72: Chapter 72 Listening to the Rain Pavilion

"Look at this condition."

Lin Hao pointed at the incubator, his tone carrying a hint of pride.

"My box is much more advanced than yours. Constant temperature and humidity, plus a UV simulation system that can adjust circadian rhythms. The little guy living here is more comfortable than staying in a hotel."

Jiang Chen walked over and squatted down to watch for a while.

The little guy rolled over from the pile of grass, ran to the transparent partition, stood up on its hind legs, and placed its two front paws on the barrier.

Its ruby-like eyes looked at him, and its nose pressed against the glass, breathing out a small patch of mist.

Jiang Chen reached out his finger and lightly tapped its nose through the glass.

The little guy blinked, then turned and ran away, burrowing into its small wooden nest, leaving only the tip of a fluffy tail exposed.

"Let's go," Lin Hao patted his shoulder, "Let's head upstairs for a bit. I'll show you the preview catalog for this auction."

Jiang Chen stood up, took one last look at the incubator, and followed Lin Hao upstairs.

The stairs were at the back of the studio, made of wrought iron and painted black; they made a slight metallic sound when stepped on.

The upstairs was Lin Hao's private collection area.

The moment he pushed open the door, Jiang Chen's footsteps paused for a second.

The entire second floor was a large, open space of nearly two hundred square meters without any partitions.

Against the walls were rows of custom display cabinets with glass doors and built-in lighting, each housing a different species of exotic pet.

There was an all-golden Mutant Ball Python coiled on a temperature-controlled branch, its scales shimmering with a metallic luster under the lights.

There was a Blue-Tongued Skink lying on a heat stone, its tongue occasionally flicking out; it was a deep blue, like it had been dipped in ink.

There was a Melanistic Serval curled up on a custom cushion, its fur a pure black, with leopard spots only faintly visible under the light.

There was also an Albino Raccoon sleeping in a specially built bionic environment; its fur was snow-white, and the ring patterns on its tail were almost invisible, looking like a scoop of melting ice cream.

Each display cabinet was equipped with an independent temperature control system and monitoring equipment, with labels on the doors noting the species, genotype, date of birth, and origin.

Jiang Chen walked slowly, his gaze sweeping across the cabinets one by one.

He didn't lean in close to look, just stood at a distance, but he could clearly see the quality, coat color, and physique of every animal.

“This Melanistic Serval of yours,” Jiang Chen stopped in front of a cabinet, “was it auctioned from Europe?”

Lin Hao leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his face showing the satisfaction of being recognized by an expert.

“Good eye. Frankfurt Auction, last spring, final price 1.6 million. Its quality is considered top-tier in Europe, but compared to your Bengal cat, it's still a notch below.”

Jiang Chen didn't reply and continued walking forward.

He stopped in front of the innermost cabinet.

Inside the cabinet was a Mutant Chinchilla.

It had blue-gray back fur, white patches distributed across its back and belly, and ruby-like eyes.

Its quality was excellent; it could sell for at least over a million on the market.

But Jiang Chen only took one look before shifting his gaze away.

“What’s wrong?”

Lin Hao walked over. “Is this one's quality not good enough?”

“It's not that it's not good,” Jiang Chen said. “It's just too ‘regular’.”

Lin Hao was stunned for a moment, then laughed: “Too regular! Well said.”

“Indeed, the quality of this chinchilla was bred according to standards. Every white patch is exactly where it should be, and the fur color meets the criteria, but it's just... too regular. It lacks a bit of spirit.”

He paused and looked at Jiang Chen, with something more in his eyes.

“Yours is different. The distribution of white patches on yours is a natural mutation, not produced through human intervention.”

“The transition at the edges, the proportions of the patches, the gradient layers of the fur color—they all carry a kind of... how should I put it, a natural sense of rhythm. This kind of thing can't be bred; you can only rely on luck.”

Jiang Chen didn't speak, just looked at the chinchilla in the cabinet.

It was huddled in a corner, gnawing on a grass stick. Its movements were exactly the same as the little guy's, but its eyes were different.

This chinchilla's eyes were red, but that red was a standard, regulated, textbook red.

Whereas the little guy's eyes were a deep red, like aged wine, showing distinct gradient layers under the light.

From the deep red around the pupil to the light red at the edges, and then that faint, ethereal ring of gold on the iris.

He had never seen that kind of color in any atlas.

“Let's go,” Lin Hao patted his shoulder, “Let's go down and sign the contract.”

The two returned to the workbench on the first floor.

Lin Hao took a contract out of a drawer and pushed it toward Jiang Chen.

“Consignment auction agreement. The commission rate is five percent of the final price. Take a look.”

Jiang Chen took the contract. He didn't rush to read it but first flipped through the page numbers at the bottom to confirm no pages were missing, and only then did he start reading clause by clause from the beginning.

After confirming everything was fine, he flipped to the last page, picked up a pen, and signed his name.

Lin Hao put away the contract and took an envelope out of the drawer, handing it to Jiang Chen.

“This is the auction house's preview catalog. Your chinchilla takes up a whole page. Take it back and look it over; let me know if there's anything you want to change.”

Jiang Chen took it but didn't open it on the spot, placing it into the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Right.”

He took a folded slip of paper from his pocket and pushed it toward Lin Hao. “This is the bank account information. Deduct the commission from the proceeds and transfer the rest to this account.”

Lin Hao took a look and put it in the drawer.

“Alright, the contract is signed, and the little one is settled.”

He stretched and looked at the clock on the wall.

“It's almost twelve. You've come all this way; I can't let you go back on an empty stomach. Come on, I'll take you to try some Lanbei specialties.”

Jiang Chen wanted to decline, but Lin Hao had already grabbed his car keys and, without taking no for an answer, steered him toward the door by the shoulder.

“Don't be polite with me. You haven't been to Lanbei many times, right? I'll show you around this afternoon; you'd just be alone if you went back anyway.”

Jiang Chen thought about it and didn't refuse again.

Lin Hao drove, while Jiang Chen sat in the passenger seat.

Lanbei's urban planning was a bit different from Jiang City's; the streets were wider and the greenery was better.

The plane trees on both sides of the road were mostly yellow, and sunlight filtered through the branches, casting mottled shadows on the ground.

“Lanbei has developed well these past few years, especially the dining scene. There are a few restaurants that rank among the top in the whole province.”

Lin Hao said while driving.

“The place I'm taking you to today does local Benbang Cuisine. The owner is a friend of mine, and the ingredients are all collected from the countryside that very morning.”

The car turned into an old street lined with grey-tiled, blue-brick buildings. The storefronts weren't large, but the signs were each older than the last.

Lin Hao parked the car at the entrance of a small courtyard. The walls were covered in Chinese Trumpet Creeper; most of the flowers had already withered this season, leaving only dense vines and leaves.

“We're here.”

Jiang Chen got out of the car and looked at the plaque above the door.

Three words: 'Tingyuxuan'.

The courtyard wasn't large, paved with bluestone, with several large vats in the corners growing water lilies. Although the flowering period had passed, the leaves were still emerald green.

Several square tables were scattered around the courtyard, separated by bamboo curtains that provided both openness and privacy.

Lin Hao was clearly a regular; the waiter led them directly to the innermost private room.

The private room faced the street, with wood-carved windows that, when pushed open, revealed the pedestrians coming and going on the old street.

“I'll handle the ordering today, don't you worry.”

Lin Hao took the menu, quickly ticked off a string of dishes, then turned to ask Jiang Chen, “What would you like to drink? Alcohol? Tea?”

“Tea is fine.”

“Then a pot of this year's Longjing.”

The dishes arrived one after another.

Braised Longsnout Catfish: the fish was tender and smooth, the sauce thick and perfectly sweet and savory. With one touch of the chopsticks, the meat fell apart and melted in the mouth.

Crab Roe Tofu: the tofu used was Lanbei's local handmade tofu with a rich bean fragrance. The crab roe was freshly extracted, with golden crab fat dotting the snow-white tofu; it was so delicious it made one's eyebrows jump in delight.

Stir-fried Seasonal Vegetables: these were ‘short-leg’ greens collected from the countryside. The leaves were thick, sweet, and crisp; the simple preparation allowed the original flavor of the ingredients to shine through.

There was also a clay pot of Yan Du Xian: salted pork, fresh pork, and bamboo shoots stewed together. The soup was milky white and richly fragrant; one sip warmed the entire body.

“How is it?” Lin Hao placed a piece of fish into Jiang Chen's bowl. “Does it suit your taste?”

“It's good.”

Jiang Chen nodded. “This catfish is prepared authentically.”

Lin Hao laughed. “I knew you were a foodie. Last time I brought a friend from the capital to eat this dish, he insisted the fish was a bit fishy. I thought to myself, he just doesn't know quality.”

“The catfish is all about this original flavor. If it's cleaned too thoroughly, it loses its character.”

The two chatted while they ate, the topics ranging from the exotic pet market to recent auction trends, and from trends to the local customs of Lanbei.

Lin Hao spoke about Lanbei's Old City District, mentioning an old street from the Republican era that was remarkably well-preserved.

Bluestone roads, old-style arcade buildings, and mottled brick walls—walking in felt like traveling back seventy or eighty years.

“If you're free this afternoon, I'll take you for a stroll.”

Lin Hao refilled Jiang Chen's tea.

Jiang Chen picked up his teacup and took a sip, not refusing.