Chapter 326 Truth or Lie?

Chapter 326: Genuine or Fake?

"You're just going to accept it?" Luo Jining didn't believe Meng Wan was being so agreeable. In his eyes, the man was now a sly old devil.

Meng Wan said calmly, "Accept it? Why wouldn't I? It's just two paintings, isn't it?"

Luo Jining, "..."

Fine, whatever. Rich people.

The Luo family had money too, but it had nothing to do with him.

Nie Hongfei's money went to carrying in a concubine today, taking in a male attendant tomorrow, and throwing gold at some courtesan the day after. He was even more wasteful than Luo Jining himself—didn't have a damn cent saved up.

To be honest, Luo Jining was almost tempted to tag along with Meng Wan. Forget the cannery—that courier station sounded like it could really go places.

Under the double surveillance of both the Nie and Luo families, he couldn't do anything without looking over his shoulder. If he had Meng Wan's husband protecting him, wouldn't he shoot straight to the top?

But Song Tingzhou's relationship with the Crown Prince was ambiguous. If Prince Lian found out he was getting close to the Song family, he'd be in for a world of hurt!

Ugh...

If only he were an imperial prince, he'd also acknowledge Nie Chuan as his godfather...

Hahaha, then he'd become emperor himself and take them all down. Why should he put up with this crap!

Meng Wan looked speechlessly at the person sitting beside him. Luo Jining wore a white brocade robe without an outer vest, the hem embroidered with lavish eight-treasure patterns. When he kept still, that handsome face of his could truly fool people. Poised and elegant, a gentleman as pure as jade—he had the whole noble scion look down pat.

Luo Jining could put on airs when he needed to, but the moment he was in front of Meng Wan, he dropped half his defenses, trying every which way to catch Meng Wan's attention. He probably didn't even realize it himself.

"What exactly are you thinking about? You're practically drooling." Meng Wan looked like he couldn't even bear to look.

"Huh?" Luo Jining instinctively wiped the corner of his mouth with his fingertip—it was dry. "You lied to me again!"

He muttered grumpily, "Zhang Wuji's mother was right—the better looking someone is, the better they are at lying. Doesn't matter if they're man or woman!"

Meng Wan: "..." This dude is way too unhinged.

A servant from the Rong family brought over two scrolls that had been soaked in hot water. Even though the paintings had been mounted, boiling water was scorching—no matter how masterful the mounting, it couldn't withstand such soaking. It was plain to see both paintings were completely ruined.

A lady from a family of scholars with sharp eyes spotted the signature on one of the paintings. "Isn't this Master Wang Qianye's 'Parting at the Imperial Pavilion'?"

Another remarkably knowledgeable gentleman stepped forward as well. "Indeed, it is Master Wang's work. His seal bears the name 'Wujiu Daoren'—at forty-eight, he turned his back on the mortal world, left behind his wife and concubines, and insisted on becoming a monk. This painting was made when he invited his entire family to the Imperial Pavilion for a final meal together—it's his swan song!"

The swan song of a great master of the painting world—worth far more than a thousand taels of silver. Even a thousand taels of gold might not cut it.

The two sighed and shook their heads. What a pity. This painting had been sought after for a long time; everyone guessed it was treasured in the hands of some powerful figure, and now it turned out to be in the Duke Chengen Estate. Unfortunately, it was now destroyed.

Seeing that it truly was a famous master's work, more connoisseurs crowded around. "Ah! This one—is this the work of that master?"

"The Weird Master's painting? Really? Isn't his work said to be only given to close friends?"

Compared to Wang Qianye, who had many works in circulation before his monastic life, the Weird Master Dai Zhong was far more mysterious. The few works he'd revealed were highly controversial, one even criticized by many literati for its eerie style.

But there was no denying his skill. For those who appreciated his art, his works were priceless treasures passed down through generations.

Neither painting was ordinary.

A thousand taels of gold, ten thousand of silver—that was still lowballing it.

Everyone's gaze unconsciously fell on Meng Wan's gorgeous face. A gentle breeze brushed his profile, blowing away a few strands of soft hair at his temples, as if even the wind was gentle with a beauty like him.

Meng Wan seemed utterly oblivious to the attention, his expression still calm.

This old Madam Rong wasn't stupid—she knew to dig up two obscure paintings to scam him with.

"Madam, today is a joyous occasion for your household. Wouldn't it be bad to make too big a scene?" Qi Shunying stepped forward to speak up for Meng Wan.

She was only reminding them for the sake of their family ties. The bigger this got, the harder it would be for Madam Qi to smooth over when she returned—after all, the Rong family had just handed Meng Wan some serious dirt on them, and Madam Rong probably didn't know about that yet.

Madam Kou, as a neighbor to both families, couldn't keep avoiding the matter either. She chimed in with a few words of persuasion. "That's right, we're all neighbors here. Meng Fulang didn't do it on purpose either. Why not leave the two servants here for the Rong family to vent their anger on, and the compensation can be discussed amicably—right, Meng Fulang?" Madam Kou patted Meng Wan's arm, giving him a meaningful wink and a nod.

Oh, what a mess. She may have come from the countryside and didn't understand the value of these two paintings, but just from looking at the ladies and gentlemen crowding up front, she knew these were expensive things only noble families could afford.

Lord Song's monthly salary wasn't even as much as her husband's. He'd have to sell his house and land to pay for this, wouldn't he?

Meng Wan had visited before and felt Madam Kou hadn't been particularly warm toward him. He was genuinely surprised she'd stepped up to speak for him this time.

"Both of you speak sense. The paintings are just objects, but people are what matter. Meng Fulang needn't feel indebted," Madam Rong said with a wistful look, then let out a heavy sigh. "It's just a pity about these two famous paintings—clearly beyond repair now."

She was old, her hair completely white, and with that mournful tone, it tugged at everyone's heartstrings.

Someone who couldn't stand it spoke up: "Meng Fulang, we are outsiders and shouldn't meddle, but these two paintings of the Rong family are far too precious. If you simply act like nothing happened, that would be rather unreasonable."

"If you damage someone's property, you should pay for it."

"Exactly. Something so valuable—how can it just be brushed aside?"

Meng Wan's back was ramrod straight, watching Madam Rong with a knowing, half-smile. "Everyone, I don't believe I ever said I wouldn't compensate the Rong family, did I? I just don't have much silver on me at the moment. How about I send my servant home to fetch some?" With that, he sent Huang Ye and Zhifan back with a quick, no-nonsense gesture—no hesitation, no delay, as if he genuinely intended to pay.

Madam Rong was secretly thrilled but didn't let it show on her face. Instead, she scolded Meng Wan playfully, "You child, why so formal with us?"

Meng Wan said sincerely, "The Duke's estate is a distinguished household in the capital; it deserves proper respect. Please don't be anxious, Madam. Not a single coin will be short."

Madam Rong's smile remained warm. At her age, a fake smile was plastered on her face—she wouldn't change expression easily.

The Song and Rong households were separated by just one street. Huang Ye quickly returned with the items: two scroll tubes and a small pouch. That was all.

The smile on Madam Rong's face faded. "What is the meaning of this, Meng Fulang?"

Banknotes were for small change; the real money would be in silver. Even if Meng Wan estimated the two paintings at eight thousand taels, he'd need at least two large wooden chests carried in, wouldn't he? How could a tiny pouch possibly hold that much?

She knew Meng Wan was a disciple of Xiang Yun and could paint himself. Surely he didn't intend to use his own paintings to compensate for hers?

Meng Wan acted as if he hadn't noticed her expression shift. He took the pouch from Huang Ye, opened it, and poured the contents onto the table where the paintings were displayed.

Twenty neat little silver ingots, about one tael each—twenty in total, a mere twenty taels. A far cry from the large wooden chests Madam Rong had imagined.

"What is he doing? He sent his servant home just to bring back twenty taels of silver? Isn't he just trying to weasel out of paying?" someone beside Luo Jining muttered quietly.

Luo Jining was no longer surprised by this turn of events. In fact, he felt a strange sense of calm, like the dust had finally settled. He knew it—that Meng bastard was too agreeable. The guy definitely had something up his sleeve.

And he felt a bizarre satisfaction: So he doesn't just trick me—he's this rotten to everyone else too?

Why did that feel so satisfying?

A strange smile curled at the corner of Luo Jining's mouth.

Surrounded by voices of doubt and accusation, Meng Wan looked deeply wronged and utterly shocked. "This is, of course, my compensation to you, Madam. Eight taels per painting—and I even rounded it up to a nice round number out of neighborly courtesy."

Madam Rong's heart churned with shock and uncertainty, the curve of her lips gradually flattening as she spoke with a sorrowful tone, "I have long said that Meng Fulang need not take this too much to heart. If Meng Fulang truly does not wish to compensate, you may simply leave the table and return home, but you must not insult our Rong family in such a manner."

Meng Wan was greatly alarmed and quickly offered his apologies, "What does Madam mean by this? Could it be that twenty taels of silver is too little? I'll just go borrow some more from the others."

He reached out his hand toward Luo Jining, "Lend me ten taels of silver."

The muscles in Luo Jining's cheeks twitched involuntarily as he pulled ten taels of silver from his sleeve and placed it into Meng Wan's palm, "Here."

Meng Wan placed this ten taels together with the twenty taels on the table, his brows slightly drooping, the corners of his mouth twitching gently as he spoke with a helpless tone, "Madam Rong, would this be acceptable?"

Madam Rong could no longer hold back. She stood up, trembling as she pointed at Meng Wan, half pretending to be insulted, half genuinely furious, "Meng Fulang, your husband holds only a third-rank position at court. Even if you have obtained the title of First-rank Lady, you should not act with such arrogance and insolence, humiliating our Count's mansion in this manner!"

Another madam of equally high rank could not help but furrow her brows, "Meng Fulang, this act is indeed somewhat excessive. These two paintings combined, even considering our neighborly relations, should cost at least eight thousand taels in compensation. If you act in this manner, won't people talk badly about you when this gets out?"

"Eight thousand taels?" Meng Wan was shocked. "What? Not only are things more expensive in Shengjing City than anywhere else, but even fakes cost this much?"

As he spoke, his gaze shifted from shock to suspicion, finally settling on a wary look at the few people in the room who had stepped forward on behalf of the Count's mansion, as if they were all scheming to swindle him.

The elderly madam who had just spoken up for Madam Rong was so furious she laughed, "The Chengen Earl's mansion has been passed down for three generations, filled with countless treasures. Are you saying these two paintings are forgeries?"

The two couples from the scholarly family scoffed, "Meng Fulang's words are laughable. We personally appraised these ourselves. Are you saying we teamed up with Madam Rong to cheat you out of your money?"

"That's right."

The performers had finished resting a while ago, but the Troupe Head, seeing that things had gone south, delayed for a while. When he saw that no one from the Rong family was paying them any attention, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and start the opening act, beginning with a short opening skit.

Drums and gongs sounded on stage, but the atmosphere below was tense. All the invited ladies looked at Meng Wan with expressions that were not quite right, faint traces of contempt visible in their eyes.

If he didn't want to pay, he should have just apologized when Madam Rong first brought it up. Now that it had come to this, he just looked short-sighted, petty, and plain stupid.

Any normal person in this situation would probably be too flustered to speak, but Meng Wan was someone who dared to argue with the emperor's favored consort within the palace walls. This was just a minor ordeal for him.

Luo Jining moved his stool forward, and despite being parched with thirst, he instinctively grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds and started cracking them, his eyes sharp and watchful.

Of everyone there, only he and the blunt Qi Shun Ying weren't giving him that judgmental look, which Meng Wan found somewhat satisfactory.

"Ye Geer, unroll the painting." He said in a steady voice, instructing Huang Ye to unroll the artwork. Compared to the furious Madam Rong, he was way too calm.

Not everyone was a fool who just followed the crowd. Many were just watching to see how things played out, and now seeing Meng Wan's composed demeanor, they started to have a tiny doubt about whether the Rong family's paintings were real.

With a hundred years of legacy behind the Chengen Earl's mansion, would they truly use forgeries to deceive people?

All doubts disappeared the moment Huang Ye unrolled the painting.

The lavish, luxurious restaurant in the painting was just the background; the real essence was the carefree, otherworldly bearing of the middle-aged scholar.

His family's reluctant attempts to hold him back tinged his longing for freedom with a hint of sadness, but his yearning for "unrestrained freedom and unity with heaven and earth" was what truly drove him, resounding like a morning bell in his very being.

The middle-aged scholar in the painting bid farewell to his family within the magnificent halls.

The Imperial Pavilion Farewell Painting!

The two who had appraised the paintings earlier stared with eyes wide open.

Among them, the husband was a connoisseur. He was clearly immersed in Wang Qianye's artistic essence, gazing at the painting with infatuation, even reaching out to touch it.

"Cough." Huang Ye coughed impatiently.

This man had no shame—just moments ago he had been righteously condemning their husband, and now he dared to touch the painting their husband had collected.

"Master Liu, do you have any guidance to offer?" Meng Wan spoke with clear enunciation and sincere tone, completely assuming the posture of a junior seeking instruction.

Master Liu, already in his forties and having not felt his face flush with embarrassment in a long time, now found his cheeks reddening as he said awkwardly, "I dare not speak of guidance. It was my poor judgment that wronged Meng Fulang. This 'Imperial Pavilion Farewell Painting' of yours is the genuine work."

The two paintings were right next to each other. Even if the Rong family's painting had not been destroyed, no one would have confused the two.

Such a masterpiece of value, placed alongside a counterfeit, made the difference immediately apparent.

The crowd erupted in commotion.

"Then... that painting by the eccentric master Dai Zhong, is it also a forgery?"

Everyone's gaze toward Madam Rong shifted. Just moments ago, she had spoken word by word, as if weeping blood, evoking sympathy and pity. But now...

Madam Rong's expression was also one of extreme shock, "Both of these paintings are forgeries?"

Luo Jining nearly dropped his sunflower seeds to applaud, but also thought that the old woman Madam Rong was putting on a convincing act, as if she truly knew nothing.

Meng Wan picked up the second painting, which was already half-dry and wrinkled, and blew on the signature at the bottom, "This one is not a forgery, because my senior apprentice brother never painted this piece at all."