What Ye Fan currently knows is that he possesses X-ray vision and super vision. He can not only see very far but also accurately detect rapidly moving objects. But how can he make money from this?
Suddenly, Ye Fan thought of the gambling industry. However, this industry is prohibited in China, and those who secretly gamble are mostly criminals—not only is it illegal, but it's also extremely dangerous.
Moreover, large international casinos are teeming with experts; even with his X-ray vision, Ye Fan wouldn't dare take the risk.
While pondering how to make money, Ye Fan wandered aimlessly. Passing a lottery station, he saw several people playing scratch-off tickets. His eyes lit up—this was perfect for him! With just a glance, he could tell which scratch-off ticket had a prize.
Ye Fan, who had been worried about making money, suddenly became excited. He rushed to the lottery station and observed for a while. The people playing scratch-off tickets had scratched dozens of tickets, winning at most fifty yuan—a loss in the end.
"Stop playing, the odds of winning are really low," one of them muttered under his breath, pulling his companion away.
Ye Fan concentrated, glanced at the tickets, then took out ten yuan and handed it to the shopkeeper, saying, "Give me five."
The shopkeeper, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, took a deep drag, accepted the ten-yuan note, and said casually, "When playing scratch-off tickets, you need to buy more to increase your chances of winning. This little bit of money isn't enough."
Ye Fan smiled slightly and said, "I want to try my luck today and see if I can pick out a few big prizes."
The shopkeeper rolled his eyes at Ye Fan, reaching out to remove five scratch-off tickets for him, but Ye Fan stopped him.
"What's wrong?" the shopkeeper asked suspiciously.
Ye Fan smiled and said, "I want to try my luck. I'll do it myself." With that, Ye Fan reached out and removed the scratch-off tickets himself, breaking the connected tickets into several pieces, and then seemingly randomly picked out five.
The shop owner didn't say anything. These things were all based on luck; there was no way to cheat. Besides, the tickets were already broken up, making them easier to sell individually.
"Five tickets? You probably won't win a single penny. I suggest you buy a few more," the lottery shop owner said lazily. Having worked in the lottery industry for many years, he'd seen too many cases. Buying lottery tickets, especially scratch-offs, rarely resulted in profit. In fact, it wasn't much different from gambling; the odds of winning were very small.
Ye Fan scratched the first ticket and won fifty yuan. Then he scratched the second, one hundred yuan…
After scratching five tickets, Ye Fan handed them all to the shop owner, grinned, and said, "My luck is really good today. A total of 1800 yuan." As he spoke, Ye Fan glanced at the remaining scratch-offs. Over a hundred tickets, only eight were two-yuan tickets left. Scratching them would be pointless, so Ye Fan didn't bother.
The shop owner was dumbfounded, staring blankly at Ye Fan, wondering to himself, "Just who is this guy?" He only bought five scratch-off tickets, and they all won! The most infuriating thing was that they were all big prizes of over fifty yuan. Based on his years of industry experience, this stuff was all about luck…
This young man's luck was just too good!
Under the astonished gaze of the lottery shop owner, Ye Fan contentedly stuffed the money into his pocket and headed to the next lottery station. In the next three hours, Ye Fan visited three different lottery stations and earned ten thousand yuan.
With his first pot of gold, Ye Fan's confidence began to soar. The dejection of being unemployed and evicted from his rented room vanished. Ye Fan clenched his fists tightly, secretly vowing to make something of himself and crush Zhang Dahu and Huo Zilong under his feet.
He had only intervened because he saw the spoiled brat Huo Zilong harassing a beautiful female customer, but it turned out Huo Zilong was a major client of the company, resulting in his dismissal. To make matters worse, Zhang Dahu had simply left twenty thousand yuan and walked away. Given Ye Fan's injuries at the time, normal treatment would have cost at least 200,000 yuan, and there was no guarantee he'd save his eye.
To leave only 20,000 yuan out of hundreds of thousands for surgery was utterly shameless.
And that Huo Zilong—he didn't even show his face! He was a complete beast.
Ye Fan grew increasingly angry. If it weren't for some unknown reason, he'd probably be a cripple by now.
Zhang Dahu and Huo Zilong were wealthy and powerful locals, not someone a nobody like Ye Fan could handle. As for legal action? Ye Fan didn't even consider it; it was tantamount to self-torture.
Ye Fan knew very well that to get revenge, he had to become stronger. In this world, the law of the jungle—survival of the fittest—was the first law.
Having already received 10,000 yuan, Ye Fan continued to plan how to make more money. As he walked, thinking, he unconsciously found a flyer in his hand. Looking down, he saw it was an advertisement: Ninghai Antique City was officially reopening today after renovations.
Ye Fan had always scoffed at antique markets. According to rumors, eight or nine out of ten items in Ninghai City's antique market were fakes. Of course, there was a chance of finding a bargain, but the odds were lower than winning the lottery.
The shrewd stall owners all had some expertise; why would they put out anything good to sell?
Most importantly, Ye Fan's company specialized in craft processing—basically a small company that made counterfeit antiques. The antique market was a major client, meaning many items there came from Ye Fan's previous company, and some were even designed and made by Ye Fan himself. Just
as Ye Fan was about to hand out flyers, he suddenly remembered that he wasn't an ordinary person anymore, but someone with superpowers. Perhaps he could go and take a look; even if he didn't find anything bargain, it would be a good workout.
Having made up his mind, Ye Fan immediately headed to Ninghai City's antique market.
The newly renovated antique market adopted a completely retro style, with uniform Chinese-style architecture full of Ming and Qing dynasty architectural features. Even though it wasn't the weekend, the market was packed with people, and the shops were almost overflowing with customers. Even the street vendors had a considerable number of patrons.
Everyone knew that most of the items here were fake, but the designs were very attractive, and the prices were relatively cheap, making them good choices for decorative items.
Passing by a stall, Ye Fan saw an exquisite bronze statue. Its exquisite design and excellent preservation prompted him to stop and admire it. Having previously worked in an arts and crafts company, specializing in design and manufacturing, Ye Fan had some knowledge of antiques.
This was a Green Tara statue, about ten centimeters tall. Judging from its design and craftsmanship, it was typical of the Ming dynasty. The faint patina on the bronze indicated its age. Although there were some flaws, the overall preservation was quite good.
An elderly man in his fifties squatted in front of the stall, staring intently at the bronze statue, nodding occasionally as if he were quite impressed with it.
The shrewd stall owner chuckled and said, "Sir, you've been staring at it for half an hour now. Are you going to buy it or not? If not, please move aside and don't get in my way."
Before the old man could speak, the stall owner continued, "This bronze statue of mine is genuine. I found it in a small mountain village. The current market price is at least 150,000. If you're willing to pay in cash, I'll give you a discount, 140,000."
The old man slowly raised his head, glanced at the stall owner, and said with a smile, "We're all in this business, don't try any tricks on me. This bronze statue is indeed nice, but it's not worth 150,000. I'll offer 100,000. If you're willing, it's a deal." The old man spoke slowly and steadily, with a decisive air.
The vendor looked hesitant, lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and then, as if making up his mind, suddenly said, "Seeing how sincere you are in wanting it, I won't be coy. You give me a break, I'll give you a break too. One price, 130,000."
The old man laughed and said, "100,000, I'll take it back. Otherwise, I'll look elsewhere." With that, the old man stood up, gesturing as if to leave.
Seeing the situation was turning sour, the vendor stood up, threw his cigarette to the ground with a pained expression, and said cruelly, "Fine, 100,000 it is. Cash or a POS machine?" Then, as if by magic, the vendor produced a POS machine.
When did the stall owners in the antique market become so high-tech, carrying wireless POS machines with them? Ye Fan stared at the vendor, then looked down at the bronze statue. This was a valuable item worth 100,000. Ye Fan was extremely curious and wanted to see why it was so valuable.
Just as the old man was about to swipe his card, Ye Fan spoke up, "The workmanship is indeed excellent, and the craftsmanship is exquisite. It can be considered a masterpiece. If it hasn't been artificially modified, 100,000 is definitely worth more than its price."
The old man, who was about to take out his card, paused, staring at Ye Fan with surprise. After a long while, he slowly said, "Young man, do you know anything about this?"
The vendor was displeased, glaring at Ye Fan and angrily saying, "Kid, you can't just say whatever you want. This is genuine, a real bronze Green Tara statue from the mid-Ming Dynasty, a masterpiece among masterpieces. It has been verified by experts. Don't spout nonsense."
To demonstrate his persuasiveness, the vendor hurriedly pulled out a verification certificate from his pocket, the vermilion seal very conspicuous.
At this moment, if Ye Fan didn't have X-ray vision, he would have thought he was seeing things.
The old man looked at the certificate; it was issued by the Cultural Bureau, and it had a seal, indicating that the bronze statue had been verified.
"Young man, although I'm not an expert, I do have a passion for antiques and have done some research. Plus, this has a certificate, so it shouldn't be fake, right?" the old man asked in a questioning tone.
Faced with the certificate and the skeptical gazes of the crowd, Ye Fan braced himself and said, "I didn't say this bronze statue is fake, but rather that it's half-real, half-fake."
The old man immediately became interested and continued, "What do you mean?"
"This is indeed an old bronze statue, but because it was damaged, it underwent modern technological alterations. The methods are so sophisticated that it's not easy to spot the problem," Ye Fan continued.
"I have a certificate," the vendor said, a hint of panic flashing in his eyes.
Ye Fan scoffed at the vendor's explanation, saying, "The certificate clearly states that it has been authenticated as genuine, but you forgot to look at the note: this certificate is for reference only."
The old man looked down and found that there was indeed such a line of small print on the certificate, though it was written very small and in a very hidden location. At this moment, the old man's gaze towards Ye Fan changed.
The vendor, steeling himself, said, "You're slandering the authority's capabilities."
Ye Fan shook his head and said, "I'm not slandering; I have evidence."
Hearing this, the old man and the surrounding onlookers all looked at Ye Fan, wanting to know what his evidence was. The old man, in particular, had some expertise in this area, and during his examination, he hadn't found anything wrong.
Ye Fan said, "Traditional bronze statue casting often uses the wax-removal method, and the residue on the inner wall should be gray clay or black charcoal mud. But the residue on the inner wall of this bronze statue is indeed quartz sand..."
The old man was quite an expert; he understood halfway through the explanation. He quickly lifted the bronze statue, turned on his phone's flashlight, and examined the inner wall of the statue from its base.