After returning home, Huang Xuan had a good night's sleep, of course, hugging his stamp album.
As the dawn of the next day passed through the clear windows, the birds living in the banyan tree began to chirp. The butler, dressed neatly, stood at the door and gently knocked. Huang Xuan groggily hummed in response, shifting his somewhat uncomfortable arm, but his mind quickly became alert.
"You're up early," Huang's mother was already seated in the dining room.
Huang Xuan affectionately sat beside his mother and smiled, "I'm just here to keep you company for breakfast."
"You've got a sweet tongue," Huang's mother said with a smile. "What do you want? Going out is not an option."
"Then how about I go to the company with you? I haven't been there in a while."
Of course, he hadn't been there in a while—the last time he was only there for two hours, and the entire office looked like it had been hit by a flood. Zhang Xinyi waved her hand with a laugh, "I said no going out. You want to give your dad a reason to make fun of me?"
"Of course not," Huang Xuan pretended to pout. "But you said there's nothing at home. If you really don't take me, what if I starve to death at home? If I get too hungry, I'll have no choice but to risk my life, break through Uncle Zhou's blockade, and climb over the wall."
Zhang Xinyi couldn't help but laugh, "Are you threatening me now? Climbing walls?"
"Mooom…" Huang Xuan dragged out the word and shook his mother's arm vigorously—a tactic that had always worked.
Sure enough, Zhang Xinyi, dizzy from the shaking, poked Huang Xuan's head with her finger and smiled, "Alright, if you can stay within my or Uncle Zhou's sight, I'll take you to the company."
"Deal." Huang Xuan nodded eagerly and then asked, "Is Uncle Zhou coming too?"
"If you're not home, how can he not follow?" With that, Zhang Xinyi stood up, "Let's go right now."
Huang Xuan jumped up immediately, "I'll go grab something upstairs. Wait for me before starting the car." With that, he dashed upstairs to get his stamp album.
On the way to the company, Huang Xuan tried calling out to Lorin, but the base guardian seemed to have vanished, just like his voice.
Sifang Group's office building was located in the Zhonglou District, a newly constructed 48-story main building with two 8-story annexes. It was surrounded by a well-developed commercial area, home to half of the city's Class A office buildings. Despite the Zhang and Huang families' connections, Zhang Xinyi, as the group's director, had put in a lot of effort to secure such high-standard office space.
At 15, Huang Xuan was at an age where he didn't worry much. Right now, his mind was filled with thoughts of how to sell the stamps, with little regard for anything else.
In less than half an hour, Huang Xuan was sitting in his mother's ultra-standard office. As the eldest daughter of the Zhang family, Zhang Xinyi, though she had ventured into entrepreneurship, had kept the habits she'd formed growing up. She had created a 300-square-meter office, the largest of its kind in Nanjing when combined with the adjacent secretary's office.
As for Huang Xuan, he had little interest in the antique-looking greenish-gray bottles and jars scattered around the room. Today, he was here for the secretary.
Zhang Xinyi had four secretaries and two assistants, but she usually only kept one assistant and one secretary by her side. The other three handled correspondence, meeting minutes, and other minor tasks. While his mother was in a meeting, Huang Xuan snuck out to find one of the secretaries, a man named Lou. Plastering a smile on his face, he said, "Brother Lou, can I ask you for a favor?"
Lou Ping, around 30 years old, was clean-shaven and had short hair that suited his face. Naturally, he recognized the chairman's youngest son. With nothing much to do at the moment, he smiled as he poured Huang Xuan a glass of water and asked, "What can I do for you? Come, have a seat and tell me."
"Thanks," Huang Xuan said as he sat down. "I have a classmate who used to collect stamps, but he's lost interest and now wants to sell them. The stamps are worth some money, but he doesn't have any connections, so he asked me to help him out."
"I see," Lou Ping pondered for a moment. "If the stamps aren't particularly valuable, they can be sold at the stamp market in Fuzimiao. But if they're more valuable, auctions or private buyers would be more convenient." As the chairman's secretary, Lou Ping often handled such matters, such as purchasing decorations or managing the chairman's personal collections, so he was quite familiar with these processes.
Huang Xuan, sensing an opportunity, quickly asked, "I heard they're worth quite a bit. What would be the fastest way to sell them? Can you give me some advice?"
"I'll make some inquiries for you," Lou Ping replied cautiously. Who knew how much these rich kids' collections were actually worth?
"Great, I'll wait inside."
After a while, Lou Ping knocked on the door and found Huang Xuan playing computer games. "I have a friend in an auction company," Lou Ping said. "He told me there's a special stamp and coin auction at the end of the month in Beijing. They charge a 12% commission. If the stamps are good, they usually have buyers."
"The end of the month, huh?" Huang Xuan put down the mouse, thought for a moment, and glanced at Uncle Zhou, who was sitting far away on the couch by the door. "It's only the beginning of the month. The end of the month is a bit late, and going to Beijing is inconvenient. Are there any other companies?"
"There aren't any stamp auctions this month," Lou Ping shrugged helplessly. "How about you tell me the types and quantities of the stamps, and I'll ask him to find some private collectors? The price might be a bit lower, though." As a professional secretary, Lou Ping had no interest in why Huang Xuan's friend was in such a hurry to sell the stamps. Even if they were stolen, that was a matter for the chairman and her son.
The complete sheet of 50 "All China is Red" stamps had only appeared once, considered a "national treasure." That was on October 1, 1997, at the National Stamp Exhibition in Guangzhou, where it was valued at over 10 million dollars. At other auctions, pairs or blocks of four stamps had fetched between 150,000 and 350,000 dollars each. Huang Xuan recalled the information he had looked up the previous night and decided that for him, 10 million or more made no difference. He said, "Is your friend an auctioneer? Can he be trusted?"
"Absolutely professional, the kind who often signs confidentiality agreements," Lou Ping replied confidently. As the group's secretary, fulfilling the chairman's son's request was as good as fulfilling the chairman's orders.
"Alright then, I'll leave it to you, Brother Lou. And if my mom doesn't ask about it, don't mention it, okay? Let's agree on that." This was why Huang Xuan sought out the secretary instead of the butler—Uncle Zhou was much harder to deal with.
Seeing Lou Ping agree, Huang Xuan thought for a moment and asked, "What's your friend's name?"
"His name is Liu, Liu Ziqing."
"Okay, how about this," Huang Xuan continued calmly, "My friend's stamps aren't convenient to bring out. Can you ask your friend to come over? If possible, could he bring an appraiser? The price should be based on market value, and if he can find a buyer, I'll give him a 5% commission. But he must sign a confidentiality agreement. What do you think?"
Huang Xuan spoke slowly and deliberately, sounding very much like Zhang Xinyi when giving orders. Lou Ping was taken aback for a moment before quickly agreeing.