Chapter 30: Smart People

The next day at work, Song Xilan kept thinking to herself that she was a person with a hidden treasure, and she couldn’t help but grin.

That was so much money—enough that if she ever wanted to eat roast goose, she could buy two at once, eat one, and throw the other away.

Forget it, maybe she shouldn’t throw it away. It would be a waste. She’d eat both!

Juanzi leaned over: “What’s got you so happy? Look at you smiling—did you find some money?”

Song Xilan smiled: “Hehe!” Even happier than finding money, but she couldn’t say too much. Her mom had said it would make people jealous. “My mom said we’re having roast chicken tonight. That’s why I’m happy.”

“You, always thinking about food! Is there anything else on your mind?”

“Food is the most important thing to people. What’s wrong with always thinking about food?”

Juanzi said, “By the way, does your family have any old portraits? Yesterday, someone came to our yard to collect old portraits, and a lot of people sold theirs for money. He said he’d be back today, so I had my uncles, aunts, and cousins bring over the old portraits from their homes. You can make a lot of money!”

Song Xilan exclaimed, “Wow, you’re so smart! Why didn’t I think of that?”

“I’m telling you this because I consider you a good friend. But don’t tell anyone else, okay? If too many people know, he might not accept them all.”

Song Xilan nodded repeatedly: “Mm-hmm, I know. Thank you!”

But Juanzi wasn’t the only smart one in the neighborhood. What she thought of, others had already thought of.

In the evening, when the person who was collecting portraits entered the compound, a large crowd immediately surrounded him. They were all holding rolls of portraits they’d gotten from relatives and friends, waiting to sell them!

The man inwardly groaned. He hadn’t even caught the big fish yet, and the bait was already running out!

He quickly lowered the price to twenty cents per portrait.

When people heard this, they weren’t happy: “Why are you paying three yuan for theirs but only twenty cents for mine? This isn’t fair!”

These days, everything was about equality—even working in a workshop was the same. Whether you worked hard or hardly worked, everyone got the same salary and bonus. If not, it was considered unequal, and people would say you were dividing them into different classes.

What’s more, these portraits were ones they had promised to sell and share the money with others.

“You said yesterday that you’d pay the original price today! How can you go back on your word?”

The man was surrounded by angry neighbors, who looked ready to make sure he couldn’t leave the compound unless he paid the original price for the portraits.

At this moment, Song Xilan purposely took out her frame: “Huh, aren’t you collecting them? I just finally found this one and was hoping to exchange it for some money.”

When the man saw it, the big fish he had been waiting for had finally appeared, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. He quickly shouted, “I’ll take this one, miss!”

“Why are you taking hers and not ours?” A man finally managed to push through the crowd but was quickly shoved back.

The man, with a sad face, said, “I’ll take them all, okay? But you’ve all brought too many! I really don’t have that much money. I’m only offering twenty cents per portrait.

That’s already very generous Xilan purposely raised her voice, “So cheap? In that case, forget it. I’m not selling it. It’s only a few cents. I might as well keep the frame. It’s still useful!”

“No, no, no, miss, I’ll take yours, five yuan for the whole frame,” the man shouted loudly, not caring about what Jiang Jingru had told him—he needed to act casual, so people wouldn’t realize that his main goal was to get his hands on the frame in Song Xilan’s possession.

The crowd around them became more agitated: “Why is she getting five yuan for hers, but ours is only worth twenty cents? You’re looking down on us!”

Song Xilan also pretended to be scared: “I… I think I won’t sell it after all!” She said this while hugging the frame and about to run back home.

“Take it!” The man was desperate, “I’ll take them all, okay?”

Helpless, and fearing that Song Xilan might discover the secret of the frame when she returned, he reluctantly began accepting a batch of worthless, damaged portraits at the original price, ranging from two to three yuan, based on their condition.

As he collected them, his heart bled.

Song Xilan purposely stayed behind, watching him collect everyone else’s portraits, before slowly walking over: “Uncle, we have an old portrait at home, besides this frame. Do you want to take it?”

The man, annoyed, snapped: “Yes, yes, I’ll take it. Hand it over!”

The transaction was done. He exchanged money for goods.

When he took the frame, his hands shook with excitement. The wealth was practically in his hands now.

That woman from the art troupe, Jiang Jingru, was nothing!

Zhang Jinbao was just a junk collector.

The night before, Jiang Jingru had come to him, given him a hundred yuan, and asked him to collect portraits from the Limin Food Factory dormitory.

The portraits were a cover; the real objective was to secretly get his hands on a frame the size of a book from the Song family.

Jiang Jingru had promised to give him 300 yuan as a reward once the task was completed.

He might be poor, but he wasn’t stupid. Adding the 100 yuan she had given him in advance, if she was willing to spend 400 yuan on this frame, it meant its true value was definitely much higher than that.

So, he secretly followed Jiang Jingru and saw her meet with someone else, an antique dealer.

Seeing her meeting with the dealer, Zhang Jinbao knew he had hit the jackpot.

Having collected junk for over a decade, he had seen his share of valuable antiques that people didn’t know the worth of, sold off casually as junk. When these items ended up in the hands of those who recognized their value, they could be sold for a hundred times their price.

He had been dreaming of becoming rich overnight, but unfortunately, luck had never been on his side—until now.

Now, with the frame in hand, Jiang Jingru’s involvement didn’t matter anymore! He could already see piles of cash calling out to him.

“Alright, alright, I’ve collected enough. I’m out of money now, no more collecting for today!” Zhang Jinbao, holding his prized frame in one hand and a bag full of portraits in the other, was ready to leave.

Suddenly, someone shouted, “The big hat is here!”

Two officers in police uniforms appeared in front of him: “You’re Zhang Jinbao, right? We’ve received a report from the public that you’re suspected of engaging in illegal activities. Please come with us.”

Zhang Jinbao, bewildered, protested: “Officers, I’m just a junk collector! I’m collecting some old portraits, how is that illegal?”

“Whether it’s illegal or not, you can tell us when we get back to the station.”

After Jiang Chengxiao said those words, the barrage in Song Xilan’s mind paused for a moment.

When it started rolling again, the wind had shifted.

[No matter how you look at it, letting national treasures leave the country is something that definitely shouldn’t have happened.]

[Didn’t someone mention before that in the future, we spent 29.99 million yuan to buy back a genuine Mi Fu artwork? It hurts so much, really hurts.]

[For those who watched the original plot, when I saw this scene the first time, I didn’t even think about this aspect. I just felt that the female lead suddenly made tens of thousands and thought it was quite satisfying. It really shouldn’t have been like this.]

[Actually, we can’t entirely blame Jiang Jingru. She only contacted the antique dealers. She can’t decide who they sell the items to!]

At this point, Jiang Jingru angrily shouted, “What does it have to do with me? Taxpayers support you, and protecting the country is your duty. It’s supposed to be your responsibility! Didn’t the country give you compensation when someone dies? It’s not like I killed him. Why are you mad at me? I just wanted to make some money and live a good life. Is that wrong?”