Chapter 6 — I Can't Be Patient Anymore

The next morning, at nine o'clock, I was in front of Giang Thanh TV station, neither early nor late, just enough to witness the entire play begin. There were already many people lined up outside, mostly middle-aged and older people, everyone holding in their hands their "treasures"—paintings, porcelain, ancient coins, even strange stones that they believed were precious. I glanced around. Immediately saw them. Mother-in-law and Chu Dinh stood at the front of the line, Chu Dinh holding a brocade box—the same box I used to hold the vase. The mother-in-law wore a brand new red outfit, her hair was combed smoothly, standing there smiling and chatting with the person next to her, her face full of pride.

"Oh, it's a family heirloom from my daughter-in-law's family. It's said to be from the Ming Dynasty! Bring it to an expert today to see. If it's real, you'll make a fortune!"

A lady next to her looked at her with admiration.

“You are truly blessed!”

“There's still something to say!”

The more the mother-in-law spoke, the more enthusiastic she became.

"My son is talented and married, although his family is poor, but he still leaves behind some things..."

I stood at the back of the crowd. Quietly look. Chu Minh was not present, he must have gone to work. At half past nine, admission to the hall begins. I followed the flow of people in, chose a hidden corner to sit down, the recording room was not large, about a hundred seats, enough to create a noisy but tight stage. In the middle of the stage is a long table, behind which are three chairs—the experts' seats. In front there is a display platform to place antiques. The host is a man in his thirties, having a quick discussion with the crew about the recording process. Exactly ten o'clock. Livestream begins. The opening words rang out, introducing the experts. Sitting in the middle was a white-haired old man, called Lao Lao, a leading ceramic appraisal expert, working in this program for more than ten years. The first few dishes are brought up. An uncle brought along "the autograph of Duong Ba Ho". Elder Liu glanced at him and immediately said it was a print product. His face turned pale, he held the painting and quietly walked down. The whole hall burst into laughter. My mother-in-law sat below, watching with fascination, even leaning close to Chu Dinh's ear and whispering with a firm voice:

"See, there are so many fakes! I told you, that torn vase of his has no value..."

Chu Dinh also nodded:

“That's right mom, don't expect too much.”

In the corner of the room. I tightened the document bag in my hand. Wait silently. My palms were wet with sweat, each drop was cold, as if foreshadowing that something was about to break and could not be saved.

“Next was a guest who brought a Thanh Hoa porcelain vase, said to be a family heirloom from the Ming Chenghua period.”

The MC's voice rang out clearly in the auditorium.

“Invite the guest to the stage!”

My mother-in-law straightened her back and walked up, holding the brocade box, the stage light shining directly on her, her smile blooming like a fake daisy.

“Hello, may I ask what the origin of this item is?”

MC politely asked.

“For my daughter-in-law!”

Her voice resonated.

“His mother left it behind, saying it was a family heirloom from the Ming Dynasty!”

"Oh? Can you open it so we can see?"

“Okay, okay!”

She opened the box and carefully took out the vase. My mother's Thanh Hoa porcelain vase. The winding vine pattern, the soft glaze, the smooth body of the vase, under the light it emits a gentle light like something that has passed through many years. I sit and watch from afar, heart tightened. Old man Liu wore glasses, held a magnifying glass, and bent down to observe. The entire auditorium was silent. The mother-in-law stood there, hands clasped together, eyes glued to him, as if waiting for a life-changing verdict. Five minutes passed. Old man Liu had a small exchange with the two experts next to him, then took off his glasses and shook his head.

“Grandma, this item… is not right.”

The smile on the mother-in-law's face stiffened.

“What… is that not true?”

“I mean… this is a fake.”

Old Liu's voice was calm, but firm.

"Look at the color of this Thanh Hoa glaze, it's too bright, Thanh Hoa's doesn't have that color. Add in the earthy texture, it's too smooth, the real thing should be ivory white mixed with green, but this one is too white. The most important thing is the bottom, the words 'Dai Minh Thanh Hoa year of production' are written hard, there's no spirit, the real thing has aura."

With every sentence he said, his mother-in-law's face turned a little paler.

"So, this is a fake, not worth the money."

He concluded.

“Market price, at most a few hundred yuan.”

The audience began to whisper. Some people are sorry. Someone laughed. The mother-in-law stood on stage, her face was sometimes red, sometimes white, her eyes turned from hope to disappointment, then quickly turned to anger.

“I know!”

She suddenly shouted.

"I know that his mother is so poor that she can't have any decent things! Even if she's a piece of trash, she can treat it like a treasure!"

MC quickly intervened:

"Don't get excited, it's normal to collect fake and real things..."

“What is normal!”

The mother-in-law grabbed the vase and held it high.

"What's the use of keeping trash! I'll smash it!"

“Miss, don't—”

Can't stop yet. The vase was thrown hard on the floor.

“BAM—BANG—”