As I watched the tables and display stands being set up on the stage below, I immediately realized that the auction I had seen announced earlier was about to begin. The suddenly dimmed environment and the restless voices around me made me feel a bit uneasy. Looking at the old lady’s ambiguous expression, I had a premonition that I might have done something foolish, and it was definitely related to this auction.

Thoughts flashed through my mind, but I couldn’t grasp the intricacies of the situation right away. I felt as if the stool I was sitting on had sprouted thorns, and discomfort began to rise within me. My pride forced me to maintain a facade of calm, but I knew that with my composure, it would be hard to completely hide my feelings in front of this old player. At that moment, I felt it might be better to stand up and leave rather than continue to conceal my unease. I was torn, but after some contemplation, I decided to grit my teeth and wait it out.

I glanced at the fat man beside me for reassurance, but he looked a bit anxious too; this wasn’t his territory, and it seemed he was feeling the pressure as well. However, I thought to myself that we had faced far worse situations together, so what could possibly happen here? At worst, we might get thrown out, but we wouldn’t lose our heads.

With that thought, I immediately relaxed and smiled at the old lady, thinking to myself that she underestimated me. After all, I had been through life-and-death situations multiple times; this little scene was nothing to me. So, I sat up straight and focused on the happenings below.

The stage was soon equipped with an auction platform and display bases. A person who looked like a staff member took the stage with a microphone to make adjustments, while others were testing the lighting. They were all dressed in uniforms, and it didn’t seem like this was organized by an auction company. It appeared to be, as rumored, a private internal auction, a gathering for those in the industry.

The fat man had mentioned earlier that the most special thing about this auction was that it didn’t recognize any experts or scholars; it was all about perception and connections. Most of the items auctioned here couldn’t be appraised, and many people had never even seen them. The price you bid didn’t have a benchmark; you might feel an item could sell for five million, but the other party might know someone willing to pay ten million, leaving you with no recourse.

In other words, to participate here, you first needed to know what was being auctioned, and then have an idea of its worth before you could make a bid. This required making quick judgments in a very short time frame. Therefore, it could be said that this was the most thrilling place in Beijing for antique enthusiasts.

Moreover, the scariest part was that you could also end up buying fakes. You had to be someone with a keen eye for quality, because the fakes that made it to this venue might have already surpassed the category of mere replicas. To put it in modern terms, there were items known as “original single goods,” a concept that has recently emerged online. These goods were authentic products manufactured by the factory but never released to the market; instead, the factory bypassed the brand owner and sold them directly. Thus, you could end up with something that had the same quality and details as the genuine article, but was not officially recognized as such.

Of course, the original items in the collectibles world are not the leftover stock from ancient factories, but rather replicas that counterfeiters have created using extremely advanced technology, making them identical to genuine products. These items are undoubtedly fakes, but you can’t find any flaws through any form of appraisal. Such items have already emerged in today’s antique market. The cost of producing these items is also astonishing; it might take a thousand attempts to create just one perfect piece, so there will inevitably be efforts to maximize the profits from that one exceptional item. Therefore, they will appear in the highest-end market.

Distinguishing these fakes is almost impossible; the only method is to rely on intuition—first, your gut feeling about the seller: does this person’s demeanor and psychological details suggest anything suspicious? Secondly, there’s a sixth sense regarding this type of antique. Additionally, a few connoisseurs can identify issues through certain artistic details. For example, in the case of blue-and-white porcelain, the entire piece may be flawless, but some artists can spot problems in the brushwork of the blue decoration. After all, the techniques of famous porcelain masters from ancient times cannot be perfectly replicated by modern artisans. However, such issues are often difficult to provide as evidence since the quality of art is subjective.

In summary, the auction here can be described as a top-tier feast of knowledge, where anything can happen and any item can appear. This time, the chubby man has seen several prominent figures in the collectibles world, and with the presence of the elderly Mrs. Huo, it’s clear that there’s something extraordinary here that has attracted attention. Thinking about this, I couldn’t help but feel a bit excited.

Soon, the noise below grew louder, and the equipment was ready. A woman in a qipao tested the microphone and addressed the crowd, saying, “The auction is about to begin. We kindly ask any bystanders to leave, as we will be closing the doors shortly. Please maintain silence in the venue, and the staff may begin distributing the auction catalogs and hand stamps.”

The female host had long hair cascading down her shoulders, a very slim waist, and long legs, giving her a distinct aura of a wealthy woman from the Republic of China era in her qipao. Seeing such a beautiful woman of this caliber as the host made me reflect; I remembered that my grandfather had two door rings at the entrance of his old home, which were gilded lion-head rings from the Song Dynasty. Unlike other door rings, these were carved in the shape of coiling dragons and were double-layered, meaning they were hollow with another ring inside, intricately carved as a dragon.

Anyone knowledgeable would recognize the immense value of these door rings; they might be worth several times more than the entire house. This was a special design by my grandfather, meant to convey the family’s power: “Look, such an expensive item as a door ring; I’m not afraid of theft or damage, which means the goods inside must be worth much more than this door ring.” I imagined that friends looking for bargains would hesitate to enter upon seeing such a door ring. In Chinese business, the façade is still of utmost importance.

No wonder my own shop has been so deserted; it hasn’t been renovated in years. Perhaps next time I should let Wang Meng try wearing a qipao too?

The noise downstairs grew louder, and I saw people leaving one after another. The second floor had a circular structure, with countless rooms similar to ours forming a ring facing the central stage below. I noticed that many screens beside us and opposite had been moved aside, and many people had shifted from their dining tables to their seats for watching the performance.

I looked closely and saw a man in a pink shirt sitting alone in a booth slightly to the left across from us, seemingly engrossed in his phone. On the other side, the fat guy subtly pointed to another booth of the same size as ours and whispered, “Liuli Sun.”

That booth was a bit far from us, making it hard to see clearly. At that moment, I noticed that all the other booths had similar furnishings: a root-carved table and a few chairs. However, regardless of how many people were present, everyone was seated on the chairs to the left, while the chairs on the right, including the one I was sitting in, were all empty. I couldn’t help but start sweating.

Just as I was feeling uneasy, someone moved the screen behind us. A waiter approached with a tray covered in red cloth, on which lay a small hardcover booklet. I immediately recognized him as the one who had come to invite us. When he reached the old lady, he suddenly saw me, and his face turned pale, as if he had been frozen in place.

After a long pause, he finally reacted and asked, “Ma’am, it seems your friend has taken the wrong seat, hasn’t he?”

The old lady glanced at him and replied, “What’s wrong? Haven’t you seen this kind of scene in a long time? You don’t believe anyone would dare to sit here? It’s been over a decade since Old Changsheng sat here; no one has had the courage to take this seat since then. But today’s events are quite rare, and it’s fitting that a few reckless ones show up. Please bring this young master from the Wu family another copy of the guest list and serve him well, so you can learn something.”

“Understood!” The waiter shot me a terrified glance before turning to leave. Soon, a copy of the guest list was placed in my hands, along with a pot of exquisite Biluochun tea and four plates of very delicate snacks.

I remembered that this pot of tea cost over seven thousand and felt puzzled, looking at the waiter in question. He explained, “Boss, this is sent by our supervisor for your enjoyment. If you need anything, just call for us.” With that, he quickly left.

I glanced at the fat guy, feeling confused and uneasy. He gave me a reassuring look, signaling me not to be afraid. He had already opened the guest list and was eagerly flipping through it. After just two pages, I noticed the corners of his mouth twitching.