Chapter 303: If You Can't Explain It, Pay for It

Sunlight pierced through the gaps in the canopy, making the dust motes in the air clearly visible.

Tang Nan Yan followed quietly behind, observing Lin Sicheng's upright silhouette.

Although her previous impression of him had been profound, he had always felt distant and unreachable. Yet, after what had just happened, he suddenly felt much more vivid.

Gentle and polite, refined and elegant, he could crack a joke and was occasionally even a bit mischievous.

Because of her family background, she knew many talented people; some were capable, some had good personalities, some were humorous, and others were stern and taciturn. Of course, there was no shortage of empty-headed fops like Jing Zeyang who only knew how to eat, drink, and play.

It felt as though Lin Sicheng possessed all the virtues these people had: a calm spirit like an abyss, steady and reserved, deep-seated erudition, and a clear understanding of worldly affairs.

And he possessed what they lacked: skilled in both pen and sword, wise and courageous, daring to act and take responsibility, pressing forward with indomitable will...

Huh, thinking about it this way, hasn't he become a perfect man?

Tang Nan Yan's thoughts wandered aimlessly as she strolled along behind them. Lin Sicheng and Xu Qin walked and talked, mostly discussing matters related to the authentication of physical evidence.

Jing Zeyang and Fang Jin couldn't understand a word and had no interest in listening, so their four eyes darted around left and right.

"Brother Jing, look: a pre-Qin bronze beast horn cup... I've seen one before, the Shaanxi History Museum has one. Should we ask Teacher Lin?"

Jing Zeyang pointed at the stall owner: "Right, one at the Shaanxi History Museum, one with him!"

"That doesn't seem likely, does it?" Fang Jin froze. "That one at the Shaanxi History Museum was unearthed from the Wannian Mausoleum (Liu Bang's father's tomb, also known as the Han Taishanghuang Tomb), right?"

Jing Zeyang sighed: You know it can't be real, yet you still want to ask Lin Sicheng?

A waste of time.

"Let's go!"

"How about this one? It looks a bit like a Four Sheep Square Vessel." Fang Jin pointed at a small tripod. "It looks quite old, too."

After taking a careful look, Jing Zeyang couldn't help but shake his head: Old? What's old about it?

At the connection between the tripod and the leg, one could even see welding seams that hadn't been completely covered by the rust.

Jing Zeyang held back again and again, but finally couldn't resist: "Assistant Fang, I have a question that has been bothering me for several days. Would you mind if I asked it?"

"It's fine!" Fang Jin didn't care at all. "Ask away, Brother Jing."

"You graduated from the Xida Archaeology Department, right? Or were you a graduate student?"

"Yes!"

"Then, Assistant Fang, how did you graduate?"

Fang Jin froze, his face turning red.

It wasn't that he was angry: having hung out together for many days, the two were quite familiar with each other; if their relationship hadn't reached this point, Jing Zeyang wouldn't have been so direct.

Fang Jin felt a bit ashamed: a top student from the prestigious Northwest University, yet his eye for antiques wasn't even as good as Jing Zeyang, a layman.

He whispered like a mosquito: "The Archaeology Department doesn't test on authentication!"

"Don't mind it!" Jing Zeyang patted him on the shoulder. "I just wanted to remind you, if you aren't with Cousin Lin, never try to hunt for treasures."

"Teacher Lin says the same thing!" Fang Jin nodded vigorously. "Professor Wang is even more direct, saying that even a mountain of gold wouldn't be enough for me to lose!"

Tsk, it's good that he can listen to advice.

Jing Zeyang nodded to himself.

Just like that, the two looked around aimlessly, and as they walked, Jing Zeyang stopped in his tracks.

At the corner of the canopy sat a stall; it wasn't very large, nor was it particularly eye-catching.

The stall owner was a thin, gaunt middle-aged man wearing a faded gray old jacket, dozing off while leaning against a rattan trunk that was missing its handle.

On the stall cloth, various items were piled up: dust-covered copper coins, coarse porcelain bowls with dull glazes, and a few things that looked like silver hairpins.

Only a baby figurine in the corner was particularly conspicuous.

It was the size of a palm, entirely gleaming yellow, emitting a dazzling light. The overall design was that of a child lying on the ground, arms supporting its body, head held high.

The facial features were extremely clear: slender eyebrows, eyes looking upward, lips curled up. It seemed very happy, grinning with two deep dimples at the corners of its mouth.

After staring for a few moments, Jing Zeyang muttered to himself: "Does this thing feel quite real?"

Fang Jin nodded along: It really did look authentic, and it was clean, too. Unlike most antiques, which were either covered in rust or coated in grime.

Although it was bright, it didn't lack the patina that comes with age. It was clear that this item had been well-preserved, frequently cleaned and wiped, and often handled.

After looking some more, Jing Zeyang raised his voice a notch: "Boss... hey, wake up! What's the story with this thing?"

The stall owner opened his eyes and glanced at Jing Zeyang: "Porcelain base with gold plating, a Mohuoluo, from the Ming Dynasty!"

Jing Zeyang didn't hear clearly: "A what-luo?"

"A Mohuoluo, the ancient Guanyin, the one you pray to when seeking a child!"

The stall owner gestured. "A genuine old Ming Dynasty piece. Look at this porcelain quality, look at this condition—you can tell it came from the imperial palace. It has been bathed in incense and enjoyed the noble aura of the royal family. Not only can it bring you children, but it can also prosper your household and attract good fortune!"

Letting the boss ramble on, Jing Zeyang didn't take the bait.

Lin Sicheng had said: when browsing an antique street, never listen to the boss's bragging; the more he brags, the more problematic the item is.

You have to look for yourself and judge for yourself; even if a hundred things seem right, if there is just one thing you aren't sure about, don't buy it.

He squatted down and weighed the figurine in his hand.

It wasn't very heavy; it must be hollow. The gold plating had a slightly deep red hue, carrying the old patina unique to handed-down treasures.

It was indeed as the boss said: the porcelain quality was excellent, with no burrs, no impurities, and certainly no black spots. The craftsmanship was also superb, with rounded shapes, harmonious proportions, and lifelike expressions.

Whether it was from the Ming Dynasty or whether it had flowed out of the imperial palace, he didn't know. But Jing Zeyang felt that this thing was at least a hundred years old and was definitely not an object that could be made by a small folk workshop.

Of course, Jing Zeyang still had enough self-awareness to know his own limits; he was just taking the opportunity to train his eye.

Recalling something, he flipped the figurine over. After one more look, he paused: "Boss, why is the base so oily?"

"That's not oil, that's wax!" the boss explained with a smile. "I wax it every few days, otherwise how could it look so new?"

This was the first time Jing Zeyang had heard of this, and he looked surprised: "No, you wax perfectly good porcelain?"

The stall owner was smug: "You don't understand: this isn't just an ordinary old object; it's a deity statue invited from a temple. Shouldn't it be served with care?"

"It's too thick, I can't see the base material!" Jing Zeyang placed it back on the stall. "Wipe it off!"

To look at porcelain, first look at the base; this is common knowledge. The wax on the base was indeed a bit thick, but the boss didn't mind, taking a rag and wiping it twice.

Jing Zeyang pointed again: "Why is there a hole here?"

What hole, this is the navel of the porcelain.

One look and you can tell he's a layman...

With this thought, he wiped the wax in the center of the navel as well, and even carefully picked at it with his fingernail.

Placing it back on the stall, Jing Zeyang picked it up again. But it was useless; when it came to professional knowledge, he was not as good as Fang Jin.

Looking back, he saw Lin Sicheng nearby, discussing a problem with Xu Qin, so Jing Zeyang didn't stand on ceremony: "Cousin Lin, help me take a look!"

Knowing that he and Fang Jin were looking at items, as long as those two stopped, Lin Sicheng and Xu Qin would also stop. However, they had been discussing a problem, so he hadn't paid much attention to what the two were looking at.

Assuming it was just some object that caught their eye, Lin Sicheng took it over. But the moment it was in his hand, he was suddenly stunned.

Good heavens, Panjiayuan actually has this thing?

Knowing he was going to appraise it, Tang Nan Yan and Xu Qin also gathered around.

In order to leave a good impression on Lin Sicheng, Xu Qin certainly wouldn't express opinions randomly about things she didn't understand well, but Tang Nan Yan had no such reservations.

"This porcelain doll is quite lifelike, isn't it?" She looked at it twice, "It's just that the feeling is a bit strange!"

Lin Sicheng was interested: "Where is it strange?"

"I can't quite put my finger on it." Tang Nan Yan stared at the doll, "The feeling it gives people is, it seems, not very comfortable."

Lin Sicheng secretly praised her: As expected of someone who has been a soldier.

It sounds very mysterious, even a bit superstitious, but some special professions, when encountering some rather strange things, or entering some strange places, have intuition that is indeed more sensitive than ordinary people.

For example, soldiers, for example, Police, for example, true Daoist.

Even more so, temples, ancient shrines, or Dharma Artifact, or even Evil Artifact...

Thinking secretly, Lin Sicheng cradled the doll, his fingertips sliding over those strange Talisman.

The item was indeed good, definitely not a product of a small workshop, nor the handiwork of an ordinary Craftsman. The lines were rounded, the styling unique, and every arc exuded a strange, almost twisted sense of power.

At first glance, the child's smile was innocent, the patina was quite old, it had a strong sense of age, and it was indeed extremely similar to the Mohuoluo in historical records.

"Qianchun Suishiji" (Southern Song Dynasty): All decorated with carved wood and colorful frames, or using red gauze and green cages, or adorned with gold, pearls, ivory, and kingfisher feathers, or wrapped with colorful silk around the neck... offered to pray for offspring.

But looking closely, it faintly exuded a trace of primitive, barbaric ferocity. Especially those eyes, as if they had life, were quietly peering at the world.

After looking it over, Lin Sicheng lowered his eyelids, his gaze falling on those few strange Talisman.

After identifying them, he frowned: "Mohuoluo?"

"Of course it's a Mohuoluo!" the stall owner said confidently, "From the Ming Dynasty!"

"Heh~"

Lin Sicheng let out a laugh and flipped it over. The base was relatively white and fine, but the strange thing was, the navel was not the protruding nipple common in porcelain, but a hole slightly larger than a Needle prick.

I don't know if it was an illusion, but it felt like oil was seeping out of that hole.

It was indeed correct, Lin Sicheng reached forward: "Boss, come, take a sniff!"

What is there to smell about this thing?

Just as he was thinking this, an indescribable odor entered the boss's nasal cavity. At first sniff, it carried a few traces of sweet fishiness, as if it had been through much incense, the smell of incense candles having seeped into the porcelain body.

But the strange thing was, it seemed to be mixed with a few traces of rancid grease, and it was getting stronger and stronger.

"Ugh!" The boss stretched his neck, his stomach churning, almost vomiting on the spot.

Is this haunted?

He had acquired this thing nearly a year ago, and it had always been fine...

The boss covered his mouth: "This... what is this smell?"

"Do you really want to ask?" Lin Sicheng moved away a little, "If I tell you, you probably won't be able to sleep for a year!"

Nonsense, at worst it's a fake, at most lose some money. And for those doing business here, who hasn't been fooled?

The key is that this smell is too foul; the boss suspected, did this young man do something to it?

But the problem is, he had been watching from beginning to end, and the young man just held it in his hand and looked at it...

With this thought, he said decisively: "You tell me!"

"Corpse Oil!"

The boss's eyes popped out: "What thing?"

"Corpse Oil, and it's refined!" Lin Sicheng's expression was calm, "Have you ever eaten barbecue, the Korean kind: meat placed on an iron plate, sizzling with oil..."

It was not an exaggeration at all: including the boss, six people, the expressions of five of them changed in unison, their necks subconsciously stretched, looking like they were about to vomit immediately.

"My perfectly good antique, where would Corpse Oil come from?" The boss's face darkened, "If you aren't buying, don't talk nonsense!"

Lin Sicheng sighed: "Do you wipe it every day?"

Of course, not only wipe it, but wax it every few days, otherwise how could it be so shiny?

The boss nodded.

"Every day when you take it back, do you offer it up and light a few sticks of incense?"

The boss was stunned for a moment.

One was that he really believed in this, and two was that this thing really looked like it came from a temple; when he got it, the smell of incense candles was extremely strong. Fearing the smell would dissipate over time, he would take it home every day and smoke it with incense candles.

As he thought about it, he was just about to nod, but felt something was wrong: how did this young man know so clearly?

Sensing something was wrong, he snorted coldly: "What business is it of yours whether I light incense or not? Buy it if you want, if not, get lost!"

"Fine!" Lin Sicheng nodded and put the item back on the stall.

Fang Jin quickly handed over a wet wipe, and Lin Sicheng wiped his hands thoroughly.

At some point, a circle of people had gathered around the stall. Perhaps it was because this item was quite unique, or perhaps they were drawn over by Lin Sicheng's mention of "Corpse Oil."

It also couldn't be ruled out that they were drawn over by that trace of foul odor.

Although the smell wasn't strong, it was very strange, just like meat that had been frozen in a refrigerator for a long time and had gone bad after thawing.

"Why does it stink so much?"

"This young man says there is Corpse Oil inside this doll."

"What kind of oil?"

"He says it's refined from human flesh!"

"What a load of bullshit..."

"It's hard to say, doesn't Tibetan Buddhism always mess with all sorts of messy Dharma Artifacts?"

"Don't say that, looking at this design, it really does look like something Buddhist..."

The group of people chattered away, and the boss's face grew darker and darker.

He picked up the doll and took a look; his face was no longer black, but green: the oil stains around the navel he had picked open were even more obvious.

Moreover, it smelled worse than before; if he hadn't been holding his breath, he would have already vomited.

Seeing that these people were about to leave, he suddenly reacted and grabbed Jing Zeyang by the arm.

"Wait a minute... you want to leave after breaking my item?"

Jing Zeyang was stunned: "What did you say?"

"You broke my item..."

"Heh, trying to pull a scam, are you?"

Jing Zeyang sneered and was just about to start a fight when he was stopped by Lin Sicheng.

He smiled: "A boss who can do business here must be a reasonable person: you were the one who wiped the wax, and you were the one who picked open that hole, so what does it have to do with my friend?"

That was true; he had indeed only picked away a little bit of the wax from before. But the problem was, if that hole hadn't been picked open, how could his perfectly fine item start to stink?

Indeed, he had done it himself, but if this young man hadn't told him to wipe it, would he have been bored enough to wipe it?

What's more, if this pretty boy hadn't mentioned any Corpse Oil, how could he have attracted so many onlookers?

Word spreads from ten to a hundred, so how was he supposed to sell this item anymore?

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, and he reached out his hand: "You explain this clearly to me; if you can't give me a proper reason, you're paying for it!"

(End of chapter)