Chapter One Hundred: The Yang Family Patriarch?

Qin Feng’s lips lifted slightly, revealing a smile full of hidden meaning. “I want to know... just who exactly are you, sir?”

It was as if the air froze at that moment. The old man’s smile gradually faded, and his gaze sharpened like a hawk’s, fixed on Qin Feng as though he meant to see straight through him.

“And what if I am?” the old man said at last, his voice calm but edged with a chill that was hard to miss. “What else would I be but a leisurely collector?”

“Is that so?”

Qin Feng smiled without committing himself, picked up the teapot on the table, and slowly poured himself a cup of tea. Fragrant curls of steam rose into the air, yet they could not dispel the tension that had settled over the room.

Just then, the glass door of the antique shop was shoved open with force. A muscular man in a suit strode in, followed by two broad-shouldered bodyguards.

The moment he stepped inside, the man broke into a flattering smile and bowed deeply to the old man. “Third Master, why have you come here yourself? If there’s anything you need, just say the word and I’ll bring it to you.”

But the moment the suited man felt the old man’s piercing stare, a chill ran down his back. Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

He hurriedly lowered his head, his respectful tone tinged with fear. “Third Master, I... I was only worried about you being out here...”

“Worried about me?”

The old man gave a cold snort, his anger laid bare. “What could possibly happen to me? Since when is it your place to meddle here?”

The suited man’s expression stiffened, but he did not dare answer back. He could only stand there obediently, not even daring to breathe too loudly.

The two bodyguards behind him were equally meek, heads bowed like lifeless statues.

Qin Feng took all of it in, and his curiosity about the old man’s identity deepened all the more.

Clearly, this old man was anything but a leisurely collector.

“Don’t mind them, young man.”

Perhaps realizing he had shown too much of himself, the old man softened his tone somewhat and said to Qin Feng, “Let’s continue our chat.” With that, he pointed at the teacups on the table. “Come, have some tea.”

Qin Feng lifted his cup and took a small sip, but he did not swallow. Setting it down again, he met the old man’s eyes and said evenly, though with a probing edge, “Old sir, you still haven’t answered my question.”

The old man laughed heartily, as though Qin Feng’s persistence amused him. “You really are stubborn, boy. Very well. Since you want to know so badly, I’ll tell you.”

He paused, his gaze seeming to drift far into the past, and his voice carried both reminiscence and emotion. “Back in my day, I was quite a figure in the underworld...”

And so the old man began to speak of his youth.

From his account, Qin Feng learned that he had once been a mighty tycoon who commanded respect across both lawful and unlawful circles, possessing wealth and status beyond the imagination of ordinary people.

He had seen countless rare treasures and endured endless schemes and betrayals.

He had once spent fortunes in a single gesture, all to win a beauty’s smile; and he had once ventured alone into mortal danger, emerging unscathed from a storm of bullets.

His stories were steeped in legend, and Zhang Hu listened with his mouth half open, his eyes full of admiration and reverence.

It was as if he were watching a great underworld overlord slowly lift the curtain on a buried chapter of history.

Yet Qin Feng was not taken in by the old man’s tales.

He keenly sensed that, whether deliberately or not, the old man was avoiding certain crucial details.

For instance, why he had retired from the game, and why he was so fixated on a true work by Tang Bohu.

Qin Feng watched the old man’s expression without the slightest change in demeanor, his eyes sharp as a raptor’s as he tried to catch even the faintest flaw in that weathered face.

Under that piercing gaze, the suited man and the bodyguards grew even more rigid.

Suddenly, rapid footsteps sounded outside the shop, breaking the tense silence within.

A tall, upright figure appeared at the doorway, striding in hurriedly with an anxious look on his face.

“Grandfather!”

The newcomer was Yang Tianchen. The instant he saw the old man seated in the grand armchair, he froze in place, his face filled with disbelief.

He had never imagined that the old man would come to the opening of the Hall of Heavenly Wind.

He was sure he had never mentioned this to the family at all.

“Tianchen, why are you here?” the old man asked, his tone carrying a trace of fondness.

“Grandfather, why are you here?!” Yang Tianchen rushed to his side, his voice threaded with reproach and worry.

The old man waved a hand and said with a smile, “What could happen to me? I just came out for a walk to see if there was anything interesting.”

“A walk? You took a walk all the way to the antique street?”

Clearly unwilling to believe the old man’s excuse, Yang Tianchen looked from Qin Feng to the old man, confusion all over his face.

The old man ignored his grandson’s questions and instead turned to Qin Feng with a smile. “Young man, this is my grandson, Yang Tianchen.”

“Oh. Uh, Old Master, don’t you know? This Hall of Heavenly Wind was opened by Tianchen and me together?”

Qin Feng paused for a moment before understanding. So the old man had no idea what his grandson had been up to at all.

Most likely, Yang Tianchen had set it all up behind his back.

Qin Feng gave him a half-smile and said teasingly, “So this was a secret inspection, was it?”

Yang Tianchen awkwardly rubbed the side of his nose and shot Qin Feng a hard glare. Was this kid deliberately trying to embarrass him?

The old man, however, did not think that deeply. He waved it off cheerfully and said, “This boy, Tianchen, has liked tinkering with these things since he was small. I figured I’d let him be. Who knows, maybe he’ll make a name for himself yet.”

Then the old man looked at Qin Feng again, admiration in his eyes. “Young man, I can tell you’re a man who knows his craft. How about coming to work for my Yang family? My old bones may not have much else, but I do have money. As long as you’re willing to come, name any conditions you like.”

The moment those words were spoken, everyone present was stunned.

Zhang Hu stared at Qin Feng in disbelief, his face lighting up with joy.

The suited man and the bodyguards exchanged looks in shock. They knew exactly what the old man was like—he was always firm, and once he made up his mind, he never changed it. Just what kind of background did this young man have?

Yang Tianchen was even more helpless. No matter how he calculated it, he never could have guessed that the old man would make such a move. Wasn’t that plainly poaching his people right in front of him?

Just as he was about to speak, Qin Feng beat him to it.

“Old Master, you flatter me too much. I’m only half-trained at best. How could I dare go to a grand household like the Yang family and make a scene?”

His words were courteous, but his tone was calm and measured, neither humble nor overbearing. There was not the slightest trace of fear just because of the old man’s status.

The old man looked at Qin Feng for a long moment, then laughed. “Good spirit, young man! But the person this old man has his eye on is not so easy to give up on.”

Then he turned to Yang Tianchen, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Tianchen, from today on, you will follow Xiao Feng and learn properly from him. If you fail to learn, just see how I deal with you!”