"Not necessarily worth laughing at, but we could certainly have a friendly spar," the shopkeeper's eyes glinted slyly, a smile playing on his lips. "You mentioned just now that this piece is from the Republic era? I beg to differ. After all, during the Republic period, the nation was consumed by ceaseless warfare and unstable times. The kilns must have been affected; how could they have managed to fire something this exquisite?"

"Boss, that sounds a bit like twisting words to suit your argument."

Wang Guan chuckled. "If we follow your logic, then all the fine porcelain from the Republic era on the market must be forgeries. Although the porcelain from the Guangxu period can be seen as a revival amidst the overall decline of late Qing ceramics—the imperial ware having thicker bodies and finer, whiter paste—there were indeed many masterpieces."

"However, in my view, while this piece is good, it absolutely was not fired in an imperial kiln during Guangxu's reign."

At this moment, Wang Guan picked up the brush rest, examining it closely before offering his critique. "Boss, look here. It appears dense and substantial. But upon closer inspection, you can still see numerous small 'pinholes' (dark spots), which fully illustrate the imperfection in the craftsmanship. The item is decent, but when compared to Guangxu imperial ware, there is definitely a gap."

"Conversely, the private kilns of the Republic era, being responsible for their own profits and losses, managed to fire quite a few excellent pieces."

Wang Guan spoke fluently. "Of course, considering that Guangxu and the Republic era are not separated by an immense span of time, if you insist this piece was fired on the very last day of Guangxu's reign, I won't argue the technicality with you."

"If that's the case, I might as well claim it's from the Xuantong period," the shopkeeper said, unable to decide whether to laugh or cry.

"Heh, Boss, let's just drop the debate then," Wang Guan laughed lightly. "Whether late Qing or Republic, it's only a span of a few decades. Since the brush rest has no reign mark, whether you call it late Qing or Republic simply boils down to the price point. In any event, it's definitely not official kiln ware. If you insist on demanding ten thousand, I must respectfully decline."

"Fine, let's stop arguing. I'll take a small loss and meet you halfway," the shopkeeper conceded readily. "Nine thousand, and you can take it."

"Boss, that's not stepping back halfway; you haven't even moved half a step."

Wang Guan smiled slyly. "If you take one step back, I'll take one step forward—two thousand one."

"Little brother, you are being utterly unreasonable," the shopkeeper shook his head in dissatisfaction. "I dropped a thousand, and you only raised by a hundred. Aren't you treating me like a guāwázi (country bumpkin)?"

Wang Guan paused, slightly confused by the shopkeeper's sudden use of Sichuan dialect, but he managed to grasp the gist.

What followed, without further elaboration, was a back-and-forth haggling session, a tug-of-war that lasted over ten minutes.

Bargaining, after all, is an art of compromise, a mutual probing of the other's psychological bottom line. It is an exercise that severely tests one's patience; whoever loses their nerve first, loses the exchange.

"Five thousand."

Finally, the shopkeeper settled on this price, unyielding.

Wang Guan frowned upon hearing this and stood up, asking softly, "Five thousand yuan, do you want it or not?"

"Did we get ripped off?" Yu Feibai whispered quietly.

"Certainly not," Wang Guan shook his head. "It's just that the piece is nice, and it would complete a set with the Kuixing Inkstone and the famous old ink, forming a complete scholar's ensemble. I was only haggling for your sake."

"Ah, fine, just charge it to the card then."

Yu Feibai let out a long, listless sigh, letting the shopkeeper wrap up the brush rest.

Seeing this, the shopkeeper couldn't help but muse, "Little brother, don't think it's expensive. This piece is definitely late Qing; five thousand is a bargain. If I didn't take a liking to you both, I wouldn't have been willing to sell it."

"Back then, when I was at your place..." Yu Feibai raised an eyebrow, ready to launch into a few choice curses to vent his frustration.

Suddenly, Wang Guan pulled him back, shaking his head as a warning: "Don't say anything."

"What's wrong?"

Yu Feibai was utterly bewildered. Only after paying and stepping outside did he ask in confusion, "He tried to pass off a Republic-era item as a Ming Dynasty genuine piece and swindled me. Surely I can't even complain a little now?"

"You'd only be exposing your own foolishness and inviting more ridicule," Wang Guan lowered his voice. "Besides, are you absolutely certain you were swindled here for a fake in the past?"

"Of course! Yongfa Antiques. I'll remember that name for life... Wait, why does it say Yongfeng Antiques?" Yu Feibai gritted his teeth, then spun around suddenly, instantly dumbfounded.

Above the doorway of the antique shop they had just exited, the large signboard prominently featured the character "Yong" (), rendered in an elegant, flowing, ancient style using a variant script. However, the subsequent characters "Feng Antiques Shop" () were noticeably smaller than the character "Yong" but used standard, clear script.

It was unequivocally the Yongfeng Antiques Shop, not the Yongfa Antiques Shop Yu Feibai had in mind.

There were two possible reasons for this discrepancy. Either Yu Feibai had misremembered, confusing Yongfeng with Yongfa, or he had made a blunder and mixed up two different shops.

Wang Guan smiled faintly. "Think back—are the shop's furnishings the same as they were back then? Specifically, was the shopkeeper the same one who tricked you?"

"This..."

Yu Feibai frowned, wracking his brain, and hesitated. "It seems, perhaps, possibly... not here. I just saw a 'Yong' character and rushed in. And after all this time, just remembering the shop's name is an achievement. Furthermore, the shop's layout can change, can't it? As for the shopkeeper... he's definitely not the one from back then."

"So, it was a mistake, then," Wang Guan said, seemingly relieved.

"It appears so." Yu Feibai's face flushed red with embarrassment.

"After all that fuss, we pulled a massive boner," Wang Guan said, half-amused, half-exasperated. "Luckily, you didn't complain just now, or the joke would have been on us."

"Stop talking about it, let's just leave quickly."

The mortification Yu Feibai felt was indescribable. He grabbed Wang Guan, eager to escape this awkward locale.

Wang Guan, however, remained still, his expression turning peculiar. He spoke slowly. "Feibai, remember what I mentioned earlier? Uncle De has a friend who runs an antique shop here..."

"I remember..." Yu Feibai blinked in confusion, then his red face drained to white, replaced by horror. "You’re not going to tell me this shop's name is also Yongfeng?"

"It's quite a coincidence, but that is indeed the case," Wang Guan laughed heartily. "If there isn't another Yongfeng Antiques Shop in this entire market, then this must be the one."

Yu Feibai was both ashamed and frantic, unable to help but complain, "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"How could I have said anything?" Wang Guan countered with a smile. "You kept muttering 'Yongfa, Yongfa.' It sounded familiar to me, and before I could even get a clear look at the sign, you had already dragged me inside."

For a moment, Yu Feibai was speechless, but in the next breath, he felt a surge of relief, his face lighting up with a smile. "That's lucky, that's lucky! We didn't mention anything incriminating, and we actually spent money buying something, so we haven't really offended anyone, right?"

............................... Thank you to book friend "Kai Xin Luoba" for the tip, and to Bored Idle Person for the three receivable update votes. Finally, continuing to ask for collections and recommendations. C