Chapter 23: The Mingyuan Pot

Chairman Ding flicked his sleeves and left, while the other experts wore varied expressions.

Whether he had a sharp eye was unclear, and whether his ability was strong was unknown, but this composure and his skill at being a passive-aggressive, needle-in-silk-floss person already possessed three-tenths of the flair of Lin Zhangqing.

That Director Guan patted Lin Sicheng on the shoulder, his eyes crinkling with a smile: "Not bad, young man!"

As for what was "not bad," Lin Sicheng did not know either.

After offering a few words of encouragement, Director Guan said he had to return to his unit, and he specifically greeted Hao Jun, saying that if he wasn't busy one of these days, he should invite him to the Appraisal Center to look at a few items.

Lin Sicheng realized belatedly: "Senior Brother Hao, are you a Consultant for the City Appraisal Center?"

"Mm, your grandfather is too, as is Chairman Zheng of the Folk Arts Association."

No wonder he knew so much about the case at the Cultural Relics Company while it was still under investigation?

"But you didn't mention it last time?"

How could he say it?

Should he say, "I suspect you, kid, of stealing Professor Lin's collection to sell, and I was preparing to secretly report you to your grandfather"?

Hao Jun gave a dry laugh and changed the subject: "Let's go."

"Not looking at the exhibits anymore?"

"There is still a month left; it won't be too late to look later. If you aren't busy, accompany me to Xicang to see something."

He wasn't busy, actually.

He had taken a week off, didn't need to go to school, and his dad was at the hospital.

Lin Sicheng nodded and followed Hao Jun out of the exhibition room: "How did that Chairman Ding provoke you?"

"He's provoked plenty of people!"

Hao Jun curled his lips: "His skills are mediocre, but his tone is huge: he often says the Academic School has stiffened their brains from studying, and they aren't even fit to tie the shoes of the Practical School."

The antique circle is full of the Five Flowers and Eight Gates, so Lin Sicheng was not surprised.

The Academic School that Hao Jun spoke of should refer to those who came from universities and had studied Cultural Relics Protection, archaeology, and related appraisal. For example, his grandfather, for example, Hao Jun, for example, Director Guan.

Of course, he counted as one too.

"So you were stirring the pot?"

"I would like to clash with him, but ever since he was taught a lesson by your grandfather, that coward has learned to be obedient; at most he's passive-aggressive, but he never takes a challenge head-on!"

Hao Jun patted his shoulder, "So, I'm counting on you from now on!"

So that was how his grandfather picked up the calligraphy scrolls of Yu Youren?

……

Hao Jun had a car, a brand-new Audi A4, and in less than half an hour, the two arrived at Xicang.

It used to be a national warehouse, then it was converted into a military district warehouse, and after the military warehouse relocated, it became the largest flower, bird, and fish market in Xijing City.

Flowers, birds, fish, insects, cats, dogs, rabbits, foxes, turtles, lizards, snakes, and frogs—everything was there.

At the same time, it was also the second-largest second-hand book and antique market in Xijing, second only to Xiaodongmen, but its history was even longer.

Of course, there were more fakes.

It was probably around the year 2000 when Ma Weidou went to Xijing to visit Chen Zhongshi, and old Chen took him to experience the local flavor of Chang'an; the first place they came to was Xicang West Lane.

As a result, they wandered from morning until dark, and at noon they only gnawed on a meat burger; old Ma failed to find a single item.

Afterward, he joked that he would rather walk through Panjiayuan than stroll through Xicang West, which shows its unique character.

Thinking this over to himself, Lin Sicheng followed Hao Jun into the market.

It was Thursday, market day, and it was very lively inside, with people coming and going, and strange calls rising and falling one after another.

The scent of flowers and the smell of damp earth, mixed with the messy odors secreted by various animals, snaked into his nasal cavity.

Perhaps because he had rhinitis, Hao Jun kept sneezing, and the two quickened their pace through North Lane to reach West Lane, which specialized in antiques.

Walking straight inside, they reached the middle section of the lane and entered a small shop.

It was very cramped, with a dim light bulb hanging from the ceiling, emitting a murky yellow glow.

There was no counter, and all four sides were filled with standing shelves, packed full of bottles and jars.

Looking closer, well, it was quite in line with the character of Xicang.

"Oh, Secretary-General Hao, a rare guest!"

The wind chime rang twice, a hoarse and slightly aged voice came over, and a figure sat up on a recliner in the back.

His features were thin, his eyes bright and piercing; judging by his appearance, he was only about forty years old, yet his head was full of silver hair.

Was it dyed?

Haha... even the person was fake?

Hao Jun got straight to the point: "Lao Song, is the pot still here?"

"Of course it is!" Lao Song looked at Lin Sicheng, "Didn't you say you were going to bring an expert?"

"I'm telling you he is an expert, do you believe it or not?" Hao Jun waved his hand, "Less chatter, hurry up and bring the item!"

"Good goods aren't afraid of waiting, what are you rushing for?"

Lao Song stood up slowly and went into the inner room. After a while, he came out holding a box.

Before he even reached them, Lin Sicheng smelled a scent of sandalwood, and when Lao Song opened the box, he narrowed his eyes to look: a Purple Clay Teapot?

The teapot was not large, wide at the top and narrow at the bottom, nearly three inches high, with a mouth no more than two inches, and the sandy texture was faintly visible.

The design was relatively simple, but the shape of the pot was handsome and upright, with clever and smooth curves.

The most critical part was the few lines of text inscribed on the body of the pot: "Drink and read, but not to a full belly. For Brother Yutong, Yuan."

There was also a Seal Mark in Seal Script: Chen Mingyuan.

Lin Sicheng's eyelids couldn't help but twitch: Good heavens, Chen Mingyuan's Chuanxiang Pot?

Who was Chen Mingyuan?

A master of purple clay from the early Qing Dynasty, hailed by Qianlong as "the finest vermilion clay from ancient times to the present."

Therefore, in the Qing Dynasty, a single Mingyuan Pot was already worth a thousand pieces of gold and hard to come by. As far as Lin Sicheng knew, there were no more than twenty recorded Mingyuan Pots in existence: one at the National Museum of China, one at the Shanghai Museum, one in Taiwan, and the rest in private collections.

After 2010, four were successively put up for auction, with the lowest-priced one selling for 22.8 million at the Xiling 15th Anniversary Grand Ceremony in 2019.

It certainly wouldn't be that high now, but if it fell below ten million, he would cut off his own head.

Secretly astonished, Lin Sicheng leaned in a little closer: "Senior Brother, how much is this pot?"

Hao Jun held up two fingers.

"Twenty million?"

"Are you even more unscrupulous than Lao Song?" Hao Jun drew a breath, "He only asked for two million!"

Two million to buy a Mingyuan Pot?

You couldn't even buy the spout for that.

Therefore, if this one were real, Lin Sicheng would likewise dare to cut off his own head.

But something was wrong?

As the General Manager of Rongbaozhai, how could Hao Jun not know how rare a Mingyuan Pot was and what its value should be?

Just as he was secretly suspicious, with a "zip" sound, Hao Jun opened his bag and shoved the Magnifying Glass and High-intensity Flashlight into his hands.

"Help me take a look, be careful!"

Lin Sicheng was stunned: "You want me to look?"

"I originally wanted to ask your grandfather to look, but isn't the timing off?"

"No... aren't there so many Experts at the venue today?"

Hao Jun shook his head: "You don't understand!"

Who says I don't understand?

In the Antique Trade, the practices of intercepting a deal or poaching a sale are very common. For example: you invite Zhang San to take a look, and Zhang San knows full well it's the real deal, yet he claims it's fake. Then he turns around and sends someone to buy the item.

Therefore, when encountering a good item, you either keep quiet or find an expert with a solid connection to appraise it.

What surprised Lin Sicheng was, where did this almost blind trust Hao Jun had in him come from?

"Don't blame me if you lose money!"

"You just check if it's real or fake first; whether to buy it or not is up to me!"

Lin Sicheng nodded and picked up the Magnifying Glass and Flashlight.

But as soon as the light shone on it, his eyes lit up: How strange?

This pot, it actually seems to be real?

Of course, it's not a Mingyuan Pot, but judging by the quality, it's at least from the mid-Qing!