Chapter 8: The Sixth Floor of Treasure Pavilion, Black Market

“Is that so?” Zhou Yunqiong frowned slightly upon hearing this.

“Do you want me to check out the situation and buy it back?” Uncle Zuo offered. After all, it was an instruction from the family head, and missing it would not be good. It had to be acquired, and as for who currently owned that farm, he didn’t care. With the strength of the Wu Zhou Group, as long as none of the major powers intervened, it would be easily handled, with no trouble at all.

“Forget it. We’ve already bought enough land. The Starfall region is so vast that missing one plot is of little consequence.” Zhou Yunqiong waved her hand dismissively and continued, “Besides, among the meteorites that fall from the sky, only a rare few contain artifacts from beyond the world.”

A few months ago, after dedicated research, Wu Zhou Group discovered that a once-in-a-millennium meteor shower was about to occur. The Zhou family speculated that some of these meteorites might contain alien artifacts. Therefore, they calculated the potential landing sites and purchased them at great cost.

In truth, the Zhou family had been buying land all over the world for years, largely because of this reason. They hoped for the arrival of something extraordinary, and after years of effort, they had indeed acquired a few such things, though most of their efforts were fruitless.

Zhou Yunqiong’s thoughts were simple; she didn’t believe that this meteor shower would be any different from the others. Furthermore, there were other forces secretly vying with the Zhou family. A great change was approaching. In such a time, stability was paramount.

“Yes, miss.” Since she had spoken, Uncle Zuo had no objections and asked, “Then, miss, what shall we do next?” They had been out for quite some time and wondered if they should return to the hotel.

“Never mind, let’s go.” Zhou Yunqiong shook her head, turned, and walked out the main doors, clearly not intending to go back. She had no desire to explain anything to those so-called classmates, nor did she dwell on the effect that Lu Yuan had briefly had on her—it was quickly and completely ignored.

As she had just said, after all, they belonged to two different worlds.

...

After leaving the Yunzhong Grand Hotel, Lu Yuan did not return to the northern villa district. Instead, he chose another destination.

However, on his way, he received a message from Chen Song.

Chen Song: Lu, I just spoke with my father on the phone. We’ve agreed to sell you that item. Let me know when you’d like to come pick it up.
Lu Yuan: Let’s find a time in the next few days to meet.

After replying, he immediately transferred the remaining two hundred thousand.

Chen Song was an honest man, as was his family, so there was no need to worry about them running off. Besides, with his current resources, even if they had second thoughts, he could quickly track them down.

Lu Yuan continued driving, reflecting on the recent things he had done. In truth, aside from the ancient Bodhi tree, even the complete “Dao De Jing” from Christie’s, or Chen Song’s ancestral cauldron—he could have easily had someone steal them for him, saving time and effort.

But he didn’t wish to proceed that way. The reason was simple: not everyone was trustworthy. The Centipede Organization was efficient and discreet, but if he kept using them, not to mention the cost, repeated use would draw too much attention—even invite disaster. After all, those people lived by the blade and were extremely ruthless.

Another reason was that Lu Yuan wanted to remain as hidden as possible in these endeavors, leaving no traces for others to discover. For instance, when buying land or making donations to Mount Dragon and Tiger, he would never use different people for each task, so as not to leave evidence or arouse suspicion.

There were less than two months left before the worldwide anomaly. Time was tight; any mishap would mean all previous efforts would be wasted.

Therefore, Lu Yuan preferred to take the trouble and be meticulous.

Thinking on this, he continued driving until he reached a road along the outer ring of Shanghai. He parked beside a building.

The structure was ancient in style, with flying eaves and elaborate wooden brackets, exuding the elegance of old China. It had five floors, its main body built of wood rather than concrete and steel. Outside the entrance stood two massive stone statues of mythical beasts, each weighing several tons, lifelike and imposing.

To possess such a building in Shanghai was proof enough of its powerful backing.

After getting out of his car, Lu Yuan walked to the entrance and looked up at the plaque above the door. Three bold words were inscribed: Treasure Pavilion.

The calligraphy was vigorous, the strokes like dragons and phoenixes in flight.

Without a word, he walked straight in.

The first floor was spacious and grand, furnished with various chairs and screens. At the reception desk, a young woman in a cheongsam with refined features and excellent bearing greeted him. Lu Yuan spoke without preamble, “Hello, I’d like to go to the sixth floor.”

The receptionist smiled politely, “I’m sorry, sir, but Treasure Pavilion doesn’t have a sixth floor.”

Lu Yuan said nothing more. He took a black-gold card from his inner pocket and placed it on the counter.

Seeing the card, her expression changed, and her tone became respectful, even alluring. “Ah, a distinguished guest—this way, please.”

With that, she stepped out, bowed slightly, and led the way with graceful movements.

Lu Yuan’s eyes showed appreciation as he retrieved the card and followed her.

Treasure Pavilion, to outsiders, seemed only a high-end restaurant and private club—a place for lavish entertainment. But in truth, it was far more than that. It was an underground trading hub—a black market, to put it simply.

One could buy all kinds of things there that were forbidden in open commerce. First, however, one’s net worth had to be at least one hundred million in cash. Second, annual membership dues exceeded a million—just for the membership.

So, very few even knew of its existence, let alone qualified to enter.

Lu Yuan was one of those few.

Soon, under the receptionist’s guidance, he passed through several corridors to an elevator, which had only one button—sixth floor.

But when they entered, the elevator moved downward.

Indeed, the sixth floor was not above, but underground.

After a short while, the doors opened. Lu Yuan stepped out, the receptionist remaining inside.

Before him stretched a long, dimly lit corridor. Emerging from it, he entered a vast hall, reminiscent of a bar but much larger and more brightly lit. Every seat was crafted from precious wood, each worth hundreds of thousands or more.

This was the sixth floor of Treasure Pavilion.

There were only a dozen or so people there, aside from the staff. Of course, everyone who could access this place was a billionaire.

“Ha ha, Mr. Lu, it’s been days since I last saw you. You look even more spirited!” A middle-aged, well-dressed, portly man approached with a hearty grin—Manager Lin, head of Treasure Pavilion’s sixth floor.

“Manager Lin, let’s skip the small talk.” Lu Yuan waved his hand and got straight to the point. “The item I requested last time—have you found it?”