Chapter 110: No, No, No, Run Towards Him
His hands were a little cold, and there was helplessness and subtle grievance in his dark eyes. He probably guessed that she had something delicious, but she refused to give it to him.
"It's leftovers, and it's cold," she explained.
"Give it to me, I'm hungry."
A thought suddenly occurred to her: he must be really hungry. She pulled out a takeout container and disposable chopsticks from her bag: "Then eat what you can eat, and throw away what you don't like."
He opened his lunch box and leaned against the railing in the hallway to eat. The November night was already a bit chilly, and Qin Tian was a little worried seeing him eating like that, worried that he might feel uncomfortable eating cold food in the draft. He couldn't help but say, "Why don't we go over to my house and sit down and eat slowly. Then come down after the agent arrives?"
Tong Zhongyuan also wanted to go to her house, but he couldn't stay for more than a few minutes before someone else arrived. Also, he knew that in her mind, he was a yandere and difficult person, and he didn't want her to misunderstand him any further.
"Qin Tian, I'm used to eating cold food, especially when the temperature is much lower than it is now." He ate the lava bun from his lunch box in a few bites. "I rarely get sick, I don't like to carry an umbrella when I go out, I'm not picky about food, I can sleep anywhere, and I drink ice water even on the coldest days."
He finished talking and eating, put away the lunch box, and found the nearest trash can to throw it away.
Qin Tian found it a little funny. Was this him he was talking about? Did he have any misunderstanding about himself?
The Zhongyuan agent arrived on a small electric scooter. Tong Zhongyuan asked Qin Tian if he wanted to accompany him to look at houses. Of course. Ming Yuanxing had already taken care of it, and since Tong Zhongyuan, a foreigner, was looking for a house under her nose, she had to help him.
This apartment is on a good floor and is quite large, with three bedrooms and a living room. However, the decoration is very old, and it is obvious that it is the preference of the elderly. Qin Tian thought that Tong Zhongyuan was only renting it for a short period of time, so he might not spend the energy to renovate it. She shook her head at Tong Zhongyuan and said, "Our community is close to the Shanghai Museum and there are many restaurants nearby, so it is quite convenient. But they are all old houses like this. The community next door is delivering the houses with decorations, and I think it will suit you better."
Tong Zhongyuan opened the window, which faced Qin Tian's kitchen. There were also a few pots of half-dead flowers on the window.
"I think it's nice, like my childhood home."
Qin Tian was speechless. Isn't it true? You've been gone for more than 20 years. Tong Zhongyuan turned on the water, electricity and gas to check and found that they were all working. There was a bed in each of the three rooms. Each mattress was of poor quality and had mottled marks on it. Tong Zhongyuan asked if the landlord's things could be thrown away if he rented it. Qin Tian saw that he had an unconcealable look of disgust on his face and remembered that he had just said that he could sleep anywhere. She crossed her arms and covered her lips with her fingers to avoid saying something that would hit him in the face.
The agent was surprised to see him so instantly impressed and wanted to strike while the iron was hot and have him go to the store to sign the agreement. Qin Tian quickly stopped him, saying that if there was any signing, it would be done by the administration department, so they would wait and see.
It was almost ten o'clock when they finished their rounds. The four of them emerged from the hallway, and the agent, chatting and laughing, rode away on his moped under the moonlight, leaving the two of them alone. Qin Tian reached her apartment, and Tong Zhongyuan stood a few steps away. She looked back, but he showed no sign of leaving, as if waiting for her invitation. She did have questions for him, and she would have invited him to her house if it had been two days before.
"Tong Zhongyuan, are you free tomorrow at noon? I'll treat you to a meal and we can chat."
His eyelashes trembled, but he didn't answer. A chill crept up inside him. He guessed her attitude had changed, but he didn't know it was a change that meant she was refusing him. He was right here, standing downstairs in her house. She'd rather have lunch tomorrow than have him enter her house at this hour.
Seeing his unreadable expression and his hesitation to speak, Qin Tian wondered if she had been too obvious. This lunch invitation was practically the same as an order to leave.
"I don't mean anything else. It's too late now, and I'm afraid it will disturb your rest."
She explained earnestly and politely, fearing he'd misunderstand. But he felt a bitterness in the air. What if it was Tang Zhixu standing here? What if it was him two days ago? Would she not let him in? The door she had once opened to him was now closed to him after that night.
"I understand. See you tomorrow at noon." He said lightly.
"See you tomorrow."
They said goodbye to each other, but no one turned around. Qin Tian waited for a moment, waved to him, and walked into the hallway. Opening the door, she tiredly put down her bag and sat on the sofa in a daze. Since they had decided to stay friends, it was the right thing to do. She had done nothing wrong, but the look in his eyes when she left seemed a little hurt.
She walked to the kitchen. If he rented the house across the street, she'd be able to see him every night from here. Her gaze gradually dropped. In the dim lights of the neighborhood, time stood still. He still stood there. His back was straight, but his head was lowered, as if he had made a mistake. She gripped the window frame tighter and tighter, resisting the urge to overwhelm her.
She let go of the window frame, returned to the sofa, unpacked her bag, and tried to distract herself. His instantly dimmed eyes, the warm color of his hair under the streetlight, his cold and desolate goodbye, like a reflection in a lake, ripples swaying and breaking, flickering and disturbing her heart. She rushed out the door, impatiently pressing the elevator button. The elevator number slowly jumped and stopped. She opened the fire door of the emergency passage. The dark stairwell was filled with hurried and chaotic footsteps. The sensor lights lit up one by one, in a circle, rushing from top to bottom.
She pushed the door open and ran out, panting. Under the streetlight, the place was empty, with swaying shadows of trees, as if what she saw upstairs was just an illusion.
Tong Zhongyuan walked back to the hotel from the residential complex, phone in hand. He had walked this same route just a few days before, speaking to the same person. He remembered that day as towering buildings lined up side by side, the moon shining brightly across the sky. Today, however, the autumn wind was bleak, and for the first time, he felt the chill of late autumn.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"So serious? Did I interrupt your date?" Eithans grinned.
"No. Tell me."
Even from over 10,000 kilometers away, Eithans could sense that Tong Zhongyuan was in a bad mood. Unfortunately, what he was about to say would only make him feel worse.
"That client, the one in Hong Kong you asked me to risk my life to find out about. Well, I did. Now you owe me your life."
"Go ahead."
"This client, surnamed Li, used to be an auctioneer in Hong Kong, but he resigned over a decade ago. Over the past five years, he's purchased antiques at auctions in New York, London, and Hong Kong. This only reflects his public transactions, not including purchases from other sources. I checked his past transactions, and he only buys bronzes and porcelain, especially porcelain. As for calligraphy, paintings, jewelry, and sculptures, he's never touched them. He's very low-key, and the items he buys aren't the hottest items of the week. It's even true that he only buys antiques that haven't seen much of a hit. If I hadn't specifically checked his transactions, I wouldn't have noticed him. He uses Chinese names for his purchases in Hong Kong, but English names for London and New York. I suspect he's just a figurehead, with a consortium behind him. They buy obscure bronzes and porcelains, analyze their age characteristics, and then artificially reproduce them, releasing them into the collector's market. This time, your girlfriend's paper caught their attention, and since they've perfected their radiation dosing techniques, they want to quickly cash in before the paper goes public. That's why they were so bold as to choose a museum."
Tong Zhongyuan paused. No, it wasn't just out of sheer audacity. Even if a Chinese institution like a museum were embroiled in counterfeit goods, it would likely choose to keep quiet to cover up the scandal. Just like Kongbo. If Wang Yijian hadn't been so fearless, this would have been nothing more than a fake show, with a mere director replacement. No one would have questioned the underlying power dynamics. Only someone who understands the rules would have dared to take such a risk.
"There's another thing. When I told him that there was a problem with my instrument and I couldn't produce a report in the near future." He paused: "He knew I was lying."
"It's standard practice to not report when a counterfeit product is detected so as not to offend anyone."
"Is that what you think? This time is different. In less than a week, your girlfriend's Chinese and English papers were published online. They should have lost all their fakes, and this is just the beginning. The road to bronze counterfeiting has been blocked. And porcelain. The value of fake porcelain is far higher than that of bronze. But your girlfriend's new paper! She redefined the new standard for authenticating ancient porcelain. This will block the road to porcelain counterfeiting as well."
“No one knows about the new paper.”
"No, no, although your girlfriend won't be releasing the data from her new paper, she will be using new standards for evaluation in the future. And your current position at the Shanghai Museum is no secret. I have a feeling someone will come knocking soon, smelling the money. I hope I'm just overthinking it. Also, when will you be back?"
"Probably Christmas," he replied casually.
Tong Zhongyuan was distraught. Eithans's concerns were not groundless. Qin Tian had been right not to make the new paper public. It was a Heshi Bi, priceless and potentially attractive to pursuers. In China, she had official backing to protect her, but the Shanghai Museum conducted extensive business overseas. Who would attract such attention outside the country? Most importantly, how many people knew about her new paper?
"Christmas??? Who do you think would come out to sign an agreement with you on Christmas? What? Are you so stuck in your relationship that you don't even have time to go back to England?"
Eithans kept muttering, and Tong Zhongyuan held his phone, his thoughts wandering.
"Hello! Are you still listening?" Eithans called from the other end of the line. "I have one last question."
"you say."
"Are you sure you want to move your studio to Hong Kong? Go to Hong Kong under these circumstances? Do business in an artificially recreated base?"
He reached the intersection. At the last second, the green light went dark and the red light came on.
The email from the British Museum asking for her to stay; the difficult and arduous studio move; and her back as she walked into the corridor without looking back.
Eithans listened to him for a long time without answering, and sighed: "Forget it, think about it and give me an answer later."
"No need." He looked at the red light counting down. "I'll give you an answer now. I'm sure. I'll be back to sign in a month at the latest."
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