Chapter 373: Tea Party

The sun was high, and the warm light spread diagonally across Chang'an Street; the glazed tiles of Tiananmen shimmered with golden light. Figures wove through the arches like scattered black sesame seeds.

The Golden Water River was covered in a thin layer of ice, with withered leaves frozen beneath it like amber. A group of people emerged from the gate tower, all with identical buzz cuts and wearing uniform cold-weather gear; their polished leather shoes clicked against the bridge deck, the clanging sound echoing across the square.

After crossing the arched bridge and entering the gate tower, one reached a long corridor. The museum was temporarily closed during this period, so no tourists were to be seen.

Yet, strangely, the convenience kiosks on the east and west sides were still operating.

One sold souvenirs: national flags, badges, brooches, party pins, and even models of the Forbidden City.

The other was a food cart: hawthorn fruit rolls, hawthorn cakes, and even roasted chestnuts, fried flour tea, Erguotou, and even hot yogurt.

Further in, in order, were the Duan Gate, the Que Gate, and the Wu Gate. The "beheading at the Wu Gate" in ancient dramas refers to this place. Of course, those qualified to be beheaded here had to be at least of the seventh rank or higher; commoners were all taken to the vegetable market.

Past the Wu Gate was the Forbidden City. The southeast corner housed the Wenhua Hall, where the Calligraphy and Painting Gallery (exhibition hall) of the Museum, the Ancient Calligraphy and Painting Research Center, the Cultural Relics Protection and Artifact Restoration Department, the Ancient Architecture Department, and even the Calligraphy and Painting Warehouse and the Qing History Hall were located.

In a sun-drenched, warm chamber, a dozen conference tables were arranged in a circle, with several pots of flowers placed in the center. A banner hung on the wall at the head of the room: "Time Flows Like Light, Warming Words in Early Winter."

Several old Experts leaned against the sofas nearby, with fruits and pastries set out on the coffee table.

Two young female research assistants were busy pouring tea. Wu Xingchang took the antique-style purple clay cup, blew away the foam, and took a sniff: "Oh? Dragon Well tea picked before the Qingming Festival—is Sheng Guoan really willing to spend such a fortune?"

He Jiutian, sitting nearby, couldn't help but laugh upon hearing "Sheng Guoan spending a fortune": "If someone offers favors without a reason, they are either a traitor or a thief. Do you think this tea party of his today is really just a tea party? He probably encountered something difficult to date and wants us to come over and take a look."

"Idle is idle; if we can appraise it, we earn a meal, and if we can't, we still earn a meal!" Old Madam Wang picked up a winter jujube. "Either way, we don't lose out!"

At the mention of "not losing out," the several old Experts laughed in unison: although Sheng Guoan wasn't many years younger than them, since he was of the younger generation, he would always be the younger generation. As long as he asked them for a favor, regardless of whether they could help today, this meal was definitely unavoidable.

After laughing for a while, He Jiutian looked around: "Why wasn't Teacher Liu (the master of calligraphy and painting, Liu Anda) invited?"

Wang Liying shook her head and gestured: "He's ninety-seven; let's not put him through the trouble!"

The several old Experts nodded in unison: That's true.

Living safely and soundly for another three or four years to break a hundred would be an auspicious sign.

Just as they were lamenting, the door to the warm chamber was pushed open with a "creak." First to enter was Sheng Guoan, followed by a young man carrying a case, with Liu Yiling trailing behind.

"We see each other every few days, so let's skip the formalities—" Liu Yiling was about to offer greetings when Wu Xingchang waved his hand and looked at Sheng Guoan: "What is it, have you run into a difficult problem again?"

A difficult problem?

As soon as Sheng Guoan heard this, he knew these people had misunderstood, thinking he had tricked them over again to serve as free Appraisers for the institute.

"No difficult problem today; I just thought that since early winter is approaching, I'd invite you teachers over for a cup of hot tea and, incidentally, to see something rare!"

The group paused in unison: The tea was indeed quite good; it must have been paid for out of Sheng Guoan's own pocket, or perhaps swiped from somewhere.

But as for seeing something rare, having spent most of their lives in the Forbidden City, what kind of rare objects hadn't they seen?

"Fine, then let's make it quick!" Wu Xingchang pointed to the case in Lin Sicheng's hand. "Finish looking quickly so we can go out to eat—"

The several Experts laughed again: "Right, whether we can appraise it or not, today's meal is set!"

"What's the big deal? Here by the Imperial City, you teachers can pick wherever you like—"

Sheng Guoan was joking when a laugh suddenly came from outside the door: "Oh, quite lively, aren't you?"

The group turned their heads in unison and were stunned in unison.

An old man wearing a tang suit with a front-button closure sat in a wheelchair; his face was thin and gaunt, his hair and beard completely white.

But his spirit looked quite good, and his voice was full of vigor.

Pushing the wheelchair was a middle-aged man in his fifties who looked seventy or eighty percent like the old man; one look and it was clear they were father and son.

Regardless of gender, all the Experts stood up.

Sheng Guoan hurried over a few steps and crouched down to take the old man's hand: "Teacher, it's so cold, why did you come?"

""

"It's not early winter yet, how cold could it be?" The old man smiled and looked behind him. "The institute is holding a tea party, and you didn't call me?"

Sheng Guoan smiled, not daring to argue.

Approaching the age of one hundred, every winter was like Crossing Tribulation: if he could endure it, he would live another year; if he couldn't, he would simply reach his End of Life.

Therefore, one should avoid unnecessary trouble whenever possible.

But from the old man's perspective: in one's twilight years, friends become fewer with each passing year; every meeting is one less meeting—

Sheng Guoan looked slightly suspicious: "Teacher, how did you know the institute was holding a tea party?"

The old man smiled: "I guessed!"

Sheng Guoan shook his head decisively: Impossible, someone must have let it slip.

But since he was already here?

While pondering, Sheng Guoan pushed the old man over, and the several old Experts shook hands with him one by one.

Immediately after, the old man saw the case by the coffee table.

When he was fourteen, he had studied painting under Zui Shi (Li Tao, a famous painter of the Wu School during the Republic of China) and simultaneously studied appraisal under Mr. Wu Hufan (a famous collector and appraiser of the Republic of China); with just one glance, he knew this was a custom-made storage box ordered from Rongbaozhai.

It didn't look large from the outside, but the interior was designed extremely ingeniously; it could hold small items like calligraphy and painting, ancient jade, porcelain, and bronze.

Therefore, it was terribly expensive; a single box like this cost at least thirty or forty thousand. From this, one could see how precious the contents were.

He let out an "Oh": "Did the Collection Department find something new?"

Sheng Guoan smiled: "It's not from the institute; it's just quite rare, so I brought it for you teachers to see and have a bit of fun!"

Like the other Experts, Liu Anda immediately became interested: having spent most of his life researching, what kind of rare objects hadn't he seen?

"Open it and let's take a look!"

Sheng Guoan paused, then nodded: The teacher had arrived too suddenly, and with this interruption, he didn't know how to introduce Lin Sicheng.

Never mind, he would talk after they finished looking—

He gave Lin Sicheng a wink.

Lin Sicheng understood instantly: It seemed Sheng Guoan had only mentioned a tea party and hadn't said what they were looking at or whose it was.

He hadn't mentioned Wang Qi Zhi, nor had he mentioned Teacher Liu's closing-door disciple, Ji Shiniang.

It was also a coincidence; his teacher (Wang Qi Zhi) had originally intended to come, but something suddenly came up at the Cultural Relics Research Institute, and as the school's (Xida) temporary liaison in Beijing, he naturally had to prioritize his primary duties.

Otherwise, it would have been quite a commotion again.

Thinking to himself, he placed the box on the coffee table, undid the lock, and took the items out one by one.

First were four scrolls, three thin and one thick.

Then came three small boxes, along with two items wrapped in paper. When he placed them on the coffee table, one could hear a "buzzing" vibration; just by the sound, one knew they were Bronze.

Seeing his technique was quite practiced and methodical, Wang Liying instinctively took a few extra looks.

Lin Sicheng seemed to sense it, looked up, and smiled.

Huh, the young man is quite handsome, not shy, and his hands and feet are nimble.

Judging by his appearance, he was at most a university graduate; he must be an Intern just recruited by the institute.

Only curious for a moment, the old lady did not ask further, looking at the things on the coffee table.

Sheng Guoan also came to help, first unwrapping a painting.

Several pairs of eyes looked over in unison, including Wu Xingchang, He Jiutian, Wang Liying, and also Liu Anda.

Wu Xingchang specialized in ceramics and was currently the most prominent authority-level ancient ceramic Expert in the domestic archaeological and appraisal circles.

Of course he understood Calligraphy and Painting, but Liu Anda understood them even better; in terms of skill in ancient calligraphy and painting, as well as seniority and status, he was on par with his status in the ancient ceramics circle.

Wang Liying also specialized in ceramics and had studied Calligraphy and Painting, but only as a secondary interest. He Jiutian specialized in Jade, followed by glassware, and had basically never dabbled in calligraphy and painting.

Therefore, the three of them just watched quietly without speaking.

Liu Anda was also watching; he first looked at the mounting, then at the roller, and while looking, he muttered: "Jingyang North Xuan paper, Bashan Pine roller?"

Just those ten or so words made Lin Sicheng's spirit stir: Old sir, you are impressive?

Just at a glance, being able to recognize Jingyang North Xuan was not strange; he could tell, and Sheng Guoan could tell too. But to say it was Bashan Pine was truly asking a lot.

This was a pine species unique to the Qinling, existing only in Micang Mountain and Hualong Mountain. After the bark is peeled, the wood grain is like the skin shed by a snake, so it is also called White Snake Pine.

But the problem was, this roller had been attached to this painting for over five hundred years; the wood core had already turned pithy, so how could one still see any snake-skin texture?

If given to someone with a shallower eye, let alone Bashan Pine, they wouldn't even be able to recognize what kind of wood it was—

While still astonished, the old man muttered another sentence: "Yan'an Red Flame Ink, Shangzhou Cinnabar, Tongguan Ochre, Lantian Stone Green—"

After a slight pause, the old man closed his eyes and thought: "A famous Shaanxi master from the early Ming Dynasty?"

Lin Sicheng was stunned: They say old eyes grow dim, but this one is the opposite; he doesn't even need a Magnifying Glass?

And his judgment is incredibly accurate—

Thinking to himself, the old man muttered again: "The painting has quite distinct characteristics: Stone Grain Texture, Broken Stone Point, Iron Chisel Wrinkle, Broken Brush Method—the stone grain is like a giant axe splitting, the edges sharp enough to cut paper. The rain streaks slant like arrows, the clouds wrap around the mountains like a shroud, the scorched ink dots of moss are as dense as bullet holes, and the blank spaces look like a collapsing avalanche?"

"Huh, Wang Lü's Huashan Painting from the early Ming Dynasty?" The old man clicked his tongue in wonder, "And this one is the main painting?"

Lin Sicheng really wanted to give a thumbs up, but Sheng Guoan was already unfazed and gave him a "don't be too surprised" look.

The other three old Experts gathered around in unison.

"Wang Lü's Huashan Painting, I remember the institute has some?"

"Yes, quite a few, twenty-nine of them, and another eleven are at the Shanghai Museum—"

"There were even more originals, seventy-two in total, but in the late Qing Dynasty, those two brothers stole and sold most of them—including those eleven in Shanghai, which were only collected back from the public after the founding of the country—"

"Being able to find the main painting is considered quite good—"

The few of them spoke one after another, and after watching for a good while, Sheng Guoan finally put it away.

This time he didn't let Lin Sicheng do it; Sheng Guoan opened the second painting.

Liu Anda glanced at it: A small fan painting, Xu Gu's Squirrel Painting?

The characteristics were very obvious: Other painters, when painting squirrels, always emphasize roundness and softness, liveliness and movement; only Xu Gu went against the grain, emphasizing vigor and leanness:

The squirrel's body is a blunt triangle, the scorched ink and scattered brush tips tear out jagged fur, like the pine needle technique, and also like stone-carving wrinkles.

And the squirrel's eyes must have square pupils: using the technique of a stone-carving knife cutting into stone, making the squirrel's eyes appear diamond-shaped or like the square hole of a coin, the cold light like a blade.

At first glance, it is not only sloppy but also reveals a bit of wildness.

Looking at the paper, looking at the painting, and then looking at the colophon and the seal, Liu Anda looked suspicious: "A piece that is obviously authentic at first glance, with the colophon and seal so clear, what is there to look at?"

"It is indeed authentic at first glance!" Sheng Guoan smiled and gestured: "But it was auctioned at the Xiling Seal Art Society auction, and it only cost seventy-eight thousand!"

How much?

Liu Anda was stunned for a moment, then looked at the painting again: Being able to paint a squirrel like a bristling lion, both wild and fierce—besides Xu Gu, there couldn't be a second person.

The paper, roller, and ink were even less of a problem; the whole painting was integrated, without any traces of repair or artificial aging.

Looking at the seal again: No matter how dim his old eyes were, he at least knew whose "Mirror Pond Heart Appreciation" seal was on the painting heart.

And whose "Guard" seal was on the side: This was his teacher, the "Number One Collector in Shanghai" during the Republic of China, appraiser, famous painter, and educator Wu Hufan's collection seal.

After the founding of the country, he was hired by the Shanghai Cultural Relics Management Committee to serve as a member of the Shanghai Cultural Relics Preservation Committee and the Shanghai Cultural Relics Appraisal and Acquisition Committee. The full text of this seal is "Cultural Relics Guard," used exclusively for official transfer of Cultural Relics.

Jingtang refers to Qian Jingtang, a great collector and appraiser in Shanghai during the late Qing and Republic of China periods. After the founding of the country, he donated thousands of famous Calligraphy and Painting and seals to the state.

Thus, this painting must have been in the old collection of Qian Jingtang, donated to the Shanghai cultural relics department after the founding of the country. Afterward, Wu Hufan appraised it, and then it was stored in the Treasury. The "Guard" seal should have been stamped at that time.

Therefore, based on these two seals alone, let alone seventy-eight thousand, even if it were bought back for seven hundred and eighty thousand, it could be considered a bargain.

The key is, the Xiling Seal Art Society auction?

Doesn't that mean the Xiling Seal Art Society missed a treasure?

The few Experts were energized, their faces showing gossipy expressions: Sheng Guoan wasn't lying; he really called them over to see something rare?

Liu Anda pointed at the painting: "How did it leak?"

"First, the calligraphy. The appraiser only knew that Xu Gu mastered both the Yan and Liu styles, with cold and hard brushwork, so seeing the inscription on this was elegant, wide, and thin, they thought it was a fake. Second, the paper. The fan surface is not the leather paper common in Suzhou during the late Qing Dynasty, but wood pulp paper bleached by chemical methods.

Furthermore, the position of the 'Mirror Pond Heart Appreciation' seal is wrong; it wasn't stamped in the blank space, but on the squirrel's back. Finally, the appraiser didn't know the origin of the 'Guard' seal—"

The few old Experts were stunned.

At first hearing, it felt quite unbelievable. But upon closer reflection, it was reasonable.

The Xiling of today is no longer the Xiling of the past.

The auction company is merely an intermediary platform; if someone bids, they earn a commission, and if no one bids, they lose nothing. Although the appraiser was somewhat rigid and stuck to the rules, it actually shows a high level of professional integrity, as they did not pass off inferior goods as quality ones or fakes as genuine.

Liu Anda sighed, "Put it away—"

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