Chapter 478: No Wonder?

The person walked quite a distance away, then turned the street corner.

With Lin Sicheng's figure no longer in sight, Fu Manshu remained motionless, like a statue of a woman waiting for her husband.

Her complexion was uncertain, her gaze flickering between bright and dim.

The Teaching Assistant stood to the side, secretly finding it strange: how many years had it been, and she had never seen the boss wear such a troubled, such a conflicted expression?

The shop assistants and the master had not had much contact with Fu Manshu and did not know why the boss still had to stand here when the person had already walked until they were out of sight. But they only thought about it in their hearts, all quietly waiting.

After a long while, Fu Manshu pinched the space between her eyebrows: "Uncle Li, let's go inside!"

Li Zhiyuan had long since had his soul wandering outside the heavens, and he subconsciously followed behind.

At this moment, his mind was tangled with loose threads, numerous and messy; let alone sorting them out, he didn't even know where the starting point was.

That the shop assistants would offend people, Li Zhiyuan found not at all strange: this was a matter of time. As long as Fu Manshu kept going on like this, she would keep offending people incessantly.

That she would offend big shots, he was also not surprised: that time in November, they had kicked an iron plate. He had to lower his old face, beg several old patrons to pull strings, and Fu Manshu also had to use several connections and pay a heavy price before the matter was resolved.

Therefore, when they couldn't find the background of these people earlier, she and Fu Manshu were indeed worried, but it hadn't reached the point of being an emergency. Because the situation wasn't necessarily that serious; at most, it could be considered as having caused the other party to lose face, which was nothing more than offering an apology and spending money to avert disaster: lower one's posture, prepare a thicker gift. If one hundred thousand wouldn't do, then five hundred thousand; if five hundred thousand wouldn't do, then one million. The matter could always be resolved.

What surprised Li Zhiyuan was: among the people offended, there was actually an insider mixed in?

The problem was, he couldn't distinguish for the moment which trade they were an insider of. Grave-robbing, buying goods, selling goods, or perhaps the one running the operation? But no matter which trade it was, it shouldn't be enough to make Yao Qiming keep his mouth shut, let alone make those old friends keep their lips sealed.

Unless, they were involved in officialdom?

Those in officialdom couldn't be this young; they could only be the descendants of the family. But to be honest, whose young master's brain would be rusted: which trade doesn't make money faster than this, and you go into the Antique Trade?

But those hands could not deceive: this person definitely had put in a great deal of hard work.

This was the first point; the second was the attitude of this group of people.

Since they had offended them, they had to draw a line, just like the one offended in November, whose words were very short, just three characters: "Close down."

It was indeed very frightening, but the other party at least had an attitude, had a purpose. They could also prescribe the right medicine, at least knowing what method to use to solve it. But these few people today just came and took a turn like this, saying how many fakes were in your shop, how many imitations there were, and then left just like that? It was like they were greeting them: this time, you wait to be closed down too. According to the normal routine, the next step might be the Industry and Commerce or Cultural Relics departments coming to the door, the triple threat of fines, suspension, and sealing the shop.

But Li Zhiyuan felt it didn't quite look like that, because the expression of that young man who looked very much like an insider was wrong: he always felt that when he left, his face carried a few traces of pity, and the bottom of his eyes revealed a few traces of mockery.

What was there to pity, what was there to mock? It couldn't really be as he said: the shop was full of imitations?

But that was impossible; even joking wouldn't go that far.

And those last few sentences of his: twenty-year Yin-Yang stakes?

Could it be that he and the old Manager had been deceived for twenty years?

This was even more ridiculous: twenty years is a concept?

Who could achieve that, Li Zhiyuan dared to cut his own head off.

The more he thought, the messier it got, and the tangled ball in his mind grew tighter.

The shop returned to being cold and cheerless; in the hall of several hundred square meters, there were only a few scattered shop assistants.

Fu Manshu was in front, Li Zhiyuan followed blankly behind, and they entered the office.

The General Manager wanted to come and make tea, but Fu Manshu waved her hand and chased the person out.

The two were separated by the desk, one with an uncertain complexion, the other frowning and thinking bitterly.

After a long while, Fu Manshu spoke slowly: "Uncle Li, what did that person mean?"

Li Zhiyuan opened his mouth, but the three words "I don't know" reached his lips and were swallowed back down.

The first time she asked, he could still treat it as Fu Manshu being curious, but if he answered like that the second time, it would be blatant perfunctoriness.

Even if Li Zhiyuan dared to do so, he wouldn't.

Because Fu Manshu was truly not as simple as she appeared on the surface.

"I'm still thinking!" Li Zhiyuan sighed and pinched the space between his eyebrows again, "But I feel like he seems to be hinting: we have been deceived?" Fu Manshu's gaze dimmed: it could be seen that Li Zhiyuan was indeed somewhat confused. But it wasn't his fault; that person was acting all mysterious, and no matter how you looked at it, it seemed like alarmist talk; no one would believe it.

While pondering, she tapped the table: "Uncle Li, is that person a grave-robber?"

Li Zhiyuan paused slightly, then shook his head: impossible.

No grave-robber could be so arrogant to this extent, making the leader of the department in charge of Cultural Relics not even dare to say what his surname was?

He must be the descendant of some family; one had to investigate, but how to investigate?

Yao Qiming clearly wouldn't help, and those he usually greased the palms of didn't even dare to leak a word. For the moment, through what other channels could he go? While he was thinking, Fu Manshu stood up, took her phone, and walked to the side: "Uncle Li, you think again, what other friends can help, I will also think of a way. At least, we must know who these people are..."

Li Zhiyuan nodded.

The "friends" Fu Manshu spoke of were naturally the connections inherited from the Old Chairman. But to be honest, before this, he had already contacted everyone he could. Those who didn't want to help were a waste of time to ask, and those who could help would definitely help; chasing them too closely was actually bad, so he could only wait for news.

And what Fu Manshu was preparing to ask were her own channels: the connections she had managed herself.

Before, even he didn't know that Fu Manshu's friends had such significant influence.

Not until the incident in November.

Subconsciously, Li Zhiyuan thought of the past again: when the Old Chairman was still around, she would occasionally come to the shop, and every time she came, she was amiable and full of smiles.

Including at home, she was also a simple and kind person, pure and not wild. After a while, many people felt that Miss Fu was very amiable, easy to talk to, and didn't have so many schemes.

There were also many people who thought that Fu Manshu being able to be the exclusive agent for luxury goods was entirely due to the Old Chairman's money and connections, and that she was at most a vase placed on display.

This statement wasn't entirely wrong: at least the Startup Capital was fully sponsored by the Chairman. It was also the Old Chairman who built the bridge and made the connection to the upstream agent. Yet no one ever thought deeply: no matter how many connections the Chairman had, it was impossible to force customers into Fu Manshu's shop. Guangzhou is so big, and it's not like Fu Manshu is the only one selling luxury goods. If you can't buy Hermès, can't you buy Chanel, can't you buy Louis Vuitton?

But Fu Manshu's business grew bigger year by year, and the profits grew higher year by year?

The more profitable the business, the more people are jealous; if Fu Manshu didn't have the ability and didn't have some skill, she would have been pushed out long ago.

If she were really as simple as she usually appeared, having three chairmen protecting her would be useless; she would have been swallowed up by her two stepmothers and several step-siblings until not even bones were left.

The result was just the opposite: those who tripped her up and used underhanded tricks became fewer year by year, fewer year by year...

Therefore, among the seven sons and five daughters in the family, including the illegitimate ones, Li Zhiyuan was not at all surprised that the Chairman handed over the main business to Fu Manshu before he passed away.

Because Fu Manshu truly had the ability.

For this reason, he had been unable to figure it out all these days: Fu Manshu had the brains, the schemes, and the connections; why, when she had a perfectly good business to run and perfectly good money to make, did she have to take that set of selling luxury goods and rigidly apply it to Nanmu Wood Wood Studio?

Until today...

Instinctively, a flash of light crossed Li Zhiyuan's mind, like a thread emerging from the messy, unordered ball, waving at him from afar.

But no matter how he tried, he couldn't grasp it; it was faint and indistinct, as if it were there and yet not...

Just as he was scratching his head in frustration, Fu Manshu returned and sat down opposite him.

Li Zhiyuan's train of thought was interrupted, and that sliver of an idea vanished without a trace.

He sighed wistfully and steadied himself: "Boss, how did the inquiry go?"

"They said to wait for news!" Fu Manshu replied, picking up the teapot. "Uncle Li, there's no need to be too panicked; things might not be as bad as we imagine."

Panic was not the word for it.

The shop had been open for over twenty years, and the money the Old Chairman had poured out had long since reached an astronomical figure; it was impossible that it wouldn't be of any use at all.

What's more, there were so many regular customers. If they were really pushed to the edge, he could swallow his pride and go beg them one by one; if he could get them to put in a word, it would certainly have some effect.

As the saying goes, there is strength in numbers.

It was just that his mind was a bit chaotic; he couldn't figure out the background of that group, and for a moment, he didn't know how to resolve this matter. There is a good saying: death is not scary; what is scary is the unknown.

While he pondered, Fu Manshu patiently brewed the tea: warming the pot, warming the Bowl, putting in the leaves, pouring the water, high pouring, scraping the foam, maintaining the temperature, low pouring, and distributing the tea... The entire sequence of movements was like flowing clouds and running water, a delight to behold.

The tea cup was handed over, and Li Zhiyuan said thank you as he took it into his hands.

Just as he took a sip, he suddenly felt something was wrong: at a time like this, how could Fu Manshu be in the mood to perform tea art?

Over these many years, Fu Manshu had weathered many great Wind and waves; she certainly wouldn't be afraid, and even less would she be anxious. But at the very least, shouldn't she be a little worried or concerned?

Concerned about what kind of methods that group from earlier might use, or whether it would be like last time and require another massive financial loss?

But what was strange was that Li Zhiyuan couldn't see a trace of worry or a hint of heartache on Fu Manshu.

To tell the truth: no matter how much money there was, it couldn't withstand such squandering...

His heart stirred, and Li Zhiyuan stared intently at Fu Manshu: "Boss, do you know something?"

Fu Manshu paused slightly and put down the teapot.

Immediately, a bitter smile appeared on her face: "Uncle Li, if even you don't know, what could I possibly know?"

Not right... this expression, this tone?

Li Zhiyuan's eyelids twitched; that sliver of an idea that had been interrupted earlier surfaced once more.

He finally realized what it was: Fu Manshu was too calm?

It wasn't just now, but also last time: it is no exaggeration to say that, back then, Nanmu Wood Wood Studio was truly one step away from closing down. But Fu Manshu was likewise not anxious: unhurried and composed, methodical and step-by-step, she made the necessary requests and gave the necessary gifts.