“Grandmother Yu, don’t let anger harm your health. In dealing with Zhang Jiadong, Uncle Xu might have been too hasty and didn’t consider Xiaolan. Let’s not dwell on the past. Uncle Xu’s antique trading business wasn’t just for profit—you should let him explain.”
Zhou Cheng’s defense of Xu Zhongyi was half praise, half criticism.
Emphasizing how Xu Zhongyi hadn’t considered his wife’s welfare, Grandmother Yu gripped her cane, ready to strike her son again. This time, Xu Changle knelt to plead for mercy.
Xu Changle didn’t ask her not to beat his father, just if she could postpone it.
If she beat his father to death, he and his sister Tina would lose their mother first, then their father, becoming orphans.
Blood still flowed from Xu Zhongyi’s head.
This Xu Changle was truly clever.
Grandmother Yu finally let Xu Zhongyi go bandage his wounds.
When Xu Zhongyi returned, he knelt before the old lady for the third time, thoroughly explaining his reasons for the antique business:
“…Initially these people took me in, then seeing my talent in this field, they made me their leader. This business isn’t entirely legitimate, but it allowed easier access to America. Shipping antiques abroad required dealing with local gangs, which I saw as an opportunity to confront Zhang Jiadong. There’s another reason—back then, Zhang Jiadong had his men steal the antiques I’d brought to America. He sold them as startup capital. I knew those pieces were family treasures from your parents, which I lost in America. I wanted to recover them!”
Lost money could be earned back.
But there couldn’t be two identical vases in the world.
The Yu family’s pieces were unique—these antiques weren’t just valuable items, but the old lady’s last tangible connections to the Yu family.
The former glory of Yu Bancheng was hard to restore. Xu Zhongyi was obsessed with recovering the items he had lost.
Without finding them, he felt ashamed to return!
Grandmother Yu hadn’t expected this reason.
What vases, what antique treasures—how could dead objects compare to living people?
If the whole family could live in harmony, Grandmother Yu would gladly smash all these things!
Xu Zhongyi didn’t think this way. He instructed Xu Changle:
“Changle, have them bring in the items.”
Xu Zhongyi hadn’t carried so many boxes when he landed.
He’d arranged for others to deliver them to Shangdu. Soon, Xu Zhongyi’s men brought in boxes that filled the room. Arranged in a line, Xu Zhongyi personally opened them, presenting each item to Grandmother Yu for inspection:
“Back then I only lost half the items. Of the remaining pieces, I gave one blue-and-white vase as thanks to those who saved me. The rest I wouldn’t sell even if I was starving. The pieces Zhang Jiadong took, I’ve bought back through various means over the years, including repurchasing the gifted vase. Everything I took abroad, I’ve brought back completely intact.”
Xu Zhongyi wasn’t boasting; he was simply stating facts.
Grandmother Yu wanted to curse him for being unfilial, for being foolish, but her throat felt blocked.
Xia Xiaolan examined each piece with Zhou Cheng. These items were truly exquisite, genuine artistic treasures.
She couldn’t estimate their value.
Having attended one of Xu Zhongyi’s auctions, she knew any single piece would likely cause a bidding war among collectors.
Redeeming the pieces Zhang Jiadong had sold must have taken tremendous effort and money!
Grandmother Yu had thought the valuables caused the trouble.
Without these antiques brought to America, Xu Zhongyi wouldn’t have caught the San Francisco gang’s attention.
Now she knew it was related to Cui Yiru’s affair.
No chance remained to flay Zhang Jiadong alive—Cui Yiru had killed him, his body now in Hong Kong. Was Grandmother Yu supposed to go to Hong Kong to whip his corpse?
Looking at these antique treasures, Grandmother Yu showed no joy at their recovery.
“Can these be donated?”
What?!
Grandmother Yu’s sudden words stunned even Xia Xiaolan.
“You mean, donate them to the country?”
Both Xu Zhongyi and Xu Changle were surprised.
Especially Xu Zhongyi—recovering these family pieces had been almost as important as revenge. He hadn’t expected his mother, upon seeing them, would want to give them away.
Xu Zhongyi wanted to say reuniting these pieces was as difficult as their family’s reunion.
There was also their value…
But he said nothing.
These items were originally left to his mother by his grandfather.
However, his mother wanted to handle them was fine.
He had simply returned the antiques to their rightful owner.
“If you want to donate them, go ahead.”
Speaking these words, Xu Zhongyi felt inexplicably lighter.
Zhang Jiadong’s death had removed one mountain from his heart.
Letting go of his obsession with these antiques seemed to remove another… How could he not feel unburdened?
Xia Xiaolan remembered news reports from her previous life and didn’t think donation was the best approach. She said directly to Grandmother Yu: “Maybe hold off on donating for now. I think Uncle Xu could build a private museum as a Hong Kong merchant and display these antique treasures there.”
If Grandmother Yu and Xu Zhongyi were willing to donate, Xia Xiaolan wouldn’t feel more attached than them.
No matter how valuable, the owners could dispose of their property as they wished.
But Xia Xiaolan knew how chaotic the relevant institutions’ management was—weren’t there many cases of fakes replacing originals, with the real pieces being stolen and sold?
The donation was fine.
But it should be meaningful—letting parasites sell them would waste Grandmother Yu’s generosity.
Better to build a private museum, display everything there, and manage it themselves for better security.
Zhou Cheng also knew something of these matters. While China certainly had dedicated research experts in this field, government funding was limited, and their workload enormous:
“Even if you donate them, they might not be able to care for these pieces properly. When I visited the Forbidden City as a child, I saw vases and vessels carelessly displayed… But when I went to America recently, Xiaolan took me to museums in New York where all exhibits were under glass cases, not even allowing flash photography. Xiaolan means building a modern private museum, right?”
Xia Xiaolan’s suggestion made Xu Zhongyi ponder.
Xu Changle couldn’t help but look at her.
The idea was perfectly appropriate!
Though Grandmother Yu didn’t want to deal with Xu Zhongyi, she valued Xia Xiaolan’s words. Building a private museum seemed truly feasible.
She grabbed Xia Xiaolan’s hand, “Tell me more about it.”
…
Grandmother Yu kept Xia Xiaolan in the room and drove Xu Zhongyi out.
Xu Changle followed behind. Though he wanted to stay with his grandmother, he wasn’t too anxious—there would be plenty of time later. The courtyard stirred familiar feelings in Xu Changle everywhere, triggering his memories.
Xu Zhongyi interrupted his son’s reverie:
“Your grandmother says not to repay Xiao Xia and her family with money, but we can’t do anything. They’ve been caring for your grandmother these past few years. To say they’re after money—Xiao Xia’s career is successful, she doesn’t need your grandmother’s money. So, we need to think carefully about how to repay them.”