Short, Light, Free

Chapter 89: The Value of Art (Part 2) I

Chapter 89: The Value of Art (Part 2) I

I instantly ran out and locked my shop up before flagging down a cab to head to the television station.

I dashed into the studio and went up angrily to the receptionist. “That program. Is it here?”

She looked up at me in startlement. “Hi, what is it?”

I looked around and pointed at a television screen not far away, asking anxiously, “Where are they? That auction. Ceramic art. Is that happening here?”

The channel on the television screen switched to another program.

“Wait. You’re talking about ‘Treasure Time’ that screens every Tuesday?” she asked with an awkward smile.

“Yes, that.”

“They’re not here,” she answered.

“There’s no way. I just saw them 20 minutes ago on the screen. I wasn’t far away. Do you have a contact that I can call? They’re cheaters. I am Chalk,” I shouted.

“You must’ve misunderstood, sir. The programs we screen are all pre-recorded, so we’re just screening clips from weeks ago,” she explained.

Two security guards came in from the back. One of them warned, “Please lower your volume when you speak.”

I sighed. “Sorry for being rude. Do you know where they are? Or how I can contact the person in charge of the program?”

“Please follow me, sir,” she requested before walking to the side.

I followed her helplessly with the two security guards trailing behind us in a watchful manner.

She questioned softly, “Did they cheat you of your money? You look really agitated.”

I nodded slightly. “Yeah, they lied to me.”

“There’s no one to monitor this place and it won’t be good for either of us if this blows up. I’ll give you the contact of one of the producers, but don’t tell him that you got it from us.”

I nodded again. “Alright.”

“I’ll get you their name card. Give me a second,” she said before running to a counter.

As I followed, the two security guards made sure to keep me in their sights.

She handed me a name card and I found it oddly familiar.

I scrolled through my phone to search for that number.

Indeed, saved on my phone, was that number attached to a name – Three Customers.

I remembered receiving the exact same name card from one of them.

I stuffed it into my pocket, thinking through everything that had happened.

I left the station and called the customer up.

The line connected quickly.

“Boss Chalk! You’re calling earlier than expected. New pieces? Or are you in need of money?” he asked chirpily.

“Yes, new pieces. Better than those from before so I’m quite excited.”

“We’ll come over in a few days, Boss Chalk. And it’s time you change your mobile phone since you have the money now! That way, you can snap some photographs for us to assess your works. Of course, I’m not saying that your works aren’t good. I’ll have you know, that my boss only has good words for your stuff.”

“So you guys are coming over tomorrow?” I asked.

“I’m still overseas. Will the day after tomorrow be fine? Are you tight on cash? It’s understandable, the rent there is ridiculous,” he sympathized.

“I’ll wait for you then,” I finished before hanging up.

I returned to my shop and for the whole night, I tried to devise a plan.

I decided to confront them when they visited but then I quickly realized that I had no substantial evidence.

I racked my brains for something that would help me figure out what exactly was going on.

The next morning, I bought a tea set and an expensive type of tea leaves, Tieguanyin, in spite of the fact that I never had the habit of drinking tea.

I also bought three thick ropes and some sleeping pills.

I had searched many shops for those sleeping pills before I found a doctor that was willing to prescribe them to me.

“I’ve been under immense pressure and I haven’t been sleeping for three nights now. I can still eat but I find it difficult to sleep,” I told the doctor.

He looked me over clinically and replied, “Your dark eye circles are indeed heavy. I’ll prescribe you eight pills for now because taking any more than that will affect your energy. Don’t take them consecutively, okay?”

On the day that I was to meet the three buyers, I ground the pills into powder and poured it into the teapot.

When they came over in the afternoon, one of them greeted, “Seems like our boss is starting to enjoy life, eh? Drinking tea and all.”

“Oh, you’ve noticed? I just started.” I smiled as I get the pot ready.

“Hey, I did pick up some things from you. You do look a little unaccustomed. Here, let me do it.” He opened the teabox and caught a whiff.

“Wait, what is this tea?”

“Not bad, aye?” I smiled.

“It is decent but I don’t think it’s as good as my boss’. I guess we’ll know better once we try it.” He smiled before gathering the tea set.

Another man added, “Where’s the good stuff you mentioned? Show them to us!”

“Wait here, I’ll go get them.” I headed to the back of the room to gather some ceramic pieces.

I stuck close behind the door, eavesdropping on their conversation.

Minutes passed and one spoke impatiently, “Isn’t he taking too long?”

“His products are only half finished, perhaps they’ve gone out of shape and he’s fine-tuning them. You did squash one of them before.”

“But he’s taking way too long. Should we look for him inside?”

“What for? We’ve done this so many times. He has his own shop and tea set now. Are you afraid that he won’t have the stuff? We’re drinking good tea. He must be rich. Come, this tea is great.”

...

“Hmm, it smells a little strange.”

“Not as good as our boss’. I think you steeped this wrong.”

“How will I get that wrong? Boss gets me to do this for him every time. Maybe the water’s dirty? Why’s there a strange smell?”

I figured that this was the right time, so I came out with my works. “Sorry to keep you guys waiting. How’s the tea? I’ve just started getting into it. The water inside hasn’t been boiled.”

“No wonder it tastes kinda strange,” one commented.

“They’re done, come take a look. I made them these past few days,” I invited.

“They look... quite average. Nothing special,” one critiqued.

“Same price and we’ll take them all, is that alright?” the other added.

“Of course,” I agreed.

They got the money ready and we sealed the deal.

As they were walking toward the door, I called them back.

“Hold on, fellows! I forgot to sign my name.”

The moment they turned their wobbly bodies around, I ran up to the door and locked it.