Chapter 12: Worthy of Legend

He remained silent, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Though her attire was plain and elegant, she outshone all the rouge and powder of countless others. The aura she exuded was becoming ever more alike to that of a certain someone. In that fleeting moment of beauty, his heart, usually so calm, was stirred with ripples. If one could come back from death, they ought to be as vivid and lively as the person before him.

Only by gazing at the moon’s reflection in the water could he find relief from the pain lodged in his heart.

The scene was abuzz with discussion, or else rendered utterly silent in some corners, seats gripped by shock. Yet not a single person dared speak to appraise the artifact. With such a significant item, a mistaken judgment would ruin the reputation of one’s auction house throughout half the high society of the capital—a stone cast upon one’s own foot. Even the experts were cautious.

It was only when Zhong Hua Yan spoke, her words flowing naturally and gently like a mountain spring, that the silence broke.

“The Bodhisattva listens at once to the sound of the world, clad in yellow skin and crimson kasaya. This ancient wooden statue of Guanyin is a Water-Moon Guanyin from the Liao dynasty.

The sitting posture is the ‘Water-Moon pose,’ drawn from the Avatamsaka Sutra. The Liao and Jin peoples were originally nomads, descended from those who once dominated the Xiongnu. Later, the Liao and Jin dynasties converted to Buddhism and built countless temples. This statue has endured the passage of time, weathered by the ages.”

Everyone was stunned, watching as she stepped forward, her bearing transcendent and luminous. Dressed in white, her simple robe reflected the golden Sanskrit script, imbuing her with a priceless radiance as she stood as though she understood the words spoken by Guanyin herself.

“No, this statue should be from the Ming dynasty. Its polychrome painting doesn’t match the products of the Liao era!” One attendee spoke up after the heated auction debate.

The room divided into two camps. The experts moved forward, offering professional perspectives: the Ming dynasty produced many Guanyin statues, and the coloring matched those works. Though the pose resembled the auspicious Water-Moon Guanyin, it was flawed, and more discussion was needed. If it were from the Ming dynasty, its value would be greatly diminished.

Fu Yan Yan cared little about which dynasty the statue originated from. In the end, it would be donated to the bureau of cultural relics regardless. Better to spend extra and buy too many than to let even one slip away. He glanced again at Li Yan Yan, noting her apparent erudition.

But he had underestimated her; she was far more than learned.

Zhong Hua Yan sipped fine rock tea, her words resonant and authoritative.

“You auction houses focus so much on professional appraisal that you become rigid. At a glance, you should notice the most remarkable feature of this Guanyin statue: a female face with a male body!

Before the Tang dynasty, Guanyin was mostly depicted as male. Only after Empress Wu Zetian ascended the throne did the image gradually shift to a feminine face.

And this transitional period could only have occurred in the era closest to the Tang—the Liao dynasty—where such female-faced, male-bodied statues appeared.

As for the polychrome painting, it was likely a Ming dynasty restoration, but the piece itself is undoubtedly from the Liao era. This is a truly valuable item.”

Suddenly, the surroundings fell eerily silent—not because she was incorrect, but because she was right.

Ten auction houses were terrified, rushing forward to reappraise the item for fear of missing out.

“Though the young lady’s words are on point, we can reassess, but it’s too early to reach a definitive conclusion,” the owner of the western capital’s auction house said, preserving the dignity of all the auction houses.

He was not wrong; appraising antiquities is never settled in a few words.

Zhong Hua Yan had no intention of forcing their hand. She explained gently,

“This Guanyin statue was once misjudged as Ming in Europe and America. I am certain it is a product of the Liao dynasty, though whether it is the legendary Water-Moon Guanyin needs further investigation. Based on its appearance, I am inclined to believe it is authentic.”

The auction house owner continued sipping tea, jesting, “No wonder Mr. Li invited this young lady—she’s not only breathtakingly beautiful, but quite learned as well.”

“Young lady, would you consider working at our auction house?”

She was uninterested and declined the offer outright. These owners appeared cordial, but beneath the surface they competed ruthlessly, engaging in shady dealings she wanted no part of.

“Today was simply good fortune. Mr. Li’s friend invited me to appraise items, and I happened to speak more than expected. I hope I haven’t disturbed your enjoyment.”

Zhong Hua Yan felt genuinely gratified. This Water-Moon Guanyin was a global treasure; she had heard it discussed by international friends, but seeing it in person was incomparable.

If it was purchased from abroad, it was unlikely that Mr. Li’s resources could have covered it.

She glanced toward the seat of honor, mysterious and inscrutable. Could it be that this person had bought it?

Xu Yao Chuan, rarely so serious, silently observed the girl, finding her image worlds apart from what his sister had described, and utterly different from her demeanor at the birthday party. In earnest, she was elegant and wise, truly talented—he was compelled to admire her.

“Mr. Fu, Miss Li is truly remarkable; a few days apart, and she’s an entirely different person,” his assistant remarked, thinking that with this momentum, Miss Li might soon repay the millions she owed the boss.

Fu Yan Yan betrayed no emotion. His black embroidered garment and sandalwood cologne lent him a grandeur equal to the imposing Guanyin statue. Yet his eyes harbored a certain illness, and as he gazed at the figure opposite him, his mind was in turmoil, briefly entertaining a terrifying thought—before quickly dismissing it.

A Hua’s temperament was aloof and cold, never one for outrageous deeds. She preferred studying stocks, sharp-tongued but soft-hearted, and sparing in conversation. Her innate refusal to lose and rebellious spirit was somehow uncannily vivid.

Yet once the seed of doubt is sown, it grows madly, rooting and sprouting.

One sharp-eyed auction expert posed a pointed question.

“Miss Li, you come from an ordinary family and are still quite young. How is it you can so quickly and accurately determine the origins of such antiquities?”

The lively discussion at the table suddenly fell quiet. At last, someone had asked an interesting question.

At her age, to possess knowledge of astronomy and geography, and to accurately identify an artifact in ten seconds—it was nothing short of legendary.

“I traveled far and wide with my uncle from a young age. He once owned an antique shop and loved collecting rare treasures. I was immersed in this world, never fond of academic study, spending all my time delving into these obscure disciplines. My dream is to see all the treasures of the world and write a book that will endure through the ages.”

Nonsense.

Fu Yan Yan’s lips curled upward. Had he not investigated her background, he might have been taken in.

The others believed her.

Even Xu Yao Chuan regarded her with new respect; few women specialized in this field. Though she bore a resemblance to his former fiancée, she was far superior to the type obsessed with business plans and money—so much more free-spirited and individualistic!

“I’ve already finished my meal and have kept everyone long enough. I’ll take my leave now.”

Everyone looked at her, wondering about her relationship with the Xu family’s young master.

Originally, they thought she was merely basking in the Xu family’s glory—a decorative presence here to broaden her horizons. Unexpectedly, she proved herself, showing real ability.

“Miss Li, would you honor us by visiting my home to view other antiquities?”

The voice was soft but thunderous.

The auction house owners fell silent, gazing toward the foremost seat behind the white silk curtain, unable to see the man’s face.

That voice… She recognized it—it was Fu Yan Yan.

Suddenly, she recalled that Li Yang’s father had worked for the Fu family, building temples.

Could it be that this Water-Moon Guanyin statue was purchased abroad by Fu Yan Yan himself…