Can't afford to pay for the takeout? Stunning CEO: Then pay with your body!

Chapter 92 Birthday Banquet!

The air in the hall felt like it was filled with lead, so stuffy that it was hard to breathe.

Nie Zhenbang's cloudy yet sharp old eyes were fixed on Zhang Yan.

The murderous aura that had been there just moments before had strangely subsided somewhat at this moment.

He stopped looking at his trembling grandson Nie Fan on the ground and threw the magnifying glass he was using to authenticate the fake painting onto the table.

A crisp "clang" sounded, like some kind of signal.

"You have some sense."

Nie Zhenbang spoke, his voice hoarse and unreadable, "Being able to see through 'Blind Zhang's' methods means you're not blind in the antique business."

These words sounded like a compliment, but anyone could tell that there was no warmth in the tone.

Nie Qingcheng subconsciously took half a step forward, blocking Zhang Yan's path: "Grandpa, Zhang Yan, he..."

Did I give you permission to speak?

Nie Zhenbang didn't even lift his eyelids, but simply tapped the table lightly.

Nie Qingcheng froze.

Nie Zhenbang looked at Zhang Yan again, a mocking smile playing on his lips: "You have a good eye, but unfortunately, a good eye can't put food on the table, much less be given as a birthday gift."

He pointed to the smashed fake painting on the ground.

"Although Nie Fan is foolish for buying counterfeit goods, at least he's willing to spend money, and his filial piety is genuine."

"And you?"

Nie Zhenbang leaned forward slightly, and that overwhelming pressure came down once again.

"As Qingcheng's boyfriend, this is your first time visiting to offer birthday wishes. Since you look down on Nie Fan's paintings, what kind of outrageous treasures have you prepared for yourself?"

This tactic is called "retreating to advance".

Since you've won in the appraisal, I'll crush you financially.

Just moments ago, Nie Fan was like a quail, but upon hearing this, he grasped at the last straw and scrambled to his feet.

"Yes! Where's your gift?!"

Nie Fan wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his eyes filled with resentment. "You spoke so eloquently just now, belittling my painting to nothing. What did you bring yourself?"

"Don't tell me you came empty-handed!"

The surrounding guests also came to their senses, and whispers began again.

"Yeah, what's the use of just nitpicking?"

"I heard he's a gigolo. What good stuff could he possibly have? Probably not even a fraction of the value of that fake painting."

"I doubt it. They might just be here to freeload."

Countless gazes, like spotlights, were fixed on Zhang Yan, waiting to see him make a fool of himself.

Nie Qingcheng frowned, reached into her bag, and grasped the check that she had prepared long ago.

She had originally planned to use this check as a substitute if Zhang Yan wasn't prepared.

But before she could take her hand out, Zhang Yan pressed it down.

Zhang Yan blinked at her, then slowly took out a scroll from the Hermes bag that Nie Qingcheng used to carry with her.

There was no fancy packaging box.

There wasn't even a decent red string.

The scroll was held bare in my hand, the end of the scroll was made of ordinary wood, the paper looked brand new, and I could even smell the lingering stench of ink.

"puff--"

Someone in the crowd couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Nie Fan's eyes widened dramatically as he pointed at the scroll and laughed, "This is your birthday gift? A ten-yuan calendar poster from a street stall? You couldn't even afford a box?"

"Zhang Yan, do you think my grandma is easy to fool?"

"Bringing this piece of junk here to make a fool of yourself?"

Aunt Liu Yun, Nie's aunt, also covered her mouth and said sarcastically, "Oh dear, Qingcheng, you don't give this child enough pocket money, do you?"

"This is too shabby. If word gets out, people will think our Nie family is stingy."

Nie Zhenbang's face darkened completely as he looked at the simple scroll.

He felt like he had been tricked.

For a moment, he thought this kid really had some hidden skills, but it turns out this is all?

"Is this your gift?"

Nie Zhenbang's voice was icy cold. "Are you here to humiliate this old lady?"

"Grandpa, this..."

Nie Qingcheng panicked and wanted to explain.

Zhang Yan patted the back of her hand to reassure her.

Holding the scroll, he walked step by step to the center of the hall, facing the two elders in the main seats. His face showed no embarrassment, but rather a calm and composed demeanor.

"The old man is right, Young Master Nie Fan is indeed willing to spend money."

Zhang Yan smiled and said calmly, "But I'm used to being poor, and I'm a kept man, so I really don't have many coins in my pocket."

So, I didn't spend any money.

Didn't spend any money?

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

Is this kid crazy?

To openly admit in this kind of situation that you didn't spend any money?

This is like welding the labels of "stingy" and "gold digger" onto his forehead!

Nie Fan laughed until tears streamed down his face: "Hahaha! You didn't spend any money? Did you pick you up from a garbage dump?"

Zhang Yan ignored the ridicule around him and simply untied the rope on the scroll.

"Things bought with money are transactions, and they're bound to have a bit of a mercenary taint."

"Since it's a birthday celebration, I think the sentiment is the most important thing."

Zhang Yan held one end of the scroll and gave it a slight flick of his wrist.

"Splash—"

The scroll unfurled smoothly, like a white ribbon, drawing a graceful arc in the air before finally spreading steadily before everyone.

"So, I drew one myself."

The moment the words fell.

The hall, which was originally filled with laughter, sarcasm, and onlookers, suddenly seemed to have been muted.

A deathly silence.

Everyone's expressions froze on their faces, their mouths slightly agape, their eyes wide open, staring intently at the unfolded scroll as if it were some incredible miracle.

It was a horizontal scroll that was two meters long.

The paper is pure white, and the ink is rich and vibrant.

In the very center of the picture is a vigorous and ancient sycamore tree, its trunk winding like a dragon, its branches and leaves so thick they block out the sky.

And on the highest branch stood a phoenix, its body entirely fiery red.

The phoenix is ​​not a rigid totem; it stands tall and proud, its tail feathers spread out magnificently, each feather outlined with extremely fine brushstrokes, as if it were burning or flowing.

Its eyes were dotted with vermilion, exuding an air of noble and majestic dominance.

But that's not the most shocking part.

The most breathtaking sight was the hundreds of birds of various shapes and sizes that surrounded the phoenix.

Cranes, peacocks, golden pheasants, orioles, magpies...

Each bird is lifelike and has a different posture.

Some sang joyfully on the branches, some hovered in the air, and some bowed their heads in worship.

It is clearly a still ink painting, but when you stare at it, you can almost hear the chirping of hundreds of birds, smell the fragrance of the phoenix tree, and even feel the breeze brought up by the phoenix flapping its wings.

"A Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix"

A powerful, oppressive atmosphere swept over everyone present, making it hard for them to breathe.

"This...this..."

The antique expert who had just identified the painting as a fake now looked like he had seen a ghost. He scrambled to the painting, his face almost touching the paper.

His hands trembled as he wanted to touch it, yet dared not, for fear of soiling this masterpiece.

"These lines...this blending...this artistic conception..."

The expert's voice trembled, and tears streamed down his face without warning. "They're alive! They're all alive! This isn't just a painting; it's as if it has captured the very souls of a hundred birds!"

Nie Fan's smile froze, as if he had been slapped hard across the face, the pain burning intensely.

Although he doesn't understand painting, he's not blind.

Compared to this painting, what he just bought for millions was a fake, practically just toilet paper!

Nie Zhenbang couldn't sit still any longer.

He suddenly stood up, and in his haste, he knocked over the teacup in front of him, spilling tea all over the table without even noticing.

He stared intently at the phoenix, his eyes filled with shock.

The skill and grandeur of this painting are so impressive that even the original works hanging in the Forbidden City are no match for it.

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly came from the entrance of the hall.

"Make way! Make way, everyone!"

An old man dressed in a Tang suit pushed aside the guests blocking his way and hurriedly squeezed in.

It was Du Mingxuan.

He was originally sitting at the main table in the side hall, but the commotion here was so loud, and the faint scent of ink drew him over.

"Where? Where is it painted?"

As soon as Du Mingxuan rushed in, his eyes were fixed on the painting "A Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix".

"hiss--"

Du Mingxuan gasped, frozen in place for a full three seconds as if struck by lightning.

Then, he let out a scream and lunged forward.

"Wonderful! Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!"

Du Mingxuan circled the painting, gesticulating wildly as if he were insane. "This phoenix tree captures the power of a dragon! This phoenix embodies the spirit of rebirth! Especially these birds, each one has a different look in its eyes—that's the finishing touch! A stroke of genius!"

He whirled around, grabbed the antique expert by the collar, and shouted excitedly, "Old Li! Did you see that?! This is real traditional Chinese painting! This is true mastery of painting!"

"This brushwork blends Wu Daozi's line drawing with Zhang Daqian's splashed ink, and even has a touch of Western oil painting's sense of light and shadow! This is a master who founded a new school!"

The expert, Old Li, nodded frantically: "Old Du, this painting... if this painting were auctioned, it would fetch at least this much!"

He held up five fingers.

"Five million?" Nie Fan blurted out instinctively.

"Pah! Starting at fifty million! And even then, there's no market for it!"

Du Mingxuan spat angrily, "Five million? That's not even enough to buy a phoenix feather!"

boom!

Fifty million!

The entire venue erupted in cheers once again.

Everyone looked at Zhang Yan as if he were a monster.

This kid, whom they just mocked as a gigolo who delivers cheap goods, can make 50 million with a single stroke of his pen?

This guy is definitely not a gigolo.

This is practically a walking money-printing machine!

Nie Qingcheng stood aside, completely dumbfounded. When did this little rascal draw this?

She looked at Zhang Yan's profile, her heart pounding.

Zhang Yan, however, remained calm and composed.

He looked at Du Mingxuan, who was so excited he was about to have a heart attack, and smiled: "Mr. Du, take it easy, don't raise your blood pressure."

"Master Zhang! This...this really is your painting?"

Although Du Mingxuan had guessed it, he still couldn't help but want to confirm it.

"I had nothing to do last night, so I just did some casual drawing."

Zhang Yan shrugged. "Thinking that giving gold and silver would be too vulgar for the old lady's birthday, I painted a picture of a hundred birds paying homage to the phoenix for good luck."

Just drawing something?

Those around him felt like vomiting blood.

You call this random scribbling?

What do we usually call the drawings we make?

Is it some kind of scribbling?

Du Mingxuan rolled his eyes as he listened.

The level of Versailles is even higher than your painting skills!

"Great! What a fine example of 'just doodling'!"

Du Mingxuan turned around, cupped his hands to Old Madam Nie in the main seat, and said, "Sister-in-law, you've received a truly wonderful gift today! This painting is worthy of being a family heirloom for the Nie family, its fame lasting for generations!"

Grandma Nie was already beaming with joy.

Women, no matter their age, all like things that have auspicious meanings and are beautiful.

Moreover, the phoenix in the painting looks exactly like it's praising her.

"Good boy, good boy!"

The old lady waved her hand repeatedly, "Quick, put the painting away, be careful not to break it!"

After she finished speaking, the way she looked at Zhang Yan was so pleasing to the eye, she seemed to love him even more than she would her own grandson.

"Zhang Yan, right? Come, sit here with Grandma!"

The situation reversed instantly.

Just moments ago, Nie Fan was all bark and no bite, but now he was like a ghost, standing sheepishly in the corner, not even daring to lift his head.

Zhang Yan, however, became the focus of the entire event.

But he didn't rush over.

He turned his head and looked at Nie Zhenbang, who had remained silent.

The head of the Nie family was squinting, stroking the string of sandalwood prayer beads in his hand, his expression inscrutable.

"Old man."

Zhang Yan spoke, his voice not loud, but clearly carrying throughout the room, "What do you think of this gift that cost nothing...?"

This is a counterattack.

A blatant counterattack.

Didn't you just complain that I didn't spend any money?

Now I'm telling you, my talent is worth more than money.

Nie Zhenbang's fingers paused for a moment.

He slowly raised his head, and for the first time, a genuine appreciation appeared in his cloudy eyes, but more than that, there was an unfathomable depth.

"It's a good painting."

Nie Zhenbang spoke slowly, his voice deep, "Talent, it is first-rate talent."

"Looking across the entire capital, among the younger generation, you can't find another person with this level of writing skill."

Hearing this, everyone around breathed a sigh of relief.

It seems Zhang Yan has passed this hurdle.

Nie Qingcheng also revealed a slight smile.

However, the next second, Nie Zhenbang suddenly changed the subject.

"but."

The moment those two words were uttered, the atmosphere in the hall froze once again.

Nie Zhenbang stood up, put his hands behind his back, and walked step by step to Zhang Yan.

He was half a head shorter than Zhang Yan, but his aura of someone who had long held a superior position made him appear incredibly tall.

"Zhang Yan, you need to understand one thing."

Nie Zhenbang stared into Zhang Yan's eyes and said, word by word.

"In the art world, this painting is priceless and can make you famous worldwide."

"But in a family like ours, when faced with real power..."

Nie Zhenbang extended a finger and gently tapped the painting "Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix".

"It's just a piece of paper."

"Without power as its backbone, even the most beautiful phoenix cannot fly into the sky."

Do you know what I mean?

Zhang Yan looked at the arrogant old man in front of him and suddenly laughed.

He smiled broadly and arrogantly.

"Old man, you're right."

Zhang Yan nodded, then leaned closer to Nie Zhenbang and spoke in a voice that only the two of them could hear.

"The painting is indeed made of paper."

"But what if this phoenix could not only be seen, but also kill?"

Nie Zhenbang's pupils suddenly contracted.

Before he could react, a panicked scream suddenly came from outside the door.

"Something terrible has happened! Master! Something terrible has happened!"

Butler Wang stumbled and crawled in, his face covered in blood, as if he had just crawled out of a pile of corpses.

"There are so many people outside! They've surrounded our old house!"

"They said...they said they came to collect a debt!"