared solemnly. “Lately, I’ve been frequently visiting Banshan Temple to listen to the teachings of Master Banshan, and I received enlightenment, achieving sudden realization…”

“Stop talking nonsense,”

Wang Guan couldn't listen anymore. “If you've realized everything, why don’t you become a monk and join the clergy?”

“I simply had a sudden realization; I haven't seen through the mortal world,” Yu Feibai retorted irritably. “I’m in the prime of my youth right now; I haven't enjoyed life enough to become a monk.”

“I knew it,” Wang Guan nodded, then his expression turned serious. “No more jokes. Tell me quickly, what other purpose do you have for coming to Kaifeng?”

“Of course, to find Great Master Zhu, and…”

As he spoke, Yu Feibai asked mysteriously, “Have you ever heard of Chai Ware?”

“Chai Ware?”

In an instant, something stirred in Wang Guan’s mind. “When the rain clears and the clouds break, what color appears—that color of Chai Ware?”

“Exactly, that's it,”

At this moment, Yu Feibai was extremely excited. “Blue like the sky, bright as a mirror, thin as paper, sounding like a chime—Chai Ware, where a single shard is worth a thousand pieces of gold.”

“Of course, I know Chai Ware. It’s called the pinnacle of all historical Chinese kilns and was directly named after the surname of Emperor Shizong of the Later Zhou, Chai Rong. However, no one has ever managed to find its kiln site, leaving a mystery for ages,” Wang Guan frowned slightly. “Are you trying to tell me your purpose in coming to Kaifeng is to hunt for Chai Ware ceramics?”

“As expected of a good brother, you understand right away.”

Yu Feibai grinned widely, nodding repeatedly. “Exactly, that's what I’m thinking.”

“Uh… are you awake?”

Just then, Wang Guan couldn't help but reach out to touch Yu Feibai’s forehead, checking if he was delirious.

“I don’t have a fever.”

Yu Feibai slapped Wang Guan’s hand away, feeling somewhat annoyed. “I know Chai Ware is lost. It had already become rare by the mid-Northern Song Dynasty. Now, virtually no physical pieces remain.”

“It’s good that you know,”

Wang Guan nodded. “Starting from the mid-Northern Song, Chai Ware became extremely scarce, and after the Southern Song, it devolved into legend. During the Ming and Qing dynasties, it was infinitely exaggerated, leading to the saying that one shard was worth a thousand gold pieces. In reality, by that time, few people had probably ever seen genuine Chai Ware ceramics.”

“Even if there are supposed Chai Ware pieces now, they all have lingering questions, and there isn't sufficient evidence to prove they are truly Chai Ware. If historical records hadn't explicitly confirmed that such a thing once existed, some people would think Chai Ware was just a massive lie.”

As he spoke, Wang Guan spread his hands. “You’re perfectly aware of this situation, yet you still want to find Chai Ware. Isn't that aiming too high?”

“If I were looking on my own, I definitely wouldn't hold out much hope. But isn't there you?” Yu Feibai said righteously. “With your luck, the probability of discovering Chai Ware ceramics is definitely higher than mine.”

“You certainly have confidence,” Wang Guan felt a bit speechless.

“It’s not that I have confidence, but that I have confidence in you…” Yu Feibai said with a sly smile. “Enough talk. Let’s go check out the antique market in Kaifeng; maybe we’ll find something.”

Torn along by Yu Feibai, Wang Guan had no choice but to follow suit.

It must be said that Kaifeng has long been renowned throughout the land as a cultural ancient city, historically serving as a hub for antiques and curios. As early as the Northern Song Dynasty, extending through the Ming and Qing periods, the area around the Grand Xiangguo Temple in the city center housed numerous shops dealing in ancient books and artifacts.

It is said that the famous anecdote of Li Qingzhao and her husband pawning their clothes to buy ancient texts and rubbings took place within the Xiangguo Temple. However, after the founding of the People’s Republic, these antique shops all closed down. Although some antique shops reopened after the Reform and Opening Up, they never gained significant traction until the construction of the Songdu Imperial Street, which became a much larger antique market.

The so-called Songdu Imperial Street was a replica commercial street specifically built by the Kaifeng government to recreate the appearance of the Song Dynasty Imperial Street. According to historical records, during the Northern Song, the Tokyo Imperial Street ran north from the Xuan De Gate of the Imperial Palace, passing through Zhou Bridge and Zhuque Gate, straight to the Nanxun Gate of the outer city. It spanned over ten li in length and was two hundred paces wide, primarily used for the Emperor’s processions to display dignity and grandeur.

The newly built Imperial Street was constructed on the original site of the Imperial Street, stretching from Xinjiekou in the south to Wuchao Gate in the north. Symmetrical gate towers stood on both sides, with tier after tier of pavilions and shops whose plaques, couplets, banners, and signage were all drawn from Song Dynasty historical records, creating an antique atmosphere.

The shops lining the street each had distinct features, dealing in Kaifeng specialties, traditional goods, antiques, and calligraphy and paintings. Strolling along the Imperial Street felt like stepping across a thousand-year river of history, filling one with boundless longing for the prosperity of the former Song capital.

This is exactly where Wang Guan and Yu Feibai found themselves now. After taking a ride, they arrived before the Songdu Imperial Street. As they got out of the car, they looked up to see a huge archway, flanked by two majestic lions, with the surrounding architecture featuring intricately carved beams and painted rafters, dragons coiling and phoenixes soaring—exceptionally beautiful…

For more novels, visit storyread.net.