Volume One, Chapter 22: Clash

To put it plainly, all kinds of awards had nothing to do with him anymore. He didn’t care about prizes; he could do without the Good Citizen Award, but the money had to be given. Jiang Chen was rather vexed, his mood plunging sharply.

On the stage, Sun Yingxiong, seeing that the atmosphere was sufficiently warmed, cleared his throat and solemnly said, “Of course, I must thank the Ye family for their support in making tonight’s banquet a success. I am truly honored that Second Young Master Ye is here to grace the occasion.”

Ye Qingming smiled faintly, acknowledging the words.

Many of those present had come not only to broaden their horizons but also to seize the opportunity to establish connections with the Ye family. Even a brief conversation with them would be considered worthwhile.

Sun Yingxiong continued, “Now, I will bring out a few treasures from my personal collection for everyone to admire. If anyone wishes to acquire any of them, feel free to propose a price. If suitable, it’ll add some fun to the evening.”

Jiang Chen caught the implication; the old man was clearly ready to bleed.

“The first item is a Gold Brocade Bowl I acquired from an old friend overseas.”

As the staff brought the item forward, nearly everyone held their breath.

The golden bowl, crafted from fine threads of gold, radiated nobility from top to bottom.

“My goodness, this is exquisite! The craftsmanship—it resembles the style of Tang Dynasty artisan Gong Sunhong. Remarkable, truly remarkable.”

Among the crowd were experts in antiques who immediately recognized that what Sun Yingxiong held was no ordinary object.

Sun Yingxiong’s goal achieved, he laughed heartily. “It seems we have many connoisseurs here tonight. Indeed, this is the handiwork of Gong Sunhong, master craftsman of the Tang Dynasty. Master Gong Sun left behind only two pieces in his lifetime: one is housed in the Daxia Museum, and the other is this very bowl!”

“Mr. Sun, this golden bowl is priceless. You’re really putting this up? That’s quite generous,” Ma Minglong remarked from the side of the hall.

Sun Yingxiong waved his hand. “Everyone’s here as a favor to me. It’s only right to give something back. Please, bid as you wish—the highest offer wins!”

Ma Minglong rubbed his hands, unable to contain his excitement. “Then I won’t stand on ceremony—ten million!”

“Fifteen million!”

“Twenty million!”

...

Jiang Chen had no interest in the ongoing bids. Just then, Jiang Ning slowly squeezed her way over.

“That bowl is beautiful,” Jiang Ning said, lifting her face with envy.

Jiang Chen nodded. “Indeed.”

Jiang Ning sighed. “It’s a shame. My dad won’t let me spend recklessly. Otherwise, I’d definitely buy it, put it on my bedside table, and admire it every morning. That would make me so happy.”

“Really? A little trinket would make you that happy?” Jiang Chen thought the child’s joy was rather simple.

Jiang Ning’s mood dimmed as she explained, “I don’t have many friends. Usually, I like to collect antiques—especially figurines, porcelain, and ironwork. But they’re all pretty cheap.”

Jiang Chen understood; this girl was much like himself. When he studied alone on the mountain, his only companion was a sword. Bored, he would talk to it, and over time, even though it couldn’t respond, he treated it as a friend.

“You truly like it?”

Jiang Ning glanced at him. “Of course! Who wouldn’t like something so beautiful? But the price has reached thirty-one million—far too much.”

Jiang Chen made a sound and then spoke up, “Fifty million. I’ll take the bowl!”

A collective gasp swept the room. “Fifty million—whose young master is so extravagant?”

“Fifty million?! Even if it’s made by Gong Sunhong of the Tang Dynasty, that’s a bit much.”

“Who is he, anyway? Doesn’t look familiar.”

“Look at his attire—so casual. Surely not from the capital.”

Jiang Ning’s eyes widened in shock, not delight. The boy who’d happily accepted her ten thousand yuan for carrying clothes could now offer fifty million?

“Shh! Fifty million for a bowl—hardly worth it!”

The room fell silent, and Jiang Chen, with that single bid, drew every eye.

Sun Yingxiong ran through the names of prominent young men in Qingcheng but couldn’t place this one. Clearly, he wasn’t within his circles.

“Fifty million, cash. Can you actually pay? If you’re just trying to impress a girl, it takes more than words,” Ma Minglong seized the moment to challenge him.

Though he feared Ning Rou might come over again, he knew he had to vent his frustration today or lose the chance forever.

Zhou Hua, who’d also been slapped earlier, chimed in, “Exactly. If you can’t pay, don’t bid. You’re disturbing the order and killing everyone’s mood.”

Ning Rou walked over at that moment and said, “Are you crazy? Fifty million? I can give you thirty million at most.”

Her funds were restricted by her family. She could manage fifty million, but it would require tapping into company assets. For this pay-and-deliver deal, he’d need time to gather the money.

Su Yike also came over, holding her dress, but with a bank card in hand. “Jiang Chen, I have fifty million here. Use it if you need.”

Jiang Chen looked at them and couldn’t help but laugh. “Fifty million—it's not that much.”

Sun Yingxiong, seeing Jiang Chen’s confidence, declared, “Since this young man has offered fifty million, the golden bowl now belongs to him!”

He paused, then added, “However... the fifty million must be paid in person, as per the banquet’s rules. Any objections?”

Jiang Chen replied, “None, but I need to make a phone call.”

They didn’t believe Jiang Chen could produce fifty million, thinking he was stalling. If he truly had the funds, he would have produced them already; why the need for a call? After all, fifty million was nothing to them.

Jiang Chen pulled out another phone from his jacket—its design entirely transparent, allowing one to see straight through it. There wasn’t a single electronic component inside, yet, bizarrely, the phone lit up and worked.

He dialed a number; it rang twice before being answered.

“Boss?! You finally picked up! We missed you so much. The island’s boring. Where to next? Assassination in Sakura Country? Or sabotage in the Beautiful Country?”

Jiang Chen’s tone became calm. “I’ll send you an account number in a moment. Transfer three hundred million to it. I’ll call if there’s anything else. For now, start your assignment.”

“Understood, Boss! Mission guaranteed!”