Chapter 111: The Sacred Relic

“This, this…” Bai Ranhe’s forehead began to glisten with sweat. He reached out to wipe it away awkwardly and said, “This was all arranged by the servants; it was a mistake in their work. I’ll reprimand them immediately and have them make new arrangements.”

“No need.” Yin Shushu said softly, then led Mu Xiaoxiao toward Lu Jiu’s direction and sat down at his table.

Lu Jiu kept winking at Mu Xiaoxiao and even recited a line of ancient poetry: “Boundless fallen leaves rustle down; the endless Yangtze River rolls on. Manager Mu Xiaoxiao, is your name taken from this poem?”

Mu Xiaoxiao clearly had no interest in Lu Jiu and ignored him entirely. Yet Lu Jiu was thick-skinned, muttering to himself as he tried to draw closer to her.

I noticed something strange. Ever since Yin Shushu and the others arrived, Liu Zhongguo’s table had grown much quieter. Everyone there kept their heads down, quietly eating, unlike the others who glanced repeatedly at Yin Shushu and his party. It seemed they had no real interest in the most mysterious estate owner in Duhe City.

“Hmph, a friend of the Yellow River Dragon King!” Li Xiaojuan snapped out of her earlier shock and, recalling the dowry issue, said, “Are the people from the Yellow River Manor really that impressive? They can’t even produce a dowry and should be relegated to the back row.” Clearly, Li Xiaojuan had little worldly experience. Anyone with a keen eye could see that Yin Shushu was not someone to be trifled with, yet this wealthy lady showed no sign of backing down. That alone revealed Li Xiaojuan’s limited understanding.

Hearing his wife’s words, Bai Ranhe’s face instantly turned pale. He glared at Li Xiaojuan, signaling her to shut up.

I knew that with Yin Shushu’s backing, even if I presented nothing today, Bai Ranhe would agree to this marriage. Yin Shushu’s gracious attendance was the greatest dowry of all.

But what surprised me even more came afterward. Yin Shushu nodded toward Mu Xiaoxiao, who then stood holding a box made of golden nanmu wood. Under the watchful eyes of everyone, the manager of Yellow River Manor walked step by step onto the stage and approached me.

When Mu Xiaoxiao saw me, a flicker of surprise crossed her face. We had briefly met once before at the Duhe pier, but she clearly did not know I was the grandson of the Yellow River Dragon King.

“Who says the grandson of the Yellow River Dragon King can’t afford a dowry?” Mu Xiaoxiao’s expression quickly returned to normal. She turned and shot Li Xiaojuan a cold glare before lifting the golden nanmu box and opening it loudly. “This is the dowry that we, on behalf of Pi Yangxi, present to the Bai family.”

As the box opened, a strong scent of sandalwood filled the air—a fragrance so rich only items preserved for thousands of years could emit it.

At the scent, all eyes converged on the contents inside the box.

Inside lay an ancient scroll painting, quietly resting and releasing not only fragrance but also a solemn aura.

In front of everyone, Mu Xiaoxiao lit a stick of sandalwood incense. Amid the curling white smoke, she respectfully unrolled the painting.

As the ancient artwork slowly unfurled, the night sky seemed to resonate with the chanting of countless Taoist priests reciting sutras.

I recognized the painting’s subject: a Taoist clad in a red robe, wielding the Seven-Star Sword, astride a black tiger, exuding an imposing presence.

From both the texture and the brushwork, this was clearly a masterpiece of the highest quality.

“A self-portrait by Zhang Tianzu!” Lu Jiu’s face changed dramatically upon seeing the signature beneath the painting. He was overwhelmed with excitement. Forming a Taoist hand seal with both hands, he respectfully addressed the portrait: “Blessings of boundless life to the Heavenly Venerable.”

“This, this…” Chen Yetian was equally stunned, speechless, bowing his head toward the painting to show respect to Zhang Tianzu.

Other discerning feng shui masters exchanged glances in amazement, never expecting to see such a divine artifact here.

Some Taoist-influenced feng shui masters, upon seeing the painting, also clasped their hands in Taoist mudras and respectfully uttered the phrase “Blessings of boundless life to the Heavenly Venerable,” just as Lu Jiu had.

A self-portrait by Master Zhang was no ordinary painting. Even as a two-thousand-year-old relic, it was worth far more than Yuan Dynasty blue-and-white porcelain. What made it even rarer was that it was personally painted by Master Zhang—a figure steeped in Taoist tradition. The painting radiated a natural authority and served as a talisman to protect the home. Wherever it was hung, evil spirits and demons would be forced to keep their distance.

In short, this was a sacred Taoist treasure.

“This is the dowry that Yellow River Manor offers on behalf of Pi Yangxi to the Bai family. Chairman Bai Ranhe, does this dowry meet your approval?” Mu Xiaoxiao’s face bore a trace of pride as she addressed the crowd, noticing the astonishment on their faces.

“This, this, this worthless painting—is it really valuable?” Li Xiaojuan, unaware of its true worth, blurted out. Her words drew furious glares from all the Taoist feng shui masters present, who looked as if they wanted to tear her apart for her ignorance.