Suddenly, there were even more gasping spectators in the room.
“What now?” Lu Ningshuang asked.
She was getting used to it.
She turned around and saw Qin Yushu standing there too, looking at the latest unpacked items—scrolls of paintings and calligraphy.
Qin Yushu wasn’t deeply into antiques; at most, she’d attended a few auctions and seen some displayed at elders’ homes. After all, President Qin was still in her prime, not at that age yet.
But her calligraphy was genuinely practiced. She couldn’t just invent her own style from nothing, so in her youth, she had studied various masters’ forms and fonts.
Some of which were authentic.
This time, no need for others; Qin Yushu pointed directly at one—a masterpiece from the Qi Dynasty calligraphy master Gu Xizhi, sealed with his red clay stamp, which happened to be her favorite.
The Qi Dynasty’s literary style flourished, producing countless talents, literati, and calligraphers, shining brightly through history. For Gu Xizhi to stand out in such a brilliant era teeming with geniuses spoke to his extraordinary talent.
Qin Yushu asked, “What about this one?”
First time shy, second time familiar.
Lu Ningshuang’s reply was concise and forceful: “Fake. Replica.”
This was one of Master Gu’s most famous three pieces—Not Seeking Immortality.
The characters on the authentic post were bold and elegant, dancing like soaring dragons, with strokes carrying a rugged, free-spirited air, as if emerging from misty immortal woods.
The phrasing and wording flowed effortlessly, making one believe that mortals truly didn’t envy immortals.
Qin Yushu mentally compared it closely to the only inherited scroll of Gu’s she owned.
Though the brushwork varied slightly, certain subtle habits matched perfectly.
If anything, this one was even better.
At that time, the piece she practiced copying was merely one of Gu Xizhi’s early works, far less renowned than his later three masterpieces.
Practicing calligraphy was a process of constant improvement, whether in brushwork or artistic conception. It didn’t necessarily get better and better, but it reached a peak at some point, inevitably producing a few timeless classics.
Qin Yushu naturally wouldn’t nitpick like the others before her.
Although she had obtained an authentic piece by Master Gu in her youth—thanks to her preferences, financial means, and a stroke of luck—she cherished it greatly.
Yet her affection stopped there.
As the future heir of the Qin Family, she had countless subjects to study from a young age, and this was just one minor pursuit among them. She knew a bit about it, but not much.
She wasn’t an expert, nowhere near able to discern authenticity at a glance, let alone flaunt her shallow knowledge everywhere.
“So where did this piece come from?” Qin Yushu turned to Lu Ningshuang and asked. “Who wrote it?”
The beauty’s eyes were truly exquisite—long and alluring, with upturned corners that brimmed with emotion whenever they focused intently on one person.
“Lady Ning!”
Lu Ningshuang answered immediately, spilling the whole story before adding, “That’s my mom.”
“Aunt… Mother-in-law?” The words reached Qin Yushu’s lips, but she changed them at the last moment.
Even Lu Ningshuang felt awkward at the thought of “mother-in-law.” “Yeah, she just enjoys copying famous calligraphic styles as a hobby.”
Similar to Old Lu’s fondness for collecting “fake antiques,” Lu Ningshuang’s mother, Lady Ning, was a calligraphy enthusiast.
Back when Lu Ningshuang could barely recognize characters, the house wasn’t yet filled with all those bizarre vases and jars. Instead, it was covered in rice paper, ink, and copybooks.
Ning Ruosu often hunched over the small dining table at home, writing away. She could fill several sheets with the same text in different styles.
Perhaps due to this early exposure, Lu Ningshuang picked it up faster than Old Lu’s vases.
And these copybooks were all white paper with black ink—maybe just a change in format or an added seal—far harder to distinguish than those colorful vases!
Even now, Lu Ningshuang couldn’t tell one from another. As a child, when she visited her grandparents, they sighed that she hadn’t inherited her mother’s talent or hobby.
But soon enough, their attention shifted elsewhere.
—What could be more fun than stuffing the little one with food?! So every time she returned from her grandparents’, little Lu Ningshuang’s belly was round and full, without learning a single useful thing.
Now, as Lu Ningshuang examined the pieces, she suddenly nodded. “Oh, it’s this one.”
“Which one?” Qin Yushu asked.
The calligraphy world?
She always felt the surname Ning rang a faint bell…
“Here.”
Lu Ningshuang pointed to a corner. Upon closer inspection, there was a distinct yellow stain on the aged, yellowed paper.
Lu Ningshuang explained, “This seems to be from when my mom was writing it. During a family meal with soup, my chopsticks weren’t steady yet, and I accidentally splashed some on it.”
“We didn’t notice at the time. It was only much later that we saw it had turned this color.”
Qin Yushu glanced at the spot, then at Lu Ningshuang.
She understood.
This was probably Lu Ningshuang’s unique way of proving they were all “fakes.”
Qin Yushu knew a fair bit about Master Gu.
Legend had it that his three masterpieces were kept within the family, never to be shared outside, so no authentic copies circulated on the market.
Her thoughts came to a halt there.
And sure enough, Lu Ningshuang was unfazed. “So yeah, they’re all fakes. I’ve seen these since I was little—how could I not know? Don’t worry about it; they’re replicas.”
Truth be told, Lu Ningshuang felt a bit embarrassed. Her parents’ wedding gifts were all “antique replicas” from home.
They weren’t worth much, making Qin Yushu’s side look like they were receiving junk. And unluckily, there were guests today—the designers rushing Lu Ningshuang’s gown, who counted as guests too?
The only upside was that as long as you didn’t touch them, they wouldn’t “break,” and they could last longer in storage?
While Lu Ningshuang was lost in thought, the other items were unpacked one by one.
With so many “replicas” at home, Lady Ning hadn’t sent just this one imitation of Master Gu’s work.
There were more copybooks and paintings afterward. Though not quite on the level of that unparalleled piece among his three masterpieces, they were still impressive by comparison.
The “originals” they imitated were priceless rarities on the market.
Ning Ruosu’s high-fidelity replication skills were truly masterful.
First off, the three vermilion seals on Master Gu’s copybook were positioned perfectly—not one more, not one less.
Some pieces were even famous among outsiders precisely because a certain emperor in the past adored them, carrying them everywhere and stamping his personal seal whenever he was delighted.
Like a little dog marking its territory—now those rare copybooks were covered in red stamps, looking chewed up.
It was hard to tell if one was admiring the calligraphy or the seals.
One wondered if the calligraphy masters would leap in rage if they knew, rolling up the scrolls and taking them to the grave to rot!
Master Gu was wise, instructing his descendants to preserve them carefully. They remained pristine to this day, untouched.
When Ning Ruosu “forged” them, she even sewed those seals in!
What clever ingenuity.
Lu Ningshuang nodded approvingly at each unpacked item.
Not bad, not bad—mostly old family “antiques,” some she remembered, others new ones she hadn’t seen.
Probably ones Lady Ning had newly practiced… ahem, replicated during Lu Ningshuang’s college years.
Qin Yushu even recognized one: over two years ago, it appeared at an auction in the city, fetching 60 million in the end. Rumor had it a super mysterious, low-profile hidden master clan—whose lineage spanned far more than a century—had bought it…
She had been there in person. Even as she began consolidating power in the Qin Family, she didn’t qualify to meet the buyer.
No one else did either.
—The buyer was just that low-key!
But this family had a hobby, or perhaps a kind heart…
For antiques and paintings they acquired, they kept the authentic ones for themselves. For calligraphy, they’d make rubbings and share them online for study; for antiques, they’d post photos to prove the real deal was safe, warning others not to waste money on fakes. Sometimes, after enjoying them, they’d donate to national museums for free, enriching the collections.
Such open generosity.
The “replicas” leaking from Lu Ningshuang’s parents’ hobbies perfectly matched this family’s habits.
Coincidence?
Or fleecing the same sheep?
Vases were visually striking, stunning at first glance even to the ignorant.
Calligraphy and paintings required appreciation; exquisite yet understated, like a mountain stream’s flow.
With these gems unpacked first, emotions had calmed somewhat by the time the large chest was fully emptied.
Only one item remained.
Housekeeper Nangong picked up the last survivor and looked at the two women. “Miss, Madam…”
Lu Ningshuang reached out. “I’ll do it!”
She truly couldn’t recall any tiny “indistinguishable fake” junk at home. Old Lu’s collection had no such small bottles—maybe a bowl?
What good was a bowl? For eating from?
And in Qin Yushu’s elegant villa, displaying a bowl would look downright odd!
Lu Ningshuang hesitated.
Still, she awkwardly tore into the package.
Compared to Housekeeper Nangong’s cautious handling—afraid to damage anything—Lu Ningshuang was far rougher.
She ripped it open with a screech, making the onlookers wince.
Fortunately, the packaging was sturdy.
Peel off one layer of cardboard, then foam…
Lu Ningshuang: “Huh?”
“What is it?”
Qin Yushu had stood there since the vase drew her over, witnessing the entire unboxing of the calligraphy.
Now she stood right beside Lu Ningshuang, leaning in close.
Their similar heights made it seem like she was resting her head on a shoulder, her long curls adding an indescribable intimacy.
Housekeeper Nangong was too stunned to think, her inner CEO tropes firing: This is the first time Miss has been so close to someone. With a pleased tone in her mind.
Lu Ningshuang: “It’s… a box?”
Qin Yushu looked over.
Indeed, a square black box. Unlike the casual wrapping of the vase and scrolls, this was meticulously packaged.
It carried an unusual aura.
Qin Yushu said casually, “Why don’t you take a look, Miss Lu? Real or fake?”
She was joking, but her “Miss Lu” sounded worlds apart from a stranger’s—intimate, given their closeness.
The next second.
The box was thrust into her hands.
?
Lu Ningshuang met the beauty’s eyes earnestly. “You do it.”
—Obviously, this was for Qin Yushu. None of the earlier stuff was for her; she’d seen it all a million times!
She wouldn’t overstep now.
Qin Yushu was mildly surprised but didn’t refuse. She arched a brow, her slender fingers resting on the box—ebony against snow-white skin.
She gripped both ends and gently lifted the lid.
Inside, red velvet cradled a tricolor Fu Lu Shou Jade Pendant in white, green, and yellow.
Men wore Guanyin, women Buddhas, they said.
The Maitreya Buddha carving was exquisite—chubby and endearing, lifelike, with the Fu-Lu-Shou colors blending fluidly, enhancing its delicacy and luster.
Even Qin Yushu raised a brow, glancing at her Alpha beside her.
The others had long fixed their gazes on Lu Ningshuang, eager for her next verdict.
No malice.
Just that her debunks—”fake,” “replica”—were endlessly entertaining.
They could watch forever, like Teletubbies chanting “again, again…”
Lu Ningshuang stared at the Fu Lu Shou Buddha Pendant, brow furrowed in thought.
After a moment.
She intoned solemnly: “This one might actually be real.”
Everyone: Huh?????????
