He's Actually A Sexy Girl? I Erected!

Chapter 148: 【148】Three thousand? Are you kidding me?_1
Tang Feng got up early the next day.

There was an unread WeChat message on his phone, sent by Qin Yanan, around twelve o’clock last night.

The message contained only two brief words—”Thank you.”

He guessed she must have woken up hungry in the middle of the night and was moved to tears after seeing the meal he had left behind, which prompted her to send the message.

He could even imagine the contented little expression on her face as she ate his lovingly prepared dinner.

But his smile soon faded, because following the words “Thank you,” there was another voice message.

After he opened it, he heard Qin Yanan’s gentle voice say, “Don’t bother next time; it uses quite a bit of electricity.”

Her words instantly enraged him.

What did she mean by that? Did she think his cooking was a waste of electricity?

Her own cooking was so awful, what right did she have to criticize him?

He almost rushed up to argue with her right then and there.

But then he thought it over, realizing she had just been sick yesterday and was probably still feeling weak today.

Forget it, for now, he would forgive her ignorance. Once she was a bit stronger, he would settle the score with her.

He went to have breakfast at a breakfast shop and then packed an extra portion, which he hung on Qin Yanan’s doorknob.

Only after this did he change into a new set of clothes and drive his Ferrari F8 to Ya Garden.

Because it was still early, he didn’t rush to his store but parked the car at the entrance of the Antique Street and walked in by foot.

Antique Street was as bustling as ever, crowded and lively.

He activated his scanning system and scanned each stall, hoping to find another overlooked item.

But he was disappointed by what he found along the way.

The stall owners were no fools; quite the contrary, they were extremely shrewd.

Their professional acumen was even greater than that of the experts who gabbed away on television.

The genuine articles, they could appraise accurately.

Finding a bargain among these vendors required luck.

Checking the time, it was almost nine o’clock, and his shop would open soon. He was about to leave Antique Street.

As he passed a calligraphy and painting stall, he had to step aside because some of the artwork was placed so far out that they took up half of the street.

Just then, two playful pedestrians suddenly rushed out from behind him, squeezing past right next to him.

Caught off-guard, Tang Feng got bumped, and accidentally stepped on a painting, leaving a footmark on it.

Those two pedestrians seemed to realize they caused trouble and hurriedly scampered off, vanishing in a blink.

The owner of the calligraphy and painting stall immediately jumped out and grabbed Tang Feng’s arm, “Kid, you stepped on my painting, so how are you going to settle this?”

Tang Feng was speechless, “You saw what happened. Those two pushed me.”

The stall owner, a man in his fifties with a weasely face, clearly wasn’t a pushover, “That’s not my concern. I only know you left a footprint on my painting, so it’s your responsibility.”

Tang Feng felt annoyed, “Fine, I’ll take responsibility. Can you let go of me first?”

“Heh, you think I’m a fool? If I let you go, what if you run away? Where would I find you?” The stall owner didn’t let go, instead, he tightened his grip.

As the two of them argued, many people on Antique Street were drawn over to watch the spectacle.

Tang Feng frowned, “I’ll buy the painting. Name your price.”

The stall owner’s demeanor softened a bit as he sized up Tang Feng and extended a fist, “One hundred thousand.”

Tang Feng looked at the painting again and scoffed, “Do you really take me for a sucker? This is just a copy; you’re selling it like it’s the original?”

Having read plenty of books on antiques lately, his knowledge and experience had much improved.

Even without activating his scanning system, he knew the painting wasn’t valuable; it would be worth good if it could fetch three thousand.

When the stall owner heard his claims of expertise, he lost some of his bluster, “This painting has already been sold, and the buyer is coming to pick it up today.”

“You’ve damaged it now, so I’ll have to pay a penalty to the buyer. That loss definitely has to be factored into your responsibility.”

“Heh, if it’s already sold, why is it still out here? Plus, your stall takes up half the street. I think you’re just trying to scam me,” Tang Feng saw right through his scheme.

He suspected that those two who had bumped into him were staged by the stall owner.

They intentionally bumped him towards the stall at the right moment, looking to swindle him out of some money.

Having been exposed, the stall owner became angry and embarrassed, “You’re slandering me! I, Wei Jie, have been running a stall in Antique Street for years; when have I ever pulled such a stunt?”

“If you don’t compensate for my losses today, don’t even think about leaving.”

Tang Feng sharply noticed several unfriendly gazes from the crowd—likely cohorts of the stall owner.

If he dared to resist, they would undoubtedly gang up on him.

Although he was not afraid of such small fry with his capabilities,

this was still Antique Street, where he preferred to exercise restraint when possible and avoid confrontation.

He glanced at the painting again, this time using his scanning system.

“Artwork Title: “Fu Shou” Calligraphy Scroll

Artist: Zhang Daqian

Estimated Value: 2 million

Specific Description…”

“Hm?”

When Tang Feng saw this information, his expression brightened.

Hidden within the layer of this imitation was another piece of calligraphy, and it was by the renowned Zhang Daqian.

Zhang Daqian was famous for his paintings, known alongside Qi Baishi as “Zhang from the south, Qi from the north.”

His paintings often fetched millions.

Compared to his paintings, his calligraphy was less renowned,

but still highly sought after in the antique market.

The system had assessed it at a value of two million.

His heart raced, but he kept a poker face.

“I can buy this painting, but it’s definitely not going to be for one hundred thousand.”

“So, how much will you pay?” the stall owner’s eyes lit up, thinking he had found an easy mark.

“Three thousand,” Tang Feng offered his price.

“Three thousand? Are you joking?”

The stall owner leapt up as though he were a frog thrown into boiling water.

This kid’s bargaining was way too harsh.

He asked for one hundred thousand, and the kid counter-offered with three thousand?