C4 Pick It up
Tantrum vividly remembered his first encounter with Xia Xingchen; he was a mere five years old, and she was just four.
The daughter of the Xia Family Village chief, Xia Xingchen was a disheveled, snotty little thing when Tantrum and his grandfather arrived in the village. She was a true village-born wild child—filthy and unattractive—and Tantrum took an instant dislike to her.
He could still picture her that day, peeking out from behind her father, covertly observing Tantrum with her dirt-smudged face, her lively eyes darting about.
While his grandfather was busy discussing matters with the Village Chief, Tantrum stood waiting by the door. That's when Xia Xingchen approached, gazing into his eyes with an earnest expression, and asked, "Little brother, my name is Xia Xingchen. What's yours? I like you. Can I play with you from now on?"
Their first exchange was met with Tantrum brusquely shoving her aside, causing her to tumble to the ground.
Yet Xia Xingchen rose to her feet as though it were nothing, neither crying nor throwing a tantrum. She returned to Tantrum's side and pleaded in her childlike voice, "Little brother, Xingchen really likes you. Can't we play together? Xingchen will be good. Please don't push me; it hurts when I fall..."
"Go away!" was Tantrum's curt response.
But Xia Xingchen didn't retreat. Instead, she reached out with her grubby little hands and clung to Tantrum's sleeve. No matter how forcefully he pushed or how harshly he struck her hands—leaving them red and swollen—she held on. Tears welled in her eyes, but she stubbornly bit her lip, refusing to cry.
Her gaze was one of pure determination.
And so began the intricate dance between Tantrum and Xia Xingchen. Wherever Tantrum went, Xia Xingchen was sure to follow, her presence as constant as a shadow. As time passed and they both matured, Tantrum's aversion to Xia Xingchen faded, and he found himself growing accustomed to her constant company.
Back in high school, people often mistook Xia Xingchen and Tantrum for a couple, but at that time, Xingchen hadn't blossomed into the beauty she is today, and Tantrum felt nothing out of the ordinary for her. Whenever Xingchen heard the couple rumors, she'd just flash a radiant, sweet smile, while Tantrum would get frustrated, insisting she keep her distance so he wouldn't scare off potential girlfriends.
Xingchen, however, was unbothered by his protests and clung to Tantrum as if guarding him from being snatched away by someone else. That was until Tantrum dropped out of school.
He was aware of Xingchen's feelings for him—a deep, inexplicable affection that began with the very first glance. And now, reunited, Xingchen's feelings hadn't wavered; she still loved being close to him, watching him, even relishing the times he teased her.
Tantrum, catching sight of Xingchen's increasingly enticing curves, found his pulse quickening. He realized that the young girl he once knew had grown up and become stunningly beautiful. He knew she wouldn't refuse him if he made a move.
But after gulping down his nervousness, Tantrum forced himself to look away, giving Xingchen's behind a firm smack as he grumbled, "Get up already. It's not proper for a girl to be lounging on my bed. What will people think? How am I supposed to find a girlfriend with you here?"
With her cheeks flushed from the slap, Xingchen sat up and retorted, "You're as dense as a log. How are you ever going to get a girlfriend?"
"Hey, Xingchen, are you asking for trouble? I'll find a girlfriend just to prove you wrong! Any heiresses at your school in need of a bodyguard? The pretty ones, preferably. Introduce me to a few, and once I've made my fortune, I'll share the wealth—and the women—with you. Trust me, with my skills, it'll be a breeze."
"No, there are no beauties here, just ugly women weighing 180 pounds!" Xia Xingchen shot Tantrum a glare, scrambled to her feet, and dashed out the door.
Tantrum watched Xia Xingchen's retreating figure, her grace lingering in his vision. It took considerable effort for him to quell the stirrings in his heart.
After some rest in his room to rejuvenate his spirits, Tantrum left the antique shop and meandered through the bustling antique market, drifting from stall to stall.
He was on a mission that could potentially define his entire life.
Treasure hunting for undervalued antiques!
The value of antiques had been climbing year after year, igniting the market with fervor. Take 2013, for instance: six antiques sold for over 50 million RMB, two surpassed the hundred million mark, and countless others fetched tens of millions.
Not to mention the Chenghua Doucai chicken cup auctioned for 280 million, the Yuan dynasty blue-and-white porcelain jar depicting Guiguzi descending the mountain for 230 million, or the Qing dynasty Qianlong period's enamel "Ji Qing You Yu" patterned hollowed-out blue-and-white revolving heart vase valued at 550 million.
A decade ago, 10,000 Yuan was the threshold for entry-level collectors.
Today, even 100,000 Yuan is barely the starting point for low-end collections, with high-end pieces commanding prices in the tens or even hundreds of millions. The heat of the antique market was palpable.
Countless hopefuls flooded the market, eager to stumble upon an undervalued gem they could flip for a fortune overnight.
Yet, only a select few ever struck gold, as authenticating antiques is a complex and specialized discipline. Most who ventured into the market ended up with nothing more than a lesson in disappointment, often paying steep prices for counterfeits.
But Tantrum was there for the real deal, armed with a certainty that he would find genuine treasures, thanks to his mastery of the Relic Arts.
Even at level 1, his Relic Arts enabled him to discern the authenticity of antiques with precision. After all, if one couldn't differentiate between the real and the fake, what good was the art of relics? It would be nothing short of a farce.
Tantrum meandered through the antique market, pausing at each stall to scrutinize the wares with a meticulous eye. To an onlooker, he blended in with the crowd, yet beneath the surface, he was covertly employing his heightened senses to inspect the items.
These senses were an invaluable tool for a Relic Arts Master, allowing them to discern the authenticity of antiques. When perceived through this unique ability, genuine antiques revealed layers of colored runes. The hue of these runes indicated the relic's value to a practitioner of the Relic Arts, with a spectrum ranging from red for the lowest grade to the most esteemed purple.
The lowest tier was signified by red runes, while the highest bore purple. The full gamut included red, orange, yellow, green, azure, blue, and purple.
His grandfather's treasured Dragon Gallbladder Bright Silver Spear was adorned with azure runes, marking it as a level 5 relic, both exceedingly rare and valuable. Tantrum had long yearned for it, but his grandfather cherished it deeply, rarely even allowing Tantrum to lay a finger on it.
After perusing several stalls without spotting a single relic of worth, Tantrum's spirits dipped. It seemed that the majority of the market's offerings were mere imitations.
On the rare occasion he did encounter an item of some age, it was invariably too damaged to hold significant value, offering no benefit to his Relic Arts training. To someone of Tantrum's discerning taste, they were hardly worth a second glance.
"Come one, come all, take a peek at this freshly unearthed artifact, going for a steal..."
A boisterous vendor's call pierced the air, drawing Tantrum's attention to its source. And upon laying eyes on the item, he was rooted to the spot, his gaze alight with sheer astonishment.
