Chapter 295: Han-Style Flat Pot

"Thank you, Dean Zhang and Deputy Director Ma, for your trust, and thank you to all the experts for your support..."

"It is a great honor to stand here, to learn and progress together with all you teachers. I hope for your generous guidance..."

These were all platitudes, yet that did not hinder the experts' high enthusiasm, nor did it affect the thunderous applause in the venue.

Every time he spoke halfway through, his voice would be drowned out by applause, and Deputy Director Ma had to step in to save the situation. For every paragraph, Lin Sicheng had to take five or six attempts to finish speaking.

Jing Zeyang stared with wide eyes, as if he had seen a ghost: Had these people taken drugs, or had Lin Sicheng saved all of their lives?

Why were they all looking at him like they had seen a living Bodhisattva, with eyes practically glowing?

Fang Jin's face was flushed, feeling a sense of reflected glory.

Saving their lives might be an exaggeration, but it was enough for the three deans on stage and the dozens of experts in the room to hold Lin Sicheng in high regard and be filled with gratitude.

If not for Lin Sicheng, and if the Xida Cultural Relics Center had not developed the BTA Compound Project, then naturally, everything would be fine.

Because the Cultural Relics Research Institute was not the only one to accept the superior's commission and participate in the Metal Artifact Slow-Release Project research.

Many more participated through bidding; everyone stood on the same starting line, and the funding allocated by the superiors and the costs invested by each unit were roughly the same.

Even if progress was slow or results were not significant, it was not a big problem: because everyone was slow, not just one of them.

But suddenly, a Xida Research Center popped up, not only achieving breakthrough progress, but with results that were over a decade, or even several decades, ahead of them.

The key was that they were doing legitimate independent research, without asking the state for a single cent, and without any support from any superior unit or any authoritative institution.

To these teams that had received tens or hundreds of millions in funding, frequently invited the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences or the Chinese Academy of Sciences for guidance, and had almost gathered most of the experts in the field, it was like the sky had fallen.

What level are they, and what level are you?

How long did they take, and how long did you take?

How much did they invest, and how much did you invest?

What kind of results do they have, and what kind of results do you have?

Not comparing anything else, just comparing team configuration and cost investment:

A college student who hasn't even graduated yet, leading a few researchers who at most work as research assistants in other labs, using a campus-level laboratory, using only a fraction of your time and a fraction of your costs, researched results that are over a decade ahead of yours and hundreds of times greater?

You want to brush it off with a "nothing we can do" or "not as skilled as others"—what kind of wishful thinking is that?

Come, go to the Audit Department and explain one by one where all that time and money went.

If you don't check, everyone is fine; once you check, everything is a problem.

Not to mention anything else, just the sample consumables alone cost millions a year. If they audit the experimental data, they'll find a match every time.

Deputy Director Ma dared to swear that not a single cent had entered his private pocket.

If you want to shorten research time and reduce trial-and-error costs, you have to use good materials, preferably imported ones.

But what if the superiors don't approve it? There's no other way, so you can only keep fake accounts.

And it is definitely not just the Cultural Relics Research Institute doing this; basically, all research institutions do this.

And such a situation is merely one of the common and open unspoken rules existing in every research unit. Of course, it's fine if there's no audit, but once audited, it becomes a matter of principle.

For the Person in Charge to be stripped of their position would be the least of it; from top to bottom, the research team would absolutely not be able to escape.

Being an expert? Whether they can continue to earn a living in the future is a question.

But suddenly, the clouds parted and the sun shone through, and their luck turned: Lin Sicheng and Xida actually agreed to the request for joint research with the Cultural Relics Research Institute without the slightest hesitation.

Is their rice bowl saved?

Is their position also saved?

Audit? You try auditing one!

If the Audit Department dares to step through this door, believe it or not, I'll dare to slap the research results in your face?

Even more, the experts could already imagine that once the results were announced, countless praises and honors would come floating over like snowflakes.

Following that would be titles, bonuses... putting yourself in their shoes, who wouldn't be grateful?

It is no exaggeration: the speech, which was originally less than ten minutes, took Lin Sicheng nearly half an hour to deliver.

From beginning to end, the applause never stopped.

After the meeting, a group of people swarmed around Lin Sicheng and entered the laboratory.

Actually, there was nothing to guide: the full set of materials, including experimental processes, verification processes, application observations, and so on, had all been copied over.

One only needed to proceed step by step, following the plan. Even if a small problem occurred occasionally, one only needed to start over or work backward from the end of the experimental process, and it could basically be solved.

But whether it was the old Dean Zhang, Deputy Director Ma, or all the experts in the entire experimental team, they all felt: just in case, for the sake of safety, it was better to invite Lin Sicheng over.

They didn't ask Lin Sicheng to bring his whole team, just for him to come. They didn't ask him to stay in the lab every day, just that if any problem arose that the lab couldn't solve, or if they were at a loss, he could come at any time and provide guidance at any time.

He looked at each group, and Lin Sicheng nodded repeatedly: "The progress is very fast, and the data is very detailed!"

Deputy Director Ma sighed inwardly: If they couldn't even copy correctly while following the standard answer, everyone in this room, including himself, might as well just bang their heads against the wall and be done with it.

"There really are no big problems now, but as you know, Teacher Lin, experiments are sometimes very strange; the closer you get to the critical moment, the more weird things happen!"

Indeed, Lin Sicheng had deep personal experience with that.

Everything is correct—the standard samples are correct, the dosage is correct, the procedures and all kinds of data are as standard as can be—but the results produced are worlds apart.

Just when everyone thought something had gone wrong in some link, it would suddenly be correct again. It wasn't just strange; it was downright eerie.

The safest method was for Lin Sicheng to participate throughout the entire process, for him to be responsible for presiding over the experiments and research, and to solve problems as they arose.

But they were all seniors who had been famous for many years, so they still needed to maintain some dignity. Lin Sicheng was not prepared to stay here 24/7; at most, he would come over if there was a problem.

"Don't worry, Dean Ma, I'm not in a hurry to return to Xijing. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to stay long before having to come back again with the college leaders."

That's right, isn't it?

The research report had to be released before October 1st. Since it was a joint research project with Xida, the university and college leaders would certainly have to show their faces.

Lin Sicheng, as the actual person in charge of this project, would be even more indispensable.

"Thank you, Teacher Lin!" Deputy Director Ma breathed a sigh of relief. "Actually, you don't need to come every day; you can just come and check every few days. I've had the College Office arrange a car and assigned a driver. He is familiar with the roads; you can just give him instructions on where to go..."

"Alright, then I'll trouble you, Dean Ma!"

After a rough look, everything was normal, and the group saw Lin Sicheng downstairs.

So earnest and reluctant to part, it was as if he were leaving for good?

Lin Sicheng couldn't help but laugh, pointing at the Wenbo Building in the same courtyard: "It's just two steps away, one phone call, and I'll be there in two minutes. Even if I go out, I won't be leaving Beijing!"

The whole group burst into laughter.

After saying their goodbyes, Lin Sicheng returned to the hotel. Jing Zeyang followed behind, looking at Lin Sicheng's back as if looking at a mountain.

He had finally figured out what Lin Sicheng was here for: to guide experiments and lead research.

If it were before, oh no... even if it were this morning, if Lin Sicheng had said that, he would have laughed until he collapsed on the spot.

Cousin Lin, you've only been in Beijing for a few days, and you haven't learned anything good, but you've learned the Beijingers' habit of bragging to the heavens perfectly.

Even before the meeting, having seen how attentive the College Office director was to him in the restaurant, how close the old Dean was to him, and after seeing the ridiculously large office and the two young Assistants, if Lin Sicheng had said that, he still would have laughed until he sprayed.

Buddy, you just graduated from college, right?

Xida is only the second strongest archaeology school in the country by professional ranking, that's also correct, right?

And where is this place?

The most authoritative archaeological research institution in the country; if the Cultural Relics Research Institute says it's third, no one dares to say they are second.

The archaeology major at Peking University, ranked first in the country, would probably have to be ranked after the fifth or sixth spot.

Don't even talk about you; if it were Wang Sanshu, or the leaders of your college, would they dare to say they were coming to the Cultural Relics Research Institute to guide experiments and lead some archaeological research?

Listen, kid, stop dreaming, wash up and go to sleep.

But now, Jing Zeyang felt as if he were the one dreaming...

His mind was in turmoil, and he was dazed the whole way until Lin Sicheng spoke to someone, and he finally came back to his senses.

Looking up, a sturdy man like an iron tower stood before Lin Sicheng, his waist straight as a board, his face as if carved by a knife and axe showing a hint of awkwardness:

"Teacher Lin, please forgive me, the old Dean gave personal instructions: I must drive a good car for you, and even more so, protect you well."

"Old Squad Leader, you are being too serious, I really don't need protection. Really, this is truly a bit exaggerated!"

Old Squad Leader, protection?

Good heavens...

Jing Zeyang only then realized that the sturdy man wasn't actually old, only about thirty.

The key was this build, the key was this hairstyle...

He gasped: "Assistant Fang, is this... is this an Inner Guard (Armed Police) from the Cultural Relics Research Institute, transferred to be Lin Sicheng's bodyguard?"

Fang Jin was even more bewildered than him.

He did remember that when he first arrived at the Research Center, there were two Police officers who had been following Lin Sicheng.

But that was for a case...

Unable to refuse, he called the old Dean, and the old Dean was full of justifications: saying Lin Zhangqing had given instructions that his precious grandson had to be taken care of in Beijing, and he, surnamed Zhang, would be held responsible...

Lin Sicheng hung up the phone and sighed: "Then I'll trouble you, Old Squad Leader!"

A hint of a smile appeared on the stern face: "No trouble!"

As he said this, Lin Sicheng turned back: "Brother Jing, I plan to go out for a stroll, are you coming?"

Going, whoever doesn't go is a fool.

How many years had it been since he encountered such a rare thing?

Even if Ye Anning didn't give him a penny of benefit, he would still have to follow along to see and ponder it carefully.

Jing Zeyang nodded vigorously.

"Then Brother Jing, don't drive, let's take the Old Squad Leader's car and go to Panjiayuan!"

"Fine, anywhere is fine!"

Never mind Panjiayuan, going to Zhangjiajie would be fine too...

Thinking secretly, the four of them got into the business van. The car had already left the courtyard before Jing Zeyang reacted: "Wait a minute, Cousin Lin, where did you say we were going?"

"Panjiayuan! Doesn't the TV say, when you come to Beijing, you must 'climb the Great Wall', 'visit the Forbidden City', 'eat roast duck', and 'stroll through Panjiayuan'."

"That's all to fool foreigners!" Jing Zeyang curled his lip, "That place is just a market for fakes; more than half of the items aren't even as old as you and me!"

"Is that so?" Lin Sicheng smiled, "It's quite famous, I just thought I'd go take a look!"

To be precise: it should be that more than eighty percent of the items are forgeries.

Among them, thirty percent are Low Imitation: roughly, they are imitated to look similar, but have some flaws, which true experts and masters can spot at a glance.

The so-called National Treasure Gang mostly holds this kind in their hands.

Thirty percent are High Imitation: this kind of craftsmanship is relatively exquisite, using materials close to the era of the genuine article. For example, old porcelain clay, natural mineral pigments, old wood, old copper, etc.

They can even simulate the vessel shape, patterns, glaze color, patina, corrosion, etc., of the original, with relatively well-handled details and very few flaws.

This kind is specifically used to deceive insiders or quasi-experts whose eye isn't quite there yet.

There is another twenty percent that is Fine Imitation.

Like this kind, the materials used are not just close, but realistic: such as porcelain clay from specific mineral veins, glaze materials with specific ancient formulas, old wood from specific eras, alloys with ancient ratios, etc.

They might even "dismantle old pieces to patch new ones." For example, dismantling an old piece of furniture to make several similar ones, or using old porcelain shards for the base mark.

The craftsmanship can be called exquisite to the smallest detail: striving for perfect replication of every detail, and even more so pursuing the spirit of the genuine article. This includes wear, signs of use, naturally formed patina, corrosion, and so on.

This kind is specifically used to deceive experts.

Director Lu has been fooled, Institute Head Lu has been fooled, and even Geng Xiansheng, Mr. Xu, and Old Madam Wang have been fooled.

Of course, Lin Sicheng has also been fooled.

Excluding these, the remaining twenty percent or so are the genuine articles.

And Panjiayuan covers an area of nearly fifty thousand square meters, with nearly four thousand stalls selling Cultural Relics, calligraphy and paintings, the Four Treasures of the Study, porcelain, Jade, wooden furniture, silk, cloth, copper coins, ivory, horn, and so on and so forth.

If we count each stall conservatively, with three to four thousand items in stock and on sale, how much is four thousand stalls?

Almost every person in the country could be allotted one piece.

Calculate again, how many are there among the fakes that account for about eighty percent?

It is, without a doubt, the largest fake goods market in the world.

The key is that among these twenty percent of genuine items, fewer than one in ten can be called a treasure. Ninety percent of them are just ordinary daily necessities; apart from being a bit old, they basically have no value at all.

Therefore, when hunting for things here, a sharp eye is secondary; luck must come first. If your luck is bad, you could browse for a month and perhaps not even encounter one good item. Even if your eye for antiques is sharp, it is of no use at all.

In his past life, Lin Sicheng's longest record was three months: he browsed Panjiayuan for three consecutive months without spending a single cent.

With a secret sigh, the car arrived at the destination.

It lived up to its reputation as the most distinctive tourist attraction in Beijing: it was packed with people, a ceaseless flow. The moment one stepped inside, the wall of sound surged like a tide, instantly enveloping the eardrums.

The air was permeated with a unique scent—the smell of aged wood exuded over many years, the distinct ink fragrance of old books and paper, the metallic rust smell of oxidized Bronze, and even more so, the body odor steamed out by the crowded throngs of people.

The aisles crisscrossed like a maze, and the shops were packed as densely as fish scales, endless and infinite.

A bedsheet spread directly on the ground with various objects laid out upon it—that was a world of its own.

Newly unearthed pottery figures still had dried mud spots on their faces, looking for all the world like Raw Pit Goods. Fragments of porcelain from Ming and Qing Official Kilns gleamed on red velvet cloth, and the stall owner was spitting as he told a story: "Boss, look at this piece, it's genuinely from the personal collection of Emperor Kangxi."

At the neighboring stall, Jade was piled like a mountain, Imitating the Ancients Enamel shimmered with seven colors, and rust-covered Bronze locks, steelyards, and candlesticks were piled together at will, with bundles of Calligraphy and Painting scrolls leaning against the corner. Strings of Bodhi, beeswax, and Agate bracelets cast oily, lustrous light under the sun.

In an instant, a long-lost feeling surged into his heart, and an unusual brilliance appeared in Lin Sicheng's eyes.

In his previous life, he had misjudged things here, suffered losses, and been swindled even more. Of course, he had also picked up bargains and made a fortune.

In his thirties, being able to afford a storefront and open a shop in Beijing, and even more so, being able to set up a laboratory and a Restoration Center, a small half of the starting capital for all of this came from right here.

He came to browse whenever he had free time; during those eight years, apart from the Forbidden City, he had spent the most time here. He could call every shopkeeper in Panjiayuan by name. He could walk every aisle three times over with his eyes closed.

Therefore, the moment he arrived here, it felt like returning to his old home...

Seeing Lin Sicheng's eyes shining as if he had been stunned, Jing Zeyang curled his lip.

He wasn't curling his lip at Lin Sicheng: not to mention people from out of town, even foreigners who came here were left just as stunned.

With Jade all over the ground, ancient porcelain all over the ground, and old furniture that looked just like Red Sandalwood piled up like trash—it felt like entering a Treasury, didn't it?

Coming for the first time, curiosity and even shock were inevitable. Someone like Lin Sicheng was already considered quite restrained. At least he didn't dive right in, asking about this and that.

He was curling his lip at this place: don't ever doubt it, after walking through one aisle with dozens or hundreds of stalls, nine times out of ten you won't encounter a single genuine item.

Jing Zeyang did not doubt Lin Sicheng's professional ability: he studied archaeology and worked in archaeology, and could be treated like a treasure by the Cultural Relics Research Institute; his capability was self-evident.

But archaeology is one thing, and conducting research is another. The key is this place: it's not that they fear you don't understand, but that they fear you do understand, yet aren't the absolute top-tier kind.

Because laymen who come here mostly hold the mentality that "losing a little is earning," spending at most a thousand or eight hundred.

But once an expert comes, they can't help but feel an itch in their hands when they see a good item. Even if they are very cautious, if they miss this one, there are tens of thousands more behind it; there will always be one that can make you fall into a trap. Once you lose, it's tens of thousands or over a hundred thousand.

To put it bluntly: this hellhole is designed to trap experts; even Experts from the Forbidden City get fooled when they come here.

Jing Zeyang felt that, even if only for the sake of Wang Sanshu, he had to offer a reminder.

"Cousin Lin, don't get greedy!" He sighed with the air of an old hand, "There isn't just one or two old veterans who have stumbled here, and that includes Wang Sanshu."

Lin Sicheng suppressed a laugh: "Thanks, Brother Jing. Since we're here, let's look around first!"

"Right, since we're already here. If you see something you like, spend a thousand or eight hundred to buy one or two pieces, but that's enough."

Lin Sicheng nodded.

The air was mixed with dust, and the clamorous human voices were like a thick membrane. The four of them walked through the aisles, and Fang Jin's eyes scanned the stalls on both sides like a radar.

Lin Sicheng, on the contrary, was indifferent, often just casting a casual glance. But with just that glance, he had already seen seven or eight out of ten things on the stall.

The Jade was fried in oil, the Calligraphy and Painting were smoked with tobacco. The Bronze was doused in sulfuric acid. The copper coins were buried in the ground to rust.

It was all Low Imitation goods.

After browsing roughly ten or so stalls, Fang Jin suddenly paused, staring at a Blue and White Dragon Pattern Jar.

The boss had a goatee and wore a traditional jacket, his two eyeballs darting up and down. It only took a few glances to make a judgment: these four were not short on money.

The key was that they were all very young, which also meant they were willing to spend money.

His eyes lit up, and he hurriedly greeted them: "Gentlemen, feel free to look. I wouldn't dare say everything on my stall is a good item, but there are definitely plenty of old things. Especially these few pieces, just collected from the countryside, guaranteed old and guaranteed genuine..."

Fang Jin didn't respond.

Because before they came, Lin Sicheng had specifically instructed: don't listen to what the boss says, look for yourself. If he keeps chattering and tries hard to brag to you, then there's no doubt about it, that item is one hundred percent a fake.

Sure enough, seeing that he didn't take the bait, the boss shut his mouth in disappointment and brought over a few folding stools.

Lin Sicheng waved his hand: with him there, Fang Jin wouldn't be able to look for long before he had to ask, probably no more than two minutes.

Sure enough, after staring for a while, Fang Jin picked up the porcelain jar: "Teacher Lin, look!"

Lin Sicheng took it into his hands.

The jar was heavy, the vessel shape was thick, the glaze surface was smooth and warm, the blue and white was blue with a hint of gray, and it faintly shimmered with a trace of purple. At first glance, it really did have the look of a Great Qing Official Kiln piece.

But looking closer, reflecting it in the sun: the edges of the blue and white were angular, hardened as if cut by a knife, and the white space left behind varied in width.

Looking at the pattern: the dragon claws looked as if their joints had been removed, soft and bloated, like steamed buns.

Turning it over to look at the base: "Made in the Jiaqing Era of the Great Qing." It was standard Guange Style, but overly rigid. Scraping the base with a fingernail left a white mark on the edge.

This type belonged to High Imitation.

It used local materials from the mid-Qing period: Kaolin from Jingdezhen, and domestic Cobalt Material from the mid-to-late Qing, with an excessively high manganese content.

But the cost of imitating a Chai Kiln was too high, and the technology wasn't up to par; the temperature and atmosphere couldn't be controlled, so they used a modern gas kiln.

This caused the Cobalt Material to diffuse too deeply, reflecting purple misty rings under strong light. Furthermore, the light transmittance and refractive index were too high, which gave people that visual sense of the blue and white edges being overly rigid, as if carved by a knife or chopped by an axe.

But at the same time, because the temperature wasn't high enough, the base was not completely sintered, and the porcelain body lacked density, so if a fingernail scraped across it, it would leave a powdery layer.

After a rough look, Lin Sicheng put it back: "It's alright!"

Fang Jin immediately understood: the item was wrong. If it were right, Lin Sicheng would have let him ask for the price.

It wasn't just Fang Jin who understood; the stall owner understood too.

And in this line of work, the key is to observe facial expressions. He didn't ask what was wrong, nor did he argue, but instead pointed to another piece: "Boss, take a look at this one?"

Lin Sicheng took a glance and narrowed his eyes: A Wadang Pot by Shi Dabin?

Shi Dabin was a famous master of Purple Clay from the late Ming and early Qing dynasties; he is recorded in the tea studies masterpiece "Tea Commentary" by the famous Ming dynasty scholar Xu Cishu, as well as in "Autumn Garden Miscellaneous Trinkets" by the writer Chen Zhenhui, one of the Four Young Masters of the late Ming. Shi Dabin's Purple Clay Teapots are called "Shi Pottery" and are praised as the "best of sandware."

It is hard to say if he is the number one, but if one were to rank the famous Purple Clay masters of the Ming and Qing periods, Shi Dabin would definitely have no problem being in the top three. If a piece like this were to go to auction, it would fetch at least three or four million.

A real Shi teapot would not end up here; even if the boss had explosive luck and acquired one, it would not wait for Lin Sicheng to come along.

Therefore, this one is definitely a replica. But what is strange is that the workmanship is very refined, and the patina is also very mellow?

The craftsmanship is certainly not as unique as Shi Dabin's, and the age is not as old as the late Ming or early Qing, at most the late Qing or early Republican period.

But it is definitely not a modern replica, and it absolutely came from the hands of an expert.

As these thoughts turned in his mind, Lin Sicheng picked up the pot. After holding it and taking two looks, his heart stirred: It looks a bit like the craftsmanship of the "Yixing Shao Family," a family of sandware makers from the late Qing?

Looking closer, Lin Sicheng became even more certain: This should be a Han Bian Pot by Cheng Shouzhen, a disciple of Shao Youting, one of the Eight Great Masters of Purple Clay of the late Qing.

(End of chapter)