"Quickly, quickly bring out those three table lamps for me to examine."
Welcoming Jin Muchen into the shop, Old Rick didn't bother with formalities. After their previous interaction, the two had become quite familiar.
Jin Muchen carried a cardboard box containing the three newly refurbished table lamps. Placing the box at the back of the shop on Rick's desk, he was about to open it when suddenly the doorbell at the entrance rang, and someone walked in.
Rick and Jin Muchen looked up, noticing Rick's expression turning somewhat sour, but he quickly adjusted.
As Jin Muchen caught sight of the person entering, he couldn't help but be stunned. Fate seemed to bring them together again, but why did it have to be him?
The person who just entered turned out to be the same Du Qiangni Jin Muchen encountered at Bentley's house the day before. However, this time, he didn't seem as proud as before.
With a black eye, a bandage on his nose, a bruise on his face, and a slight limp, Du Qiangni had clearly been worse for wear since their last encounter. Jin Muchen had only given him a light beating that day, but for him, it must have been quite severe.
"How come it's you again?"
As Jin Muchen recognized the newcomer, the man also spotted Jin Muchen standing next to Old Rick and couldn't help but blurt out.
However, the sight was quite comical as he had lost both his front teeth, leaving his upper gum dark, and he spoke with a slight lisp.
"Do you two know each other?"
Seeing this scene, Old Rick couldn't help but turn to Jin Muchen and ask.
"Hehe, we met briefly a couple of days ago, not exactly acquainted," Jin Muchen replied casually, and Old Rick turned to look at Du Qiangni again, suppressing his curiosity.
"Hey, Johnny, you're a busy man. What brings you here today?"
It seemed that Rick was quite familiar with Du Qiangni from before.
Du Qiangni tried to force a smile on his face, but it was unsuccessful. His whole face was stiff now, and he didn't dare to move easily because any movement would pull at the wounds on his face, causing more pain.
These injuries were all thanks to the guy standing in front of him. Thinking of this, he couldn't help but glare at Jin Muchen, but when he saw Jin Muchen's cold smile and gleaming white teeth, he immediately felt a chill run down his spine. That guy's icy gaze was like that of a fierce beast. If he provoked him again, he might very well break his neck. Du Qiangni absolutely believed that the guy was capable of it.
So, he quickly lowered his head. Today, he came here for business, not to pick a fight with this guy.
Damn, it was hard enough to buy a bowl the other day, but today he had to sell it. He had called for a tow truck from Long Island last time, and those guys really knew how to rip people off. Just towing the car from Long Island to Manhattan's Chinatown cost him five hundred dollars, not to mention the repair costs. So now he had to sell the good stuff in his hands to make some money and make up for the loss.
"A few days ago, I just acquired something that I thought was good, so I brought it here for you to see. The seller said it's an 18th-century European porcelain, once used by European nobles. After studying it, I also think it is. So I brought it here for you to have a look. What price can you offer?"
"Johnny," said Du Qiangni as he approached Rick. Rick led him to the reception area, and without further ado, Du Qiangni took out a large pizza box from his backpack and opened it. Inside was the colorful porcelain plate he had photographed at Bentley's house the other day.
Rick didn't know much about pure Chinese-style porcelain, but he was quite knowledgeable about export porcelain tailored for the Western market. As soon as he held the plate, he felt something was off. He gave it a shake, and the weight seemed fine. Checking the base, it seemed authentic. However, the glossy finish of the plate seemed off. Export porcelain from back then usually had warmer and more authentic colors since they were fired using charcoal kilns. However, modern porcelain products, due to improved technology and cheaper production costs, often lacked the same craftsmanship and authenticity. While the plate's colors were vibrant and the painting beautiful, the glossy finish didn't match that of charcoal kiln-fired pieces. Moreover, upon closer inspection of the painting in the center, it was riddled with flaws. The farmer depicted harvesting fruits wore clothing that was completely out of place; it resembled ancient Chinese farmer attire rather than that of European farmers. Think about it, during the Ming and Qing dynasties, would such crude mistakes be made in meticulous export porcelain? Just seeing these flaws, Rick didn't want to look any further. He just chuckled at Du Qiangni and pushed the plate back to him. "Johnny, something seems off about this plate, so I can't accept it."
"What?" Upon hearing this, Du Qiangni felt like he had been struck by lightning. How was this possible? Many antique experts had rushed to buy this plate at the auction the other day. How could it be flawed? Rick pointed out the discrepancies in the plate one by one, leaving Du Qiangni dumbfounded.
He was really just an amateur in the antique business. He had stumbled upon a big fortune by accident once, and it was this experience that got him into the business. Although he had tried to cram some knowledge about antiques afterward, he was still just scratching the surface. So being duped like this wasn't surprising at all.
"Rick, even if it's fake, it must still be worth a lot, right? Look at the craftsmanship and the perfect painting on this plate. It must be worth thousands of dollars, right?" Du Qiangni was completely lost at this point. He couldn't believe he had made such a mistake. He felt like a drowning man desperately reaching for a straw.
Rick sighed. "Johnny, you're a valued customer of mine, and I wouldn't lie to you. The plate you brought is, according to my estimation, a mass-produced item from mainland China in the 1990s. Its current market value is around fifty dollars, which is already considered expensive. If you don't believe me, you can go to nearby craft shops. They have similar items there. If you doubt my judgment, take this plate and try selling it elsewhere. See if they'll take it."
Rick's words completely shocked Du Qiangni. So, the nine thousand one hundred dollars had gone down the drain? And to think about the money spent on the car and the punctured tires, this trip had been a huge loss!
"I've told you before, you know nothing! Go back to pretending to be a nouveau riche and leave the antique business to those who understand its elegance. You understand nothing about such refined art! Now look at you, you've lost your pants and can't even pretend to be nouveau riche anymore, right? Why don't you hurry back to Chinatown and focus on cooking your noodles, Uncle? This kind of sophisticated antique art isn't something you can handle."
Watching the disheartened Du Qiangni, though he was in a sorry state, Jin Muchen couldn't resist coming over to kick him while he was down. With disdain for someone who forsakes their ancestors and only knows how to fawn over foreigners, Jin Muchen felt not an ounce of sympathy. His current plight was entirely his own doing, and Jin Muchen didn't have an ounce of pity for him.
Seeing the disdainful smile on Jin Muchen's face, Du Qiangni felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head, leaving him chilled to the bone. As he remembered the scene at the auction when he bid for the plate, everything suddenly became clear.
"You bastard, did you set me up?" He stood up and shouted hoarsely at Jin Muchen. Jin Muchen didn't entertain his whimpering; his expression turned cold as he stared at Du Qiangni. "Say that again?"
With his sharp gaze, Jin Muchen seemed to slice through Du Qiangni's face like a blade, causing him to wince. The tension in his muscles made the wound on his face twitch, sending a sharp pain shooting through his mind. Memories of being beaten by this guy flashed through his mind. Though it was just punches and kicks, his body still ached from it. Du Qiangni suddenly felt a dampness in his pants, and his legs went weak.
"You're blind and incompetent. Don't blame others for your own shortcomings. You've lost your pants, so why don't you hurry back to Chinatown and make money selling noodles? What's the point of pretending to be nouveau riche here?" Jin Muchen's words cut deep. Du Qiangni's face turned as red as a crab, but he dared not confront Jin Muchen directly.
"Hmph! Do you think this is your home? I'm not leaving! This is Rick's shop, not yours! I may have poor judgment, and I'll take responsibility for my losses, but let's see what treasures you, a paper-thin rascal, have. Don't tell me you're here to swindle people with junk you've collected elsewhere?" Fired up by Jin Muchen's scolding, Du Qiangni couldn't contain his anger. When did this Northerner dare to swagger in front of him?