19: Chapter 19 The Blue and White Shocked Everyone

Boss Wang quickly adjusted his emotions. In those small eyes, originally murky like stagnant water, a cold, sinister light suddenly shot out. He fixed his gaze on Old Zhou, like a venomous snake lurking in the grass, ready to strike, flicking its tongue as it prepared for a fatal blow.

The corners of his mouth forced an unyielding arc, a fake smile plastered on his face. The muscles in his face twitched stiffly, and his voice sounded sinister, as if squeezed through his teeth: "Old Zhou, your eye for antiques is truly formidable. Your profound analysis just now is truly admirable. Ginger is indeed spicier when it's old; one has to admit it. However..." He changed the subject, drawing out the end of his sentence with a sarcastic tone. Every word was like a poison-tipped needle, attempting to pierce through Old Zhou's calm facade. "I am quite curious, just how good can that 'mysterious' collection you brought with such fanfare today be? Surely it won't be the same kind of 'genuine' junk, making us open our eyes again? Don't let it be another fake; that would be quite the spectacle, haha!"

The desire for revenge in these words was undisguised. It was clear he wanted to take this opportunity to recover the ground he had just lost, even attempting a counterattack to muddy the waters and make Old Zhou taste the bitterness of misjudging an item.

Many people around them held their breath, their gazes shifting between the two. The air was filled with an excitement and tension like the calm before a storm, so oppressive it made it hard to breathe.

They waited to see how this drama would end: would Old Zhou continue to slap faces and create a legend, or would Boss Wang make a comeback and ruin Old Zhou's reputation in his twilight years?

Hearing Boss Wang's provocation, Old Zhou only smiled indifferently. That smile was like an ancient well without ripples—deep, calm, and displaying the demeanor of a grandmaster, as if he had long been confident of victory.

He turned his head and nodded gently at Hu Tian, who was sitting in the back row. His eyes held trust, encouragement, and a hint of undisguised anticipation, as if saying: "Go on, let them see what a real treasure is."

Hu Tian understood immediately. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and stood up from the crowd, holding the tightly wrapped wooden box.

He walked to the front stage with steady, composed steps. Every step was solid and powerful, as if he were not stepping on the floor, but on stairs leading to the peak.

Everyone's eyes turned toward this young man. Many were muttering in their hearts: Who is this kid?

He looks unfamiliar and so young; how is he qualified to come to this occasion with Old Zhou?

Could he really be a new apprentice of Old Zhou?

What kind of treasure is he holding, to dare to go on stage at this time?

If he can't produce something impressive, Old Zhou's lifelong reputation will truly be ruined.

Li Wenbo was also a bit surprised. He pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, a flash of doubt crossing behind the lenses. However, he quickly adjusted his expression and nodded politely at Hu Tian, a hint of curiosity and scrutiny flashing in his eyes.

Hu Tian walked to the display stand and gently placed the box down, his movements so soft as if afraid of disturbing something.

Then, he slowly opened the lid.

The box was lined with thick, custom-made velvet, wrapping a piece of porcelain in layers, as if protecting a sleeping beauty from a thousand years ago—mysterious and noble.

Hu Tian carefully peeled back the velvet layer by layer. His movements were gentle and steady; his fingertips didn't even dare to apply pressure, clearly treasuring this object immensely, fearing to disturb its thousand-year dream.

"Come on, let me show you what a real Northern Song Jingdezhen official kiln piece is."

Hu Tian muttered in his heart, a confident arc forming at the corner of his mouth.

When the last layer of velvet was removed, a plum vase appeared before everyone's eyes.

In an instant, it was as if a stream of light pierced through the dimness of the exhibition hall, and the entire space brightened slightly.

The body of the vase was slender and graceful, with lines as smooth as a young girl's waist. It had a small mouth, a long neck, sloping shoulders, and a full belly. The shape was regulated to the extreme—not an ounce of fat, not a hint of thinness.

The entire body was covered in a Qingbai glaze, as lustrous and moist as jade. It was white with a hint of blue, and blue with a hint of white. Under the spotlight, it emitted a faint, intoxicating lake-green light, like a pool of solidified clear water, or the sky just after a rain.

The vase was painted with lotus scroll patterns. The layout of the decoration was sparse and dense in perfect harmony, the lines winding and smooth, the carving sharp yet rounded. Every stroke revealed the ingenuity of the Song Dynasty craftsmen.

It possessed both the dignity and grandeur of the Northern Song period and a refined, ethereal charm, as if one could smell the lotus fragrance from the Jiangnan kiln fires a thousand years ago, refreshing the heart and soul.

Hu Tian held the bottom of the plum vase with both hands and placed it steadily in the center of the display stand.

Throughout the process, his movements were consistently steady and professional, flowing like water. One could tell at a glance that he was an expert who knew his stuff, not some amateur.

As soon as the plum vase was exhibited, the entire noisy exhibition hall suddenly fell silent. One could hear a pin drop; even breathing was audible.

Those who were originally whispering and gossiping all held their breath, their eyes wide open, staring at the plum vase without blinking, afraid of missing any detail.

Even those who didn't understand antiques well could feel the extraordinary, soul-stirring aura radiating from the object through its jade-like glaze and exquisite patterns—a beauty spanning a thousand years that struck the soul directly.

Li Wenbo stood up almost subconsciously and walked quickly to the display stand, his steps slightly staggering, almost tripping.

He stared intently at the plum vase, an unprecedented look of astonishment flashing in his eyes. His pupils dilated slightly, and his breathing became rapid.

"This... this is..."

His voice was trembling, as if he had seen some incredible miracle. He stammered, "Northern Song... Jingdezhen official kiln?! This glaze, this quality... My God!"

The few appraisers also gathered around one after another. Some couldn't wait to take out high-magnification magnifying glasses, while others even pulled out high-intensity flashlights, wishing they could press their eyes against the bottle.

They wanted to observe this object at close range, fearing to miss any detail. Their expressions were as focused as if on a pilgrimage, their faces full of fanaticism and awe.

Boss Wang had been holding a teacup, sitting steadily in his seat, ready to watch a joke, a mocking smile still hanging on his lips.

However, the moment his peripheral vision caught a glimpse of the plum vase, his movements froze abruptly. The teacup tilted, and the scalding tea almost spilled out, burning the back of his hand, but he didn't even notice, as if he had lost the sense of pain.

He quickly put down the teacup, not bothering to wipe it, and rushed to the display stand, his heels making a harsh sound against the floor.

Those small eyes, usually adept at calculation, were now fixed on the plum vase. He even forgot to twitch his signature goatee. He was like someone who had been frozen in place, petrified on the spot.

"This... this glaze..."

Boss Wang's voice was filled with undisguised shock, even carrying a hint of fear. His voice was dry and hoarse: "Qingbai glaze, warm and translucent, green in the pooled glaze, the fluidity of the lotus scroll pattern, the perfect proportions of the shape... This is absolutely a genuine Northern Song piece! And it's the best of the best among official kilns! Impossible, how is this possible!"

He subconsciously wanted to reach out and touch it to feel that legendary jade-like texture, but stopped himself abruptly, fearing that his hands, stained with the stench of copper, would soil this treasure.

He turned to take out the high-magnification magnifying glass he carried with him and leaned in to observe. His focused expression showed he wished he could see through the entire plum vase to find a tiny flaw to comfort his shattered heart, but the more he looked, the colder his heart became.

The surrounding collectors also gathered around one after another. The discussion gradually heated up, finally converging into an ocean of exclamations.

"Good stuff! This quality is Museum-level! It's even more perfect than the one in the Museum!"

"Look at the glass texture of this glaze, and the craftsmanship of the base trimming. That's the classic Northern Song 'knife-cut foot.' It's absolutely the best of the best among Jingdezhen official kiln pieces!"

"If this thing were auctioned, a conservative estimate would start at tens of millions! It might even exceed a hundred million! My God, it's worth it to see it once in this lifetime!"

"My God, such a treasure actually appeared here. I've opened my eyes today. What kind of garbage was I looking at before?"

Praises echoed one after another. The atmosphere in the exhibition hall was instantly ignited. Everyone's eyes were focused on the plum vase, as if it were the only thing in the world, and everything else became a background board.

Boss Wang's face changed repeatedly—blue, then white, and finally flushed to a liver color, looking extremely ugly.

He stared at the plum vase for a long time. The jealousy in his eyes surged like a venomous snake, almost spitting fire.

Finally, he squeezed out a sentence, his voice dry and hoarse, as if he had swallowed sand: "Boss Zhou, this thing... where did you get it? How much did you spend?"

His tone was filled with unwillingness, as well as undisguised envy, jealousy, and hatred. The sourness was almost overflowing the screen, making one feel nauseous.

He was unwilling to accept it. He had brought a fake and was slapped in the face, losing all his dignity, while the other party brought a national treasure-level authentic piece to crush the whole scene. This contrast was too tragic; it was like having his face pressed into the ground and rubbed!

Old Zhou smiled faintly and pointed at Hu Tian with a relaxed gesture, his tone carrying a hint of pride: "This is Hu Tian. This plum vase is what he picked up a few days ago."

"Picked up?!"

Boss Wang's voice suddenly rose an octave. His goatee stood up with it, and his eyeballs almost popped out of their sockets, his face full of disbelief: "This... this is also called picking up? This is a priceless national treasure! Are you kidding me?"

Hu Tian nodded calmly, a humble smile on his face, but inwardly he was secretly pleased: "Of course it's called picking up. Five hundred yuan exchanged for twenty million, if this isn't picking up, what is? With the system in hand, the world is mine."

He said aloud: "It was indeed picking up. I encountered it at a small stall in the antique market a few days ago. The seller didn't know what he had and sold it as ordinary old porcelain, so I just picked it up."

The tone he spoke in was very casual and understated, as if he hadn't bought a treasure worth tens of millions, but a head of cabbage. This calm attitude made Boss Wang feel a suffocating sense of frustration, his heart feeling as if it were being tightly gripped by a giant hand.

The corners of Boss Wang's mouth twitched violently a few times. The aggressive momentum from just a moment ago vanished instantly. His whole person seemed to have his spine removed, losing his spirit, his back hunched.

His two attendants also froze. The mocking expressions on their faces had long disappeared, replaced by astonishment and awe. The looks they gave Hu Tian were full of complex emotions.

"Good... very good!"

Boss Wang held it in for a long time, only squeezing out this pale, powerless sentence, his voice trembling.

Immediately, as if he couldn't stay any longer, he flicked his sleeves and turned around, leaving in a hurry with his two attendants. His retreating figure looked somewhat embarrassed and panicked, as if there were a flood or wild beast chasing him, fearing that staying one more second would cause him to collapse.

Zhou Waner covered her mouth and giggled on the side, her eyes curved like crescent moons. She whispered to Hu Tian: "Brother Hu Tian, look at Old Wang's face, it's more bitter than eating bitter herbs! He was so arrogant just now, and now he's running away with his tail between his legs. It's so satisfying! Haha, I really want to set off firecrackers to celebrate!"

The poem says:

Beyond the rain, the clouds break open, a thousand years of kiln fire condense into cold jade.

Once revealed, it shocks mortal eyes, all the gentry in the room bow in submission.