Nine days later, the crowded streets of Chengdu's flea market hummed with life. Vendors shouted over the clamor, the smell of roasting chestnuts and fried snacks mixing with the dust of old artifacts and the faint tang of ink from faded scrolls. Lin Feng weaved carefully between the stalls, small feet darting, eyes scanning like a hawk for the one shop he had been seeking.
That shop… it should be somewhere h…here… maybe… he thought, crouching briefly behind a stack of porcelain bowls. And then, tucked beneath a tattered red banner, he saw it—a cramped little shop overflowing with relics, statues, and trinkets covered in a thin film of dust.
Oh! I found it, he whispered, a grin lighting his small face.
Without hesitation, Lin Feng rushed in, brushing aside clutter as his eyes drank in the collection of artifacts.
"Young lad, do you need something?" the shopkeeper asked, curiosity and amusement playing across his features.
"Uncle! Uncle! What is this? I… I need it! Can you give it to me? How much… how much?" Lin Feng's childish voice bubbled, hands reaching for a bronze vessel with trembling excitement.
The shopkeeper arched a brow, smug. "This is an ancient relic from the Ming dynasty. Worth over a million yuan. But… for you, young one, I'll let it go for 20,000."
Lin Feng gasped, pretending to stagger back. "So much… I don't have that… leave it, uncle…" His wide-eyed awe seemed genuine, and a twinge of guilt crossed the shopkeeper's face.
Then Lin Feng's attention shifted to a smaller Qing dynasty statue, his eyes shining again. "What about this one? How much is it? I want to give it to my aunt!"
The shopkeeper's sternness softened. "Ah… I see sincerity in your eyes. Rare piece from the Qing dynasty… for you, just 1,000 yuan."
Lin Feng shook his head frantically. "No… uncle… I only have 200!"
"The last I can do is 300 yuan," the shopkeeper said, a sigh escaping him.
Lin Feng patted every pocket, unzipped his bag, checked hidden compartments. Finally, he produced a crumpled 100-yuan note from his emergency stash. "Uncle… here! Please take it… I'll give you 300 now!"
Just then, two men in suits, one carrying a briefcase, barreled through the market shouting, "Fan'er! Fan'er!"
No punctuality, no manners… how did he create a billion-dollar company? Lin Feng thought, waving with a faint smile.
The shopkeeper, anxious, muttered, "Maybe… your father's here… give me the money, take the statue…"
"Yes… uncle, of course," Lin Feng said, his voice bubbly and goofy.
He pulled a formal-looking document from his bag—detailing the purchase, the artifact, the transaction. The shopkeeper hesitated, surprised that a child carried such a formal agreement, but eventually signed. Lin Feng handed over the money and took the statue, cradling it carefully.
Lin Feng moved toward the man approaching from the crowd. Gao YunSheng.
"You came alone to a flea market? Buying rusty little statues? What is this madness?" Gao YunSheng scolded, his tone sharp, one eyebrow raised.
Lin Feng, holding the statue carefully, shot back with the same childish earnestness he always wielded. "And you, uncle… maybe if you weren't shouting so loudly, you wouldn't scare everyone here and almost destroy my purchase!"
Gao YunSheng blinked, then smirked. "Young lad… you are a headache to me. Yes, he is the man you asked me to bring."
"I'll take that as a compliment, uncle," Lin Feng replied, bowing slightly in mock formality.
"He is my friend, Wei Ziheng. A lawyer by profession," Gao YunSheng introduced.
Oh! Uncle actually knows the Grim Reaper, Lin Feng thought, suppressing a grin. He straightened and performed a formal bow. "It's an honor, Mr. Wei," he said carefully, his childlike voice curiously confident.
"Hello, child. I heard about your bet with Xiao Bao. Are you confident?" Wei Ziheng asked, calm and precise.
Lin Feng's lips curled. "Confident… isn't really the word. I simply do what I must."
Gao YunSheng's eyes narrowed. "Young man… have you accepted defeat early? Why did you call me?"
Lin Feng's reply was sharp, biting, playful: "Because uncle, someone has to teach you how to be on time and not shout like a madman in the market."
Wei Ziheng laughed heartily. "Hahaha! Little one… tell me why you need my help."
Gao YunSheng cut in, holding a small replica Buddha: "Lin Feng, many of these are replicas of Qing dynasty statues. What's your plan here?"
Lin Feng grinned, slammed the Buddha onto the ground. Clay cracked and inside rolled out a smooth, translucent white jade seal. A coiled dragon rose from the top, cloud and wave patterns carved intricately, Chinese characters engraved at the base.
Wei Ziheng's eyes widened. "Incredible…" he shouted, voice trembling with amusement and awe.
Lin Feng's grim smile grew. Rumors were true. The Grim Reaper really is an antique appraiser.
"Let's move somewhere private," Wei Ziheng said, glancing around. "Too many ears here."
In the car, Gao YunSheng drove, glancing at the rearview. "Can someone screen what's happening here?"
"Mr. Wei… will you explain or should I?" Lin Feng asked, calm and teasing.
Wei Ziheng chuckled silently. "Little Gao… you've been defeated by this young lad. That seal isn't ordinary—it's a Han dynasty imperial seal. Worth millions."
Lin Feng's chuckle was soft, almost boyish.
Gao YunSheng muttered under his breath, but Wei Ziheng silenced him with a sharp glance. Lin Feng leaned back, enjoying the quiet chaos of adult egos clashing.
"Enough, adults," Lin Feng said, voice light and teasing.
"You surely didn't call me just for an appraisal, young one," Wei Ziheng observed.
"Your mind is clever," Lin Feng said, genuine admiration lacing his tone.
Wei Ziheng leaned forward. "Come to the point."
Lin Feng laid out the plan: legalize the seal, appraise its value, set up a private auction, report the smuggler gang anonymously through Gao YunSheng. He handed over a sheet with names of suspects, requested 2% share if urgent funds were needed.
"How do you know so much about this?" Gao YunSheng asked incredulously.
"I… heard it somewhere," Lin Feng replied, shrugging innocently.
Later, in his bedroom, Meng Qi handed him the phone with a playful grin. "It's Xiao Bao."
Lin Feng blinked, confused. "Hello?"
"Forgotten me already, young lad?" came the teasing voice.
Lin Feng's reply was swift, smug, and merciless. "I only forget the weak… you're lucky I remembered to answer."
Gao YunSheng, leaning against the doorframe, shook his head with a mixture of amusement and mock despair. "The seal… sold in the auction for nearly twenty million. All proceeds in my account."
"Are you going back on your word about the bet?" Lin Feng teased, voice sharp with sarcasm.
"I'll keep my word," Gao YunSheng replied, formal now, "Let's arrange our cooperation. Timing, day. And stop roasting me."
Lin Feng chuckled, letting a small spark of satisfaction linger. "Fine, fine. I won't trouble you from now. Tomorrow morning, we discuss our cooperation."