Chapter 127: Both True and False (Monthly Ticket Bonus 1111)

So it really was hidden in plain sight?

Before, I was only focused on the headline, and my mind was full of "Seventeen Branch," so I truly didn't notice.

Looking closer: the newspaper is already yellowed, with a heavy, aged scent, but the area beneath the headline is very smooth, no different from anywhere else.

At the very least, it can be confirmed that this was not formed later, but is naturally so.

Thinking of this, Lin Sicheng slowly let out a breath.

A misprinted newspaper, and a People's Daily at that... this thing is rarer than misprinted currency.

But given the ideology of the sixties and the rigorous style of a certain General Office, Lin Sicheng always felt that this shouldn't be a misprint.

At least not a misprint as ordinary people would think of it.

Lin Sicheng tried hard to recall: one can tell from the newspaper's content that the Atomic Bomb explosion was at 16:15 in the afternoon. According to subsequently declassified information, the test-firing troops repeatedly verified and tested the data, and the urgent telegram to Beijing arrived at night.

It was already early morning for the Xinhua News Agency, and it was late at night when the People's Daily urgently published the red-headed extra. The sample newspaper was presented to the General Office and delivered to the leaders by the morning of the 17th. Later, after the leaders' Artifact Research and decision, the date was still published as "Telegram of the 16th."

Simultaneously, the newspaper office printed it urgently, delivered it urgently to all central organs and provincial committee organs, and distributed it for free to Beijing citizens at the same time.

Lin Sicheng let his thoughts wander: could this copy be the sample edition presented to the General Office for the leaders to see?

Looking at the postmark again: October 17, 1964... the time matches up as well.

But why would it be mailed to Shaanxi?

Lin Sicheng did not know the reason for the time being, but at least he knew that the recipient's rank was certainly not low.

Turning the newspaper over, eight characters were written in fountain pen at the top of the back: Unwavering determination, man can conquer nature...

A classic Shu Style, with a neat structure and spirited flair.

Suddenly, the corners of Lin Sicheng's mouth curled up.

Ye Anning was already curious, and seeing Lin Sicheng like this, she felt as if a cat were scratching at her heart.

But even so, she still held back from asking, her large eyes blinking.

Lin Sicheng smiled: "Sister Anning, let me verify something first!"

As he spoke, he took out his phone and dialed Wang Qi Zhi.

It rang several times before the call connected, but the voice that came through was Dan Wangshu's: "Sicheng, wait a moment... Qi Zhi, Wang Qi Zhi?"

With a couple of grunts, as if he hadn't woken up yet, Wang Qi Zhi said groggily: "Sicheng?"

One could tell immediately that the teacher had drunk too much again last night.

But since the call had gone through?

Lin Sicheng organized his phrasing: "Teacher, Youjian and I were strolling around Dongyue Temple with Sister Anning, and we picked up an envelope and a newspaper... the envelope is stamped with 'Black Seventeen Branch'."

"Oh, Seventeen Branch... hmm, wait, what branch?"

"Beijing Seventeen Branch, and there is a 'Jia' character after the branch!"

Wang Qi Zhi processed this for a good while, then let out an "Eh": "That's not right, Seventeen Branch Jia, wasn't that discontinued in the seventies?"

Lin Sicheng explained: "Yes, Teacher, the stamp is dated October 17, '64, and it contained a People's Daily extra with the headline: Atomic Bomb explosion..."

He paused slightly: "But the newspaper has no date!"

With a "creak," Wang Qi Zhi seemed to sit up: "Are you sure there's no date?"

"Yes, original edition, original paper, I can be sure it was blank to begin with!"

"Is there a recipient's name?"

"There was originally, but now only a 'ear' radical remains. Before and after it are 'Please forward' and 'Comrade'... it's in Mao Style, very vigorous!"

Comrade... Mao Style!

Wang Qi Zhi's drunkenness faded by more than half: "Is there any other information, like other handwriting or anything?"

"Yes!"

Lin Sicheng flipped the newspaper over and looked at those eight characters: "Unwavering determination, man can conquer nature... it's in Shu Style, the structure is neat, but the brushwork is extremely heavy, and the last stroke of the character for 'nature' is slightly long... presumably the spirit was very uplifted at the time, caused by an impassioned mood..."

Wang Qi Zhi was stunned, not knowing what to say.

Lin Sicheng just went for a stroll?

Wang Qi Zhi pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a breath: "Do you know who these two people are?"

"I know!"

"You think that's the end of it?" Wang Qi Zhi laughed, "Look closely, is there a '1' under the date of the postmark?"

Lin Sicheng was taken aback, and then his eyes narrowed: under the date of the postmark, wasn't there indeed a (1)?

Why hadn't he noticed it before?

No, he had noticed it, but he hadn't gotten around to pondering it.

But thinking about it now: "Branch" represents the organization, "Jia" represents the unit, so this (1) could be seen as a specific office number.

Or even specific to an individual.

Although it was just a postmark, just a code, the meaning was only a reference. But what it referred to was a great man.

Coupled with the personal handwriting of those two people earlier... Lin Sicheng's heart couldn't help but skip a beat.

Many things cannot be thought about deeply, and even less can they be spoken of, as if there were an invisible force...

It is not an antique, yet its value and significance far exceed that of an antique.

"Sicheng, keep the item well... you aren't short on money anyway, if you really are short on money, just tell your teacher!"

"I know, Teacher!"

"Hmm, we'll be back tomorrow, we'll talk then!"

After saying a few words, Wang Qi Zhi hung up the phone.

The three of them were huddled together, and the phone volume wasn't low, so they had all heard it clearly.

Wang Youjian was still young and naturally didn't understand, but Ye Anning understood all too well.

Since he understood the value of this set of things, he understood even better the concept that from sitting down to standing up, Lin Sicheng had taken less than five minutes to acquire this item.

This was not a Cultural Relic, this was not an antique, but a newspaper from the new China, an industrially printed envelope.

New or old, the era, the paper—none of it mattered.

One could only rely on the handwriting, only rely on the postmark... especially that postmark; having been immersed in this for so many years, he didn't have the slightest impression of it at all. What a wealth of knowledge Lin Sicheng must have stored up to be able to recognize it at a single glance?

Ye Anning suddenly understood the phrase her aunt often kept on her lips: even though she had long since been numbed by Lin Sicheng, every time there was a new instance, she was still stunned by him, feeling inferior.

Thinking back to how Lin Sicheng had accompanied them to stroll and play earlier, she felt that Lin Sicheng had lost a hundred million...

She bit her lip: "Youjian, are you hungry!"

How could he be hungry?

After strolling for half a day, Ye Anning had tasted so much; what she couldn't finish, and what didn't taste good, all went into his stomach...

Little Pangzi shook his head vigorously.

"That's good!" Pinching little Pangzi's cheek, Ye Anning looked at Lin Sicheng: "Let's look some more!"

The two were of one mind; as soon as they saw Ye Anning's expression, they knew what he was thinking. Lin Sicheng looked at his watch: "It's past four!"

"Usually, work doesn't end until six!" Ye Anning urged him, "Look a bit more, what if?"

That was true too.

Luck is something that is indeed hard to say for sure sometimes.

Lin Sicheng nodded and tucked the envelope and newspaper into his inner pocket.

There were many more people now, but most were here to set up stalls, and nine times out of ten, they had just come over after being appraised at the central hall.

Many of them were still holding the Identification Certificate that had just been issued.

After walking only a few steps, a cursing voice came from behind, and Lin Sicheng subconsciously turned his head.

An old man, with slightly gray hair at his temples, looked to be about sixty years old. Under his arm, he held two long boxes, which looked like Calligraphy and Painting.

Following behind him was a young man carrying two of those poles used to prop up Calligraphy and Painting.

The two walked and cursed: "What kind of bullshit Expert? My Southern Song Dynasty painting, in his mouth, it became a new imitation?"

"And the Chairman, he can go..."

"I don't believe it! I don't believe there's no one here who knows their stuff..."

The voice was quite loud; the two found an empty stall, propped up the poles, and took out two more paintings to hang up.

They were meticulously mounted, with a transparent protective film on the outside; they were very shiny and very bright.

Lin Sicheng subconsciously glanced at them twice: both were ink Landscape Pattern, one was a hilly Xie, and one was a boat on the water.

The misty Rain, the desolate artistic conception, the delicate brushwork, and the distinct ink tones.

At a first glance, they really were painted quite well.

But looking closely, the silk texture was bright to the point of being white, new to the point of glowing.

The ink marks were also very deep, to the point that the seal in the blank space was still bright, bright red.

Lin Sicheng walked a little closer and looked at the largest seal: "Yu Chisheng"!

Behind it was another one: "Collection of the Ma Family"!

Huh, Ma Lin of the Southern Song Dynasty?

The son of Ma Yuan, one of the four great masters of the Southern Song Dynasty, also a court painter, known as the "Fifth Master of the Southern Song Dynasty."

But that was not the point; the strange thing was that Lin Sicheng looked at these two paintings and actually felt they were "both real and fake"?

In plain language: looking at the brushwork, brush intent, color composition, and artistic conception, they seemed real.

But looking at the ink color, seal color, and silk texture, they looked fake no matter how he looked at them.

How strange?