Chapter 19: Trapped in a Scheme

"Ah? So it's just one of his rough drafts, a reject, and later, dissatisfied, he painted a new one?"

"That’s essentially it. As for appraising it, it would fetch a higher price overseas. Probably in the range of a hundred thousand or so… But you'd need to go to a specialized foreign authentication institution to prove it's by Du Peilei. If it were the original, genuine piece, the price would be in the millions."

[Such detail? Not only can they tell if it’s an authentic work, but they can also discern if it’s a reject?]

[Wow, is this for real? I'm from an authentication institution myself—seems a bit suspicious.]

[This is marketing, right? Find a pretty woman, bring in a few shills, hype it up, and profit from the attention.]

Zhong Huayan faced these doubts nearly every day in her livestream.

It was expected: she’d stolen their business, and now her stream’s viewership was at unprecedented heights—fifty thousand people!

Most viewers joined because friends shared the stream or because the cover was strikingly beautiful.

“To clarify, I am not affiliated with any media company, nor am I part of any guild. If there is any fraudulent content in my livestream intended for profit, I am willing to accept legal responsibility.”

Her statement triggered a flurry of gifts across the screen!

“Alright, let's connect with the next caller.”

On screen appeared a neatly dressed elderly woman, who produced a purple-blue ceramic vase. “Young lady, tell me, is this imperial ware?”

With a glance, Zhong Huayan replied, “Ma’am, your piece looks quite old, the glaze is warm and smooth. Could I see the base?”

The old lady eagerly turned it over.

“Alright, I think I’ve got it. The base is a classic ‘sesame paste’ from the Qianlong period. Many crafts of that era have string patterns and gentle texture—not imperial ware, but such items were used by nobles and officials. Where did you acquire it, ma’am?”

“I came to the capital seventy years ago. Wages were just a few dozen yuan, and I picked up this piece for a few yuan. Now, seeing your stream, I thought I’d ask. I’ll go to an authentication institution when I have time.”

After considering, Zhong Huayan replied, “Well, you’re in luck. Its value has multiplied.”

The elderly woman smiled, exited the stream, and gifted her several virtual items.

“Next. Let’s see what treasures this gentleman has—he’s been showering me with gifts.”

She clicked on the top donor, who had sent nearly ten thousand yuan worth of presents in just over ten minutes.

Suddenly, the screen went black and then flashed to reveal a wall lined with dazzling ceramics, bowls, and vases, astonishing the comment section.

Had Zhong Huayan not spent her previous life collecting antiques, and only days ago viewed countless pieces at Fu Yanyan’s home, she would have been stunned herself.

But as the camera zoomed in, she scrutinized the collection and paused. “Is it alright to speak frankly? Sir, many of your items are fake.”

“Fake?”

The man on the other end stood up and began placing the variously shaped ceramics before the camera.

“Where did you get these, sir?”

“A company went bankrupt, couldn’t pay its debts, so these items were used to settle. Does this add up to seven million? When I went to authentication institutions, they wanted to examine each piece—too time-consuming.”

“Just from a quick look, none of these are genuine.”

She continued candidly, “You… may have walked into a trap.”

The man picked up a small bowl, its base marked ‘Made during Yongle’s reign.’

“This bowl was appraised by several experts—three said it was real, one said fake.”

“This bowl is definitely fake. I don’t know where you found those appraisers, but you’ve likely been misled.”

As she finished, and the man prepared to disconnect, her gaze caught a large black wooden block beside him, at least a meter long and half a meter wide.

“Wait! Sir, could you show me that black wood behind you?”

“That was used as decoration in my villa.”

“This wood is submerged timber, faded from oxidation—once submerged underwater, quite a large piece. This is worth far more than the ceramics; it could easily fetch several hundred thousand.”

The man proudly raised his thumb, explaining, “I bought it for only a hundred thousand, through a friend. Later, it changed color, and when the company needed funds, I sold the villa and moved the wood here.”

With the process complete, gifts continued to flood in.

[Streamer, you only appraise, don’t buy items?]

[Yeah, do you buy items? My grandmother has a bunch of unidentified stones.]

[Streamer, I’m overseas with a batch of large items—when will you have a look? Every authentication institution gives me a different answer, I’m lost.]

She went on to review more than twenty items—fakes outnumbered the genuine, most picked up from flea markets, received from friends, or bought online.

She was suddenly a little tired and glanced at the time—nearly ten o’clock.

“I livestream every night. Thank you for your gifts. If you want your items appraised tomorrow, message me privately.”

After closing the stream, Zhong Huayan saw her follower count had increased by thirty thousand—faster than ever.

But the income from gifts hadn’t grown as quickly—seven thousand yuan in total, still a considerable sum.

Perhaps it was her good looks, strong professional knowledge, and a stroke of luck that brought her such rapid popularity.

As always, she caught the bus, savoring the ordinary joys of life—steaming buns and soy milk, relishing this hidden vibrancy within the city.

Entering her classroom, she found her classmates staring at her in disbelief.

Finally, a few couldn’t hold back and approached, asking, “Are you really going to compete with Xu Yuan on piano?”

“Do you actually know Kunqu dance?”

“You’re really not afraid? Xu Yuan has the Xu family backing her—if you can’t beat her, she could ruin you!”

Zhong Huayan swung her bag onto the back of her chair with ease. “Xu Yuan’s tormented me for so long and I’m still here—what’s there to fear?”

Everyone knew how Xu Yuan treated her.

But until now, they’d turned a blind eye. Thinking it over, they could only remark, “Actually, you’re quite tough.”

Zhong Huayan chuckled quietly. In this numb society, if she hadn’t crossed souls, would the original’s death have stirred even a shred of compassion?

“I’m not afraid of Xu Yuan. What’s the scoring system for the art festival?”

Everyone was stunned. Then those in the front row crowded around, chattering, “You should pay more attention! How dare you challenge her without knowing the scoring?”

“On the day of the art festival, chairpersons from the city’s singing, dance, and drama associations will be present. They hold fifty percent of the decision-making power—the other fifty percent comes from votes cast by every student, right on their phones.”