"Qingqing, five hundred yuan isn't enough to go to the flea market," Ye Mingcheng said softly, wanting to get more money so he wouldn't feel anxious.
"If you don't have enough, buy less. The third floor is almost full of junk you've bought. If you keep buying, our house will turn into a flea market," Ye Qingqing retorted irritably.
She originally thought that Ye Mingcheng, being from a wealthy family, would have a broad perspective since childhood, and being Ye Xunmei's biological son, was a scumbag. Although that old man had character issues, his talent was undeniable, especially in the field of antiques, where Ye Xunmei was far superior to some so-called experts.
Whether considering genetics or environmental influences, Ye Mingcheng, even if not a king, certainly couldn't be a bronze-level player.
Therefore, Ye Qingqing still had confidence in Ye Mingcheng, letting him carry junk home time and time again. She watched as the number of old items in the house increased day by day, filling the entire third floor and piling up on the second floor as well.
Once, when Ye Xunmei returned to Pingjiang, Ye Qingqing thought of asking him to help appraise the old items on the second floor to see how much money they could earn. Over the years, Ye Mingcheng had spent a lot of money collecting these junk items, averaging 10,000 yuan a year, which added up to at least 60,000 to 70,000 yuan.
Strictly speaking, Ye Mingcheng is the biggest spendthrift in the family; Wuchen is nothing compared to him.
Ye Qingqing didn't expect to earn much back, just enough to break even. However, Ye Xunmei patiently examined dozens of items, only to find that every single one was a fake, worthless even if sold as scrap.
Ye Mingcheng was not giving up, so he picked out a lot of items that he thought were genuine and had his father appraise them. The result was still the same: they were all fakes, and low-quality imitations at that. Anyone with a little knowledge of antiques would not be fooled.
Ye Xunmei eliminated most of them, and he didn't have the patience to look at the rest, because he felt the possibility of them being genuine was extremely slim. He even left a heartfelt remark—
"Mingcheng, why don't you learn Go and Tai Chi? They don't cost any money."
But Ye Mingcheng was still unwilling to give up. He firmly believed that one day he would find the real thing. He also quite liked the fakes. However, he became more cautious after that and did not buy everything he saw as before.
"There must be treasures inside." Ye Mingcheng wanted to speak up for the old items on the second floor. In his eyes, they were all treasures, and he felt that even if he were to be lucky, he might stumble upon one or two genuine items. He would ask his father to help him appraise them another day.
"Grandpa said you don't have the talent, all you collect is junk. Treasure my foot! Anyway, it's only five hundred yuan. You can buy whatever junk you want, but you can't give it to Wuchen. Dr. Hu, please keep an eye on my dad. If he secretly gives money to Wuchen again, call me and I'll give you a bonus."
Dr. Hu agreed without hesitation, "Don't worry, I'll definitely keep a close eye on things for you."
He wasn't doing this for the prize money; he was trying to save a spoiled, wayward girl—a truly arduous task!
Ye Mingcheng glared angrily at Dr. Hu. He used to think this guy was honest and kind, but it turned out he was quite cunning. Dr. Hu pretended not to see it and remained calm. Ye Mingcheng wasn't the one who made the decisions at home; he had to listen to Ye Qingqing.
We listen to whoever pays the money.
With everything arranged, Ye Qingqing was about to go home when she noticed a celadon pottery jar on the clinic table. It was narrow at the top and wide at the bottom, and the porcelain surface wasn't very smooth. The color was a mix of blue and earthy tones, giving it a somewhat rustic look. However, it suited Ye Qingqing's eye. She had recently been looking for a simple and unpretentious jar to display her flowers, and this pottery jar was quite suitable.
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