Yun Ya raised an eyebrow.
Yan Song turned his head and glanced at her.
It turns out her great-grandfather liked collecting inkstones. Yun Ya walked over, glanced at the inkstone, and to be honest, she didn’t know much about antique appraisal. But from the shopkeeper’s way of speaking, she knew this inkstone had to be fake.
"Oh? From the Reign of Qian De in Song Dynasty, huh." Yun Ya picked it up and took a look. As soon as she held it, there was a sense of simplicity and heaviness. Yun Ya secretly caressed it, then raised her eyes to look at Yan Song.
Is this shopkeeper clueless or what?
Yun Ya examined the inkstone carefully and felt sothing was off.
Yan Song glanced at her and said, "Na your price."
The shopkeeper liked straightforward people, "Twenty thousand, not a cent less."
Yan Song sneered: "This inkstone doesn’t even have an inscription, the texture is rough and mixed. Are you taking for a fool?"
Seeing this person knew his stuff, the shopkeeper hesitated: "Eighteen thousand, can’t go any lower."
Yan Song put it down and started to leave.
Yun Ya saw the shopkeeper seem anxious: "Ten thousand."
Yun Ya stifled a laugh.
Yan Song’s footsteps didn’t pause at all.
The shopkeeper grit his teeth, "Five thousand, five thousand it is."
Yan Song stopped, turned and glanced at him, and said firmly: "One thousand."
Yun Ya secretly clicked her tongue. From twenty thousand to one thousand, a twentyfold decrease.
Well, it was originally acquired for two hundred bucks, a fivefold increase isn’t bad.
"Deal."
Yan Song’s lips curled into a smile.
Yun Ya felt there was a touch of slyness in that smile.
"You sure are good at bargaining, you must be an expert." The shopkeeper said while wrapping up the deal, casually asking. Sohow, he felt sothing wasn’t quite right, glanced at the man, then at the inkstone in his hand. Could it be a hidden gem?
In that mont, he suddenly hesitated.
Yun Ya raised an eyebrow slightly, casually picked up a high-relief red jade plaque from the counter, and said with a smile: "Brother Yan, this is so pretty."
Yan Song laughed: "A red jade from Hetian? If you like it, take it."
Yun Ya shook her head and put it back: "On second thought, I don’t think it’s that nice."
The shopkeeper’s eyes flashed with a hint of ridicule. This was clearly Dali marble, crafted to look real, but anyone knowledgeable would see through it. It was just for show to create a festive vibe. And this man actually said it was Hetian jade, then looked at the girl with an admiring expression, secretly thinking the man was pretending to know to please the woman.
Without a shred of doubt or hesitation left, he swiftly wrapped up the package and handed it to Yan Song with both hands.
Just as Yun Ya was about to pay, Yan Song pressed her hand down, shoved the inkstone to her, pulled out his wallet, and swiped his card.
As they left, the shopkeeper waved them off with a smile: "Co again next ti." He was secretly delighted thinking he had scamd them, wishing he’d overcharged them even more.
Yun Ya laughed until her stomach hurt, "Haha, that shopkeeper thought he was so clever, little did he know Brother Yan played him. Seeing his expression just made laugh."
Yan Song chuckled as he ruffled her hair: "You’re the cunning one." If it weren’t for Yun Ya’s little act at the end, it wouldn’t have been so easy to dispel the shopkeeper’s suspicion.
"But Brother Yan, is the inkstone real?"
Yan Song smiled: "You’ll see when we get back."
"But we only bought one inkstone, what about my gift?"
Yan Song glanced at the inkstone: "That’s your gift."
Yun Ya’s mouth dropped open in surprise: "But that’s yours."
"I’ve already prepared a gift for great-grandfather."
"Then why did you insist on paying just now?"
Yan Song sighed: "What’s mine is yours. Why be so calculative? When Brother Yan buys sothing for you, just take it."
Yun Ya smiled with lips pursed.
As soon as they left, a middle-aged woman rushed into the shop with an eleven or twelve-year-old boy.
"Shopkeeper, let ask you, did this kid bring an inkstone to sell this morning?" The woman asked bluntly, her tone fierce.
The shopkeeper, still basking in the joy of a recent windfall, was contemplating how much to skim off without the boss noticing. Upon hearing the question, he raised his head unhurriedly. The woman, lean and plain, stared with wide eyes, the boy sobbed... hey, he looked familiar.
Wasn’t he the sa boy who sold the inkstone earlier? He had sneaked in holding an inkstone, claiming he found it on the road and asking how much he could get for it.
Seeing the inkstone as unremarkable, lacking in aesthetics, collectability, or utility, he had paid two hundred bucks for it, then turned around and sold it to the man just now, making eight hundred in profit, feeling quite pleased with himself.
"Yeah, he said he found it on the road, what’s the matter?" The shopkeeper replied lazily.
"Where is it? How much did you pay him? I’ll buy it back for double." The woman leaned against the counter, nearly shouting.
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