Chapter Sixteen: Partnering to Show Off

Cheng Ziqiu watched coldly from the side, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

These people, who usually fawned over Chen Jianguo as if ready to lick the soles of his shoes, now that he had been humiliated, immediately put on a different face.

Truly fair-weather friends, swayed by every wind!

Chen Jiwang’s sharp gaze swept across the entire room.

The once noisy banquet hall instantly fell silent, so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.

Cheng Ziqiu inwardly marveled.

This old man truly was the helmsman of the Chen family; his aura commanded respect without a word of anger.

Those sycophants who had just kicked Chen Jianguo when he was down were now as silent as mice, like frightened grandchildren.

Once the room was completely quiet, Chen Jiwang put on a smile and said to Cheng Ziqiu, “Xiao Cheng, Jianjun gave me a painting by Tang Bohu. Could you take a look and tell me if it’s genuine?”

No sooner had Chen Jiwang spoken than Chen Jianjun scoffed disdainfully.

He thought to himself, “That old man actually regards this kid as someone important? A mere novice, what does he know about antiques?”

“Dad, don’t tease this kid. I paid a fortune for this painting at Sotheby’s auction, and it even comes with an authentic certificate of appraisal and receipt!”

As he spoke, Chen Jianjun slammed a stack of documents onto the table with a loud snap, causing the cups and plates to tremble.

Cheng Ziqiu glanced at the papers and smiled faintly.

Certificate of appraisal? Receipt?

These days, the methods of forgery have become increasingly sophisticated.

What proof do these things really offer?

Leisurely, Cheng Ziqiu walked to the table, picked up the painting, theatrically held it up to the light, then leaned in to sniff it.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he murmured, shaking his head.

“This painting... well, it’s only a notch better than the toilet paper.”

His words caused an uproar.

Chen Jianjun’s face turned green with anger.

“What nonsense are you spouting? This is a genuine Tang Bohu original!”

“A genuine Tang Bohu original?” Cheng Ziqiu laughed uproariously as if he had heard the greatest joke.

“With this level of skill, if Tang Bohu knew, he’d probably crawl out of his coffin to slap you!”

“The pigments, the brushwork, the composition — it’s the cream of the crop among rubbish!”

Chen Jianjun was furious and humiliated.

“You don’t know anything! This was appraised by Master Zhang, a titan in the antiques world! A true expert!”

“Master Zhang?” Cheng Ziqiu raised an eyebrow.

“Which Master Zhang? The one who charges two thousand yuan to authenticate a Qing Dynasty Qianlong imperial chamber pot?”

At his words, the guests burst into laughter.

Chen Jianjun’s face darkened to an unbearable shade.

Pointing at Cheng Ziqiu, he roared, “Watch your mouth! Master Zhang is a revered figure, a giant in the antiques world! How dare you slander him, you lowlife!”

Cheng Ziqiu sneered.

“Revered? A giant?”

“I’d say notorious! With skills like those, calling himself a master is laughable—I’d call him a ‘big wet’ instead!”

“You... you’re slandering!” Chen Jianjun shouted, trying to mask his inner turmoil with bluster.

“Slandering?” Cheng Ziqiu mocked, pressing his advantage.

“Then tell me, how much did you pay for this painting?”

Chen Jianjun stiffened, stammering before finally spitting out a number: “One million! No deception!”

“One million?” Cheng Ziqiu scoffed, looking at Chen Jianjun as if he were a fool.

“For this piece of junk? Even a hundred I’d think was too much!”

Chen Jianjun felt like a clown, being toyed with relentlessly by Cheng Ziqiu.

In a fit of rage, he grabbed Cheng Ziqiu’s collar, teeth clenched, and growled, “Don’t pretend to understand! If you can prove this painting is fake, I’ll eat it right here!”

Unfazed, Cheng Ziqiu slapped Chen Jianjun’s hand away with a cold laugh.

“Eat it? I’m not afraid of your digestion problems!”

“But before you eat it, let’s be clear: is it real or fake?”

Chen Jianjun, furious and embarrassed, blurted, “You little bastard, you know nothing! This is...”

Before he could finish, Chen Jiwang interrupted with a grim expression, clearly displeased with Chen Jianjun’s behavior.

“Jianjun, hold your tongue.”

He then turned to Cheng Ziqiu.

“Ziqiu, since you say it’s fake, tell us where exactly it’s fake.”

Cheng Ziqiu’s lips curled into a slight smile. He stepped to the painting and gently tapped the canvas with two fingers.

“This painting couldn’t be faker. First, the silk is wrong. Silk from Tang Bohu’s era is delicate and soft, but this is coarse and stiff, clearly a product of modern manufacture.”

He paused, then pointed at the inscription on the painting.

“Look at the signature ‘Liu Ru Jushi.’ Though it’s impressively imitated, a careful eye will see the brushstrokes lack force and the spirit of Tang Bohu’s originals. It’s clearly a copy.”

Cheng Ziqiu spoke confidently, leaving the crowd stunned.

Chen Jianjun’s face turned pale, sweat beading on his forehead.

He had thought Cheng Ziqiu was a layman who could be easily fooled with a few words.

He never expected this kid to be so sharp!

“You’re lying!” Chen Jianjun argued desperately.

“The certificate is right here—black and white on paper, how could it be fake?”

Cheng Ziqiu snatched the certificate, glanced at it, and burst out laughing.

“This? Printed on A4 paper, stamped with a fake seal probably bought from some street stall, and you have the nerve to show it off?”

He tore the certificate into halves, then quarters, balling it up and tossing it at Chen Jianjun’s face.

The paper fluttered down like snowflakes, light but stinging like slaps, reddening Chen Jianjun’s face and leaving him speechless.

Chen Jianjun was utterly flustered.

He hadn’t expected Cheng Ziqiu to know so much about antiques.

In truth, the painting was indeed a fake.

It was a scheme he and Master Zhang had concocted to show off in front of Chen Jiwang and make a quick profit.

Seeing Chen Jianjun’s guilty expression only confirmed Cheng Ziqiu’s suspicions.

“There are more flaws,” Cheng Ziqiu continued. “For example, the pigments are modern chemical colors, while Tang Bohu’s era used natural mineral pigments. The mounting is also done with modern techniques...”

With each word, Chen Jianjun’s expression worsened.

He felt exposed, like a monkey stripped bare before everyone.

“Jianjun, what exactly is going on?” Chen Jiwang asked sternly, his tone laced with anger.

Chen Jianjun stammered, unable to answer.

He knew he was completely trapped this time.

Just then, Cheng Ziqiu shifted tone, smiling slyly at Chen Jianjun.

“Mr. Chen, I remember you said if I could prove the painting was fake, you’d eat it right then and there, correct?”

Chen Jianjun’s face drained of color.

He never imagined the pit he dug would be the one to bury him.

“I...”

“What’s this? Having second thoughts, Mr. Chen?” Cheng Ziqiu pressed, teasingly relentless.

Chen Jianjun’s facial muscles twitched.

Eat the painting?

What a joke!

Though it was fake, the pigments and silk inside would surely cause diarrhea or worse if ingested.