"My family is in the antique business, I can tell if this bowl is real or not at a glance!"
The man exuded an air of erudition, and his traditional Chinese attire made him quite convincing.
The street vendor glared at Jiang Man and handed the bowl to the man.
The man took it and carefully examined it.
The onlooking crowd was buzzing with comments, all eager for gossip.
"How is it? Is it real or fake?"
"If I'm not mistaken, this bowl is from the Ming Xuande period, right? I remember a Chinese person bought this bowl at a high price of 260,000."
"What an eye you have, Master! You're absolutely right, this is the blue and white porcelain bowl that the Chinese bought. His servant stole the bowl and sold it to the antique market. After changing hands several times, it ended up with me!" the street vendor said proudly, thumbing his nose.
"Brother, do you believe it now?"
One was a middle-aged man dressed in a way that made him look like a professional in the field, while the other was a young girl barely in her twenties.
Which one carried more weight was obvious without saying.
"You little girl, don't talk nonsense and smash people's signs, that's just mean!"
"Exactly, exactly, antiques are not for someone your age, what do you know?"
"A treasure worth 260,000 selling for just 20,000? Brother, you've struck gold!"
"Brother, if you don't want it, I do!"
Some in the crowd were already itching to scan the QR code to make the purchase.
The elder, upon hearing this, immediately opened the QR code scanner: "First come, first served. I'll take this bowl."
"Well said! Well said!" the street vendor said, beaming with joy: "I'll wrap it up for you."
After uttering those words, he shot a provocative look at Jiang Man and rudely shoved her: "Go on, get lost!"
Ordinarily, Jiang Man considered herself not to be a meddler.
But the vendor had a foul mouth, daring to tell her to roll?
Before the vendor could wrap the bowl, Jiang Man, quick as lightning, snatched it and slammed it hard onto the ground.
Crash...
The bowl shattered into pieces.
Silence fell over the scene instantly, deathly quiet.
The onlooking crowd thought the young girl had gone mad, to smash a piece of antique worth 260,000?
"Nice! You're smashing my goods, eh? Fine! Pay up! If you don't pay today, you're not leaving!" The street vendor's face turned red with anger as he grabbed Jiang Man's arm, preventing her from leaving.
Jiang Man snorted coldly, very calm, took out her phone, and said indifferently, "I have no money, why don't we just call the police? Oh no, this should be handled by the Consumer Association, since you sell fakes and deceive consumers."
With that, she started dialing the number.
"Also, this so-called expert, he's in cahoots with you, right? You two playing a duet, you really think others can't see through you?" Jiang Man pulled at the corner of her mouth.
"This fake bowl is obviously imitating Chenghua blue and white porcelain. Chenghua blue and white porcelain falls into two categories. One is similar to Xuande blue and white porcelain, while the other is thin-bodied, with white glaze and delicate blue coloration. Uncle, if you come from an antique family, how can you not even tell the difference?"
"I... I just misread it, it's so dark today, how can you see clearly?" The bearded man hurriedly explained.
Hearing this, Jiang Man laughed sarcastically: "My word is final? This is neither Xuande blue and white porcelain nor Chenghua blue and white porcelain. This is Jiajing blue and white porcelain, which has a purplish tinge within its blue coloration, rich and vibrant—it's cloisonné!"
"Yes, yes, it's cloisonné!" The bearded man had lost all his composure.
Jiang Man almost died laughing: "You don't know shit about the business, do you? Cloisonné is made with enamel, it's not even ceramic. And you agree with me, agree with what! I just bluff and you reveal your true colors!"
"So it really is a scam!" someone in the crowd pulled out their phone to search and found the bearded man was indeed talking nonsense.
"In broad daylight, scamming and cheating, they should be locked up for a good ten days to half a month." Jiang Man raised her eyebrows, her smile quite sinister.
Seeing that she was really about to call the police, the street vendor and the bearded man didn't even bother to pack up the pile of fake goods on the ground, they simply took to their heels and ran.
Jiang Man glanced at the bottles and jars on the ground, figuring that all together they might be worth a mere hundred yuan at most.
These crooks are ruthless, with a hundred yuan in costs, to scam an elderly person out of tens of thousands, utterly heartless and crazed.
"Call the police, call the police! We can't let others get scammed!"
The onlookers said.
Jiang Man curled her lips, shook her head, hands in pockets, and turned to walk away.
To her, what had just happened was nothing more than a bit of excitement.
But she hadn't gone far when the elderly man caught up to her, "Young lady, wait a moment!"
"Hmm? Is there something else?" Jiang Man was surprised.
The elderly man pulled out his wallet and from it, he took out a dozen red banknotes: "Thank you for today, otherwise I would have been cheated out of twenty thousand yuan for nothing."
"It was nothing." Jiang Man acted as if money meant little to her.
"Take this money, consider it a token of my gratitude." The old man insisted on giving Jiang Man the money.
Jiang Man was at a loss whether to laugh or cry: "Really, it's not necessary."
As she was pushing back, refusing the money, a Bentley pulled up beside them.
A man in a floral shirt exited the vehicle, looking to be in his twenties, with all the airs of a wealthy playboy.
Hands in pockets, he stepped behind the old man: "Grandpa, is this the granny you've found for me? You chose someone so young?"
"You rascal, what nonsense are you spouting!" The old man, furiously puffing out his whiskers, glared and gave the young man a slap.
"Don't take offense, miss, this is my disrespectful grandson."
Jiang Man glanced at the man in the floral shirt, unenthusiastic: "Grandpa, I have things to do, I'll be leaving."
With that, she left without looking back.
"Grandpa, what's really going on? You giving that girl money, it's hard for me not to have dirty thoughts." Song Xiao still had a mischievous smile on his face.
Song Wenzhi, puffed up with anger, recounted the whole incident to his grandson in detail.
After hearing the story, Song Xiao was incredulous: "Her? She knows so much? Grandpa, I suspect this is a scam—they teamed up to trick you."
"You are the renowned calligrapher Song Wenzhi, often on TV, a household name! I don't believe that girl didn't recognize you."
"A scam? What nonsense is in that head of yours?" The old Mr. Song rolled his eyes in exasperation and no longer wanted to deal with his grandson.
Especially when he saw him dressed up like a butterfly, it only added to his headache.
The Song Family had been a family of scholars for generations, and with nine generations of sole inheritance, how had it come to this—to have such an undutiful descendant?
"It's time to find you a wife to keep you in line! That young lady from before wouldn't be a bad choice."
"Not bad? What are you talking about?" Song Xiao immediately made a sour face, "I said she has ulterior motives, Grandpa, don't disbelieve me."
"Get lost!" Old Mr. Song got huffily into the Bentley and instructed the driver to move on, leaving his irreverent grandson in the floral shirt by the roadside.
"Hey Grandpa, don't leave me here, are you going to make me walk home? Huh?"
A cloud of exhaust sprayed in his face, leaving Song Xiao in a very sorry state.
Damn! It was all that wretched girl's fault, popping out of nowhere, bringing bad luck!
Song Xiao took out his phone and dialed a number: "Zhou, come out for a drink with a brother, will you? My old man dumped me by the road, I'm near your place now. Let me tell you, it's bad luck, just ran into a girl who's full of scams!"