Chapter 20: Making Up the Numbers

A false alarm, a groundless scare.

At least that is what the doctor thinks: not much toxic gas was inhaled through the respiratory tract, and no signs of "internal irradiation" have been detected for the time being.

Because of the timely cleaning, there is no phenomenon of pollutants seeping through the pores, and the superficial skin burns are extremely minor.

But Lin Sicheng does not think so: for no reason, how could he have gotten cancer in his previous life?

"Don't be in a rush to be discharged; after all, the hospital has the equipment to monitor you at any time."

"It doesn't need to be too long, just stay for half a month first and undergo a systematic check-up again."

"Also, quit that smoking of yours as soon as possible!"

Lin Sicheng's tone was solemn, with quite a bit of indisputability.

Lin Zhangqing and Lin Mingzhi exchanged a glance, feeling a sense of surprise that "the child was still hanging on a pacifier, yet suddenly he can take charge."

Thinking the old man didn't want to quit, Lin Sicheng frowned: "I won't let you quit for nothing: as long as you quit, wherever you tell me to go after graduation, I will go."

Huh, there's such a good deal?

Lin Zhangqing's eyes lit up, "Really!"

"I am your grandson, could I lie to you?"

The old man immediately threw the cigarette case and lighter hidden under his pillow into the trash can: "Fine, I'll quit!"

Lin Sicheng struck while the iron was hot: "It's best not to set up that stall anymore, and as for those Consultant positions at those units, resign from as many as you can!"

The old man wanted to shake his head, his head even stiffened up, but then he hesitated.

That place at Xiaodongmen is like a fish pond to him; unless no goods arrive, as long as they do, few can escape his ears and eyes.

With just a slight move, it's worth half a lifetime of others' work; couldn't Lin Sicheng's family fortune also grow a bit thicker?

Secondly, with his ability placed there, no matter which unit he is a Consultant for, even the biggest leaders have to give him some face. When Lin Sicheng graduates, if he enters any company, couldn't he also provide protection for several years?

So, he cannot resign; at least not for these few years. But Lin Sicheng hates this the most; he used to get angry whenever it was mentioned.

He feigned contemplation: "The Contract is already signed, it's impossible to just resign like that. Let's talk about it after I'm discharged!"

Lin Sicheng sighed: Trying to use diversionary tactics on me, are you?

"If it doesn't work, push it onto me. Isn't it just being a Consultant? If I can't consult well, can't I consult poorly?"

The old man was amused: "Fine, you handle this afternoon's consultation first, then we'll talk!"

"Not just this time, but in the future as well. Anyway, push it off whenever you can."

"And quitting smoking, you promised, and my dad is the witness!"

Lin Zhangqing nodded and smiled.

After giving many long-winded instructions, Lin Sicheng stood up and looked at Lin Mingzhi again.

Forget it, his dad is truly unreliable; if he counts on him to supervise his grandfather, he'd be subverted in less than half a day.

Let's just leave it at that for now.

He shook his head and walked out of the ward.

Lin Mingzhi looked bewildered: "Wait... Dad, what did his head-shaking mean?"

Having a father but being unable to count on him, what else could it mean?

Lin Zhangqing didn't speak, but father and son share a heart; only a look was needed.

"Hey, this little brat?"

He cursed, then felt a bit worried, "Is it okay to let Cheng-wa help you with the appraisals?"

Why wouldn't it be?

If he wasn't sure before, but after staying in the hospital for a week, seeing Liu Meili, seeing Shang Yan, and hearing the rumors from fellow collectors about last weekend at Xiaodongmen, the old man no longer had half a doubt.

Ever since the ghost market started at Xiaodongmen in the eighties, he had been a regular visitor, and most of the collection in his house came from there.

After retirement, he was there even more often, so he knew roughly what good goods had entered the market and what items were on whose stall.

But that feather duster and that Tibetan Esoteric Buddhism Vajravarahi statue had been displayed for so long, yet he hadn't discovered them?

Especially the latter, with the Bashibawen script—this script had been lost for seven or eight hundred years, and even he didn't recognize it, so how did Lin Sicheng know it?

Thinking back to that scene at the Cultural Relics company two days ago: Uranium Yellow accelerating carbon atom decay to fool carbon-14. Depleted Uranium replacing the Glaze Layer crystals to release energy and fool Thermoluminescence... these were simply not knowledge found in books.

Including himself, he had only heard a little bit; where did Lin Sicheng learn this?

Just based on these two instances, Lin Zhangqing could basically determine that, not to mention experience and knowledge reserves, at least in terms of his eye for antiques, Lin Sicheng might not be inferior to him.

So, what was there to worry about?

Thinking back to what Shang Yan said: Professor Lin, I suspect Lin Sicheng is intentionally slacking off; in fact, he knows more than anyone and learns faster than anyone.

Looking at it now, isn't he indeed better at everything than anyone else?

It's just a bit hard to understand: being so rebellious, he couldn't possibly have rebelled his way into success, could he?

But then thinking of Lin Mingzhi: he is obedient, doing whatever his father tells him to do. But the result: he just drifts along, dawdles, and doesn't take anything to heart.

And he has plenty of excuses: my dad has already arranged everything for me, what else do I need to worry about?

Sighing, he tapped the head of the bed: "It's not convenient to keep taking taxis; tidy up your car and let Cheng-wa drive it."

"Then what will I drive?"

"You drive the Santana."

Wait... Cheng-wa is your eldest grandson, that's true, but I am still your son; are you really being this biased?

Lin Mingzhi lowered his eyes and muttered to himself, but didn't dare to make a sound.

Forget it, a Santana is a Santana.

If he dared to be stubborn again, he wouldn't even have a Santana to drive...

Taxis are indeed hard to hail; not only are they scarce, but they won't pick you up if the distance is too short.

After waiting for nearly twenty minutes and having three consecutive taxis refuse to take him, Lin Sicheng simply hailed an unlicensed cab. It took another ten-plus minutes of driving before he arrived at the Municipal Cultural Relics Exchange Center.

Although it was also a subordinate unit of the Municipal Cultural Relics Bureau with duties similar to the Cultural Relics Company, it had its own Folk Museum, so its rank was half a level higher and its scope was broader: it integrated the collection, trading, exhibition, and promotion of Cultural Relics into one.

With five minutes left before the appointed time, Lin Sicheng hurried upstairs.

Pushing open the door, he saw a dense crowd of people filling more than half of the conference room.

On the stage were the leaders, and the electronic screen behind them displayed the slogan: "National Day · Xijing City Folk Museum 'Sanqin Elegant Rhyme' Exhibition Preparatory Seminar."

Lin Sicheng glanced at it and quietly sat down at the very back.

But just as he sat down, a young person who looked like a secretary walked over: "Hello, which unit are you from?"

Lin Sicheng smiled: "I'm not from a unit; my grandfather is Lin Zhangqing, and he is hospitalized and cannot come!"

"Oh, are you here to attend the meeting on behalf of Professor Lin?" The secretary handed him a guest pass without a name written on it, "You should wear this first."

"Okay!"

Then, the secretary went up to the podium and whispered a few words into the ear of a female leader sitting in the center; the female leader raised her head and looked toward the back.

In front of her sat a nameplate: Lan Ling.

The secretary's voice must not have been low, as the people in the first two rows all turned their heads in unison.

Lin Sicheng unexpectedly saw a familiar face: Hao Jun from Rongbaozhai.

He then remembered that this man was also the Secretary-General of the Provincial Folk Art Association; for an exhibition preparatory meeting at a Folk Museum like today's, they really had to invite him.

Lin Sicheng smiled, and Hao Jun nodded slightly.