Chapter 212: Taking You to See a Big Fool

With a "pop," the candle flame crackled. Red tears snaked down, congealing into strange shapes.

The setting sun cut through the door crack, illuminating floating incense ash. Blue smoke curled upward, and a faint fragrance lingered in the nostrils.

The Daoist appeared calm and composed, but his heart could not stop pounding.

What is the concept of one million?

For an ordinary person, it would take a hundred years of work without eating or drinking.

To tell the truth, the Daoist had no intention of selling this Incense Burner at all; it was just talk leading to more talk, and since Lin Sicheng happened to mention it, he just happened to drop a hint:

"Young man, look, if you want to request a Talisman, you only need to offer incense for a year, which is only sixty thousand. But if you want to request a Dharma Artifact, you need to offer incense for three years, and even at the lowest, it would be over a million."

Which is more, which is less?

Even the so-called sixty thousand was just a means for the old Daoist to test the waters. According to his plan, if he could swindle twenty or thirty thousand, it would be the Daoist Ancestor manifesting. If he could swindle ten thousand or eight thousand, he would have to offer high incense to the three Ancestral Masters regardless.

Lin Sicheng, on the other hand, opened his mouth and said "I'll take it"... Young man, did you hear clearly, this is one million?

Secretly turning his thoughts, the Daoist's eyes flickered, and he quickly sized them up again.

Two men and three women; apart from that big black guy, the other four should come from decent backgrounds.

Especially the two in the middle; their temperament is good, their speech is good, and their cultivation is even better. Every smile, every word, exudes nobility.

Conversely, in 2008, what kind of family could take out one million without blinking?

Then the question arises: since they are from extraordinary backgrounds, have seen the world, and are smart people, what kind of psychology would make them willingly let themselves be swindled out of one million?

It couldn't be that they were truly bluffed by him, could it?

Bullshit, even a fool knows that's impossible: this is one million, not one hundred.

Just looking at the expressions of the three people next to them, one can tell how unbelievable this matter is.

Since they are so shocked, why didn't anyone advise or remind him?

The more the Daoist thought about it, the more he felt something was wrong; he glanced at Lin Sicheng, then looked at the Incense Burner by his hand.

Suddenly, a light flashed in his mind: nine times out of ten, this kid's divination is fake, and coveting his precious burner is the truth.

Although the old Daoist is crooked, he didn't lie about one thing: this item is indeed a Dharma Artifact left behind by the founder of his sect, passed down for a full two hundred years—a genuine antique.

Is the item good?

Of course it is good; the shape is ancient and simple, the patterns are serene, and the whole body is inlaid with gold.

It's not just one or two people who know about this thing; Believers who come by reputation, sincerely seeking the treasure, are endless.

There are even professional institutions: Zhouzhi Loutai Temple, Baoji Longmen Cave, Huayin Yuquan Temple, and even Xijing Dongyue Temple and Baxian Palace.

Especially the latter two; they are both Daoist temples and cultural and museum departments of a Daoist nature. Baxian Palace itself is the second-largest antique market in Xijing, and there are a bunch of people who know the trade.

Dongwang Temple is a proper folk cultural relics Museum, full of Experts inside.

With so many insiders, even the most professional Dongyue Temple, which offered the highest price, only offered three hundred thousand.

And this kid opened his mouth and more than tripled it.

Did he misjudge?

Don't say that; looking at his face, he is only in his early twenties. Even if he is knowledgeable, how much discernment can he have?

After pondering for a long while, the Daoist put down the Incense Burner and said nothing, just staring at Lin Sicheng.

But it was useless; as long as Lin Sicheng didn't want him to see, he couldn't see a single hair.

After a long silence, the Daoist sighed: "Lay Buddhist, let's be honest, did you take a fancy to this burner of mine?"

Haha, not pretending anymore?

Lin Sicheng smiled: "I won't hide it from you, Daoist Priest, the Divination is real, and seeking the treasure is also real!"

The Daoist was stunned for a moment and bared his teeth as if he had a toothache: As expected?

If you go to Longhu Mountain or Chongyang Palace to seek a Spirit Tool that has been bathed in incense and blessed by the chanting of generations of High Merit, how much Merit would you have to offer?

At most two or three hundred thousand.

Look at the three Ancestral Masters in the shrine again; even if the old Daoist closed his eyes and went against his conscience, he couldn't say things like "each has its own merits" or "they are on par."

So, what the hell kind of divination are you seeking?

This brat was aiming for his precious burner, and he had been pretending to play along with his act for half a day?

But is it strange?

From beginning to end, the Daoist didn't see a single flaw. If the price of one million hadn't been so high, he wouldn't have been suspicious.

So, is he selling or not?

Whoever doesn't sell is a fool.

The price he offered to Dongwang Temple was only five hundred thousand...

Suddenly, the Daoist's heart began to throb: "Sell, but we must sign a Contract!"

Oh, quite knowledgeable?

Lin Sicheng nodded: "Daoist Priest, has anyone asked about this precious burner?"

The old Daoist shook his head like a rattle-drum: "No!"

It would be strange if there weren't.

There aren't too many people in the Xijing area who know the trade, but there aren't few either. With the old Daoist's showy style, acting as a master at the door with an Incense Burner every day, he would eventually run into someone who knows.

Since he ran into one, he would definitely ask and take a look; what if he picked up a bargain?

So, the old Daoist probably has an idea in his heart...

Lin Sicheng didn't expose him and stood up: "The bank is closed now, so it will have to wait until tomorrow. Let's find a larger branch nearby; at that time, we will transfer the money and sign the Contract at the same time!"

The old Daoist still couldn't quite believe it: "Is that a deal?"

"Of course!"

Lin Sicheng smiled: "Daoist Priest, see you tomorrow!"

The Daoist hurriedly stood up and followed them out, step by step. After exchanging a few polite words, he watched the five people get into two cars.

One Mercedes-Benz, one Jeep Grand Cherokee; sure enough, none of them were short on money.

The two cars, one following the other, drove out of the park square.

Gu Ming gripped the steering wheel, staring at the taillights of the Jeep Grand Cherokee, occasionally gritting his teeth, occasionally baring them.

He muttered to himself: "I always said Lin Sicheng never believed in this stuff since he was a kid, so how did he coax me into getting a fortune told? Turns out, he had his eye on that Incense Burner of the Daoist's?"

"That dog, coaxing me to step on a landmine for him again..."

In the back seat, Zhuang Yi realized belatedly: "That Incense Burner, was it actually an antique?"

"Setting aside whether it's real or fake, he offered a million right off the bat?"

Her family ran a jewelry store; they weren't exactly super-rich, but they weren't poor either. But even her father would have to hesitate over a million.

Subconsciously, the image of Lin Sicheng surfaced in her mind: calm and collected, composed and relaxed...

For a moment, Zhuang Yi felt anxious and conflicted.

The old Daoist was feeling just as anxious and conflicted.

Once the cars drove out of the parking lot, he went back inside. Then he stared at the Incense Burner on the desk, looking at it for a full half-hour.

Having studied Physiognomy for half his life and read people for half his life, the Daoist was confident he hadn't misjudged: that young man wasn't just ordinarily confident; he was certain he would definitely sell, and even more certain that this item was absolutely worth the price.

But one million—just thinking about it made his heart tremble.

And then again, so many experts had looked at it; it was possible for one to misjudge, but impossible for seven or eight of them to all be wrong, right?

Although he thought this in his heart, the old Daoist still felt uneasy. He took out his phone, scrolled through it, found a number, and dialed.

It rang twice before being answered, and a middle-aged man's voice came through: "Daoist Jing, Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year, Museum Curator Wan!"

After exchanging a few pleasantries, the Daoist laughed: "Nothing else, just wanted to let Museum Curator Wan know: that Incense Burner has been sold, so I'm afraid I have to apologize regarding the loan for the exhibition."

"Sold?" the man asked in a tone of great surprise, "Daoist Jing, how much did it sell for?"

"One million and ninety-five thousand!"

"Impossible!"

"I also think it's impossible!" the Daoist sighed, "But the buyer said he can pay and sign the Contract tomorrow!"

As if stunned, there was no sound on the phone for a long time.

That Incense Burner was indeed an antique, but three or four hundred thousand was the absolute limit. Suddenly, someone offered over a million?

Surely this person wasn't just pulling Daoist Jing's leg?

After a long silence, Museum Curator Wan offered a reminder: "Daoist Jing, don't get scammed, will you?"

"That's what I thought too, so I wanted to ask Museum Curator Wan for a favor: could you invite an expert to accompany me tomorrow? I'll cover the costs..."

Daoist Jing was a Daoist registered with the provincial Bureau of Religious Affairs and had quite a reputation in the industry; Dongwang Temple asked for his help from time to time, so this favor definitely had to be granted.

"Fine, I'll make the calls now and accompany you tomorrow!"

"Thank you, Museum Curator Wan!"

"You're too polite, Daoist Jing!"

After hanging up, Museum Curator Wan still felt something wasn't quite right about this.

Daoist Jing had been hunting geese his whole life; he shouldn't let a sparrow peck his eyes out, right?

No, he couldn't just invite an expert; he had to invite someone with some real influence.

After thinking for a good while, Museum Curator Wan found a number and dialed: "Secretary-General Hao, do you have time tomorrow..."

"Yes, the one you looked at last time; the buyer offered one million and ninety-five thousand!"

"Ah, why such an odd number? I don't know either... Alright, Secretary Hao, then it's settled..."

Saving Daoist Jing's number, Hao Jun hung up the phone with a strange expression: something worth at most three hundred thousand, and someone spent a million?

Where did such a big fool pop out from?

Just as he was grumbling, Guan Xingmin's voice came from the private room: "Old Hao, did you fall into the latrine?"

"Coming, coming..."

Hao Jun put away his phone and left the restroom.

With it constantly on his mind, Hao Jun didn't dare drink too much and left the party around nine o'clock.

He went to bed early and got up bright and early the next day.

He started the ignition and was just warming up the car when Daoist Jing's call came through: "Secretary-General Hao, it's all set for nine o'clock sharp, at the Industrial and Commercial Bank next to the university... Ah, good, sorry to trouble you!"

Hanging up, Hao Jun's thoughts turned again: It's the Lantern Festival today, Old Guan definitely wouldn't dare slip away, but Lin Sicheng should have time.

He even pulled up his phone book, but then he paused: Forget it, the kid is usually so busy, and it's hard enough to get a holiday; no need to drag him into this mess.

He tossed his phone aside and shifted gears. About half an hour later, he drove slowly to the university.

It was still early before nine, but drums were already beating in the square of Xingqing Palace, and waves of pedestrians were pouring in.

Hao Jun glanced over and locked his car.

Turning around, he squinted as he looked around for the Industrial and Commercial Bank.

Not far away, twenty or thirty meters across, a Beijing-plated Mercedes-Benz was parked in front of a breakfast shop.

He didn't remember clearly, just had a vague impression: Zhao Xiuneng's car had Beijing plates, and the last digit was an "8"?

He took a couple of looks; there didn't seem to be anyone in the car, so Hao Jun walked over. Just as he reached the entrance of the breakfast shop, Hao Jun froze again.

Just entering the door of the breakfast shop, Lin Sicheng had his back to him, and opposite him were Zhao Xiuneng and Zhao Da. The steamer baskets on the table were stacked high, and the three of them were huddled together, eating noisily.

How could it be such a coincidence?

He snuck over quietly, and just as he was about to give Lin Sicheng a scare, Zhao Xiuneng raised his head.

"Huh, Secretary-General Hao?"

"Talk of the devil, and he appears?"

Hao Jun smiled broadly and sat down next to Lin Sicheng, "When I left the house this morning, I was wondering whether I should give you a call."

Lin Sicheng picked up his chopsticks and had Zhao Da order a bowl of porridge for Hao Jun, "So happy, did you find a bargain?"

"If I found a bargain, how could I not call you?" Hao Jun looked curious, "I ran into someone buying an Incense Burner for one million, and I was thinking whether I should call you to come watch the show..."

Lin Sicheng had just picked up a steamed bun with his chopsticks and froze in mid-air.

"Buying what?"

"An Incense Burner!"

"It was quite old, passed down for at least two hundred years, but it was just for burning incense in a Daoist temple; it had no provenance and no history, so three hundred thousand was the absolute limit. But the old Daoist Priest Jing kept insisting on five hundred thousand and wouldn't budge, so it stayed at a stalemate..."

"But last night, Museum Curator Wan suddenly called me and said the burner had been sold, and the transaction was today, for exactly one million ninety-five thousand? Not only was it a specific amount, but it also tripled in price? I thought, where did this big fool pop out from? I had to bring you to see it for yourself..."

Hao Jun sat at his side, not paying much attention, and for a moment, he was spitting as he talked, going on and on.

But as he spoke, he noticed something wasn't right: Zhao Xiuneng was holding his chopsticks, staring straight at him.

Zhao Da stood by the table holding a bowl of porridge, his face twisted as if he wanted to dump that bowl of porridge on Hao Jun's face.

Hao Jun realized it belatedly, gave a start, turned his head, and stared straight at Lin Sicheng.

"That's right!" Lin Sicheng bit into half a steamed bun, "Senior Brother Hao, that big fool you're talking about is me..."

With a "ha," the muscles on Hao Jun's face twitched.

He wished he could slap himself across the face: he had just said it, why was it such a coincidence?

After a long while, he gave a sheepish smile: had coincidence really opened the door for coincidence?

Afterwards, Hao Jun lowered his voice: "But that's not right, many people have seen that burner, and they all said it was only worth two or three hundred thousand... is there something fishy about it?"

Lin Sicheng sighed: "Senior Brother Hao, the Daoist Priest spent the money!"

Hao Jun made a "tsk" sound: "I'm not here for an appraisal, I'm just acting as a middleman, serving as a witness!"

Lin Sicheng still shook his head: "It's just a Qing Dynasty Daoist Incense Burner!"

Impossible.

Knowing him for so long, the bargains Lin Sicheng had found and the good items he had collected were countless, but which one had ever exceeded one million?

He was dying of curiosity, but after thinking about it, Hao Jun closed his mouth again.

Lin Sicheng wouldn't hide anything from him, but to be honest, his current status was indeed a bit inappropriate.

What's more, this place wasn't suitable either.

Just as he was turning the thought over, his phone rang again: "Secretary-General Hao, I'm at the Industrial and Commercial Bank!"

"Alright, I'll be there right away!"

Hanging up the phone, he stuffed two steamed buns in and drank half a bowl of porridge, then Hao Jun stood up: "Remember, act like you don't know each other later..."

"Senior Brother Hao, what are you in such a rush for?"

Hao Jun chewed on a steamed bun and mumbled: "Nonsense, what if something goes wrong?"

Acting as a middleman, at most he'd make ten thousand or so, and Hao Jun certainly didn't care about that little bit. He was afraid of running into the old Daoist Priest and ruining Lin Sicheng's business.

Just as he finished speaking, Lin Sicheng pulled him back: "There's no need for that, eat in peace, we'll go over together in a bit."

Hao Jun was stunned for a moment, then sat back down: That's true!

It wasn't like they were thieves; with the red bills laid out on the table, could Daoist Priest Jing really refuse to sell?

(End of this chapter)