It was the coldest time in Nash City. It had just snowed last night, and now there were staff clearing the snow blanketing the surrounding streets.

Tightly wrapped in his coat, Finnegan Jules slowly made his way through a filthy alley in the vibrant city of lights, searching for an antique collector.

It was past seven o'clock in the evening, a time when darkness was gradually bleeding into the sky. The streets were denuded of their usual bustling stalls, as the owners had closed early and made for home. The steam jetting out of the sewer blurred the scene in front of his eyes.

The few luxury antique shops were preparing to close soon. After all, nothing beats snuggling into their warm cozy blanket on a cold winter night, with a cup of hot marshmallow cocoa, watching the latest game. As clichéd as it sounded, you can't deny that it was Heaven on Earth.

Finnegan walked into a pawn shop, the owner of which was wearing a dark brown fur coat, sporting curly white hair. He wore a pair of reading glasses and was carefully sizing up the ring in his hand under the light. Finnegan's eyes were filled with hope as he wrung his hands in anxious anticipation.

"Ah hate to break it to ya, son, but... This is just an ordinary light yellow stone ring. It's not the decorative gem on the crown of Charles the Second, the king of Great Britain. This stone isn't really worth anything. Take it from me as a wise appraiser—ah would know. This is just a child's toy; parents buy this as a business trip souvenir to impress their kids." The shop owner, Samuel Wails, shook his head and set the ring in his hand on the glass table.

"But that can't be... My-my mother told me this. It can't be fake. Please take another look!" There was a hint of urgency in Finnegan's eyes. This pale yellow stone ring had been left by his mother, who, when she was alive, had always said that it was worth millions of dollars. It was a reward that the members of the family had been bestowed upon when they served King Charles II II. Ever since his mother's death, he had always treated it as a treasure and kept it well.

Just yesterday, Finnegan's only family member, his younger sister, Freya Jules, had fainted due to leukemia and had been admitted to the hospital, now staying in the intensive care unit. Her medical insurance had only covered part of the cost, and he had yet to gather even half of the rest of the money needed.

Seeing that his sister would miss the best time for bone marrow transplant if she didn't have an operation, he suddenly thought of this gem, which he had later laid all his hopes on. But it turned out to be nothing but a worthless stone under the shop owner's appraisal.

"Ah won't lie to you, son. There's nothing ah can do for ya. Take ya toy and off ya go!" Samuel waved his hand impatiently. "This many years in business, ah have seen so many people like ya; it ain't gon' be easy to dupe me! A word of advice, son: Go and dupe another man. Ah, I don't have time for this!" Samuel pushed him out, clearly losing his patience. Just as he was about to close the door, he saw the pale yellow stone on the table and threw it out.

The yellow stone, which was fragile in quality, shattered into fragments on the ground. All of a sudden, Finnegan's mind went blank! He never knew, not until now, how it felt like to have his hopes crushed. A sense of despair rose from the bottom of his heart and guts.

Samuel sneered. "Well, that's a pity. But that just goes to show what ah told you, eh. It's a fake. Now you see for yourself." He took out two green bills from his pocket and threw them on the ground.

Finnegan crouched down without noticing and held the shattered stone in his hands, his entire person trembling.

There were still three days left, after which the best time for the bone marrow transplant would pass his sister by. Finnegan had exhausted every last method he could think of, but he had only managed to collect less than fifty thousand dollars. He'd also sold some expensive jewelry left by his mother when she was alive. But in the face of nearly three hundred thousand dollars worth of surgery fees, he only felt that the road ahead was dark. At this moment, he was filled with hatred. He didn't hate society, nor did he hate the shop owner. He hated himself.

It was he who was useless. His sister, who depended on him for survival, had to endure the erosion of illness before she could even experience her best years. He hated himself for not being able to take out the money she needed to save her life after so many years! If he had at least managed to make some achievements, he would not have left his sister in this medical quagmire at this moment. He clenched his fists and smashed them onto the ground time and time again. Even though his fist was covered in blood, he didn't notice it at all.

Accompanied by a silent cry, the shattered stone suddenly flashed with a light, undetectable to naked eyes, and directly drilled into his body, sending a tremor along his body. He felt as if an icy cold aura had engulfed him, but in the next moment this aura had once again become scorching hot. While the hot and cold sensation alternated, a nearly transparent human-shaped white smoke rose into the sky and caused the dark clouds in the sky to flash with lightning.

After being tormented by ice and fire nine times in a row, it was as if Finnegan was in purgatory, causing his entire body to sweat profusely.

The voice of an old man sounded in his mind: "Aye, now this is a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect that I would still have the opportunity to pass down my skills. What are the odds? Howdy, my blue-eyed, blond-haired protégé!"

Finnegan seemed to have experienced something straight out of The Chronicles of Narnia.

The voice continued: "Hey, pal, you and I are destined to be together. From now on, I shall guide you along your journey. A little training won't hurt anybody. But unfortunately, I don't have much time left; I can't stay for long. Let's start with your eyes first… Help yourself to it! Au revoir!"

All of a sudden, Finnegan came to his senses, as if he had had a dream. Like something out of a fantasy movie.

Samuel, who was about to close the door to his shop, stared agape at Finnegan, who was squatting on the ground. From Finnegan thumping his fists on the ground, followed by this period of eerie silence, Samuel even thought that Finnegan had had a seizure.

Finnegan raised his head, letting the wave of self-blame and devastation wash over him. But hatred was not going to help him now, and he knew it. He had to do everything he could to make money to save his sister. Thinking of this, he glanced coldly at Samuel, and that was when he realized the change in himself—specifically in his vision. Lining the shelf of the store were things which were emitting a fluorescent color, some of which were light and some deep. When his gaze landed on a gorgeous scabbard, a voice rang out in his mind: "Once belonged to Louis the Eleventh of France, the scabbard is worth three hundred thousand dollars!"

The revelation was like a clap of thunder in his ears, stupefying him.

"What… What the holy hell is going on?" he thought.

"What is wrong with me?"

"Am I actually having a hallucination right now?"

He looked at the next thing in disbelief. It was a glass with a colorful pattern.

"The wine cup used by the King of the Morocco is worth seven thousand dollars!"

"The pure gold wine cup used by the Queen of the 19th century in France is worth eighty thousand dollars!"

Again and again, the voice boomed in his head.

It was real! The voice was so clear, as if it came from the bottom of his heart. Did it come from that yellowstone?

He looked at the traces of blood on the back of his hand, inside which tiny fragments were lodged. Closing his eyes, he seemed to feel that the stone had lost its power, but there was a string of connection between them, as if someone was speaking to him inside his mind.

It immediately occurred to him that it must have been this stone, his mother's memento, that had given him this miraculous ability. Then what about the previous voice?

Immediately after, his eyes surged with wild joy.

He actually had the ability to appraise antiques! It didn't matter which master had granted him this ability; he would make good use of it and earn enough money for his sister's medical expenses as soon as possible. With this ability, no matter how stupid a person was, their lives would be different from before, and as long as he could make good use of this ability, his sister would definitely be saved!

But his face darkened the next moment. If he had no capital, how could he use this ability to make money?

"Son, whatcha lookin' at? Ya trying to blackmail me?" Samuel opened the door again and said sarcastically, "Don't make me regret giving you the two hundred dollars. Now, be a good sport and get lost. Ya don't want me calling the cops, do ya!" There was a hint of threat in his words.

Hearing this, Finnegan took a deep breath and flicked a glance at him. "Unlike you, I still have a conscience!" As soon as he finished speaking, a black Rolls-Royce stopped at the door. A beautiful woman in Chanel haute couture, who exuded a mature aura, got out of the car and walked straight toward the shop, leaving a heavenly scent in her wake. Finnegan couldn't help but be distracted at this moment.

"Samuel, can I get the goods today?"

Samuel was shocked. This woman was his big client, Miss Lovena Smith from Nash City!

"Miss Smith, you're right on time. The goods just arrived an hour ago!" Samuel's face was full of smiles as he carefully took out a box from under the counter.

"Oh, am I glad to see this! This is very important to the Smiths. The price is not a problem, provided that the goods are of top-notch quality."

Samuel smiled and opened the box, revealing a beautiful painting. "Miss Smith, please."

As he pushed the box toward her, Lovena's eyes lit up. She may not be an art enthusiast, but there were countless famous paintings in her family. She still knew how to distinguish authentic ones and fake ones. The sunflower painting inside the box was obviously van Gogh's work. No matter in terms of the style of the painting or the stroke of the brush, Samuel was right. This was obviously the eighth sunflower painting by van Gogh that had been lost for a long time!

When he saw her expression, a hint of satisfaction appeared on Samuel's face. "I spent a lot of money and used a lot of connections to get it!" He added, "It's absolutely authentic. The art appraiser has verified it!"

"How much is it?" Lovena took out her bank card from her bag.

"Forty-three million, but since you are an honored guest of our shop, I'll sell it to you for forty!" Samuel's eyes narrowed.

"I'll swipe the card." Lovena handed over the card directly.

Just as he was about to leave, Finnegan's entire body trembled. Forty freaking million, he thought to himself, forty freaking million and this Miss Smith actually hadn't even stopped to think about it. How much money was this?

Driven by curiosity, he turned his head to look at the painting in the box. There was a hint of hesitation on his face, but he couldn't help but say, "You might want to think twice, Miss Smith. There's something wrong with this painting!"