Chapter 363: Luckily You Didn't Go

Although she was older, Liu Yiling was very polite and kept a very humble posture.

With a smile on her face, she immediately took out her phone and exchanged numbers with Lin Sicheng.

"Junior Brother Lin, please give me your guidance in the future!"

"Senior Sister Liu, you are too polite!"

"I'm really not being polite. Master said: your foundation in calligraphy and painting appraisal is no worse than his—"

"Senior Sister Liu, you absolutely must not believe that. I suspect Director Sheng said that to Teacher's face. It was as if a knife were held to his throat; he had no choice but to say it—"

"Hahaha—Professor Wang wasn't there at the time!"

"It's about the same anyway—"

The two of them joked around, and the atmosphere was very harmonious.

Sun Qichen watched coldly from the sidelines, feeling bewildered: it was only their first meeting, so he didn't know where this familiarity from Senior Sister Liu came from.

He was much younger, though this was relative to Liu Yiling. But conversely, Sun Qichen was more reserved; he didn't say so many flattering words and only shook hands with Lin Sicheng.

He didn't take out his phone, nor did he offer his number; vaguely, a hint of curiosity showed in his eyes, and there was even a trace of disdain hidden within.

It seemed he couldn't quite figure it out: Senior Sister Liu, this kid is old enough to be your son, why are you sucking up to him like this?

Just because he is Professor Wang's student, and because Professor Wang's family background is extraordinary?

You would be better off sucking up to Professor Wang directly.

They worked in this line of business, and those sitting here today basically relied on their keen eyes to make a living. Although Sun Qichen's expression was subtle, it did not escape the eyes of several people.

Lin Sicheng was noncommittal, as indifferent as before. Sheng Guoan wanted to say something but stopped, finally just sighing.

He was to blame for this: Wang Qi Zhi had called him, saying Lin Sicheng had unearthed a few items and invited him over to take a look. It just so happened that Sun Qichen had come from Shanghai to Beijing on business and stopped by to visit him.

After hanging up the phone, he had casually praised him a few times: how young Lin Sicheng was, how good his eye was, and how high his appraisal level was.

Liu Yiling didn't care; having followed him for nearly twenty years, whatever her teacher said, Liu Yiling believed.

Furthermore, Liu Yiling had heard him mention that in the summer, Lin Sicheng had spent tens of thousands to pick up a "Congyun" seal of Qianlong.

One had to know, that was a super-large international auction, and it was at an auction held by the Xiling Seal Art Society, which specialized in gold and stone seals.

Anyone who understood a bit about antiques understood how incredible this was.

Naturally, when she met Lin Sicheng, Liu Yiling would be more cautious, trying her best to be humble and trying her best to be polite.

But Sun Qichen was different: he studied under a famous master, became famous at a young age, was arrogant, and looked down on everyone.

Also, because "Gate of Huayu" was popular nationwide, the influence of his teacher Liu Yan grew day by day, which caused Sun Qichen's status to rise with the tide, and his self-confidence inflated to the extreme.

It could be said: in his eyes, Liu Yan was first and he was second.

The key also lay in Lin Sicheng; although he had high technical skills and a good eye, it was limited to Xijing and Beijing, and even in Beijing, few knew him: besides the Forbidden City, there were only a few researchers from the Cultural Relics Research Institute and the Gongwang Mansion.

To be honest, the appraisal circle and the antique circle had never heard of this person, let alone Sun Qichen, who was far away in Shanghai.

Hearing Sheng Guoan praise Lin Sicheng like that, Sun Qichen inevitably compared himself and was even more suspicious: since he was so capable, why had he never heard of him before?

When he finally saw the person, he would self-righteously assume: only in his early twenties, even if he started learning appraisal from his mother's womb, how much of an eye or experience could he have?

The so-called "people lifting each other up in flowery sedan chairs"—nine times out of ten, it was because of Wang Qi Zhi, and they were just blowing smoke for each other.

Seeing his dismissive, secretly mocking appearance, Wang Qi Zhi curled his lips, revealing a cold sneer.

Dogs look down on people.

If it weren't for the several juniors present, he would have kicked him out right then—

After a round of pleasantries and sitting down again, Lin Sicheng introduced his friends to Sheng Guoan.

Hearing the words "Director of the Display Department of the Forbidden City," Tang Nanjin glanced over slightly.

He didn't understand Cultural Relics very well, nor was he interested in them, but he at least knew: what kind of person must one be to preside over the management of Cultural Relics in the Forbidden City?

To put it bluntly: it was entirely built up by technical expertise.

The key was that it felt quite interesting to see these people sitting together:

When speaking with Liu Yiling and Sun Qichen, Sheng Guoan would instinctively take on the air of a teacher, whether in his expression or his tone.

It could also be seen that this was not intentional, but subconscious.

But when speaking with Lin Sicheng, he was extremely casual. He was even more intimate and casual than when he was communicating with Wang Qi Zhi.

Looking at Wang Qi Zhi again, it felt even stranger: he asked Lin Sicheng more questions than Lin Sicheng asked him.

If one closed their eyes, one would 100% feel: the one asking the questions was the student, and the one answering was the teacher.

The strangest thing was the two people brought by Director Sheng: when the older female Expert spoke to Lin Sicheng, every word was filled with humility, even revealing some respect and amazement.

Looking at the other one: he was dismissive and scoffed.

Weren't they fellow disciples?

Just as he was feeling incredibly surprised, Zhao Xiuneng brought out the box.

It was still the same one as before, with the latch open; it must have just been taken out to be looked at.

Opening the lid, Zhao Xiuneng unwrapped the packaging and placed two scrolls and an ancient book on the table.

Wang Qi Zhi said slowly: "These items were picked up by Sicheng at Liulichang. He wasn't quite sure about them and asked me to take a look. To be honest, my eye for calligraphy, painting, and ancient books is only average, so I invited Senior Brother Sheng over to take a look—"

Upon hearing him say this, Sheng Guoan wanted to sigh again.

Wang Qi Zhi saying his eye for appraising calligraphy and painting was average was not being humble, because his foundation in calligraphy and painting was indeed very average.

But to say Lin Sicheng asked Wang Qi Zhi, his teacher, to appraise them because he wasn't sure—wasn't that a joke?

It was not an exaggeration at all; in Sheng Guoan's view: Wang Qi Zhi was a galaxy behind Lin Sicheng.

No, Old Wang was trying to set a trap—

Was it not as expected?

Wang Qi Zhi pushed them forward and looked at Liu Yiling and Sun Qichen: "When there is work to be done, the disciples should take the labor! Yiling, Qichen, you two take a look first, and by the way, give Lin Sicheng some pointers."

"Ah?" Liu Yiling was stunned for a moment, looked at Wang Qi Zhi, then looked at Lin Sicheng, as if saying: Professor Wang, you didn't make a mistake, did you?

Thinking to herself, she turned her head again and looked at the teacher.

Sheng Guoan was just about to say something, but Wang Qi Zhi narrowed his eyes, and Sheng Guoan could only swallow the words that had reached his lips.

Forget it, let it be—

He sat motionless, merely nodding: "Take a look!"

Liu Yiling only dared not move because she assumed Sheng Guoan's rules were too strict. But he was not her teacher, and Sun Qichen did not have that concern.

He smiled: "I wouldn't dare call it guidance; let's learn from each other!"

While speaking polite words, his hands were not slow at all; Sun Qichen unrolled the scroll in a few quick motions, looking quite like someone who would not yield to others and felt that the responsibility fell on him alone.

Just as it was spread out, Sun Qichen was slightly taken aback, and Liu Yiling was also stunned for a moment.

Several people leaned forward in unison.

When Zhao Xiuneng brought the item back, Ji Wangshu was on the phone with Ye Anning, so she did not yet know exactly what it was.

At this look: a colored Landscape Pattern painting.

But the strange thing was: the painting was bare; apart from the image itself, there was no inscription, no seal, no colophon, and certainly no signature.

However, the painting paper was quite old, and the roller was also quite old; the signs of natural oxidation were very obvious, and it did not look like it had been dug out of a tomb.

It was mounted quite well, and the painting was not bad either; at least it did not look like an imitation of an antique.

Sheng Guoan also stood up, but with just one glance, his brows furrowed.

Seeing him like this, Wang Qi Zhi became happy again: Is it that you think the painting is quite good and the item is quite old?

But why is there neither a name nor a seal left behind?

To tell the truth, it is right to be strange.

And do not think that because Sheng Guoan is the Director of the Exhibition Department of the Forbidden City and specializes in Calligraphy and Painting, and because the Forbidden City already houses similar works by Wang Lü, he would necessarily be able to recognize it. Moreover, those twenty-nine pieces in the Forbidden City and this painting on the table not only belong to the same subject matter but were also created at the same time, and even depict the same Huashan. Therefore, having no colophon or name seal is not really a problem for Sheng Guoan.

But first, one must clarify how many similar Cultural Relics are collected in the Forbidden City.

Just to give an estimate: in the Calligraphy and Painting category alone, there are over 156,000 pieces. To be generous, if Sheng Guoan looked at 100 pieces a day, he would only see 30,000-plus in a year. To see them all would take at least five years.

Come, try it: who can remember what a painting they saw five years ago looked like, what techniques were used, what the characteristics of the brushwork were, or what the style of the painting technique was?

This is not asking for advice; this is making things difficult for someone.

Therefore, as soon as he saw Sheng Guoan frown, Wang Qi Zhi knew that he had not recognized it, let alone remembered it.

But he could certainly conclude that this painting must be the work of a master.

In a flash, Sun Qichen had already put on gloves, not forgetting to invite Liu Yiling: "Senior Sister, together!"

Liu Yiling looked curious: "Junior Brother Lin, where did you pick this up, and how much did it cost?"

"Liulichang!" Lin Sicheng did not mention Daiyuexuan and handed over another pair of gloves, "500,000 in total!"

500,000?

Sun Qichen raised his eyelids and looked at Lin Sicheng: This kid is actually quite wealthy?

As for whether it is worth that much, one must look at it first before saying.

Thinking to himself, he leaned down and began to look carefully.

Liu Yiling followed closely behind; the two stood at the head and tail of the painting, fully focused and meticulous.

Fearing to disturb them, no one spoke, and everyone waited quietly.

After looking for about ten minutes, Sun Qichen was the first to straighten his back.

"The painting is alright, but it is overly focused on Imitating the Ancients during creation, and greedy for both quantity and completeness, leading to an excessive sense of the Craftsman, and it appears cluttered—"

""

He pointed at the painting again, "The rock faces imitate the Pima Texture of Dong Yuan of the Northern Song Dynasty and Ma Yuan of the Southern Song Dynasty, but they are too neat, lacking the harmony of 'scattered and overlapping like hemp,' and even more lacking the artistic charm of 'a continuous, vigorous line' from start to finish."

"Secondly, the side peaks at the foot of the mountain imitate the Axe Cut Texture of Li Sixun of the Tang Dynasty, but they are too dense, lacking the sturdy feeling of 'staccato twists and turns, like being chopped by a knife or axe'."

"The cloud clusters and piled stones imitate the Rolling Cloud Texture of Li Cheng of the Northern Song Dynasty, but the width and narrowness of the lines are unclear, the depth is blurred, and it fails to simulate the texture of surging clouds through changes in brush and ink, nor does it express the pale, moist texture of mountain rocks—"

"Furthermore, the paper quality is relatively ordinary: too brittle, too many cracks, and it is not well preserved, with too many wormholes. The ink is also not very good, the Glaze Layer aging is too obvious, and the ink brushstrokes have already faded to a whitish degree—additionally, the pigments are not good either, the mineral green looks blue, and the mineral blue looks black—"

After a slight pause, Sun Qichen smiled again: "Of course, the era is quite old, at least four or five hundred years!"

Hearing him go on and on, saying such a large amount, Liu Yiling could no longer continue looking.

She sighed secretly.

Although Sun Qichen was arrogant, he had the capital for his pride: of what he said, she could at most see half.

And that was the half with relatively lower technical content: such as the paper, the roller, as well as the ink and pigments.

As for the brush power, painting style, and artistic conception, she had only just begun to look, while Sun Qichen had already finished.

The so-called first impression is the strongest, and furthermore, his foundation was indeed higher than her own; even if she continued to look, she would likely only be repeating the wisdom of others—

Liu Yiling simply straightened her back.

Lin Sicheng was noncommittal and nodded slightly.

Wang Qi Zhi, however, would not let it go: "Who painted it, and which mountain is it?"

The three people were all stunned, with strange expressions: including Sun Qichen, Liu Yiling, and even more so Sheng Guoan.

No—Old Third Wang, look properly: let alone a name, there isn't even a single character on this; who could know who painted it?

And from ancient times to the present, as long as one is a painter, who doesn't know how to paint landscapes, who doesn't know how to use color? Just counting those with names, if not a hundred thousand, there are at least eighty or ninety thousand.

And China's mountains, if not millions, number in the hundreds of thousands; who knows which mountain is depicted in the painting?

This is like bringing in a woman one has never seen before, wrapped tightly from head to toe, with only one foot exposed, and asking them to guess how old this woman is, where she is from, how much she weighs, and how many children she has given birth to—

Therefore, this is no longer making things difficult for people; it is bullying them.

Sheng Guoan was both angry and amused: "You know!"

Wang Qi Zhi took it for granted and was just about to say "Of course I don't know, but Lin Sicheng knows," but when the words reached his lips, he rolled his eyes: "Then what is the approximate price?"

Sun Qichen said without hesitation: "Twenty or thirty thousand at the very most!"

Huh, it seems this ungrateful wretch still has some discernment?

Just now I heard Jing Zeyang say that the old master at Daiyuexuan also estimated it at twenty thousand.

Thinking to himself, Wang Qi Zhi rolled up the painting: "Let's look at the next one!"

Sheng Guoan was baffled, not knowing what he meant by asking such a sudden question.

Lin Sicheng, however, stopped mid-sentence.

Because his teacher's ability to appraise Calligraphy and Painting was truly only average, even much worse than his teacher's wife and his cousin Ye.

More importantly, he was anxious to see that Imperial Edict, and just kept urging Zhao Xiuneng to hurry up and send the items home, so he hadn't even managed to ask Lin Sicheng.

So up to this point, he only knew the author of this painting was Wang Lü, and he knew nothing about the creative background, the work's characteristics, its merits,

its flaws, its era, its value, and so on. If Sheng Guoan were to get to the bottom of it, he really wouldn't be able to answer.

Usually, of course, it wouldn't matter, but with so many juniors here today, he, Wang the Third, also cared about his reputation. Besides, the focus today wasn't this painting, but the next one—

Moving the Huashan Painting to the side, Wang Qi Zhi unwrapped another scroll.

It was much thicker; the previous one was at most the thickness of an egg, but this one was as thick as a human leg, yet extremely short.

The cloth cover slid off, revealing a colorful silk backing, and Wang Qi Zhi slowly unrolled it.

The sofa was big enough, and the coffee table was long enough, so the scroll could be spread out completely.

With just one look, six eyeballs popped out from three pairs of eyes.

Sheng Guoan squinted his eyes: What is this, a patent of nobility?

Looking at the name again: Wang Shu.

Anyone who knows a little history knows Wang Shu, and knows even better: "Twelve ministries in the two capitals, only one Wang Shu," and "Served in nineteen posts, embracing the frost for fifty autumns."

But the point isn't this, but this patent of nobility: the third year of Hongzhi?

Sheng Guoan tried hard to recall, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember any historical records stating that Wang Shu had been granted a patent of nobility in the third year of Hongzhi.

The key is this silk: white, yellow, red, black, and smoky—the first time seeing a five-colored patent silk?

Just as he was suspicious, Sun Qichen had a strange look on his face: "Junior Brother Lin, where did you dig this up?"

Lin Sicheng looked indifferent: "Liulichang!"

"Huh, when did you run to Beijing?" Sun Qichen leaned in closer, "I saw this patent of nobility back in June: at the spring auction of the Arts and Crafts, the starting price was 420,000—but no one raised their paddle, and it ended up failing to sell—"

Wang Qi Zhi was stunned for a moment, and Sheng Guoan was also stunned.

The Shanghai Arts and Crafts Auction House is not some small company, nor is it some fly-by-night company, but a proper state-owned auction institution founded by the Shanghai State-owned Assets Supervision and Administration Commission.

Although it cannot compare to Poly, China Guardian, or Xiling, it specializes in Calligraphy and Painting, ancient books, documents, seals, and other collections, and its professionalism, promotional capabilities, and client coverage are beyond doubt.

A first-rank four-scroll set, a patent of nobility for a famous Ming Dynasty official, and it only auctioned for 420,000?

The key is, it actually failed to sell?

Unless, it is fake to the point of being impossible to be any faker—

Seeing the group of people looking as if they had all been shocked, Sun Qichen let out a laugh, his expression very strange, and his tone even stranger: "The key is, it wasn't just this one company that auctioned it, but several, including Sotheby's and Christie's—but without exception, they all failed to sell! The reason is simple: in the history of the Ming Dynasty, there has never been any such thing as a five-colored patent of nobility—"

What the hell, Sotheby's, Christie's?

Sheng Guoan stood up, and just as he put on his gloves, he froze again.

"Wait, five-colored patent of nobility—I think I've heard of it? I remember now: this thing seems to have been auctioned in Beijing too—"

He tried hard to recall, "Guwancheng (an auction company under the Capital Tourism Group) auctioned it once, and Zhonggutao (an auction company under the Beijing Gongmei Group) also auctioned it once—it seems some Huachen company also auctioned it once—and they even sent me an invitation letter—"

Wang Qi Zhi was especially curious: "Then why didn't you go?"

"Whose Ming Dynasty patent of nobility is only worth a little over a million?" Sheng Guoan sighed, "So, the invitation letter was just sent to the guard room, and I had the security guard throw it away. If I had known it was Wang Shu's patent of nobility, I might have gone to take a look—"

"Meaning it's fake?"

Sheng Guoan didn't speak: Isn't that obvious?

From Shanghai to Beijing, so many companies have had it fail to sell; it can't be that all the collectors and all the bidders are blind, right?

But then again: regarding that auction at Xiling, leaving aside the seal of Qianlong, just speaking of that piece of calligraphy by Zheng Banqiao, and just speaking of that Squirrel Painting by Xu Gu, Lin Sicheng's eyes shouldn't be so bad as to reach this point, right?

Thinking secretly, he turned his head to look at Lin Sicheng, and just as he was about to ask, he suddenly froze again.

Lin Sicheng was actually grinning with his big teeth, as if he were saying: Director Sheng, it's a good thing you didn't go—

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