Chapter 234

Considering the condition of the wounded, we did not linger long in Kalamir. Three days later, our international detachment bade farewell to the local herders and set off back to Beijing.

As soon as we reached the urban area, I had Pangzi quickly summon Da Jin Ya, and we met at Ming Shu's residence to collect all the valuable antiques. Of course, I did not let Shirley Yang of the detachment know about this; Shirley Yang wanted to take A Xiang to the hospital for a follow-up on her wound, and I made up some excuse to slip away first.

Ming Shu had tried several times but failed, so he reluctantly brought me home with a worried frown. Beijing was once famed as having "three thousand six hundred major alleys, and minor alleys as numerous as cow hairs," but after the reform and opening-up, with urban redevelopment, courtyard houses gradually diminished.

Ming Shu's residence is located near Fucheng Gate, which can be considered a quiet spot amidst the bustle. Although somewhat dilapidated, each brick and tile possesses an ancient, decaying beauty, retaining somewhat the atmosphere of "heavenly canopy fishbowl pomegranate tree, sir fat dog plump lass."

The more I looked, the more I felt this courtyard was quite refined, and I couldn't help but regret a little. If I had let Ming Shu include this residence as part of the compensation back then, he would not have refused, but alas we only took the antiques and calligraphy from the residence.

Not long after, Pangzi and Da Jin Ya each arrived carrying two large suitcases, rushing over in a flurry. Upon seeing me, Da Jin Ya bared his gleaming gold teeth and said: "Oh, my Uncle Hu, you've made me miss you to death. Since you went to Tibet, my eyelids have twitched every day, hoping the Central Red Army would come to save us from the northern passes like a savior—finally you're back. Now the situation at Panjiayuan is bad; business can't be done. In these days you've been away, I haven't even had anyone to consult with..."

I said to Da Jin Ya: "We nearly came to grief on Kunlun Mountain—who would have thought our base would also be difficult? But these matters can wait until we have time later. For now, let's divide the land like wealthy landlords. Ming Shu has already given us all the antique objects in this house as remuneration. I and Pangzi know nothing about appraising the age and value of antiques—we're like a bottle not full, half a bottle shaking—so you'll need to give these a careful look so we can cash them out quickly."

Da Jin Ya said: "Uncle Hu, Pangzi, you two just take a look—rest assured. Though I'm no good at tomb-robbing skills, when it comes to discerning ancient inscriptions, ancient jade, and miscellaneous items, I truly am not boasting. In the capital city, there are many experts, yet I have yet to meet anyone who can compare with me."

Pangzi was so pleased his mouth could barely close, one arm tightly locking Ming Shu's neck: "Clearing out the gold ingot piece, dividing land and fields—truly busy. Ming Shu, we won't stand on ceremony with you anymore. Between us brothers, who owes whom? When you first fired at me, I didn't even feel right saying anything—so no more talk, just hurry up and open the door."

Ming Shu had no choice but to open the door of the room where the antiques were kept. Inside, everything remained as before: several ancient sandalwood cabinets were filled with numerous antiques, leaving one unsure where to look. This place was no different from when we first came, except for a thirteen-ribbed floral porcelain cat that had been added—this item was never valuable to begin with, and we didn't care much for it either.

Da Jin Ya had long been fixated on and never forgotten the phoenix-shaped warm jade that Ming Shu always carried on his person. That item had already fallen into Pangzi's hands, and now he produced it to compile an inventory and estimate the total value. The funds for our business venture in Meiguo this time must come from this.

Da Jin Ya, ignoring everything else, finally held the jade phoenix in his hand this time and could not help but exclaim with genuine admiration: "To say that grinding jade into powder and eating it could grant immortality is unscientific, but beautiful jade does have the effects of nourishing the complexion, sustaining health, and preserving beauty—this is an indisputable fact. Empress Dowager Cixi, the Old Buddha, insisted on using jade for beauty every day. Back then, Emperor Yang of Sui, Zhu Gu'er, inserted Kunshan moisturizing jade into his hairpin, used no orchid cream, yet his hair remained fresh and lustrous—no woman in the world could match him. But he used Kunshan jade, whereas this jade phoenix from the East Sea seabed is far inferior. As the ancients said: 'A gentleman does not part with jade without cause.' Uncle Hu, in my view, you should not part with this jade phoenix; keep it close as a lost treasure to be passed down through generations."

I took the jade phoenix and examined it. Although there is historical record confirming it is the genuine article used by Yang Guifei, I could still see that the carving clearly exhibits the "Han Eight Knives" style, indicating an age far earlier than the Tang dynasty—it is a rare, exquisite jade that one can encounter but never seek.

However, since this was used by a woman, what use would we have for keeping it? Better to sell it for cash. But then I thought: why not give it to Shirley Yang? This wasn't obtained from tomb-robbing, so she would surely like it. I nodded in agreement, telling Pangzi not to include the jade phoenix in the accounting when settling accounts.

Afterwards, we examined the remaining antiques one by one. Not looking was fine, but once we looked, we realized Ming Shu had fooled us. Antiques, since the Ming and Qing dynasties, have already had many fine imitations, precisely because they possess collectible and hoardable value, worthy of appraisal and play to discern true from false—thus giving the big players room to exert their eyesight, wealth, and courage.

Distinguishing true from false is easy to get started but hard to master. In a sense, the charm of antiques lies precisely in the difficulty of telling them apart. Many items in Ming Shu's house look genuine at first glance, but upon close inspection—by handling, smelling—one knows their value is low; most are merely for show.

Pangzi flew into a rage and was about to use Ming Shu's ribs as a washboard. Ming Shu hurriedly came to me begging for mercy. Earlier, it was just for show, so he filled a whole room with these items. He had painstakingly collected antiques for half a lifetime in Nanyang, and most of them went to pay off gambling debts for his two precious sons. He is actually close to losing everything; otherwise, he couldn't have risked his life going to Kunlun Mountain. Still, among these items, not all are fake—there are a few that are still quite valuable.

I waved Pangzi off: forget it, beating him won't make him cough up gold bars. First, clear out the fakes, then see what remains. So I, Da Jin Ya, and Pangzi got to work, turning over boxes and cabinets to inventory all these objects.

Pangzi, thinking himself discerning, picked up a dark red lotus-shaped porcelain bowl and said: "Lao Hu, Old Gold, look at this—it's definitely kiln-change glaze. The exterior glaze is deep red like blood, inside are stripe-like glaze flowers. I once saw a similar piece taken by the bald Li who specializes in flipping porcelain at Panjiayuan; he said this color is called chicken-blood red or vermilion red, and these internal stripes are called rain-washed wall, looking like water trickling down a wall after rain. If it's from the Jun kiln, it could also be worth a lot."

Da Jin Ya took it, looked, and said: "Pangzi, your standards are truly high—where would you find so many Jun ware pieces? As the saying goes, 'One piece of Jun ware is worth ten thousand gold.' In all these years, I've hardly seen even a few complete pieces. Jun ware has no equal, kiln-change has no pair—where could you casually see such things? In the glaze, red like rouge is best, green like scallion, purple like black next. Its kiln-change is called earthworm-traversing-mud pattern—meaning in the glaze appear winding, extending, uneven-length traces from top to bottom, like earthworms moving through soil—very unique. First, this vessel is not a bowl; it's a brush washer. This color is rose red, a imitation of purple Jun, imitating the incomparably rich grape purple. Judging by form, glaze, ring foot, bubbles, and body, it is not genuine but merely a high-quality imitation from the late Republican era, possibly from Suzhou—worth a thousand yuan would be not bad."

I said to Pangzi and Da Jin Ya: "Even among the fakes, some are finely made—though not as valuable as the genuine, they're better than junk. Who knows, we might still be able to take them to the foreign concessions and exchange them for foreign exchange scrip with foreigners." Saying this, I packed up the brush washer.

Among these miscellaneous genuine and fake antique objects, one caught my eye. It was a porcelain cup: the body was regular, the glaze pure white, shaped like the cups used by leaders during meetings at the Great Hall of the People, but the craftsmanship seemed even more refined, the texture excellent.

Of course, it was still its strong era characteristics that were most attractive: the cup handle was in the form of a sickle and axe head, the lid bore a red five-star and a fist symbol, inscribed with "To achieve national industrialization," and the front of the cup body bore the maxim: "Carry through the general line and general task in all work."

I asked Ming Shu: "This cup shouldn't be fake, but I don't know which leader used it last. Where did you obtain it through exchange or purchase?"

Ming Shu said this was certainly not fake—it was given to him two years ago by a mainland friend, said to be a limited edition. The cup's value is not low; it is a typical republican-era cultural relic. Just take it; as for the rest, leave a few items for me.

Pangzi said after looking: "Earlier, my family seemed to have such a set, still issued by my grandfather when he held meetings. Back then I was young, and Lao Hu had me move things out of the house, using a slingshot to shatter them as targets. Could this broken cup really be worth money?"

Da Jin Ya said: "Back in that era, even now, the cups issued to leaders at meetings are much the same, but this one is definitely different. Take a look at this cup's mark—it's Zhang Songtao's draft, plus the Jingdezhen First Ceramic Painting Arts Cooperative. This cup is no small matter; as I know, it was certainly specially made for the Central Lushan Conference. At the time, this was a major political task, mobilizing Jingdezhen's ceramic painting masters to paint porcelain. Its quantity was limited, and the Zhang Songtao mark is especially rare—it has high value. As a limited edition, its value may not yet be prominent, but with the passage of time, this cup will only grow more valuable."