Chapter 3: An Eye for Hidden Worth

William Chen’s gaze remained locked on Lin Yuan, the fountain pen spinning back into motion. The crisp click of the mechanism echoed sharply in the dead silence of the room. He suddenly took a step forward, closing the distance between them and tilting his head down with a look of superior inspection. His leather shoes made barely a sound on the carpet, yet the movement sliced through the frozen tension in the air like a dull knife.

William Chen: "To me, this bowl is worth a fortune. Name your price. One million. Do you sell?"

Lin Yuan didn’t blink at the massive number. He simply set the porcelain bowl down gently, his fingertips tracing the subtle texture along the rim. The touch was cool and fine, carrying the smooth, quiet warmth of aged materials. He looked up, his eyes calm as a deep pool, showing not a shred of the panic that money usually induces. The gazes of the onlookers, who had been waiting to see a spectacle, now focused on him like spotlights.

Lin Yuan: "No. It’s a complete work of art. Dismantling it or letting it vanish into the black market is an insult to history."

William Chen let out a light chuckle, the corner of his mouth curling into an amused, skeptical arc, as if he’d heard some amusing lie. His bodyguards stepped forward instantly, cutting off the path for anyone trying to get closer. An invisible pressure instantly blanketed the entire room. The heavy air felt solidified, making even the sound of breathing feel labored.

William Chen: "Young man, I’m William Chen, and I appreciate your technical skill. This is me giving you face. If you don’t know how to recognize a handout, you won’t go far in this industry."

Just as the atmosphere stretched to the breaking point, a cold voice cut in from the side. Wang Qiang stood there holding his coffee cup, his eyes icy behind his glasses, wearing a thin veil of disdainful amusement. He deliberately adjusted his breathing to give his voice more penetration.

Wang Qiang: "Lin Yuan, you need to wake up. Offending an international heavy hitter like that? Your studio will be shut down for fire code violations by tomorrow. I’m not threatening you."

Lin Yuan didn’t even turn his head. He just glanced at Wang Qiang with a look of unmasked disdain and dismissal. His gaze pushed past Wang Qiang’s shoulder toward the natural light coming through the window, as if that held more interest than the group of people standing in front of him.

Lin Yuan: "Director Wang, if my restoration art needs to be validated by threats like that, then it’s indeed not worth mentioning. Please move. You’re blocking the sunlight."

Wang Qiang’s face froze. The coffee cup in his hand tilted slightly, dripping a few drops of dark brown liquid onto the carpet. It quickly bled out into an ugly shape, looking absolutely undignified. He snorted through his nose but couldn’t come up with a soft counter-argument. He had no choice but to retreat grudgingly into the shadows, his eyes darkening with a sly, venomous look, like a rattlesnake with its tail stepped on.

Lin Yuan turned around and picked up the porcelain bowl again. He flipped it over and held the base up to the natural light. His fingers moved lightly over the inscription on the bottom, the motion gentle but precise, like he was caressing the skin of an old friend.

Lin Yuan: "Everyone here is calling it Qing Dynasty imperial ware. But I found a clear chronological mismatch in the glaze and the body."

William Chen stopped spinning his pen. His calculating eyes narrowed slightly, locking onto Lin Yuan’s fingers. His previous nonchalant demeanor vanished instantly.

William Chen: "Oh? If it’s not Qing Dynasty, then which dynasty? Tell me. If you’re just making things up, I’ll make sure you remember it for the rest of your life."

Lin Yuan took a deep breath. His voice wasn’t loud, but it reached every person in the room with absolute clarity. He pointed to the faint blue-and-white traces on the bottom, his tone firm, his fingertip tapping the glaze and creating a faint halo of light.

Lin Yuan: "This is the work of an anonymous artisan from the Chenghua period of the Ming Dynasty, not the imperial kiln. The blue-and-white pigment is intense and prone to blackening—that’s the rust spots specific to Su Ma Li material. Qing Dynasty imitations would never have that natural diffusion."

The moment he finished, the crowd, who had been whispering amongst themselves, fell into instant silence. Elder Chen, standing nearby with his hands behind his back, shifted from his casual demeanor to intense focus. A sharp gleam flashed in his hazy eyes. He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to some ancient tone that only he could hear.

Elder Chen: "Interesting."

William Chen’s face instantly darkened. He pulled out a high-power magnifying glass from his pocket and, disregarding his dignity, leaned in close to the bowl. The glaze under the lens reflected a warm, moist sheen. The subtle rust spots were exactly as Lin Yuan said, displaying a stability and weight that spanned hundreds of years, seemingly whispering a buried historical truth.

William Chen: "You know how to date ceramics?"

Lin Yuan straightened up and brushed the dust off his hands. His eyes were open and composed. He adjusted his cuffs, his posture casual but radiating a bone-deep pride.

Lin Yuan: "No. I don’t trust my eyes; I trust data and historical accumulation. The story behind this bowl is more valuable than its price tag."

William Chen slowly pulled the magnifying glass back. The greed and arrogance on his face faded, replaced by a complex scrutiny. The way he looked at Lin Yuan shifted from viewing a commodity waiting for a buyer to studying a worthy opponent. The hostility in the air quietly transformed into a hunter’s interest in its prey.

William Chen: "Let me give you another chance. Five million. Just nod, and I’ll clear your debts and solve your studio’s problems."

Lin Yuan looked at this international antiques magnate, and a genuine smile finally touched his lips. There was no flattery in it, only a detachment beyond material concerns. Sunlight fell on the side of his face, outlining his firm profile.

Lin Yuan: "Mr. Chen, the value of a restorer lies in giving new life to broken things, not in turning them into someone else’s private property. Eight hundred for the labor. That’s respect for the skill and the work. A single penny more makes it a transaction."

Dead silence fell over the room. Five million versus eight hundred. It wasn’t just a price comparison; it was a chasm in perspective. Su Qing, standing at the back of the crowd, her expression previously arrogant like a swan’s, completely crumbled. She stared at Lin Yuan, frozen. The high wall that had stood in her mind developed a massive crack at that exact moment, and the wind was blowing in, tangling her hair.

Su Qing: "Eight hundred?"

Lin Yuan ignored the gasps from others. Deep in his consciousness, a crisp system notification suddenly rang out.

System: "Detected host upholding cultural integrity, resisting capital coercion. Completion level surging. Awarded 500 National Fortune Points. Automatically exchanged for 'Advanced Ancient Restoration' skill book."

Lin Yuan closed his eyes. Instantly, a massive flood of ancient restoration techniques poured into his mind, especially detailed analysis of stress distribution and microscopic glaze structures. That ancient wisdom washed over his nerves like a tide, bringing a unprecedented sense of clarity. He opened his eyes, his gaze sharp as lightning, sweeping over a barely noticeable curve on the edge of the bowl.

Lin Yuan: "However, while the dating is accurate, there is a hidden micro-crack under the glaze layer, on the right side, just below the rim."

William Chen furrowed his brow and raised the magnifying glass to inspect it again. Under the boost of the 'Advanced Ancient Restoration' skill, Lin Yuan could clearly perceive the structural stress inside the porcelain. Even the most subtle potential hazards were nowhere to hide, as if the cracks were whispering complaints on his fingertips.

William Chen: "Where?"

Lin Yuan lightly tapped the spot with his finger, with absolute confidence.

Lin Yuan: "The tension here hasn’t been fully released. If it withstands high heat or a heavy impact, it will shatter instantly. I recommend internal reinforcement before displaying it."

William Chen stared at the nearly invisible crack. The last shred of his arrogance was completely shattered. He put the magnifying glass down and extended his hand to Lin Yuan. The motion still carried a merchant’s pragmatism, but his eyes held a new layer of genuine respect. His hand was hot, a sharp contrast to Lin Yuan’s dry palm.

William Chen: "Mr. Lin. I’m inviting you as a special guest to the International Appraisal Contest next week."

Lin Yuan shook his hand, his palm dry and firm, neither servile nor arrogant.

Lin Yuan: "I only repair vessels; I don’t chase fame. Whether I make it or not depends on my skill."

Elder Chen, who had been standing in the shadows with his hands behind his back, finally walked forward slowly. His steps were heavy and slow. His figure stretched long in the shadow before he stepped into the bright light. His gaze swept back and forth between Lin Yuan and William Chen, finally settling on Lin Yuan’s young yet calm face.

Elder Chen: "Kid, you’ve got some nerve."

Lin Yuan turned and looked at this top-tier cultural relic restorer. A subtle ripple flashed in his eyes. He instinctively leaned back, trying to maintain a safe distance, his spine straight as a rod.

Elder Chen: "Knowing how to date things isn’t enough. Real restoration is about handling extreme conditions."

Elder Chen stopped, took a perfectly fitted black wooden box from his assistant, and held it out to Lin Yuan. As the box opened, a cool, ancient scent wafted out. Inside lay a fragmentary Song Dynasty jade disk, the broken edges sharp as if cut by a knife, shocking to the eye.

Elder Chen: "This is a jade disk from the reign of Emperor Huizong of Song. It’s missing a piece. If you can repair it without leaving any trace, then we’ll talk about the rest."

Lin Yuan didn’t rush to touch the jade disk. Instead, he took a deep breath, completely immersing his mind in that cool, ancient aura. He lightly tapped the broken edge with his fingertip, feeling the subtle grain of the jade inside, as if listening to the breath of an artisan from a thousand years ago. William Chen watched from the side, assuming this was just posturing. But he saw Lin Yuan take an extremely fine goat-hair brush from his tool box and dip it in a specially prepared paste. Instead of filling it directly, he first traced an invisible skeletal layer along the fracture.

Elder Chen’s brow twitched, his eyes like torches, fixed on Lin Yuan’s wrist. The brush moved along the edge of the break without a single hesitation. The air pressure seemed to solidify. The assistant held his breath, afraid to even blink loudly. Lin Yuan’s expression didn’t change. His wrist turned lightly, the tip of the brush moving like a dragon skimming water. With the final stroke, the gap blended seamlessly into the whole, as if the missing piece had never existed.

Elder Chen slowly closed the wooden box. A very faint curve lifted at the corner of his mouth. The smile didn’t reach his eyes; it carried a dangerous chill instead.

"Interesting."

He lowered his voice so only Lin Yuan could hear: "But that’s just the appetizer. In three days, I’ll let you touch a true 'masterpiece.' Remember, if your hand shakes, you’ll never leave this restoration room."