Chapter 366

Sheng Guoan's eyelids twitched slightly, and he turned to pick up the scroll on the square table.

Wang Qi Zhi and Zhao Xiuneng knew it clearly, and they exchanged a smile.

Liu Yiling knew her teacher's habits and guessed that Sheng Guoan must have discovered something amiss.

Only Sun Qichen was completely confused and didn't understand: hadn't this painting already been looked at just now?

Amidst his surprise, the painting was spread out again, and Sheng Guoan leaned down, inch by inch.

At the same time, Sun Qichen's evaluation surfaced in his mind: overly pursuing imitation of the ancients, greedy for quantity and completeness, too much of a Craftsman's air, and appearing cluttered—

The Pima Texture was too neat, lacking the sense of hemp being spread out and scattered in overlapping layers, and even more lacking the rhythmic charm of a single continuous, vigorous line.

The Axe Cut Texture was too dense, lacking the staccato, twisting, and rugged feel of being chopped by a knife or axe. The lines for the rolling clouds and accumulated stones were unclear in width and blurred in depth; the brush and ink had not simulated the textured form of surging clouds, nor had they expressed the aged, moist quality of the mountain rocks—

When Sun Qichen said these things, Sheng Guoan actually didn't quite agree: as the saying goes, a thousand teachers teach a thousand methods, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder. The same teacher and the same painting techniques, when taught to different disciples, will inevitably form different personal styles.

Painting can follow ancient methods, but it does not need to be rigid; on the contrary, one must combine one's own strengths to compensate for weaknesses and highlight unique features.

The one before his eyes was exactly this: it was not that the author was greedy for quantity and completeness and learned a bit of everything without mastering anything, but rather that after following ancient methods, the author had boldly innovated.

Therefore, not only was it not "too much of a Craftsman's air" as Sun Qichen said, but on the contrary, the author was at least a famous master of his generation. Otherwise, if one hadn't even finished learning the basics, how would one dare to innovate?

It was just because Sun Qichen's experience was a bit lacking compared to his own, and secondly, Sun Qichen specialized in appraisal and basically didn't paint, so his understanding and experience of painting techniques were shallower and poorer.

However, there were too many people, and it wouldn't be good to make his grand-disciple lose face in front of everyone. Furthermore, it was just an anonymous work; even if he had him appraise it again, it would only be twenty or thirty thousand higher than Sun Qichen's valuation, so Sheng Guoan didn't say anything.

But looking at it now, wasn't it as expected?

The granite indeed used the Pima Texture, but what Wang Lü expressed was not the diagonal cracks of granite, but the texture of the mountain rocks themselves.

The former is steep and abrupt, craggy and strange, naturally disordered and overlapping. The latter is natural and heaven-sent, with the mountain's bones standing tall; how could it not be neat?

Strictly speaking, this was no longer the Axe Cut Texture of the Song imitation, but the "Stone Grain Texture" after Wang Lü's variation and innovation.

Looking again at the side peaks at the foot of the mountain, the Axe Cut Texture was indeed used, and it was indeed too dense, but what Wang Lü painted was not a stone wall, but weathered and fractured loose rocks: first using the Axe Cut Texture, and then borrowing the "flying water splash" brushwork unique to the *Waterfall Painting* to present the scene of rocks crumbling and flying.

This type of texture was pioneered by Wang Lü, and later painters even gave it a new name: Broken Stone Point.

The reason Sun Qichen didn't recognize it was because this technique is extremely difficult to learn, and very few painters have this level of skill. No one uses it, and he hadn't seen it much, so of course he didn't recognize it.

Looking again at the clouds and accumulated stones, it was still following ancient methods with innovative techniques: at first glance, it seemed like the Rolling Cloud Texture, but in reality, it was clouds and mist drawn using the "Trembling Brush Broken Line Method." Therefore, it was not that the width was unclear or the depth was blurred, but that Wang Lü intentionally used light ink to dye the clouds and pile them up, simulating the feeling of "clouds like cotton pressing down on the mountain top."

Therefore, what Sun Qichen said were not shortcomings, but strengths.

The key was these three peaks.

As long as one studies painting, even if one hasn't been to Shaanxi, one knows roughly what Huashan looks like.

Because too many painters have painted it.

What's more, Sheng Guoan not only paints but also performs Painting Appraisal. Even more so, the Forbidden City houses twenty-nine paintings of the same type, created at the same time, and on the same subject as Wang Lü's *Huashan Painting*.

Because he had seen too many paintings and had even more painters in his mind, it was understandable that Sheng Guoan couldn't recall it before.

But with Lin Sicheng and Wang Qi Zhi's reminders being so obvious, if he still couldn't recall it, he would have wasted half a lifetime studying Chinese painting and appraisal.

Looking at the paper again, it was Jingyang North Xuan Paper.

Looking at the ink again, it was Yan'an Prefecture Crimson Flame Ink.

Looking at the pigments again: Tongguan Stone Blue, Lantian Stone Green, Shangnan Cinnabar.

All were produced locally in Shaanxi; of course, they couldn't compare to the Imperial Tribute of Beijing.

And whether it was the aging degree of the paper or the decomposition traces of the ink and pigments, they were exactly the same as those twenty-nine in the Forbidden City.

The key was the composition: the South Peak of Huashan, one peak with three summits: Luoyan, Song Hui, and Xiaozi.

There were also Dongliujian, Yangtian Pool, and the South Heaven Gate, and the scale was so large?

If this wasn't the main painting of Wang Lü's seventy-two *Huashan Painting* series, Sheng Guoan would dare to chew the painting and eat it.

He sighed and looked up: "Has Sicheng also studied painting?"

Should I say I have studied it, or haven't?

If I hadn't studied painting, how could I appraise it, and how would I have recognized that this painting was by Wang Lü?

Lin Sicheng thought for a moment and nodded: "I have!"

"Studied under which famous master?"

Lin Sicheng was stunned and glanced at Sheng Guoan: I can't exactly say I learned it from you in my past life, can I?

Even if I dared to say it, would you dare to believe it?

Then it was self-taught?

That's complete nonsense: Zhao Xiuneng and Wang Qi Zhi were standing right there. Although they might not know about him wetting the bed when he was a child, they knew the general trajectory of his life from childhood to adulthood very clearly.

He hadn't even signed up for an interest class, so how could he be self-taught?

In a flash of thought, he forced a smile: "It was a friend of my grandfather, a Chinese painting professor at the Shaanxi Painting Academy, not very famous."

After a slight pause, Lin Sicheng added a patch: "Of course, the teaching was quite solid, and it's completely sufficient for assisting in appraisal!"

That was indeed the logic.

Sheng Guoan didn't doubt it and sighed again: "Bring everything along, bring the books, and bring this painting too; we'll compare them when we get there."

"Thank you, Director Sheng!"

After a polite remark, Lin Sicheng rolled up the painting again.

Liu Yiling was right on the side, blinking her eyes, feeling exceptionally curious.

She could guess that there must be something tricky about this painting that her teacher had spotted. But she couldn't figure it out: if it were as Sun Qichen said, with too much Craftsman's air and messy techniques, only worth twenty or thirty thousand, then what was the need to take it to the Forbidden City and specifically make a comparison?

Seeing what she was thinking, Sheng Guoan explained: "I misjudged it before; this should be Wang Lü's *Huashan Painting* from the early Ming Dynasty, and it's the main painting!"

What the heck, Wang Lü's *Huashan Painting*?

Liu Yiling was suddenly startled: didn't he say before that the painting was just average?

Her appraisal skills were learned from Sheng Guoan at the Forbidden City, so of course, she had seen the *Huashan Painting*.

Although her impression wasn't deep, Liu Yiling at least knew the artistic value of Wang Lü's *Huashan Painting* from the Ming Dynasty.

Although it had never entered the *Shiqu Baoji*, and certainly never entered Qianlong's Sanxitang, being collected by two generations of the Imperial Household Department was already enough to surpass the vast majority of so-called folk masters.

Furthermore, more than one old Expert has said: The *Huashan Painting* did not enter the *Shiqu Baoji* not because the painting was not good, but because of Qianlong's lack of artistic attainment and appraisal ability.

To put it bluntly: He only saw that Wang Lü followed ancient methods, but failed to see the bold innovations in Wang Lü's techniques.

Just like Sun Qichen beside him.

What's more, this is the main painting of the *Huashan Painting*? This painting alone is worth more than two five-hundred-thousands—

Subconsciously, Liu Yiling recalled the words her teacher said during the summer: This kid is extraordinary; at twenty-something years old, his appraisal foundation is not even inferior to mine—

While thinking to herself, she stared straight at Lin Sicheng, then, as if possessed, turned her head to look at Sun Qichen beside her.

In his thirties, he is in his prime, not bad-looking, and with a successful career and smooth sailing, he is naturally full of vigor and high spirits.

But at this moment, he is like a rooster that lost a fight: clearly his clothes are still neat and still bright and clean, yet it is as if all his spirit and energy have been drained, his whole body exuding an indescribable powerlessness and exhaustion.

When Sheng Guoan spread out the scroll again, Sun Qichen was still wondering: Since there is already a conclusion, what is the need to look at it again?

When Sheng Guoan was careful and meticulous, almost inch by inch, Sun Qichen finally realized something was wrong: This painting, is there a problem?

But how did Sheng Guoan know something was wrong?

He suddenly remembered that Medical Book, and the last few sentences of the conversation between Sheng Guoan and Lin Sicheng: "Sicheng, which Wang Lü are you talking about?"

"The Wang Lü who was a Ming Dynasty painter, poet, and physician!"

At that moment, Sun Qichen suddenly remembered Wang Qi Zhi's earlier remark, which was almost like a joke: Who painted it, and which mountain is it?

Looking at the painting again, Sun Qichen felt as if he had received a flash of inspiration.

Then, the blood drained from his face bit by bit, and an indescribable shock and regret welled up in his heart.

He currently works at the Shanghai History Museum, but before that, he worked at the Shanghai Museum for five years.

Moreover, he is a member of the Calligraphy and Painting group of the Shanghai Cultural Relics Appraisal Committee. Although he did not participate in the appraisal of Wang Lü's *Huashan Painting*, he has seen those eleven paintings on display more than once.

Having seen them many times, he would have some impression, more or less. Compared to the one in front of him, what is the difference?

The paper quality is relatively ordinary, too brittle, with too many cracks and even more wormholes. The ink is also poor, with obvious aging and the ink marks turning white. The pigments are even worse, the mineral green turning blue, the mineral blue turning black—

And the techniques: the Pima Texture is too neat, the Axe Cut Texture is too dense, the Rolling Cloud Texture has unclear lines and blurred depth—

Looking again at the scale of this painting and the three peaks in the picture? If this is not the main painting, he would dare to chew it up and eat it.

Being collected by two generations of the Ming Dynasty Imperial Household Department, even if it were just a blank sheet of paper, its value would immediately increase thousands or tens of thousands of times. Not to mention, Wang Lü's works already have extremely high artistic standing. Otherwise, the Shanghai Museum would not have paid a high price to collect the remaining eleven pieces.

Then what if it is the main painting?

And compared to that, what makes Sun Qichen feel even worse is his previous appraisal result: the Craftsman spirit is too heavy, the painting is only average, and it is only worth twenty or thirty thousand—

Twenty or thirty thousand—hehe, how about multiplying it by ten?

And what he finds most unacceptable is Lin Sicheng's composure and calmness when hearing those words.

Putting himself in his shoes, was Lin Sicheng thinking at the time: With this level of discernment, he is still a well-known Calligraphy and Painting Appraiser in Shanghai, and a protégé of a nationally renowned appraisal Expert?

After studying for so many years, did he study it into a dog?

But that is not right.

Even Sheng Guoan didn't see that this was a work by Wang Lü, so where did he get such high discernment?

Sun Qichen can guarantee that even if it were given to his teacher Liu Yan, he definitely wouldn't be able to tell.

For a moment, Sun Qichen was both angry and anxious, both jealous and suspicious. His lips trembled, and just as he was about to say something, Sheng Guoan squinted his eyes and glanced at him.

A light flashed through the narrow slits of his eyes, full of warning, as if saying: Watch your mouth, don't lose face for your teacher—

Sun Qichen froze, his face turning green and then white—

If he stayed any longer, he might make a fool of himself, so Sheng Guoan stood up: "Let's go!"

Wang Qi Zhi was stunned and hurriedly tried to stop him: "Don't, we've been busy for so long, shouldn't we have a meal?"

As he spoke, he gave Lin Sicheng a wink.

But Lin Sicheng didn't speak: Looking at Sun Qichen's expression, he was afraid this person would break down at any moment.

He can understand: famous at a young age, young and vigorous, yet in his most proficient field, being rubbed on the ground by an unknown junior who hasn't even grown his hair, it is normal to have a mental breakdown.

But he does not agree: If you don't even have this bit of psychological quality, what kind of appraisal are you doing?

Lin Sicheng can also understand why Sheng Guoan is in such a hurry to leave: he brought the person, and even if Sun Qichen didn't make a scene, if he suddenly got hot-headed and said something unpleasant, it wouldn't look good on Sheng Guoan or Wang Qi Zhi.

At the same time, it is not just because Sun Qichen is Liu Yan's disciple, but because Sheng Guoan does not want to create an enemy for Lin Sicheng for no reason.

Lin Sicheng knew it well, stood up and smiled: "Director Sheng, I will visit you specially another day!"

Sheng Guoan glared at him: "Lin Sicheng, stop with the 'specially,' how long have you been saying that?"

"Didn't some accidents happen? I promise, this time for sure—"

Liu Yiling remained enthusiastic and polite, but Sun Qichen was dazed, as if he had lost his soul.

When he finally shook hands with Lin Sicheng, his eyes drifted, and he actually dared not look Lin Sicheng in the eye.

After seeing them out the door, Tang Nanjin, Jing Zeyang, and Tang Nan Yan also offered their farewells, and Lin Sicheng personally saw them downstairs.

Lin Sicheng also made an appointment, saying that he should come to Beijing during the Chinese New Year, and they would gather then—

After seeing them into the jeep, Lin Sicheng turned and went upstairs. He started the engine and let it warm up for a while.

The three of them sat in the car, just staring at Lin Sicheng's back, and no one spoke. Including Jing Zeyang, who is usually the most talkative and loves to make a scene.

The atmosphere was slightly eerie.

After almost a minute, the sound of the engine suddenly dropped, and the few of them woke up as if from a dream.

Suddenly, Jing Zeyang's eyebrows and eyes scrunched together, his face twisted: "That Imperial Edict, it was actually real?"

Tang Nanjin's lips twitched, wanting to say something, but in the end, she just sighed.

It is not that she didn't know Lin Sicheng could appraise, and she also knew he had picked up leaks, but reading files and data, how could it be as profound as following along and seeing it with her own eyes?

Think about what that Director Sheng said: The Medical Book alone was enough for Lin Sicheng to break even. It meant the two items that followed were all free.

That painting might be one thing; no matter how famous the master is, or how it was collected by the Forbidden City, it is only worth one or two million. But that last item, it was an Imperial Edict?

A conservative estimate: five million, six million, or perhaps seven or eight million, or even up to ten million?

And Lin Sicheng had only spent such a short moment—

After thinking for a long time, he sighed despondently, then turned his head back to look at Tang Nan Yan in the backseat.

But before he could even open his mouth, Tang Nan Yan locked her brows and narrowed her eyes, her voice as cold as a blade: "Big Brother, you'd better not say it!"

Seeing her like a cat with its fur standing on end, Tang Nanjin didn't know how to speak for a moment: with her current attitude, wouldn't persuading her be counterproductive?

Thinking secretly, he gave Jing Zeyang a wink, and Jing Zeyang froze for a moment, then let out a "Heh": Brother Jin, you really think that highly of me?

Believe it or not, I don't even need to open my mouth; as long as my breathing is a little too loud, a slap will come flying from the back?

Seeing his cowardly look, Tang Nanjin sighed: Forget it, let it be whatever it will be.

Anyway, the one with the biggest headache isn't me.

Shifting gears, the jeep drove out of the residential compound.

Zhao Xiuneng had business and left a step early, and Lin Sicheng saw him out the door.

After returning, seeing Wang Qi Zhi standing in front of the coffee table, motionless, Lin Sicheng sighed secretly.

Walking over to look again, sure enough: Wang Qi Zhi was smiling so hard the skin on his face was wrinkled like a chrysanthemum, yet there wasn't a sound in his throat?

The problem is, how long has he been smiling like this?

He was like this when he saw Sheng Guoan off, and he was still like this when he saw Tang Nanjin, Tang Nan Yan, and Jing Zeyang off. After seeing Zhao Shixiong off, he was still like this?

No—is it really necessary?

Don't tell me he's smiled himself stupid?

——

Lin Sicheng thought secretly, then reached out and waved his hand in front of him.

"What are you doing?" Wang Qi Zhi glared: "I'm not crazy!"

"Then why are you smiling like this?"

"I'm happy!" Wang Qi Zhi snorted coldly: "Liu Yan doesn't amount to a damn thing!"

Lin Sicheng looked strange: "Did Teacher have a feud with him?"

"It doesn't count as a feud: this son of a bitch cheated a friend of mine out of an Ai Seal, but I got it back!"

Huh, so he's actually a repeat offender?

But what kind of simple person could a friend of Teacher's be?

Lin Sicheng suddenly realized: No wonder Liu Yan hasn't returned to Beijing much in these past few years?

One can only say he brought it on himself—

In the blink of an eye, Ji Wangshu walked over to collect the cups and brewed tea for the teacher and student again.

Wang Qi Zhi finished feasting his eyes, then carefully put the imperial decree away, instructing as he did so: "I'll go with you when the time comes; no matter who asks, you say you're selling it!"

"Should we keep it for two years? It is, after all, a grace from our ancestors," Lin Sicheng glanced at the living room, "If we don't dare hang it here, hanging it in Xijing is fine too!"

"Don't keep it, the house is already attracting enough Wind!" Wang Qi Zhi rejected it decisively, "Besides, think about it: if it's sold, won't that bring me more face than hanging it at home?"

Lin Sicheng paused: Is that really the case?

Every well-known auction house has gone over it, how many Appraisers have appraised it, and how many collectors have done Artifact Research on it?

Everyone said it was a fake, but in the end, it was picked up as a bargain by his own student; if word got out, how much face would Wang Qi Zhi have?

"Then we'll sell it!"

"Of course!" Wang Qi Zhi instructed again, "No matter who asks: don't lend it, and don't rent it out!"

Lin Sicheng nodded vigorously.

The teacher and student discussed it, rolled up the imperial decree, and then rolled up the "Huashan Painting".

When it came to "Hundred Diseases Bowstring", Lin Sicheng paused slightly: "Teacher, let's not take this one!"

Wang Qi Zhi was stunned: "Why?"

Lin Sicheng didn't speak; he opened the Medical Book and turned to the page for "Eight Treasure Tablet": "Teacher, look at this—"