John finally convinced his mother to give Liyan a job at Huntington Auction House.

　　Huntington Auction House was located on Banbury Road in Oxford, housed in a three-story red brick building. It looked modest from the outside but was quite grand inside. Next to the auction house was a modern-style chapel funded by the auction house itself, where they held their spring and autumn auctions. Employees at Huntington Auction House took great pride in their work, knowing their company was a significant taxpayer in Oxfordshire.

　　The manager personally escorted Liyan to her office. As they passed through the large office where the regular staff worked, she saw everyone busily preparing auction posters, meticulously editing photos of artworks, and organizing catalogs of art pieces. Each person was absorbed in their tasks, with no time even for a coffee break. Liyan thought to herself, "This is definitely not a company that keeps idle workers."

　　Liyan inspected her office. The walls had a fresh coat of paint, the floors were recently waxed, and the ceiling light was so new it was blindingly white. Four storage cabinets lined one wall. One of the cabinets displayed various trophies and certificates—awards like "Outstanding Employer," "Philanthropic Enterprise," and "Model Company," along with about twenty beautifully crafted company brochures. The other three cabinets were empty, though it was clear they had previously held items, as indicated by the marks on the shelves. It was evident that the office had been hastily arranged; it had not been used before. Liyan guessed it had originally been a storage room for items not regularly used, like those awards and certificates praising the auction house. If any important documents had once been here, they had now been moved out.

　　Liyan felt both grateful and uneasy about her private office at the auction house—a privilege usually reserved for senior management and chief appraisers. She knew this special treatment was because she was the Huntington family’s daughter-in-law. But she didn’t want special treatment; she longed to work alongside everyone else in the main office, rather than being isolated from the regular employees. However, things didn’t go as she wished, and she couldn’t raise objections. Complaining would make her seem ungrateful and pretentious. She resolved to prove herself and not let anyone say she got in solely because of her connections. Ironically, her desk was filled with a complete set of brand-new office supplies, including a water dispenser and a printer, but lacked any actual work documents. She understood her mother-in-law and the manager’s intentions; they hoped she would find it too difficult and return to the estate to continue playing the role they had assigned her—the pampered canary. Determined to take the initiative, she persistently requested work until the general manager, Isaac Hopkins, handed her a few beautifully bound art catalogs to familiarize herself with.

　　After a week at the auction house, Mr. Hopkins still hadn’t assigned her any specific tasks. Liyan had already memorized the four thick volumes of the Huntington Autumn Auction art catalogs.

　　“Mr. Hopkins, I’ve finished reading all the art catalogs you gave me. Is there any other work I can do?” she asked.

　　Mr. Hopkins apologized, “It’s the off-season right now, so there’s nothing specific for you to do. If you have nothing else, you can leave early.”

　　Liyan felt frustrated. She had finally gotten a job opportunity, only to encounter another version of Nanny at Huntington Auction House. With the autumn auction approaching, she saw through the glass walls that the staff were all working overtime, while she remained a canary in a different setting.

　　She felt embarrassed to complain to John, knowing he had already gone against his mother’s wishes to get her the job at the auction house. If the staff saw them being too close at work, it would only reinforce the impression that she was just the Huntington family’s daughter-in-law. Liyan resolved to break the impasse herself.

　　On the first floor of Huntington Auction House, there was a coffee bar where everyone would gather for lunch, bringing their own food or ordering takeout. Today, Liyan had intentionally ordered a large takeout meal to share, hoping to make some connections. The principle of “a shared meal is a step towards friendship” seemed to work universally. Liyan made her first friend at the auction house, Grace Craig, a veteran who had been working there for 11 years.

　　“Hey, want some fish and chips? I ordered too much today,” Liyan called out to her.

　　“Thanks.” Grace looked a bit surprised but quickly masked her expression. “They say you're John's wife?”

　　“John and I fell in love while studying at Merton College. I guess everyone knows that now,” Liyan admitted openly.

　　Grace took a piece of fish offered by Liyan and chewed it slowly, not sure how to continue the conversation, deliberately taking her time with the small piece of fish.

　　Liyan tried to sound casual, “So, Grace, what do you usually work on?”

　　“I handle the appraisal and valuation of auction items. I specialize in Western paintings, prints, and sculptures,” Grace said, pointing to her name badge.

　　“That must be tough lately,” Liyan said sympathetically.

　　“Tell me about it. This autumn auction includes Chinese ceramics, which I’m not familiar with. Manager Hopkins asked me to appraise them, and it’s driving me crazy.”

　　“Are you talking about the Song Dynasty Jun ware rose-purple glazed zun flowerpot, the Yuan Dynasty Jintan kiln blue-and-white cloud dragon jar, and the Ming Dynasty Xuande imperial kiln blue-and-gold dragon bowl?” Liyan listed effortlessly.

　　Grace was impressed by Liyan’s knowledge, “Your memory is amazing! I can’t even pronounce those names properly.”

　　“This is what I studied; it's basic for me!”

　　“Can you help me out?” Grace felt that Liyan was approachable and leaned in closer, speaking softly. “Can you help me with two pieces of porcelain? I’m not familiar with Chinese imperial kilns and can’t determine their authenticity.”

　　“How about this afternoon?” Liyan, who was eager for such an opportunity, tried to remain calm.

　　“I’m in office 215. Come by at 2 PM, and I’ll take you to the Asian storeroom.”

　　Grace took Liyan to the basement. They first registered their names at the security desk, then unlocked a combination lock and a fingerprint lock. Grace struggled to push open the second door, and Liyan immediately stepped in to help.

　　"Thanks, I usually have the security guard help me with this."

　　"This door is really heavy."

　　"Of course, it's an armored door."

　　"To get into Oxford University's labs, all you need is a student ID card."

　　"The artifacts in university labs are valued for their historical and cultural significance. Some are worth a lot, but most aren’t as valuable as the items in this Asian storeroom," Grace said, tapping the floor. "Guess what's under this?"

　　"Marble."

　　"There's a six-centimeter-thick steel plate under the marble," Grace added.

　　The security level of the storeroom was comparable to a large bank vault, which amazed Liyan. She examined the Asian storeroom closely—various porcelains, Buddha statues, and bronzes were neatly organized, with a level of detail that rivaled Merton's labs. Some of the artifacts were even superior to those at Merton College.

　　Grace showed Liyan two pieces of porcelain she was unsure about: a Song Dynasty Jun ware rose-purple glazed zun-style flowerpot and a Song Dynasty Ding ware white porcelain bowl with carved peony patterns.

　　The flowerpot was glazed with a kiln change glaze. The rim and neck had a sky-blue glaze with rose-pink hues, as bright as the morning sun; the belly had a sauce-purple glaze, vivid and brilliant like the evening glow. The base had five drainage holes and a carved "six" character. As early as the Song Dynasty, craftsmen discovered that copper and iron oxides would create a kiln change effect at high temperatures, with the glaze showing a blend of blue, purple, and red. The flowerpot had a rounded and full shape, exuding a sense of prosperity, and remarkably, it was entirely undamaged. Song Dynasty emperors loved culture and the arts, priding themselves as scholars, and paid great attention to daily items like flowerpots. The existing official kiln Jun ware pieces are all top-notch. There was an old saying, "Without Jun ware, one cannot boast of wealth."

　　The bowl, slightly shallower than a regular rice bowl, was not used for holding soup or rice. Its flat, round base had a diameter of 4 cm. The bowl's wall was not a seamless arc but divided into six segments like lotus petals, each carved with lifelike peony flowers. The clay and glaze were as pure and white as snow, the glaze was smooth and delicate, and the clay was thin and light.

　　Liyan asked Grace, "Do you have a magnifying glass?"

　　Grace handed it to her.

　　Liyan carefully examined the two pieces of porcelain again. Five minutes later, she gave her verdict, "They're both fakes."

　　Grace shook her head repeatedly. "No way! You must be mistaken."

　　Liyan explained, "These two pieces are high-quality replicas. The craftsmanship of the flowerpot is excellent; the colors, shape, and the inscription on the bottom are all convincingly done, indicating that the forger closely followed an authentic piece. However, the glaze on this flowerpot is too thin. Due to the limitations of colorant materials at the time, Song Dynasty Jun ware couldn't achieve such a high level of glazing. The thickness of this glaze is typical of official kilns from the Yongzheng and Qianlong periods of the Qing Dynasty. But as a high-quality replica, this flowerpot is still considered an antique, though its price is only about one-tenth of an authentic Song Dynasty Jun ware."

　　"As for this 'bowl,' it’s completely white and translucent. Song Dynasty Ding ware used coal as fuel, resulting in an oxidation flame, which caused the white glaze to have a slightly yellowish tint due to trace amounts of iron forming ferric oxide. Additionally, Song Dynasty Ding ware has a distinctive characteristic called 'tears,' which are marks left by the glaze during firing that appear yellowish in thicker areas. This piece, however, is not yellowish and lacks 'tears.' It’s a modern replica, and at best, it’s an expensive vase, not an antique."

　　Grace was impressed. "Liyan, you really know your stuff. You're better than the high-paid porcelain experts we have at the auction house."

　　Liyan modestly replied, "This is my field of expertise. But I’m curious, why didn’t I see this 'bowl' in the auction catalog?"

　　"This 'bowl' was privately consigned by an elderly gentleman. He said he urgently needed money and wanted to find a buyer privately to speed up the sale and save a lot on commission. Most importantly, he didn't want anyone to know about his financial troubles. Private transactions are quite common now, making up about a third of the total transactions at the auction house, and our proportion is even higher."

　　"So he wasn’t in urgent need of money; he wanted to 'scam' money with a high-quality replica."

　　"Exactly, that old gentleman was really cunning," Grace sighed in relief. "Thank goodness for you; otherwise, I would have been in big trouble. The auction house would have suffered a significant financial loss."

　　"It’s not your fault. Where did the high-paid porcelain expert from Huntington Auctions go?”

　　“He was poached by Sotheby’s. They offered him twice what we did. In recent years, the quantity and quality of Chinese antiques at major UK auction houses have skyrocketed, and the prices keep hitting new highs every year. We, as a mid-sized auction house, just can’t compete.”

　　Talking with Grace was more enlightening than years of study for Liyan. After being in the ivory tower for so long, she finally understood the current state of the UK auction houses, a stark contrast to the museum industry.

　　News of Liyan exposing the forgeries quickly spread, changing her colleagues' attitudes from cautious distance to genuine respect. Mr. Hopkins, the general manager, no longer saw her as mere decoration and frequently assigned her to authenticate Chinese and Asian antiques. Liyan found a long-lost sense of accomplishment.

　　At dinner, John boasted about Liyan, “Mom, did you know? Liyan exposed two fake consigned items and saved the auction house from significant losses.”

　　“I heard from Mr. Hopkins. Thank you,” Mrs. Huntington raised her glass of wine to Liyan.

　　John, kind-hearted and easily swayed, had a resistance to running the company. Mrs. Huntington knew all too well that John’s character and abilities were not suited to be the auction house’s successor. Approaching the age of knowing one’s destiny, she still worried about John’s lack of responsibility. Whenever she woke up from nightmares, counting the family and company members who depended on her but finding no one she could rely on, she couldn’t help but sigh. In those moments, her usually commanding presence faded, replaced by an ordinary mother deeply concerned about her children’s future. Her energy and strength were waning, and she tried her best to conceal her fatigue and worries, even from her confidant Nanny. But how much longer could she keep up the facade?

　　Mrs. Huntington had her heart set on the daughter of the Russell family. Their families had complementary strengths—one with generations of commercial success and the other deeply rooted in the civil service. If John married Rachel, perhaps he would mature into a responsible man; with the protection of the Russell family, the auction house’s business would be more secure. Having ensured John attended elite schools and lived a life of luxury, Mrs. Huntington assumed he would naturally associate with the right people. But she never anticipated her meticulous plans being upended by a Chinese foreign student.

　　Shen Liyan was not the daughter-in-law Mrs. Huntington had envisioned, but she couldn’t deny that with Liyan’s company, John had not only graduated on time but was also diligently fulfilling his duties at the auction house. Liyan’s talents in the field of cultural heritage seemed tailor-made for the Huntington family. Seeing Liyan’s eagerness to prove her worth, her careful efforts to please, and her cautious avoidance of all things Chinese, Mrs. Huntington felt a bit of solace—if Liyan wholeheartedly supported John and remained loyal to the Huntington family, the auction house would have a promising future. They should hurry and have a child. Although the idea of a grandchild with half-Chinese blood repulsed Mrs. Huntington, a child would firmly bind Liyan to the Huntington family, turning her into a loyal servant of the clan.

　　Liyan downed her wine in one gulp and toasted Mrs. Huntington in return. She was self-aware enough to realize that her title as a distinguished Morton College graduate was merely a hasty decision by Mrs. Huntington to make her appear a suitable match for John. It was a quick fix to give her an impressive facade when introducing her to Oxford’s elite. Beyond the distinction of "representing Morton College in the graduation speech," what genuine credentials did she have to bring to the Huntington family?

　　The wealthy don’t marry merely for love, even if they already have plenty of it. They seek partners who can strengthen their empire. Regardless of how genuine her feelings for John were, to others, her marriage seemed like an unexpected twist.

　　Historically, a woman’s standing in her husband’s family has often hinged on the strength of her own family’s background. In this respect, Liyan felt insecure. Though she had made a grand entrance into the Huntington estate, to her mother-in-law, she was nothing more than a freeloader who hadn’t earned her place. In the study-abroad circles, she was viewed as a calculating gold-digger. Aware of her own vulnerabilities, Liyan had always been cautious and humble. But when someone is set on finding faults, excuses are easily found. Her mother-in-law’s occasional cold remarks were something she had to endure. The mother-in-law-daughter-in-law relationship has always been fraught, and few women in her position would willingly pass up the chance to retaliate. Given that she had married into the Huntington family, she considered herself fortunate that her mother-in-law had not been overtly antagonistic or undermined her. Mrs. Huntington’s heartfelt “thank you” was the first real acknowledgment Liyan had received from her mother-in-law since joining the estate, and it was based on her professional skills. This marked a turning point, making her feel she finally had a stake in the Huntington family and was no longer an outsider.

　　Taking advantage of the softened attitude, Liyan decided to prepare a Chinese meal at the estate. John had even arranged for Mrs. Huntington to permit Viara to help her. Clad in an apron, Liyan washed, chopped, and prepared ingredients with a sense of fulfillment that came from cooking for herself.

　　Seeing Liyan so happy also made John feel content. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, but Liyan gently removed his hands and kissed his cheek. “It’s wonderful to have Viara’s help. You should go to the dining room and chat with Mom and Catherine.”

　　John understood Liyan didn’t want their affection to be too visible in front of his mother, so he made a playful face and left.

　　The oil sizzled in the skillet as Liyan added shrimp to the olive oil. Cooking Chinese food with British cookware was a real challenge, but the dishes that emerged looked beautiful. Chinese cuisine may be delicious, but it doesn’t prioritize presentation. With the limited range of ingredients available in England, Liyan managed to prepare pan-fried salmon, king prawns, poached chicken, squirrel fish, and stir-fried mushrooms with vegetable hearts. Although she had hoped to make bamboo shoots and cured meat, she improvised with lettuce instead of bamboo shoots and Spanish ham instead of cured meat. Viara made passion fruit yogurt as a dessert, rich in flavor and a refreshing palate cleanser. Liyan prepared extra portions so the staff could also enjoy her homemade Chinese dishes.

　　Everyone praised Liyan’s cooking. Catherine enthusiastically recommended that she showcase her skills in London, calling her a natural chef. According to Catherine, the signature dishes of Chinese restaurants in London couldn’t match Liyan’s cooking, and if she opened a restaurant there, it would surely be a hit. John lamented his British upbringing and the poor-quality food he had grown up with, saying it had diminished half the joy in his life. Mrs. Huntington feigned irritation and asked John, “When have I ever deprived you?” The atmosphere in the estate hadn’t been this relaxed and enjoyable in a long time. Since then, apart from Nanny, the staff at the estate had also become much warmer and more welcoming toward Liyan.