Worse, he’d tipped off Yu Zhensheng. Yu Corporation had put out word while his dad and uncles were under investigation, causing panic in their company and sending the stock price plummeting.
His family was already leaderless; now they were in total disarray. Some capitals took advantage to snatch market share, costing them massively in just days.
Worse still, the momentum continued. If his dad and uncles didn’t get out, the Cui Family was done for…
Yu Qingxian: “What are you talking about, Young Master Cui? Eyes and ears inside? My biggest asset is just Xingyao, and the people I deal with are limited… Are you misunderstanding something?”
He knew the “insider” Cui Ran sought was right beside him, but they’d gotten his intel source wrong. It seemed someone close to Big Brother had leaked it—Big Brother didn’t even know the full story, so others misunderstood even more.
With Yu Qingxian refusing to admit it, Cui Ran was helpless. He gritted his teeth and went in first. He still needed to beg for help—no time to spar verbally with Yu Qingxian. They’d settle scores later!
Yu Qingxian didn’t miss Cui Ran’s final venomous glare, but he ignored it. Instead, he turned to Chu Yi with interest. “So, what do you think?”
“What do I think?” Chu Yi blinked, then caught the hint in President Yu’s eyes. “Oh, you mean his physiognomy? Don’t worry—dark clouds overhead, the look of financial ruin and family decline.”
Yu Qingxian: “How do you read it? Do Xuan Arts Masters rely on talent too?”
“It’s decent…” Seeing his interest, Chu Yi simply analyzed Cui Ran’s physiognomy. They chatted intently the whole way, unaware that others had noticed.
The Yu Third Young Master brought a strange handsome guy—and seemed to value him highly. Something was up?
Yu Qingxian first took Chu Yi to meet the host, Old Zheng. Old Zheng looked advanced in age, but more critically, his energy was poor—like he’d suffered some recent setback. The gloom in his eyes couldn’t be hidden.
Chu Yi raised a brow and, during the handshake, took Old Zheng’s pulse. It basically confirmed things. No wonder a collector like Old Zheng was selling off his treasures!
Old Zheng had other guests to greet, so Yu Qingxian didn’t linger. He led Chu Yi to view the exhibits. Chu Yi had his eye on a Purple Wood Carving before; today, besides bidding on a set of Ancient Coins, that was his main target.
“How about it? Still got life force?” Yu Qingxian eyed the Purple Wood inside the crystal case—withered, dry, glossy from carving. He couldn’t believe the thing was alive.
And Chu Yi said it was Purple Flower Bamboo, not Purple Wood.
“It does.” Chu Yi smiled, but his good mood vanished at the string of zeros on the price tag.
Was it too late to tell President Yu he wasn’t buying the villa? But without the villa, raising the Purple Flower Bamboo lost meaning. Its pollen nourished herbs; planted in the yard with medicinal plants nearby, it became a natural spiritual Qi generator.
Yu Qingxian: “Owing three billion or five billion—it’s all the same.”
Chu Yi turned to him, seeing the casual indifference, as if someone owing him three or five billion was no big deal.
Chu Yi’s mouth twitched. “Does President Yu just like making people owe you money?”
Yu Qingxian: “Better than me owing others, right?”
“Not necessarily. Folks online say the debtor’s the real boss now.”
Chu Yi paused, then added, “What if I tell Old Zheng I can lift the Childless Curse on him—would he give me a discount?”
Two hundred million was a ripoff—a tenth off would be more like it.
“What curse? You mean my foster fathers aren’t sick—they’re cursed?!” Yu Qingxian hadn’t spoken when a capable yet feminine young woman behind them cut in first.
Her voice was loud enough to draw nearby guests’ attention; some even whispered among themselves.
The woman glanced around, an apologetic smile on her face. “Sorry about that. I’m Zheng Danrui, the Zheng Family’s adopted daughter. Could we step aside to talk?”
Yu Qingxian looked to Chu Yi, who had planned exactly this, so of course he didn’t refuse.
Zheng Danrui also saw clearly: between them, the Yu Third Young Master wasn’t calling the shots. The overly handsome young man had spoken up first, and the Third Young Master trusted him so much—he must have real skills.
They went into a nearby lounge. Zheng Danrui called a waiter to fetch Old Zheng, then smiled awkwardly at the two. “Truth be told, we suspected food or feng shui issues before and called in pros—they found nothing. How did you spot it, young man? You say you can lift it—got confidence?”
Before Chu Yi could reply, she continued, “If you have a way, forget discount—that Purple Wood Carving is yours outright.”
It wasn’t her as an adopted daughter overstepping; Old Zheng sold his treasures painfully to pay debts and fund treatment for her foster father (Old Zheng’s son), foster brother, and their kids. A huge family devoured special meds daily, not to mention foreign experts flown in. A Purple Wood Carving was nothing.
