Chapter 362: Regretting to the Guts

In the spacious lobby, a plaque with gold characters on a black background was particularly eye-catching: Shaguoju.

The walls were densely packed with bronze plaques, one right after another: China Time-Honored Brand, National Level Intangible Cultural Heritage, Beijing Key Cultural Relics Protection Unit, Demonstration Base for Productive Protection of Intangible Cultural Heritage, Beijing-style Cultural Landmark—

It wasn't even eleven o'clock yet, but the hall was already so crowded there was no room to step; the waiters darted back and forth, their shouts piercing through the crowd: "Pardon me, make way—soup, hot—"

The storefront of the central hall was fitted with glass, fogged over with thick white steam; dozens of clay pots jumped on the flames, with slices of white meat rolling in the clear broth.

On the other side, a dozen men in tall white hats stood in a row, a pig leg in one hand and a knife in the other, "whoosh," performing a knife flourish, and the meat slices drifted down like flying snow.

Don't ask if it's delicious; just ask if there are many people.

Lin Sicheng gave his name, and the waiter led them to the second floor.

The dishes had been ordered over the phone: one clay pot per person, plus white meat, large intestine, meatballs, air-dried meat, and a variety of side dishes.

They had only been seated for about ten minutes when all the dishes were served.

The shredded pickled cabbage was as crisp as spring bamboo shoots, the blood sausage as tender as tofu, and beads of oil floated in the broth, bubbling away.

Jing Zeyang was the most impatient; as soon as the pot was set steady, he snatched a piece of meat. Just as he brought it to his mouth, he was scalded and gave a start: "Fuck!"

"Don't know any manners at all, deserve to be scalded?"

Jing Zeyang was stunned for a moment: "Brother Yan, there are no elders here, who am I supposed to show manners to?"

Yan Wenjing was choked up for a moment.

Show manners to Lin Sicheng?

Just as Jing Zeyang said, they were all just buddies.

To Xu Qin? Even less reason—

Just as he was thinking this, Jing Zeyang gave a cheeky smile: "Forgot, there's still Tang Daniao—"

Before the second half of the sentence was out, something flew over.

Jing Zeyang was prepared and dodged quickly, "whoosh," the cabbage leaf flew straight toward Lin Sicheng beside him.

Lin Sicheng moved with lightning speed and caught it in his hand.

Tang Nanyan hurriedly smiled, then glared fiercely at Jing Zeyang.

"Stop messing around, eat!" Tang Nanjin pointed at the two of them, then smiled, "Sicheng, come, have a taste!"

Lin Sicheng smiled: "Brother Jin, don't be so formal!"

"Right, no formalities!"

Tang Nanjin said nothing more and picked up his chopsticks.

Lin Sicheng had been to this place many times in his past life. It wasn't because he loved the food so much, but because there were truly only a few places in Beijing that could be called gourmet.

It was still that same taste, quite good, and mainly the atmosphere was nice too. They were all young people, chatting and laughing.

Halfway through the meal, the phone rang again. Glancing at it, Lin Sicheng got up and left the private room, returning only after about three to five minutes.

Everyone just assumed it was one of his friends calling, and no one paid it any mind.

As they were about to leave, Lin Sicheng finally mentioned: "Brother Jin, Brother Yan, Brother Jing, the teacher has invited an Expert, who will be coming over later!"

So soon?

Tang Nanjin paused: "Where to?"

"At the teacher's house!"

Wang Sanshu's house?

"Is it okay for so many of us to go together?" Tang Nanjin looked left and right, "Should we ask Wang Sanshu?"

Lin Sicheng didn't understand: You already call him Wang Sanshu, what could be wrong with it?

Beijing was only so big; the old man of the Wang Clan was still alive, the friendships of the older generation hadn't faded, and the second and third generations still interacted normally. What was wrong with a few juniors visiting the house to see something new?

The teacher wasn't that standoffish, and certainly not that petty.

"No need to ask!" Lin Sicheng shook his head, "Even a whole platoon could fit!"

Really?

Assuming Lin Sicheng was just bragging, Tang Nanjin still gave Wang Qizhi a call. Knowing they were together, and that the three items had been acquired together, Wang Qizhi didn't hesitate at all.

Yan Wenjing didn't have time—even this meal was thanks to Lin Sicheng—and Xu Qin had even less time.

Only Tang Nanyan, through pestering and bowing, begged Tang Nanjin to help her ask for a half-day leave.

Yan Wenjing went to pay the bill, but Lin Sicheng stopped him, and the two argued for quite a while.

Taking advantage of the moment they were being polite to each other, Tang Nanjin lowered his voice: "Yan'er, you can go, but I'm warning you: don't cause any trouble."

3

Tang Nanyan argued righteously: "We're going to Wang Sanshu's house, not the Ye family's, what kind of trouble could I cause?"

You still want to go to the Ye family, and go with Lin Sicheng?

Instantly, Jing Zeyang's eyes widened, and he gave a thumbs-up in total admiration: "Daniao, you're amazing—"

Tang Nanjin slapped him away: "Don't listen to her nonsense; does she have the guts to go?"

"Pfft!" Tang Nanyan's eyes drifted, "What do I not have the guts for?"

Tang Nanjin said nothing more, just gave a "heh heh."

If you don't believe it, go ask around: in all of Beijing, which child of the courtyards dares to pat their chest and say they aren't intimidated when they see Second Sister Wang or Second Aunt Wang?

It's no exaggeration: don't look at how Tang Nanyan's mouth is as hard as steel now; when she actually sees them, she'll be as obedient as a pug and as timid as a rabbit.

The three of them whispered, and in a short while, Yan Wenjing snatched the bill.

Lin Sicheng couldn't win, so he could only do it next time.

After seeing Yan Wenjing and Xu Qin out, the four of them took Tang Nanjin's jeep straight to Guangqumen.

It was right on the East Second Ring Road, adjacent to the moat.

The sun was warm, the blue waves reflected the sky, and the wind slid down from the battlements, scattering thousands of shimmering shadows.

A group of old men and women were practicing Tai Chi on the riverbank; their ranks were like a formation of wild geese, their pushing palms like parting clouds.

The "humming" sound on the bluestone path was incessant; the diabolo spun in the air between cotton cords, rising in streaks of silver light. With a crisp "crack," the whip tip split the air and lashed onto a spinning top the size of a human head.

The car stopped outside the residential complex; Lin Sicheng swiped the access card and led the three of them inside.

He swiped the card to enter the elevator, and after exiting the elevator, Lin Sicheng took out his keys to open the door.

Tang Nanjin and Jing Zeyang exchanged a look: he had the access card, the elevator card, and even the keys?

Just how much trust did Wang Sanshu have in this student of his?

While they were secretly pondering, Lin Sicheng opened the door.

Ji Wangshu stood in the entryway with a smile: "Nanjin, Zeyang! Oh, Nan Yan has become even prettier—"

Tang Nanyan was exceptionally well-behaved, her mouth as sweet as if it had been smeared with honey: "Third Aunt is even prettier, growing younger as the days go by!"

Tang Nanjin curled his lip, and Jing Zeyang let out a "ha": weren't you so tough before you came?

In fact, Ji Wangshu was not many years older than Tang Nanyan, only about thirty-two or thirty-three.

If compared to Wang Qizhi, the gap was even smaller: Tang Nanjin was only two years younger than Wang Qizhi, and Yan Wenjing was even the same age as Wang Qizhi.

But that couldn't change the fact that Wang Qizhi's seniority was high—

Hearing the noise, Wang Qizhi and Zhao Xiuneng came out of the study, and there was another round of pleasantries.

There were four apartments per floor; Wang Qizhi had originally bought two and connected them, so the space was extremely spacious. Six or seven people sat down, and the sofa wasn't even half full.

Ji Wangshu wanted to go make tea, but was stopped by Lin Sicheng. Since his own friends had come, there was no reason to let an elder do the work.

Watching his practiced movements, knowing exactly where the tea leaves were, where the tea cups were, and where the cigarettes were, he was clear on everything.

Tang Nanjin and Jing Zeyang exchanged another look: it seemed he came here often, and stayed here often. The key was, he acted just as if he had returned to his own home?

Including Wang Qizhi and Ji Wangshu, they didn't have a shred of the normal teacher-student attitude toward Lin Sicheng; instead, they treated him like their own child.

After bustling about for a while, the tea was brought out, and Tang Nanyan looked left and right: "Third Aunt, where is Youjian?"

"In Xijing, isn't he?" Ji Wangshu blew on the tea leaves. "Doesn't he have to go to school?"

"Ah?" Tang Nanyan was stunned. "Then who is taking care of him, Ye Anning?"

The corner of her mouth just twitched, and the word "shout" had already reached the root of her tongue, but it was swallowed back down by Ji Wangshu.

It would be a miracle if Ye Anning didn't starve herself to death.

But these words couldn't be said here, especially not in front of Tang Nanyan.

Ji Wangshu took a sip, set down the tea cup, and said as if casually: "Dropped him off at Lin Sicheng's place, it's been almost a month!"

Dropped off?

Tang Nanyan was stunned for a moment, then looked at Lin Sicheng, who was unwrapping a pack of cigarettes and looking for a lighter: were the two families that close?

Jing Zeyang had a strange expression, but Tang Nanjin sighed inwardly: just a moment ago, when Lin Sicheng said there was no need to call Wang Sanshu, he really wasn't bragging.

It felt like he was even more casual and at ease here than he was in his own home.

While they were secretly pondering, the doorbell rang twice, and Lin Sicheng got up to open the door.

Behind the screen, they didn't know who had arrived, but they could hear voices, as if they were joking with Lin Sicheng.

Shortly after, three people entered, two men and one woman. The leader was older, in his early sixties, and full of vigor.

The other two were younger, the woman in her early forties and the man in his thirties.

Tang Nanjin didn't recognize them, and Tang Nanyan didn't either, but they knew these three must be the Experts Wang Sanshu had invited, just as Lin Sicheng had said.

Only Jing Zeyang blinked his eyes, staring at one of them.

Lin Sicheng led them in, and before they even arrived, a hearty laugh rang out: "Qi Zhi, it's not easy to get your door open; you have such a good house just sitting here gathering dust, don't you feel bad?"

"How about I sell it to you?"

"I don't want it, I couldn't afford it even if you gave me a seventy percent discount—"

The two were joking, and Wang Qizhi looked at the two behind him: "Yiling, Qichen, don't be formal, sit."

"Thank you, Professor Wang," the two thanked him, then bowed toward Ji Wangshu: "Senior Aunt!"

Lin Sicheng suddenly understood: these two must be the disciples of his teacher's wife's Senior Brother.

Just as he was guessing, Ji Wangshu introduced them from the center: "Come, let me introduce you. This is Lin Sicheng, Qi Zhi's student. Sicheng, this is your Senior Uncle Sheng's disciple, Xu Yiling, and this is your Senior Uncle Liu Yan's disciple, Sun Qichen—you two should exchange numbers and keep in touch in the future—"

Lin Sicheng nodded, and just as he took out his phone, he was suddenly stunned: wait, Teacher's wife, who did you say?

Knowing what he was surprised about, Ji Wangshu smiled: "Yes, that's right, the chief appraisal expert who is now famous all over the country on 'Gate of Huayu'—"

Lin Sicheng was taken aback, a strange look flashing in his eyes.

Haha, 'Gate of Huayu', Liu Yan?

No wonder the name sounded so familiar.

Lin Sicheng naturally knew Liu Yan, and he also knew that he was a top disciple of Mr. Liu Anda, a junior fellow apprentice of Director Sheng Guoan, and one of his teacher's wife's senior fellow apprentices.

But he had never imagined that one day, the two of them would have any interaction?

In 1983, Liu Yan was twenty-six years old and entered the Beijing Cultural Relics Bureau appraisal group. At the beginning, he only did some basic assistant work. For example, filling out forms and delivering documents.

Later, after he became familiar with the work, he apprenticed under the famous painter and appraiser, Mr. Ren Jiuan, who was the head of the Calligraphy and Painting group at the Forbidden City at the time.

Before Mr. Ren Jiuan passed away, he arranged for him to go to the Forbidden City, and later, he studied under Mr. Liu Anda and Mr. Wu Xingchang.

They were the two remaining titan-level experts in calligraphy, painting, and ancient porcelain, who were now nearly a hundred years old.

Year after year, Liu Yan worked successively in institutions such as the Forbidden City, the Beijing Cultural Relics Store, the Capital Museum, and the National Cultural Heritage Administration, his credentials becoming increasingly prestigious.

As for technique, ability, and eye for detail, he certainly had them, and to a very high degree. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to enter the Forbidden City, let alone the National Treasure Retrieval Team organized and led by the National Cultural Heritage Administration, and it would have been even more impossible for him to serve as the chief appraisal expert on the now-popular 'Gate of Huayu'.

Not to mention that after apprenticing under so many famous masters, he had been built up by experience.

It was a pity that he eventually stumbled over a genuine work of Qianlong, the 'Songyang Han Cypress Painting'.

The process was not complicated: it was probably next autumn, when 'Gate of Huayu' was collecting Cultural Relics in Henan, and a pair of brothers brought their family heirloom, the genuine Qianlong 'Songyang Han Cypress Painting', to participate in the appraisal event.

After appearing on the show, Liu Yan looked at the painting and said he wasn't quite sure about it, asking the brothers to come to the hotel in the evening to discuss it further.

Upon arriving, Liu Yan spoke bluntly: "This piece is a replica, not an authentic work by Qianlong, but it is an antique imitation, so it is worth a little something, maybe thirty or forty thousand."

However, he knew quite a few collectors, and even more wealthy people, so he could help the two brothers introduce it and ask for a bit more.

The two brothers discussed it and agreed to Liu Yan's suggestion.

About a month later, Liu Yan brought a buyer, who finally paid 170,000 to purchase the painting. The two brothers were extremely grateful and originally wanted to give Liu Yan a commission, but Liu Yan refused.

And so, this matter was considered settled.

It wasn't until two years later, in 2011, that the two brothers were watching television and suddenly discovered that the Imperial Brush "Songyang Han Cypress Painting" by Qianlong they had sold had actually fetched a sky-high price of 87.36 million at the Poly Auction autumn auction half a year prior?

Only then did they realize they had been swindled.

The two brothers immediately reported it to the police, then looked for people to find Liu Yan, while simultaneously preparing to file a lawsuit.

And guess what happened?

The public security department found two Liu Yans: one with a Beijing household registration, a nationally renowned Expert in appraisal. The other was a Hong Kong resident engaged in the antique business.

The eerie part was that both men had the exact same face.

Unsurprisingly, the lawsuit was lost, but it had nothing to do with the real or fake Liu Yan.

The reason was even simpler: back then, Liu Yan had signed a Contract with the two brothers; he was only responsible for the introduction and assumed no guarantee liability. Regardless of whether the painting was real or fake, or how much it sold for, it had nothing to do with him. Because he was helping purely out of obligation and did not collect a single cent.

Therefore, if the two brothers wanted to sue him, they had to first find the buyer and retrieve that painting.

But the buyer claimed: he had long since sold the painting abroad, and even sold it at a loss; in any case, it was impossible to get it back.

The two brothers tried every possible method and contacted the person who had spent over 80 million to buy the painting, but that person was even more direct: "What does my 80-million-plus authentic Qianlong work have to do with your 170,000 replica?"

Thus, the two brothers had no way to prove that the one they sold for 170,000 was the same one that Poly auctioned for over 80 million. Never mind the Zhengzhou Intermediate Court; even if this lawsuit were taken to the United Nations, the two brothers would still not win.

The two brothers could only swallow their bitterness.

After that, Liu Yan faded from the antique and appraisal circles and gradually disappeared from the news. Insiders claimed: he was living in seclusion abroad.

As the saying goes, the benevolent see benevolence and the wise see wisdom; at first glance, 80 million is more than one could spend in several lifetimes.

But if Lin Sicheng were to evaluate it, he would only chuckle.

He had never seen that painting and didn't know if it was real or fake, but he at least knew: even if it were truly an Imperial Brush by Qianlong, it couldn't possibly sell for 80 million, could it?

One could figure it out just by thinking: how much does an Imperial Seal of Emperor Qianlong even sell for?

Never mind 80 million; even dividing that by ten and cutting it in half would be a stretch. It was nothing more than speculators and the auction house colluding to launder the item—

Then again: a nationally renowned, household-name top-tier Expert, just for a mere few million, threw away his entire career?

He didn't even dare to return to the country: fearing that one day, two burly men might suddenly rush into his home and stab him—

So, this Expert Liu's guts are likely green with regret—