Chapter Eleven: Counterfeit?

Within Wanli Group, there were quite a few who harbored grievances against Zhou Peng, but none felt it more keenly than Zhao Xing, the former general manager of Wanli’s Qiantang branch.

Though Qiantang couldn’t quite compare with the likes of Shen City, the capital, or Guangzhou—those economic giants—it was still a renowned city in the country. As general manager, Zhao Xing held real power within Wanli, his future bright and promising.

Yet, just over two years ago, Zhou Peng, a greenhorn still wet behind the ears, had parachuted into Qiantang thanks to his connection with Zhou Wannian, and forcibly appended the word “Deputy” to Zhao Xing’s title of general manager.

Zhao Xing dared not confront Zhou Wannian, so all his resentment naturally landed on Zhou Peng. Zhao Xing’s open and covert acts of non-cooperation had led to the Qiantang branch’s dismal performance over the past two years.

Even though Zhou Peng was aware of this, there was nothing he could do. In terms of seniority, Zhao Xing far outstripped him; in achievements, Zhao was miles ahead; and in connections, after half a lifetime cultivating Qiantang, a single word from him could send old clients and friends to seek cooperation with the branches in the capital or elsewhere, bypassing Qiantang altogether. Yet, no obvious faults could be found.

This was a major reason Zhou Peng, despite holding the reins of the Qiantang branch, had no accomplishments to show.

At this moment, Zhao Xing returned from an errand to find a young man standing at the front desk. Overhearing the last couple of sentences, he gathered that the man wanted to auction jewelry.

“Young man, what do you want to auction?” Zhao Xing asked casually.

The receptionist, now noticing Zhao Xing, hurriedly bowed. “Hello, Director Zhao.”

Wu You glanced at the middle-aged, pot-bellied man in a suit beside him. Since he was an executive at Wanli, there was no need to be circumspect. “Hello, Director Zhao. I’d like to entrust Wanli with the auction of a gemstone.”

“What kind of gemstone?” Zhao Xing’s interest was piqued, if only slightly.

“It should count as a pearl, I suppose,” Wu You replied after a moment’s thought.

Zhao Xing’s interest was immediately dampened. No matter how fine, pearls rarely fetched high prices. A natural ocean pearl of ten millimeters was considered excellent, but would go for little more than several hundred thousand at most—a rarity in Qiantang anyway.

He asked, disinterested, “How many are there, and what’s the diameter?”

“Just one, roughly the size of a longan fruit. I haven’t measured the exact diameter.”

Zhao Xing’s expression darkened at once. A pearl the size of a longan? Was this a joke? Clearly a naive youth who’d picked up a fake.

“All right, Xiaohong, there’s no need to bother with this customer. He’s got a fake on his hands—though whether he knows it or not is another matter,” Zhao Xing said, giving Wu You a disdainful once-over.

The receptionist named Xiaohong looked at Wu You apologetically. “Sir, perhaps you’d best leave…”

Truth be told, Wu You didn’t know much about the usual size or market of natural pearls. That didn’t stop him from resenting Zhao Xing, who had dismissed his item as a fake without so much as a basic appraisal, not even bothering to look at it, as though Wu You had come to cheat Wanli. Zhao Xing’s scrutinizing gaze suggested as much.

Wu You returned his look with a cold stare. “Wanli Auction House, what an air about you. I hope you won’t come to regret this.” With those words, he ignored both Zhao Xing and the receptionist and turned to leave.

“Wait.” A clear voice called out from outside.

Wu You looked in surprise toward the voice and saw the suited man from the building’s entrance—the one who’d been searching for a light for his cigarette.

The receptionist hastily greeted him. “Hello, Director Zhou.”

Zhou Peng, having finished his smoke, returned just in time to witness the discord between Wu You and Zhao Xing. Zhou Peng had formed a good impression of Wu You, and as a potential client, Zhao Xing’s behavior had clearly soured Wu You’s view of the entire Wanli Auction House.

This would not do. Wanli’s reputation had been painstakingly built over the years, and to Zhou Peng, Wanli was like a second home. He would not tolerate any incident of mistreating a client. What if this young man turned out to have an extraordinary background?

Even if the young man had no connections and his consignment was unremarkable, just to spite Zhao Xing, Zhou Peng was determined to keep this client.

At this, Zhao Xing actually smiled. Fine, let the boy make a fool of himself—he had only himself to blame. He deliberately put on a cold face toward Zhou Peng.

“Director Zhou, don’t say I didn’t warn you. This customer most likely has a fake,” Zhao Xing said.

Zhou Peng was taken aback. “A fake? You’ve seen it?”

Zhao Xing shook his head. “No.”

Zhou Peng’s temper flared at once. Passing judgment without even seeing the item—who wouldn’t be angry? But outwardly, he maintained cordiality.

“Director Zhao, whether it’s fake or not is for the company’s appraiser to determine. You may be a senior in the field, but remote appraisals aren’t exactly a professional practice, are they?” Zhou Peng emphasized the words “remote appraisal.”

Zhao Xing’s ire was stoked as well. Fine, let the appraisal proceed—in due course, I’ll report this fiasco to headquarters and see how Zhou Wannian likes it.

“As you wish, Director Zhou,” he replied.

Receptionist Xiaohong was caught in the middle, not knowing what to do.

Wu You, standing aside, began to understand. This young Director Zhou and Director Zhao were clearly at odds.

He had already lost interest in Wanli Auction House, but now, he thought he might as well do Director Zhou a favor.

Zhou Peng turned to Wu You, presenting his business card with both hands.

“My name is Zhou Peng, general manager of Wanli Auction House’s Qiantang branch. May I have your name, sir?”

Wu You accepted the embossed card. “Hello, Director Zhou. My name is Wu You. Since you trust me, let’s follow Wanli’s standard procedure.”

Zhou Peng smiled and nodded. “Xiaohong, please escort Mr. Wu to the appraisal room—no, I’ll take him myself.”

…

Inside Appraisal Room One of Wanli’s Qiantang branch, Wu You and Zhou Peng waited for the appraiser.

Zhou Peng had already asked Wu You for details about the item to be consigned. Upon hearing that it was a pearl roughly the size of a longan, Zhou Peng’s brow furrowed; he couldn’t help feeling a pang of regret. But at this point, sending Wu You away would be a loss of face.

Wu You, meanwhile, caught on—Zhou Peng’s reaction told him that a pearl of that size truly exceeded the normal limits.

The appraiser entered—a balding man in his forties, who, judging by his demeanor, had likely just encountered Zhao Xing. His look toward Wu You was full of impatience.

“Hello, Director Zhou. Hello, Mr. Wu. I’m appraiser Huang Wei. Please bring out your item—I’ll know at a glance whether it’s genuine,” he said. With Zhou Peng present, the appraiser dared not be too abrupt.

Without further ado, Wu You took a silk-wrapped bundle from his trouser pocket and placed it on the table.

Even though the appraiser was convinced it was a fake, professional habit compelled him to handle it with care.

Inside lay a lustrous pearl, creamy white with a faint yellowish hue, about three centimeters in diameter—a perfect sphere.

“Oh?” Huang Wei exclaimed softly at the sight. Though not a specialist in pearls, as an expert he could still distinguish between natural and artificial ones.

He lifted the pearl gently, examining it with a magnifying glass, then illuminated it from various angles with a small flashlight.

The color was natural, the form nearly flawless, the light refracted beautifully—all beyond the reach of artificial manufacture. But could such a large pearl have a nucleus inside?

Even so, there were limits to nucleated pearls. If the nucleus was too large, the pearl could not form at all and the host oyster would die. For a pearl of this size, the mother oyster itself would be a treasure.

He measured it carefully with calipers—thirty-two millimeters in diameter.

The more he examined it, the more unsettled he felt. If this was real, it would be a family heirloom for generations.

Zhou Peng, who had harbored little hope, perked up at Huang Wei’s exclamation, and grew more expectant as he watched the careful scrutiny.

Reluctantly, Huang Wei set the pearl down.

“Director Zhou, Mr. Wu, I can only say that this pearl is very likely genuine, but I am not equipped to make a definitive judgment. As it happens, Master Qin is at the company today—why not invite him to take a look?”

Zhou Peng was immediately anxious. “Master Qin is here? Please invite him at once.”

“Yes, Master Qin is visiting Qiantang on holiday and dropped by to see me. I’ll fetch him right away,” Huang Wei replied, hurrying out of the room, his excitement surpassing even Zhou Peng’s.

Master Qin—full name Qin Tianming—was a leading figure in China’s world of cultural relic and jewelry appraisal. Now in his eighties, he was the pillar of the Wanli Auction Group, and Huang Wei happened to be one of his three disciples.