Chapter 166: Chapter 165: Selling a Painting

Just as Feng Shan was replaying the scene he had just witnessed in his mind, the room door was thrown open.

The sudden commotion made Nash and Wawa instinctively raise their guns, their eyes instantly turning sharp and alert.

"Heh heh heh, easy, guys." Frank stood in the doorway, a relaxed smile on his face as he raised his hands to show he meant no harm.

Beside Frank stood a flustered-looking woman.

Her long, brown hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall, adding to her soft, delicate beauty.

She wore a snug top that outlined her slender waist and impressive curves, exuding a captivating charm.

The woman seemed terrified by the sight of Nash and Wawa’s guns. Her eyes filled with anxiety, her face grew pale, and her body trembled slightly.

Frank glanced at the woman, then back at Nash and Wawa. "Relax, she’s a friend of mine."

’Friend??’

Feng Shan pushed past Nash and Wawa and walked to the door, teasing, "Frannie, I thought you were supposed to be in mourning. Already have time to be chasing skirts?"

"That’s right! Seven days are up, and I’m a free man now!" Frank wrapped an arm around the woman beside him. "This is my girlfriend."

’Seven days?’

’That’s not a mourning period, that’s just the first week!’

’According to Chinese tradition, the mourning period is typically three years.’

But Feng Shan had no intention of explaining this to Frank. Americans and Chinese had completely different mindsets; there was no point trying to make him understand.

"Come on in! I don’t have any coffee for you."

Frank led the woman into the room, frowning as he took in the cramped space. "Fellas, three guys living in a place this small... are you trying to save up for the boat?"

"It was the only room they had when we got here." Feng Shan rolled his eyes and grabbed two chairs. "Where are you two staying tonight? I can ask Lady Margaret to find you a room."

"No need. I booked a cabin online. My friend, you really should get to know modern technology. A phone isn’t just for making calls," Frank said with a smug, gloating smile.

’What’s there to be so smug about?’

Feng Shan shot him another eye-roll and picked up the documents Eugene had left behind.

"Time to work. See if you can find any loopholes in this contract."

"Good God, I fly a thousand kilometers to get here, and you’re making me work without even a cup of coffee? You’re a ruthless capitalist," Frank complained with exaggerated melodrama, a pitiful look on his face.

But complaints were just complaints. Frank picked up the documents.

His eyes scanned the documents with intense focus, as if searching for hidden secrets within the lines of text.

His finger glided gently over the paper, pausing from time to time to think for a moment before continuing downward.

After finishing the last page, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"My friend, it’s mostly solid. However, the payment terms require three installments over three years. The first payment is 50% of the boat’s price. You probably have about 15 million on hand right now, and after that first payment, the pressure on you is going to be immense."

"And as far as I know, the expenses for a crab fishing expedition are nothing to sneeze at."

"True," Feng Shan nodded. "But I plan on selling an oil painting. That should cover the initial costs."

’Sell an oil painting?’

’What oil painting?’

Frank stared at Feng Shan, looking utterly lost.

He couldn’t imagine what kind of masterpiece this painting could be to cover such hefty initial expenses.

"The oil painting on the wall in the cabin’s living room," Feng Shan reminded him. "I’m guessing it ought to be worth something!"

Frank’s mind instantly flashed back to the cabin wall. He vaguely recalled seeing an oil painting there.

"You’re sure that painting is worth a lot of money?"

Feng Shan lifted his chin slightly, a hint of confidence in his eyes. "I think there’s a very good chance. Judging by its style and condition, its value shouldn’t be too shabby."

Frank grew thoughtful. "Alright, I hope this painting can solve your cash flow problem. But selling art needs to be handled carefully so you don’t get ripped off. I know a few bastards at the auction houses who might be able to help."

"Deal. I have photos on my phone, I’ll send them to you." Feng Shan took out his phone and sent Frank the pictures of the oil painting he’d taken from various angles.

Hearing his phone chime, Frank glanced casually at the photos, then stood up with the documents in hand. "You don’t need to worry about the rest of this. I’ll negotiate with the boat company. All you have to do is sign."

"Thanks, Frannie," Feng Shan said, stepping forward to hug Frank.

’Frank’s help had been absolutely crucial on this journey.’

’In the United States, being a lawyer was an incredibly lucrative profession. In a single lawsuit, a lawyer could take home up to 40% of the settlement awarded to their client. On top of that, business partnerships also came with their own legal fees.’

’A lawyer as well-connected as Frank would command an appearance fee of no less than four figures, and the cost would be even higher if he had to personally handle certain issues.’

’With Frank’s selfless help, Feng Shan had not only saved a fortune in legal fees, but had also gotten problems solved without even having to show up in person.’

"Happy to help, my friend!" Frank returned the hug, patting Feng Shan lightly on the shoulder. Then, in a voice only the two of them could hear, he added, "Kid, give me one of those beast hides... the kind that boosts stamina."

"!!!"

Feng Shan pushed Frank away and shot him a speechless look. He turned, grabbed his overcoat, and pulled out a strip of beast hide from inside, secretly infusing it with his Soul Power.

"Use it sparingly. And pace yourself."

Taking the hide, Frank grinned slyly, then wrapped an arm around his girlfriend and walked out of the room.

’Looks like he’s planning on sleeping in until noon.’

...

The night passed dreamlessly. In the morning, sunlight spilled through the inn’s windows, bringing with it a breath of warmth.

Lady Margaret had prepared waffles, bacon, and fried eggs, and their delicious aroma filled the entire inn.

Feng Shan and his two men were sitting in the dining room and had just taken a couple of bites of the delicious food when Frank burst into the inn. He found them in the dining room, his face a mask of shock and excitement, as if he had just discovered some earth-shattering secret. He asked urgently,

"Where did you get that oil painting?"

Startled by Frank’s sudden appearance, Feng Shan put down his fork, completely baffled.

"What’s wrong? Is there a problem with the painting?"

Frank took a deep breath, trying to calm his excitement. "That painting might be incredibly valuable. I sent the photos to an art expert from an auction house last night, and he called me first thing this morning. He’s extremely interested in it."

"It’s worth at least..."

When it came to the price, Frank deliberately paused for dramatic effect. A slight smile played on his lips as he watched the expectant faces of Feng Shan and his men, feeling immensely pleased with himself.

’It’d be amazing if it sold for a million or two.’

’And you expect me to beg you to tell me.’

Feng Shan sniffed dismissively, picked up his fork, and went back to eating his breakfast.

Frank, who was still trying to milk the suspense, was disappointed to see Feng Shan’s lack of excitement. He picked up his coffee from the table and took a large gulp.

"Hey, man! Is that all the reaction I get? We’re talking about a painting worth at least tens of millions of dollars."

Tens of millions?

’*At least*.’

The fork in Feng Shan’s hand froze mid-air. His eyes were wide with shock and disbelief; he couldn’t believe the painting was actually worth that much.

Tens of millions. That was far beyond his wildest expectations.

"That’s right. If it’s the genuine article, it could sell for at least 50 million US Dollars. If you find the right buyer, the price could go even higher. But... you’re probably going to be disappointed."

Frank finally saw the shocked expression he was looking for. Satisfied, he drained the rest of his coffee.

"There’s a very high chance it’s a reproduction!"

...