Chapter 620: Wait to Eat Shit (Bonus Chapter)

Zheng Shanghui realized belatedly: Could this bastard be doing it on purpose?

If Jiang Cheng hadn't driven up the price, he could have bought both portraits for the price of one.

But with the finish line so close, should he just give up?

He gritted his teeth and raised the bid once more; the hammer fell at 4.2 million.

Jiang Cheng offered a "congratulations," and General Manager Zheng added a "you win this round."

Both were smiling, but both were cursing in their hearts.

Because now was not the time to settle scores, as there were still many items to come.

The auction continued, and the lots were brought onto the stage one by one:

Qianlong's annotations on *The Divine Physiognomy of Liu Zhuang*, a Double Crane Furnace used by Yongzheng for burning incense while refining pills at the Old Summer Palace, and a Ming Dynasty five-beam gold-thread horse crown—

The prices varied; the lowest was Qianlong's annotations on *The Divine Physiognomy of Liu Zhuang*, which sold for 1.6 million, followed by the Double Crane Furnace, which sold for 4.6 million.

The highest was the Ming Dynasty five-beam gold-thread horse crown: it sold for 11.5 million.

Lin Sicheng dropped the gavel and said again: "Congratulations, General Manager Jiang!"

Suddenly, Jiang Cheng was grinning from ear to ear, while Zheng Shanghui's face was as black as the bottom of a pot.

Just like before, by the end of the bidding for this item, only the two of them were left. But when it reached 11.2 million, General Manager Zheng thought the one surnamed Jiang was just being difficult again, so he deliberately slowed down.

But in a moment of carelessness, Lin Sicheng dropped the gavel.

For a moment, Zheng Shanghui didn't know who to curse: should he curse Lin Sicheng for calling the price too fast? Three rounds of bidding in under ten seconds, giving no one time to react.

Or should he curse the appraiser? The appraiser had valued this painting between 10 million and 11 million, and because it exceeded the reserve price, Zheng Shanghui had hesitated.

As a result, he had been intercepted by the one surnamed Jiang.

If he had known, he should have fought this bastard to the end—

Just as he was cursing under his breath, a "Boom—" erupted, and the venue seemed to explode.

The Assistant pointed sharply at the stage: "General Manager Zheng, look—"

Look at what?

He instinctively looked up, and the screen displayed a massive piece of seven-colored brocade.

Below was the introduction: *Ming Dynasty Wang Shu Edict*.

Zheng Shanghui was stunned for a moment: Isn't that just a decree of appointment? What is there to make such a fuss about?

Although this thing counts as an Imperial Edict, it is the lowest grade among them. Especially for Ming and Qing Dynasty decrees, three to five or eight of them appear almost every year.

The price is also decent: Qing Dynasty ones are lower, some even in the hundreds of thousands, averaging around a million.

Ming Dynasty ones are more expensive, basically reaching over a million, with high-ranking ones at three or four million, and the best first-rank decrees reaching ten or twenty million.

But that is only the price; in terms of scarcity, it doesn't compare to the two imperial portraits from just a moment ago.

So Zheng Shanghui couldn't understand: Why were these people acting like they were having a collective climax?

Just as he was feeling baffled, the appraiser turned around, his eyes shining: "General Manager Zheng, you might need to consult the board of directors for this item."

Consult about what? Need authorization?

Is my 30 million authorization not enough?

Seeing his confused expression, clearly not yet grasping the situation, the appraiser lowered his voice: "General Manager Zheng, this is an 'Edict', as in 'The Emperor's Edict', not a decree of appointment, and certainly not a command—"

The Emperor's Edict?

Zheng Shanghui's pupils shrank sharply: Isn't this the kind that often appears in TV dramas?

Good heavens, to actually see something like this at a small private auction?

Ming Dynasty Imperial Edicts are divided into seven categories: Edict, Bond, Book, Decree, Proclamation, Appointment, and Command.

Let's talk about the last two first, Appointment and Command: these are both documents used by the Emperor to confer honors upon ministers, ancestors, parents, and wives.

During their lifetime, it is called "bestowing," i. e., bestowed by appointment or command. After death, it is called "gifting," i. e., gifted by appointment or command. There is only one difference between the two:

Fifth rank and above is called Appointment, fifth rank and below is called Command.

As long as Ming Dynasty Imperial Edicts appear on the market, whether for trade or auction, ninety-nine percent are these two types.

Zheng Shanghui also thought that what was shown on the screen was one of these two.

It was only after the appraiser's reminder that he noticed this Imperial Edict was exceptionally long: nearly four or five meters?

Secondly, the beginning of the scroll does not have the specific "By the Grace of Heaven, Appointment" or "By the Grace of Heaven, Command" found on those documents.

Third: The seals are not the *Imperial Edict Treasure* or *Imperial Command Treasure* specific to appointments and commands, but the *Emperor's Travel Treasure* and *Emperor's Travel Treasure*.

Fourth, and most crucially, the format and content:

"In the third year of Hongzhi, the year of Gengxu, the first day of the eleventh month, Yiyou, on the twenty-third day, Dingwei, the Emperor decrees: The state has established laws; when ministers labor for the royal cause, the monarch must extend grace to honor their ancestors—"

Fearing General Manager Zheng wouldn't understand, the appraiser kept it as brief as possible: "The form is correct, a first-rank official appointment, honoring three generations, a first-rank appointment!"

"The material is also correct: five-colored brocade—what is wrong is the Seal Mark, as well as the format and content—"

"According to the *Great Ming Collected Statutes*, the *Emperor's Travel Treasure* is only used for the investiture of the Crown Prince, Princes, Empresses, and Imperial Concubines—it's not that it can't be used for ministers, but even if it were, it would only be used on yellow dragon-paper edicts for rewarding labor or consolation; an edict like this one would have to be returned afterward—"

"And the *Emperor's Travel Treasure*, this seal is only for sealing foreign vassals, corresponding to the *Emperor's Travel Treasure*, inheriting the six seals of the Qin and Han Dynasties:

The Emperor rules the Central Plains, the Son of Heaven rules the four barbarians—"

"But that is secondary; what is most incorrect is the format: for all Appointments and Commands, the beginning of the scroll must have the seal script for 'By the Grace of Heaven, Appointment' or Command, but this one does not—"

"For all Appointments and Commands, the beginning must have 'By the Grace of Heaven, the Emperor decrees', but this one starts directly with 'In the year of...', followed by the year and the sexagenary cycle, and only then 'The Emperor decrees'—this is the standard format and paradigm for Ming Dynasty Golden Book investitures—"

General Manager Zheng widened his eyes: "Fake?"

"No, it precisely proves it is real—General Manager Zheng, look at those test reports, the silk, the silk, the jade rod, the ink paste—every test that could be done has been done, as complete as can be. This part could be faked, for example, using Ming Dynasty materials to imitate a Ming Dynasty system," the appraiser pointed at the screen, "In the first month of the first year of Chenghua, the Chenghua Emperor had just ascended the throne and wanted to make Wan Zhen Er his Imperial Concubine. But the Chenghua Emperor doted on Wan Zhen Er too much and feared it would threaten the position of the newly installed Wu Huang Hou, so the nobles and relatives, led by Marquis of Huichang Sun Jizong (head of the maternal relatives, the Chenghua Emperor's cousin-in-law, Wu Huang Hou's cousin-in-law) and Marquis of Huaining Sun Tang (Sun Jizong's clansman, Wu Huang Hou's own uncle), firmly opposed it—"

"The Chenghua Emperor, in a fit of rage, drafted a secret decree, but the then-Director of the Directorate of Ceremonial, Niu Yu, had old ties with Sun Tang and refused to use the seal under various pretexts. The Chenghua Emperor was furious, chased him to the Directorate of Ceremonial, and used this *Emperor's Travel Treasure*—the one for sealing Princes and Concubines—as a brick to crack Niu Yu's head open—"

"Afterward, Wu Huang Hou was deposed, Sun Tang was 'ordered to live in leisure', and Niu Yu was demoted to Nanjing to guard the tombs—and after that, Wan Zhen Er was successfully made Imperial Concubine—"

"The key lies in this seal; look at the middle of the character 'Travel', is a piece missing? This is where a chunk chipped off when the Chenghua Emperor smashed Niu Yu—"

Zheng Shanghui peered carefully: "The second horizontal stroke of the character 'Hang' is missing a long section, and there is clearly a pit in the middle."

He was half-doubting: "With such a small defect, it shouldn't be hard to forge, right?"

"It is actually quite hard to forge, because this seal wasn't used for long, only twenty years: in the ninth year of Zhengde (the son of the Chenghua Emperor), a great fire broke out in the palace, and the Qianqing Palace and Kunning Palace were completely burned down, including the seventeen Imperial Treasures of the Ming Emperor.

These seals were either shattered, cracked, or lost. This 'Imperial Hang Treasure' fared a bit better, only having a corner broken off. During the Zhengde era, they followed the old precedent of the Imperial Jade Seal and used gold to repair it. The seal impressions made back then are already quite different from this one—"

"But it was burned so severely that it would chip off a little from time to time, and the seal impressions became increasingly blurred. By the twelfth year of Zhengde, the Emperor ordered the eunuchs to re-engrave a batch—"

General Manager Zheng understood: very few people knew that this seal had once had a pit, and even fewer relevant documents remained; ordinary people could never see them. Even if he wanted to imitate it, he wouldn't know how to do so.

Since the seal was real and the material was also real, then this Imperial Edict was naturally real as well.

"Actually, strictly speaking, this Imperial Edict does not conform to the rites: it uses the paradigm for enfeoffing the imperial clan, and it is also stamped with the seal for enfeoffing the clan—'There are seven types of imperial systems for royal decrees: Zhao, Quan, Ce, Zhi, Yu, Gao, and Chi—except for the Zhao decrees announced to the world and the Quan documents that endure with the state, the Ce documents rank third; they are truly imperial decrees of the system and cannot be used to enfeoff ministers.'"

"But firstly because of this defective seal, and secondly combined with the actual situation at the time, it happens to prove the authenticity of this item:"

In the twenty-second year of Chenghua, Xianzong was annoyed by Wang Shu's repeated outspokenness, first demoting him to Nanjing, then ordering Wang Shu to retire; historical records state:

"The court and the public were both shocked—"

"Half a year later, Hongzhi succeeded to the throne and summoned Wang Shu to the capital, appointing him Minister of the Ministry of Personnel and adding the title of Crown Prince's Grand Guardian—"

This is the old routine of feudal dynasties: before an old emperor dies, he will scout out one or two pillars of support for the young emperor. First, keep them away from the political center, then appropriately suppress them: one is for protection, and the other is to make it convenient for the young emperor to bestow favors after succeeding to the throne.

But it is truly rare for the Chenghua Emperor to suppress Wang Shu as severely as he did.

The harder he was suppressed, the more heavily he was used; Wang Shu did not fail the Chenghua Emperor's heavy trust, entering the court at the advanced age of seventy-two to take charge of the selection and assessment of officials nationwide, initiating the early governance of the Hongzhi era, known as "the court filled with righteous men."

Six years later, the political situation gradually stabilized, and only after Wang Shu requested to retire many times did Hongzhi allow him to return to his hometown.

From the Zhengtong to the Jingtai, then to the Tianshun, Chenghua, and Hongzhi eras, Wang Shu served through five reigns and four emperors, assisting Hongzhi in eliminating treacherous officials, cutting redundant staff, promoting the pure-minded, appointing famous ministers, and suppressing the nobility and restraining the imperial clan; one does not know how much effort he exerted or how much responsibility he bore.

Even with the pure reputation of "Twelve Ministries in two capitals, only one Wang Shu," he was worthy of the Hongzhi Emperor breaking the rules for him once.

To put it bluntly: the fields granted were still those same fields, and the titles added were still those same titles; it was merely a change in wording and the addition of two imperial seals, yet it could make a veteran minister of five reigns work himself to the bone—why not do it?

"So that means, this is real?"

"Of course it's real, otherwise they wouldn't need to be so excited!" The appraiser pointed upward again, "General Manager Zheng, look at that appraisal report, the one done by eye, the signature at the very bottom—"

General Manager Zheng squinted: Luo Suizu, Guo Fuxiang?

But he thought for a long time and couldn't remember who these two were.

"Luo Suizu is the son of the former Palace Museum Seal Group Leader Luo Fuyi; these two are both leading authorities on ancient seals, specializing in Ming and Qing official seals,"

"Imperial Treasure seal scripts, seals, and the dating of imperial decrees. In the country, whenever there is research on Ming and Qing Imperial Treasure seal scripts, forms, and imperial decrees, the works of the Luo family are the foundation."

"Guo Fuxiang is a retired research fellow from the Forbidden City; he is a Senior Brother to Luo Suizu and is also one of the only two famous experts currently researching Ming and Qing imperial seals,"

"and imperial decrees. With his monograph 'Ming and Qing Imperial Seals,' and his research on the rules for using seals on Golden Books and imperial edicts, as well as various imperial decrees, there is no one more professional than them—"

General Manager Zheng suddenly realized: these two were the most professional seal experts in the country, and they were the most authoritative kind possible.

Even more professional and authoritative than Director Sheng, who was sitting at the auction table now.

Looking at Director Sheng again, he was whispering with his head against Zhang Zongxian's. Beside Zhang Zongxian, Zhang Yuanqiao was restless and eager to try.

What was this about? Preparing to bid?

Just as he was suspicious, the appraiser lowered his voice: "General Manager Zheng, there's no time, General Manager Sun and the others have all gone out!"

Zheng Shanghui paused abruptly and looked to the side: Sun Yan was gone, and Jiang Cheng was gone too.

There were also several other heads of investment institutions and funds whose seats were all empty.

Had they all gone to get authorization?

He was shocked, stood up, and walked out, taking out his mobile phone as he walked—

A loud drum needs a heavy hammer; Lin Sicheng's rhythm control was very steady, his introduction was very detailed, and he also gave the guests plenty of time to ask questions.

But the strange thing was that almost no one asked questions; only two people asked about the origin of this Imperial Edict, but no one asked if this item was real or fake, or how much credibility it had.

Because one could disbelieve anything else, but one could not disbelieve that appraisal report: except for the Forbidden City, there was no other place with a collection of a large number of Ming dynasty imperial edict drafts and original imperial decrees. Furthermore, there was no place where experts had more professional and authoritative research and comparisons on Ming and Qing Imperial Edicts and imperial seals than the staff of the Forbidden City.

It wasn't to say that the staff of the Forbidden City wouldn't have problems; the Gold Thread Jade Suit case had just broken, and although it hadn't been reported extensively yet, who among the industry insiders didn't know?

The key to being able to swindle over a billion with a pile of stone shards worth only a few thousand was the appraisal report issued by Deputy Director Shi of the Cultural Relics Appraisal Committee and former Deputy Director Yang of the Palace Museum.

It also just went to show how powerful the credibility and appeal of top experts were.

But this time it was different: not only was there the endorsement of top experts, but there was also the guarantee of Zhang Zongxian, a titan of the collecting world, which was equivalent to adding double insurance; even if it were fake, there was no need to be afraid.

If one looked at it from another angle, it would be better if it were fake: was Zhang Zongxian's lifelong reputation only worth one Imperial Edict?

If it really turned out to be fake, Yongyuan Hang would only be able to cover it up, and they would only lose more.

Holding this mentality, every guest with a bit of strength was rubbing their hands in anticipation.

Lin Sicheng announced the reserve price, fifteen million, and also announced the bidding rules: the increments would still follow the "2, 5, 8, 0" pattern, but the unit for this time had become "million."

The guests collectively agreed, but there was one point: Lin Sicheng did not allow any form of jumping the bid, meaning no shouting out individual prices.

As long as you raised your paddle, I would treat it as a normal increment.

Many guests were very dissatisfied and also didn't understand: as the seller, shouldn't it be more beneficial to Lin Sicheng the higher the guests bid?

Why was Lin Sicheng imposing so many restrictions?

For this, Lin Sicheng specifically explained: this was a private auction, and since friends were willing to give him face and come to support him, he had to at least be fair and impartial.

If it were anyone else, or a different occasion, someone would definitely sneer and give him the middle finger. But today that wouldn't work, because Lin Sicheng had been doing it this way from start to finish—

Deliberately waiting a bit longer, for about half an hour, Lin Sicheng announced the start.

Unlike before, there was no scene of collective scrambling this time; the venue was very quiet.

After being quiet for nearly ten seconds, someone finally raised their hand, but there were only two people.

Lin Sicheng quoted normally: "Fifteen million—seventeen million—"

After the second quote, there was a pause of nearly ten seconds before a third guest raised their hand.

Lin Sicheng's speaking speed was much slower, the rhythm of the auction was much slower, and there were far fewer guests bidding compared to before.

At a glance, it seemed as if the atmosphere was suddenly not as enthusiastic as before?

In fact, anyone with experience can tell: although the pace is slow, it is very steady, and the rhythm of the price increases has never once broken.

To put it professionally: this is the rhythm and atmosphere a top-tier auction should have.

But for it to appear at a small, private auction is quite absurd.

Thus, in less than three minutes, the price broke through thirty million, and many of the guests who had previously participated in the bidding had already given up.

But the strange thing is, the number of guests participating in the bidding did not decrease?

Many old faces were gone, and many new faces had appeared.

As if by prior agreement, many guests subconsciously looked toward the circle of funds, but they discovered: not one of the six or seven people in that circle had moved.

Could it be that they didn't want to bid?

That is nonsense; it was simply not yet time for them to make a move. This shows that the price of thirty million was still a long way from their target price.

After another five minutes or so, the price reached fifty million without anyone noticing. The pace slowed down a bit: there were half as many guests raising their paddles as before, the speed of price increases had clearly slowed, and basically, it was only when the second call for bids came that someone would raise their hand.

Many people thought it should be at the end, and perhaps the next moment, Lin Sicheng would have to strike the gavel.

Only experienced veteran bidders understood that the competition had just begun.

The first to lose their composure were two private equity funds; they called out a bid at fifty-five million, and another at sixty-two million.

But then there was silence, because three state-owned funds made their move: Sun Yan, Zheng Shanghui, and Jiang Cheng each called out a bid, and the price reached seventy million.

This is a watershed, and even more so, the standard line used by industry insiders to measure whether the organizer is a top-tier firm.

But they weren't surprised for long before Lin Sicheng's voice reached their ears again: "General Manager Sun increases the bid to seventy-two million—the next bid is seventy-five million, are there any guests who will increase the bid?"

"Seventy-two million for the first time, are there any guests who will increase the bid?"

Just after asking once, Zheng Shanghui raised his hand.

"General Manager Zheng increases the bid to seventy-five million, the next bid is seventy-eight million, are there any guests who will increase the bid? Seventy-eight million for the first time—"

"General Manager Sun increases the bid by two million, the current quote is eighty million, the next bid is eighty-two million—"

Subconsciously, ninety percent of the guests looked over: it was already eighty million, why was the pace still so steady?

It wasn't that Lin Sicheng was controlling it steadily, but the frequency of these people's bids: not too many, not too few, not too late, not too early; every time Lin Sicheng finished quoting the price and finished the first call, just as he was about to make the second call, someone would raise their paddle?

It was just as if they had agreed upon it—

At this moment, even the veteran bidders gasped: at this pace, they were afraid there could still be seven or eight more rounds of bidding?

Two million per round; by this calculation, this item would in all likelihood break one hundred million.

Amidst the astonishment, the bidding proceeded in an orderly manner, round after round, all the way to ninety-eight million.

The moment Sun Yan raised his hand, the room was silent for several seconds: it broke one hundred million?

But this was over one hundred million?

It wasn't just the guests who were surprised; even Wang Qi Zhi and Zhao Xiuneng widened their eyes.

They knew very clearly that on the day Lin Sicheng brought this item, Wang Qi Zhi had specifically invited Sheng Guoan to take a look. At the time, Sheng Guoan had said this: as long as the promotion is in place, thirty to forty million is the floor. If you are lucky and run into a capable buyer, fifty or sixty million is not out of the question.

Therefore, they had always thought that this Imperial Edict would only fetch forty or fifty million.

And now, how much was it? One hundred million.

But looking at Sheng Guoan, he didn't seem surprised; instead, he had an interested look on his face, as if he were waiting to see how much this item would ultimately fetch.

Looking at Lin Sicheng again, he seemed even calmer, like a robot, quoting the price normally and calling the bids normally.

It was as if he had known all along that this item could fetch this much.

After three more rounds of bidding, Zheng Shanghui increased the bid to one hundred and ten million, and Sun Yan sighed and leaned back against his chair.

The appraiser from Fujian Province had valued it at one hundred million; to be safe, his superiors had specifically added ten million more, granting him an authorization of one hundred and ten million.

But he couldn't help it that his two peers were too fierce, showing absolutely no signs of hesitation or pausing. This indicated that those two had higher authorization limits.

Only Jiang Cheng and Zheng Shanghui were left in the room; Chen Yangyan had originally wanted to get involved, but was stopped by a look from Lin Sicheng.

It wasn't that he was afraid General Manager Chen lacked the strength, nor was it that he was afraid General Manager Chen would regret the purchase, but rather that he couldn't compete.

Strictly speaking, art funds are fundamentally different from collectors and antique companies, as well as art investment institutions, including their narratives, carriers, and their methods and goals for making money.

If one must make a comparison, the difference between the two is greater than that between a human and a dog.

They do not directly buy and sell Cultural Relics, but are financial institutions that use Cultural Relics as underlying investment targets.

What they like most are treasures that possess a powerful narrative capacity, can cause a sensation in the industry, can even trigger social hot topics, and possess extremely strong liquidity.

To give the simplest example: create positive news, drive up stock prices.

Under this premise, they dare to bid at a premium of double, or even two or three times the price. As long as the attention is high enough and the narrative is strong enough.

Furthermore, there is no need to fear being stuck with it; it is nothing more than moving it from the left hand to the right hand. Every time it is moved, it is a piece of positive news—

Sure enough?

Even though only these two remained, the pace did not slow down much.

On the contrary, because the gunpowder had already been ignited earlier, the speed was much faster: as soon as one side raised their hand, the other side raised theirs.

Lin Sicheng still quoted the price according to the established rhythm; in the large venue, with nearly one hundred guests, only his voice could be heard.

One hundred and twenty million—one hundred and thirty million—one hundred and forty million—one hundred and fifty million—

The guests seemed to have been frozen in place, tilting their heads and craning their necks, staring fixedly at these two, not even daring to breathe.

Zheng Shanghui's face was pale, and he was clenching his teeth tightly.

The authorization approved by his superiors was only one hundred and twenty million; half of the remaining thirty million was because he was provoked by Jiang Cheng and felt resentful, wanting to make the man surnamed Jiang pay dearly.

Of course, if he messed up and the item was stuck in his hands, he would have to sit on the bench for several years.

The other half came from his grasp and intuition regarding market trends after many years in the financial industry: this item could absolutely trigger a public hot topic.

And as it happens, funds are one of the few types of products that are strictly prohibited by law from public promotion, and for which one cannot even find a physical entity if they want to advertise. If you want more people to know and want to attract more high-net-worth clients, you can only find ways to create hot topics.

How many auction items worth over one hundred million appear in a few years?

Believe it or not, as long as it is operated well, the effect will be even better than being the top advertiser for the thirty seconds before the CCTV News Broadcast.

Jiang Cheng was actually even more nervous than him; sweat seeped out on his forehead, and his clenched fists trembled slightly.

Poly is quite strong, but it lacks backing from banks and has limited cash flow, so his authority is even lower than Zheng Shanghui's, barely on par with Sun Yan: 110 million!

He was completely gambling on the remaining 40 million: gambling that a more capable guest would take over.

As long as someone took over, it would give him a greater opportunity: Jiang Cheng was confident he could create a flashpoint even more favorable than the public hot topic.

But there was a prerequisite: he had to find a way to kick Sun Yan and the man surnamed Zheng out of the game first. So, there was no other way; he could only grit his teeth and hold on.

But what if the gamble was wrong?

The consequences for Jiang Cheng would be even more miserable than for Zheng Shanghui; it was no longer a question of whether he would be sidelined: if he were lucky, he might spend the rest of his life in a sinecure, drawing a salary that barely kept him fed. If he were unlucky and his superiors took it seriously, he would face a lawsuit, or even go to jail.

But there was only this one chance—

He raised his hand once again, and Lin Sicheng announced the bid normally: "General Manager Jiang increases the bid, 152 million!"

As the words fell, Zheng Shanghui bit his teeth hard and cursed, "Damn it."

It had indeed made the man surnamed Jiang bleed heavily, but he still didn't feel happy inside: because there was one more formidable opponent.

There was a "buzz" in the venue, as if the play button had been pressed on a paused television screen.

A starting bid of 15 million, and it had actually been raised to 150 million, a full ten-fold premium, and someone was still raising the bid?

Of course, this was just Lin Sicheng deliberately lowering the price to liven up the atmosphere and get more people involved.

But even calculating by a relatively fair valuation of 50 million, this item had already risen three-fold.

Only Lin Sicheng continued to call out the price unhurriedly: "152 million for the first time, is there anyone who will raise the bid again?

Alright, 152 million for the second time, is there anyone who will raise the bid?"

From asking for the price to calling it out, there was a slight pause in between, about four or five seconds.

After calling it out the second time, he paused again, still for four or five seconds: "152 million for the third time—"

Lin Sicheng picked up the gavel, and the guests' hearts rose to their throats: as soon as this gavel fell, a Chinese work of art worth over 100 million would soon be born into the world again.

Jiang Cheng's heart beat like a drum, and he even closed his eyes: No one to take over?

It's over—

But suddenly, someone let out an exclamation: "Raised—raised—"

He opened his eyes abruptly, his eyes as if charged with electricity, searching everywhere.

After turning around several times, he finally saw it: a slender white hand raised in the front row.

Although it was only raised for a moment before being put down, Jiang Cheng saw it clearly: sitting in the same row as Zhang Zongxian, right next to Zhang Yuanqiao.

Zhang Zongxian's granddaughter, Zhang Yuanfan.

In an instant, Jiang Cheng's heart contracted violently, and blood rushed to his head: he had gambled correctly—

He had been wondering before: Zhang Zongxian made a special trip, and with such a grand display, bringing his children and grandchildren, just to spend 5 million to donate a painting by Zhang Daqian to the Forbidden City?

As for opening a company in Beijing and acting as a guarantor for Lin Sicheng, Zhang Yuanqiao could handle these things; it wasn't Zhang Zongxian's place to intervene.

Jiang Cheng further speculated: if it were just to stand on stage for Lin Sicheng and bolster his image, Zhang Hantao wouldn't even need to come; Zhang Yuanqiao and Zhang Yuanfan would be enough, let alone Zhang Zongxian?

If he could drag his sick body to make a special trip, there must be something that attracted him. Combined with his nickname "Mr. Number One" and his habit of "never leaving empty-handed once he starts bidding," he was definitely going to bid on something for himself.

And there were only so many lots in the catalog; the Imperial Edict was already the last one. Besides this, what else could Zhang Zongxian bid on?

Facts proved that he had gambled correctly.

But Jiang Cheng knew that now was not the time to stop, otherwise the intention of deliberately raising the price would be too obvious. In the end, not only would he fail to leave a good impression on Zhang Zongxian, but he might even cause resentment.

He endured the palpitation, slowly exhaled, and raised his hand again.

His hand was held very steady, but under the table, his two legs were shaking.

But strangely, Lin Sicheng had become quiet instead?

He neither reported the price nor called it out.

Thinking he had been stunned, Zhao Xiuneng gathered his courage and shouted: "Junior Brother!"

He had to gather his courage: over 150 million, he didn't even dare to think about it—

Lin Sicheng nodded, meaning he wasn't dazed, but he was indeed very surprised.

Being able to have Yongyuan Hang guarantee for him, Zhang Zongxian must have nodded in approval. The two sides had discussed it more than once and met more than once; Zhang Zongxian knew exactly which items were to be auctioned today.

But he had never mentioned that he would bid on this Imperial Edict.

The key was that the premium was too high: three times was a bit exaggerated, but it had already exceeded the value by at least double.

Yongyuan Hang was not a fund company; if they bid it back, they would immediately lose 70 or 80 million—

As if knowing what he was thinking, Zhang Zongxian nodded.

Lin Sicheng understood that this meant for him to continue.

Of course he had to continue, because the auction was still ongoing, and as long as the bidding didn't stop, he couldn't strike the gavel.

Lin Sicheng could only report the price: "Miss Zhang 155 million, General Manager Jiang 158 million—the next bid, 160 million—"

As soon as the words fell, Zhang Yuanfan's hand was raised again: 160 million.

Jiang Cheng raised his hand again: 162 million.

Zhang Yuanfan followed closely: 165 million.

Jiang Cheng stood up with a helpless and disappointed look on his face and cupped his hands toward the front row: "Miss Zhang, congratulations, and congratulations to Mr. Zhang—"

Just as Zhang Yuanfan was about to say something, Zhang Zongxian waved his hand, turned his head, and smiled: "General Manager Jiang, thank you!"

This smile startled Jiang Cheng.

He had an intuition: it was as if Zhang Zongxian knew what he was thinking, and even more so, what he was going to do next.

In an instant, Jiang Cheng's face flushed, as if he were drunk.

Gambled correctly—

No, that's not right, it's a huge profit—

"Zheng, just wait to eat shit!"

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