Chapter 374: Qionglong Stone Shadow Auction

I looked at their reluctant expressions, found it strange, and pressed further. The old man tapped a few times, and then the two revealed some information. It turned out that the client behind this deal had a very peculiar status. All they knew was that the person's surname was Huo, a woman, and others called her Old Mrs. Huo. Nothing else was detailed. Although this woman was mysterious, she was quite renowned, with the nickname "Huo Xiangu," meaning everyone knew of the immortal, but no one had ever seen her.

The old man had obviously heard of her and sucked in a breath of cold air, saying, "Whoa! This is a big shot! Among the Old Nine Gates of Changsha, the only woman was Old Woman Huo of Baisha Well. Old Woman Huo had a son who went to Taiwan, and the Huo family subsequently vanished. I've met this Huo Xiangu once; she was Old Woman Huo's third daughter. What a coincidence." With that, he took a name card from his pocket. "Gentlemen, this is my card. Please pass on word that Zheng Fuzhong of the Western Hills requests an audience. I presume I can see her."

The two nodded: "If there's a connection, we can try. Please await good news." Then they took their leave, not wanting to stay a moment longer.

I found the old man's old-fashioned ways amusing. Was it necessary to be so "jianghu"? Handing out a name card—did he think he was in the Green Gang?

The old man said, that's how the people of the Old Nine Gates operate—those who came up through the trade guilds thrive on this kind of thing. This Huo Xiangu, Third Miss Huo, must be over eighty now, and her husband is an extremely formidable figure. She usually keeps to herself and only cares about antiques. If she doesn't take a liking to you, she probably won't even acknowledge you. Also, I need to remind you: your grandfather Wu Laogou is said to have a deep connection with Third Miss Huo. Whether it's good or bad, I don't know, but to be safe, you'd better not say too much.

I said I understood, but didn't take it to heart, finding this wuxia-novel-like plot utterly ridiculous, like acting in a movie. The old man also said he couldn't accompany me, but since I was a descendant of Wu Laogou, going would represent the Wu family. I couldn't show weakness in public, so I should bring a few people to make a show of prestige. If I went alone and Huo Xiangu deliberately made things difficult, with my ability I'd inevitably embarrass myself, which would greatly affect my reputation.

What the old man said made sense. Although I had considerable experience going underground, human hearts are far more sinister than ghosts and gods. I didn't understand the rules of these "jianghu" matters, and I couldn't handle it alone.

But to be honest, on Third Uncle's side there weren't many people I could bring, so that was out of the question. Then, under my command, I only had Wang Meng. That kid is even worse than I am—bringing him would only cause trouble, and he's not in the business, so dragging him into it wouldn't be right.

Old Hai of Hero Mountain? Also no. That old fox is cunning and crafty. He definitely wouldn't do something with such high risk and no benefit to himself.

Panzi was the most suitable candidate, but he had decided to retire. After so many years of life-and-death struggles, he finally had a chance to end well. I absolutely couldn't spoil that.

Actually, the most suitable person was still one other.

But that person was too unreliable. Dragging him into it would surely bring trouble. I really didn't want to mention him. However, it seemed there was no other choice.

After discussing with the old man, he said, "This person you mentioned is somewhat famous in Beijing. I think he's unlikely to cause disaster. Besides, everyone knows his temper. If he causes trouble, it would be considered normal, and we could have an excuse. I think he's a suitable choice. However, are you sure you can convince him?"

I thought to myself, it's just Fatty. What's there to convince? I immediately called him for help. He was bored and agreed at once, saying negotiation was his specialty and he'd handle everything, guaranteeing I'd have face and status. He also asked when I was coming, saying he wanted to treat me to a drink first.

As soon as he finished saying that, I regretted it. You can only believe half of what this guy says. Thinking of his past behavior, I suddenly felt that things would definitely go wrong.

But the call had already been made; I couldn't back out. And there was no other way, so I had to let fate take its course. Long story short, the meeting with Huo Xiangu was arranged, and three days passed quickly.

Three days later, Fatty and I met at Wangfujing in Beijing. Unexpectedly, Poker-face had also tagged along. Both were wearing suits—one fat, one thin, one tall, one short—quite eye-catching, like the Fat and Thin Monks.

Accustomed to seeing them in casual clothes, I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Poker-face had a well-proportioned figure and an expressionless face; in a suit, he looked very dashing and striking. But Fatty's suit was quite ill-fitting, his tie twisted like a fried dough stick, and the size was obviously too small. It looked incredibly shabby.

"This is what you call saving face for me?" I said helplessly. "Which tailor made that suit for you? I'm going to burn that shop down."

"It's not my fault. Your Fatty has been living it up lately; this suit fit perfectly a year ago," Fatty said, also uncomfortable in the tight suit. "Wearing whatever size suit is my freedom. If I wanted to wear children's clothes, that old lady would still have to let me in."

"Fine! You have a point. Then you go first." I didn't have the heart to argue with him, feeling more and more that the Wu family's reputation might be ruined in my hands today.

The place we arranged to meet Huo Xiangu was called the New Moon Hotel. This was an old preserved hotel in Beijing.

I originally thought it was just an ordinary place, but Fatty told me that everyone who deals in antiques in Beijing knew that the New Moon Hotel was where the real experts gathered. They dealt in big items. Compared to it, Liulichang and Panjiayuan were just street stalls. Most major transactions took place in the third-floor theater of this hotel. In the past, it was where eunuchs and foreigners traded. People came in formal attire, hence the tradition of wearing suits. No matter how rich you were, you absolutely couldn't get in wearing shorts.

I had never been here before, this was my first time, and I couldn't help feeling nervous. Entering the lobby, taking the elevator to the third floor, I was greeted by an interior full of heavy decorations—carved window frames and screens.

Fatty had been here before and knew his way around. He called over a waiter and introduced me: "The young master of the Wu family from Changsha."

The waiter, wearing glasses and over sixty, looked me over without any expression. "Please come in. Would you like a private booth or the main hall?"

Fatty asked me what time our appointment was. I checked my watch—half an hour to go. Just as I was about to speak, the waiter saw Poker-face behind me, and in an instant, his expression changed.

I thought he recognized Poker-face and was about to ask, but then I saw someone come out from behind Poker-face—a person who had followed us in. This man was dressed in a black suit with a pink shirt inside, no tie, very casual. The waiter immediately went up and asked, "Young master, your usual seat?"

That person didn't speak, just looked at me and stopped. Suddenly, I felt he looked familiar.