CHAPTER 304: CHAPTER 97: THE OLD RELICS

"Who can ensure what you’re saying is true?" Some people in the audience were skeptical.

Who can guarantee that Pello isn’t a plant, even in the most sophisticated auction houses, so-called plants appear—a young man in his twenties narrating a story from half a century ago without any proof.

"If you don’t believe what I say, and Director Luo is from the auction side, then you should at least believe what Mr. Traus says, right?" Pello made no further pointless explanation and respectfully gestured to the foreign guest from Christie’s Auction House who had been leaning by the podium observing the cushion.

The Chief Connoisseur of Christie’s Asian Region was suddenly called out by a young man; he couldn’t fathom how the young man knew his identity. Since he was discovered, he had no choice but to step forward.

Reminded by Pello, a few people in the audience indeed recalled Mr. Traus, and the previous doubts were somewhat lowered.

As soon as Mr. Traus took the stage, he shed the appearance of a regular guest. He picked up the cushion and started closely examining the fur and patterns.

If it had been a common Snow Bear cushion, it would be difficult to identify, but this particular one with thick fur endured from the harsh cold of Siberia was unique. After inspecting it, Mr. Traus blurted out fluently in the language of Country Z, "I can confirm this leather product is of Soviet Union make, and indeed it has a history, but... I have never personally seen the great leader’s personal belongings, so I cannot be certain."

Listening to his fluent Country Z language, Su Ziceng was annoyed by the foreigner’s earlier deliberately difficult English and his increasingly dubious statements.

"I’ve seen that cushion," finally someone else spoke among the guests, Qiu Zhi’s grandmother, a frail old woman, attracted everyone’s attention.

"Not only have I seen it, but I think Old Man Wen would find it somewhat familiar too," the two oldest people in the room, with the richest life experiences, exchanged glances. Different sparks flickered in their eyes.

Old Master Wen laughed heartily: "Old lady, it seems your memory is stronger than mine; I didn’t recognize it at first glance, only recalling just now."

The Wen family and the Qiu Family, being the last remnant powers from the old society who first submitted to the new government, attended the first National People’s Congress, where they were received by the central leader of the time.

"In a public event, we were fortunate to meet Mr. Deng, who always carried a cushion just like this one with him," Old Master Wen reminisced, and some things become clearer the more time passes.

"The patches on the cushion were all in a five-star shape," Qiu Zhi’s grandmother, being a woman, paid more attention than Old Master Wen to the details of sewing and embroidery.

The identity of the cushion was now as firm as a slab nailed tight, but facing such an auction item, its significance far outweighed its value.

The Chief Appraiser of Christie’s doubted, he had mentally appraised the cushion too; an extremely high price was impossible, after all, how much could an old cushion of bear skin fetch.

But this is where Country Z differed from other nations. The people of Country Z have a special, almost antique-like patriotic sentiment towards their long-lived great leader.

"This cushion, it must be secured," whispered some government officials aside, "Mr. Deng is the weathervane of our country, the flag must not fall."

"Mr. Deng is nearly a hundred years old and he personally planned several domestic reforms; that cushion truly possesses immortal energy," some elderly people nearing ancient ages discussed.

"It was gifted by General Ye to Mr. Deng. When General Ye commanded troops against the Japanese invaders, you were young, you don’t know how formidable he was in battle, and the Su family needs this spirit," Chang Mei instructed Chang Chi.

Chang Chi nearly crushed the goblet in his hand, an old chair found somewhere and a worn cushion that didn’t invoke any desire to purchase—these people must be out of their minds.

Pello’s gaze firstly lingered on the face of the suddenly thrilled Su Ziceng, then moved across the spacious hall, settling on Shang Yin in the corner, who was smiling.

With just one glance, Shang Yin understood. "Crazy," Shang Yin hadn’t taken the bidding paddle offered by the receptionist before, but Pello’s glance was obviously meant for him to step in and bid for that cushion.

"What a hassle, had I known, I wouldn’t have listened to Chang Chi’s crazy idea to steal that chair," the previous day, Chang Chi had insisted, coaxing Shang Yin to arrange people to give Su Ziceng’s auction a "special" gift.

Shang Yin caught a glimpse of an infuriated Chang Chi grinding his teeth beside him. From Shang Yin’s point of view, he would rather bid on the splendid Dragon Chair than the historically revolutionary "great man’s cushion."

In the venue, a bidding storm ensued; Christie’s Chief Appraiser was immediately infected by the special sentiments of the people of Country Z, with impossible prices being called.

Although the price could have been driven even higher, when the silent Shang Yin raised the bidding paddle, the price finally settled down.

"Two million," proclaiming a fervent tribute to the great leader, the price of the cushion was finally fixed at the exaggerated figure of two million. Such is the people of Country Z; Terence watched the jubilant Shang Yin receiving the auction item, seeing not just a cushion but a door to a massively flowing auction market of Country Z, flung wide open. (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to visit Qidian (qidian.com) to vote your recommendation ticket and monthly ticket. Your support is my greatest motivation.)