Xu Jia touched his pocket and found only two thousand yuan "extorted" from Song Xin.
Money is tight.
Not enough to buy half a wind chime.
Of course Liu Haoran knew that Xu Jia was short of money.
Seeing Xu Jia touching his pocket, he hurriedly took out his wallet and offered to pay Xu Jia's bill.
To him, tens of thousands of yuan is just the cost of a meal.
Zhang Yunxiang went to take the money with a smile on his face, but Xu Jia snatched it back.
"Little brother, what are you..."
Zhang Yunxiang grabbed the opportunity and his smile became stiff.
Xu Jia looked around and said, "Boss Zhang, don't be anxious now. I'll see if there are any other good items. If I choose them, we'll pay the bill together. Just greet the others and I'll let Brother Liu take me around."
"That...that's fine!"
Zhang Yunxiang was wondering: Could it be that this boy has discovered something?
impossible!
Looking at him like this, he is just a baby.
Zhang Yunxiang was full of doubts, but he was in no hurry, so he had to go and greet others.
Liu Haoran asked doubtfully: "Brother, why are you so outspoken? Why are you so polite about a trivial matter of tens of thousands of dollars?"
Xu Jia said: "Brother Liu doesn't understand. The wind chime I bought is useful. I have to buy it myself, otherwise it won't work. Even if you pay the bill for me, it won't work."
Liu Haoran frowned: "Then you have no money? Why bother so much?"
Xu Jia looked mysterious: "I have money."
Liu Haoran was very confused: "Where is the money?"
Xu Jia looked at his watch: "Didn't you see that my Yintang is red and the roots of the mountain are faintly purplish? In about half an hour, the money came to my door, and there was quite a lot of it."
"Brothers will meet again?"
Liu Haoran knew that Xu Jia was not an ordinary person, but he didn't expect that he could even understand physiognomy.
But I was also curious in my heart: Who would take the initiative to give money to Xu Jia?
Liu Haoran walked around with Xu Jia, looked at his watch, and smiled gloatingly at Xu Jia: "Brother, it's almost half an hour, why hasn't the money giver come yet?"
Xu Jia smiled slightly and pointed to the door: "Look, the money sender is here."
By chance, a man dressed as a migrant worker came in at the door.
He is around fifty years old and has a dusty life.
His pants were washed white, he was wearing a pair of rag shoes, and his face was filled with vicissitudes of life.
Liu Haoran shook his head: "Brother, is he here to give you money? Don't tease me."
Xu Jia smiled mysteriously: "You will know in a moment."
The migrant worker stood shyly at the door and asked timidly: "Do you accept... calligraphy and painting here?"
"Take it!"
Several clerks hurriedly came forward to greet the migrant workers.
"I have an ancestral painting here. Boss, how much is it worth?"
Seeing the crowd, the migrant workers were very timid and did not dare to enter the house, so they squatted at the door, opened the package, and unfolded a painting on the ground.
The scroll is one meter long and half a meter wide when unfolded. It is a picture of the rising sun in the countryside.
Many people cheered and gathered around.
I saw that this painting has a delicate style, a broad perspective, curling smoke, a layout that is typical of everyone, the characters are lifelike, the character is strong, and the brushwork is unique.
But the strange thing is that this painting has no seal, that is, no signature.
Zhang Yunxiang squatted on the ground with a magnifying glass and carefully looked at it inch by inch. He pondered for a long time, squinting his eyes and shaking his head.
The migrant worker looked at Zhang Yunxiang and shook his head, his body trembling nervously.
Xu Jia had a mysterious smile on his face and said to Liu Haoran: "Brother Liu, aren't you very knowledgeable about calligraphy and painting? What do you think of this painting?"
Liu Haoran studied calligraphy and painting very deeply and said confidently: "Brother, although the layout of this painting is good, the painting style is full of ancient meaning, the material is old, it probably came from the Ming Dynasty, and the concept is also unique. But..."
He changed the subject: "I know a lot about calligraphy and painting in the Ming Dynasty. The style of this painting is very close to Chen Daolin, a master of calligraphy and painting, but Chen Daolin is too famous and there are many imitators."
"There is no seal on this painting, and the painting is slightly blurry, as if it is covered with a layer of fog. With these two imperfections, we can conclude that this painting is a fake, presumably copied by an ancient scholar."
Liu Haoran's words caused the audience to nod in agreement.
Among them there are also masters who are proficient in calligraphy and painting, and their evaluations are generally the same as those of Liu Haoran.
The migrant worker was very anxious after hearing everyone's assertion that the treasure was fake. He stamped his feet and stammered in retort: "This is an ancestral treasure of our family. It must be real. Don't bully me for being uneducated..."
"You are right, this painting is 100% fake."
After Zhang Yunxiang finished the appraisal, the cunning light in his eyes flashed away. He put the painting away and threw it to the migrant workers with disdain. He shook his head repeatedly: "What is passed down from ancestors? This is obviously a fake. It is a copy of Chen Daolin's paintings by later generations. Where is it?"
baby?"
Migrant workers were anxious: "This must not be a fake..."
Zhang Yunxiang sneered: "I have been immersed in this industry for decades, when did I pass by? I said it was a fake, but it is 100% fake. This painting of yours is worthless. Throw it away quickly."
"Ah? Is it really a fake?"
The migrant worker squatted at the door, took out his dry pipe, took a few puffs, and frowned: "Hey, I expected to sell this painting to cure my son's migraine, but it turned out to be a fake? I can't live this life...
…”
Zhang Yunxiang delayed for a long time, and then spoke at the right time: "It turns out that I sold the painting to treat my son's illness. Poor parents in the world! Forget it, who made me soft-hearted? Well, for two hundred yuan, I bought this painting.
"
"Two hundred dollars?"
The migrant worker was confused: "That's it?"
"Not enough?"
Zhang Yunxiang waved his hand in disgust: "To tell you the truth, your paintings are worthless, they are just rubbish. No one in this antique street will buy your paintings. For two hundred yuan, if you want to sell it, you can sell it. If you don't, you can get out."
Stay away, I'm too lazy to serve you."
"this……"
The migrant worker felt so uncomfortable that he wanted to leave, but he didn't get the money. He still had to wait for money for his son's medical treatment.
But selling an ancestral painting for 200 yuan is too cheap.
Zhang Yunxiang saw the migrant worker's entangled expression and knew he was going to be defeated.
Zhang Yunxiang is an expert at making fakes.
To be honest, although this painting is not Chen Daolin's masterpiece, it is a vivid copy.
If it weren't for the lack of seals and the vague feeling on the surface of the painting, he almost believed that it was Chen Daolin's original work.
"I have processed this painting and added the seal. Although the painting is blurry, if you meet a collector who really likes Chen Daolin's masterpiece, it can be sold for at least 200,000 yuan."
"How's it going? Have you thought about it?"
Zhang Yunxiang narrowed his eyes and said, "Sell it to me, and it's still worth two hundred yuan, but if you leave my house, your painting will be worthless, it'll just be rubbish."
"good!"
The migrant worker gritted his teeth, stood up, held the painting, and walked towards Zhang Yunxiang.
Zhang Yunxiang smiled in his heart and reached out to pick up the painting...
Halfway through, he stretched out a big hand, took one step ahead, and snatched the painting away.
Zhang Yunxiang looked up at Xu Jia, his face turned cold: "Little brother, what do you mean?"
"Means nothing."
Xu Jia smiled faintly: "This painting... I bought it!"
"You buy it?" Zhang Yunxiang blurted out and asked: "Why do you buy it?"
Xu Jia threw a wad of money into the arms of the migrant workers: "Because I paid two thousand yuan."
Zhang Yunxiang was immediately dumbfounded.
It’s over, the cooked duck flew away...(To be continued)