67: Chapter 67 Seeking Insights in the Old Street
The meal lasted nearly an hour.
Liu Yanran only touched a few chopsticks of each dish—she bit halfway through a shrimp dumpling, tore off a small strip of squab, and put down the fish maw soup after only two sips.
However, for the Typhoon Shelter King Crab, she shelled a few pieces of meat and piled them all onto the plate in front of Qiao Yichen.
Qiao Yichen looked at the pile of crab meat on the plate, then looked up at her: "You aren't eating any?"
"I'm full," Liu Yanran picked up a Mango Pomelo Sago, scooped a small spoonful into her mouth, and said, "You eat."
Qiao Yichen didn't say anything more and lowered his head, finishing the crab meat piece by piece.
The rain outside had lessened compared to noon, turning into nearly imperceptible wisps of mist that traced fine water streaks on the glass.
It was nearly two o'clock when the two finally stood up to pay the bill at the front desk.
Liu Yanran naturally linked her arm through Qiao Yichen's, leaning her whole body gently against his side.
The waiter printed out the bill. Qiao Yichen glanced at the screen, where the numbers clearly blinked:
Gold Award Squab (2): 76 Yuan
Shrimp Dumpling Emperor (1 basket): 68 Yuan
Fish Maw Stew (2 servings): 396 Yuan
Typhoon Shelter King Crab: 888 Yuan
Mango Pomelo Sago (2 servings): 96 Yuan
Total: 1524 Yuan.
He picked up his phone and lightly scanned the QR code. A few seconds later, a 'Payment Successful' notification popped up on the screen, and his phone vibrated once.
The two walked out of the shop. The mall's air conditioning was sealed behind them, replaced by a cool cross breeze in the corridor.
Qiao Yichen turned his head to look at her: "What do you want to do this afternoon?"
Liu Yanran thought for a moment: "Go hang out at Lin Wei's place. Do you want to come along?"
Qiao Yichen shook his head.
"I want to go check out Renhe Old Street this afternoon." He paused and added, "I made plans with Wang Xiao via WeChat this morning to have Japanese food tonight."
Liu Yanran nodded without asking further questions.
"Then drive me to Lin Wei's place," she said. "Come pick me up after dinner tonight."
Qiao Yichen looked at her and the corner of his mouth curved up.
"Got it, baby."
Liu Yanran's eyelashes fluttered slightly. She didn't reply, but just tightened her grip on his arm.
The two took the elevator down to B3 and got into the car.
The white Audi pulled out of the garage and merged into the Saturday afternoon traffic flow.
Fine threads of rain tapped against the windshield, and the wipers swung back and forth intermittently.
Liu Yanran leaned back in the passenger seat, took out her phone, and made a call.
"Lin Wei, I'm on my way now."
Lin Wei's cheerful voice came from the other end: "Come on, come on! I just told Su Qing, she's coming over too!"
"Mm, see you in a bit."
After hanging up, she put her phone back in her bag and glanced sideways at Qiao Yichen.
Qiao Yichen looked straight ahead, but the corner of his mouth was curved.
"What are you smiling at?"
"Nothing," Qiao Yichen said. "You three have a really good relationship."
Liu Yanran didn't reply, just let out a soft 'Mm.'
Twenty minutes later, the car stopped at the entrance of Lin Wei's residential complex.
The rain was still falling, not heavily, but densely.
As soon as they stopped, they saw a familiar figure running out of the unit door holding an umbrella.
Lin Wei, wearing a loose sweatshirt and jeans with her hair tied up casually, ran to the car. She first bent down to look inside through the passenger side window.
Liu Yanran pushed the door open and got out. Lin Wei immediately held the umbrella over her.
As the two girls stood together, Lin Wei's gaze went past Liu Yanran and landed on Qiao Yichen in the driver's seat.
Qiao Yichen rolled down the window and nodded at her.
"Lin Wei."
"Oh, Mr. Qiao is personally escorting you?" Lin Wei chuckled. "Thanks for your hard work."
"It's my duty," Qiao Yichen smiled too.
Liu Yanran stood under the umbrella and looked back at him.
"Drive safely."
"Mm."
Lin Wei made a face at her from the side, and Liu Yanran nudged her lightly with her elbow.
Qiao Yichen watched the two of them walk toward the unit door sharing one umbrella until their figures disappeared behind the door before looking away.
He shifted the gear again but didn't step on the accelerator immediately. Instead, he picked up his phone and opened the map.
Destination—Renhe Old Street.
The navigation started speaking. He turned on the signal light, and the car slowly pulled out of the complex, merging into the rain-soaked traffic.
...
Half an hour later, Qiao Yichen drove to Renhe Old Street.
The street wasn't long, maybe two or three hundred meters. Both sides were lined with uniform old-style buildings—blue bricks, dark tiles, and wooden doors and windows—which appeared especially tranquil in the rain.
He parked the car in the lot at the entrance of the street, opened his umbrella, and walked into the downpour.
Renhe Old Street was the oldest core area for antique trading in the city, not the type of tourist street selling cultural and creative souvenirs.
The road surface was paved with bluestones, shining from being washed by the rainwater. The storefronts on both sides were not large, but their signs were older than the last—some wooden plaques had faded inscriptions, and some bronze signs showed a dark green patina.
Today was Saturday, which should have featured a weekend street market. But the rain had fallen from morning till night, so the stalls naturally couldn't be set up.
Almost no one could be seen on the entire street, only the sound of rainwater dripping from the eaves, pattering, pattering.
Qiao Yichen stood at the street entrance and watched for a few seconds, then walked straight in.
He chose the first shop.
The facade was small, but it was quite deep inside. One could vaguely see the display shelves lined with bottles and jars.
The sign above the entrance was an old rosewood plaque, engraved with three gilded characters—"Baozhen Pavilion."
Pushing the door open, an antiquated atmosphere rushed toward him—a mixture of wood, paper, and a slight scent of camphor.
There were already three people inside, gathered around an octagonal table, quietly discussing something over a blue-and-white porcelain vase on the table.
A middle-aged man wearing a gray Zhongshan suit was holding a magnifying glass close to the mouth of the vase, while the two people of similar age next to him exchanged opinions in low voices.
Qiao Yichen didn't disturb them. He lightened his footsteps and slowly looked past the display shelves along the wall.
Porcelain, jade, bronze, miscellaneous items... He understood nothing about these things and could only look for amusement.
But the sheer quantity and variety of items unexpectedly piqued his interest—perhaps he could study these things when he had time in the future.
After a few minutes, the three people seemed to have finished their discussion. After exchanging a few pleasantries with the shop owner, they left.
The owner saw the customers out, then turned around.
It was an elderly gentleman with white hair, wearing a dark gray cross-collar shirt. He had reading glasses perched on his nose, the temples connected to a thin string hanging around his neck.
He sized up Qiao Yichen with a glance, then walked over.
"Young man, you've been looking for quite a while. Are you looking to buy something, or do you have something you wish to sell?"
Qiao Yichen bowed slightly to him, his manner respectful.
"Hello, sir. I do indeed have something I wish to sell."
The old gentleman nodded, waiting for him to continue.
"It's a Huanghuali square corner cabinet, inlaid with 'Baibao' (a hundred treasures technique), featuring a flower and bird motif."
After hearing this, a hint of scrutiny appeared in the old gentleman's eyes.
"Huanghuali inlaid with Baibao?" He paused. "Do you have an appraisal report for the piece?"
Qiao Yichen was momentarily stumped.
An appraisal report... That cabinet did have one. The description plate at Auction House clearly stated—accompanied by an appraisal certificate from an authoritative overseas institution, concluding it was a '20th-century reproduction.'
If it weren't for that report, he wouldn't have gotten such a bargain.
He answered honestly: "Sir, this item has only been in my possession for a few days. I haven't had time to get it appraised yet."
Saying that, he took out his phone, flipped to the photos and videos he took after the cabinet was delivered that morning, and handed them over with both hands.
"Please take a look at the item first."
The old gentleman took the phone, removed the reading glasses from his neck and put them on, held the phone a bit further away, and carefully looked through each picture.
The photos were taken very meticulously—the front, the side, the mortise and tenon joints, the edges of the Baibao inlay, and the patina on the bronze fittings. He looked slowly, occasionally zooming in on a specific detail, squinting to examine it for a few seconds.
After viewing the last picture, he handed the phone back to Qiao Yichen and nodded.
"The item appears to be an old piece. The carving and inlay work are all in place," he paused. "But whether it is truly authentic or what era it belongs to can only be determined by handling it. Photos can give a general idea, but they can't show the fine details."
Qiao Yichen listened attentively and did not interrupt.
The old gentleman continued: "If you want to sell it, it's best to first obtain an authoritative appraisal report. We can't reach places like the Palace Museum, but the provincial or municipal cultural relic appraisal institutions, or a few established Auction Houses, can all do it."
He paused, his tone sincere:
"With a report, the value of the item becomes clear. At that time, whether you take it to an Auction House or consign it to a shop like mine, negotiations will be easier. Without a report, even if I wanted to buy it, I wouldn't dare make an offer—if I misjudged, it could mean losing hundreds of thousands."
After listening, Qiao Yichen bowed slightly again.
"I have learned a great deal. Thank you, sir."
The old gentleman waved his hand and said no more.