Chapter 413: An Expert Only Needs One Glance

The cups and plates were in disarray; the excitement had faded and the people had dispersed.

Staring at Lin Sicheng's retreating back, the man in the cotton-padded jacket let his face sag and rubbed his aching jaw.

He had lost count of how many times he had forced a smile in the past hour, or how many times cold sweat had seeped down his back.

Having scraped by for half a lifetime, he had never seen a person like this: refined and gentle, speaking in soft, laughing tones, yet the words he spoke made one's hair stand on end and chilled one to the bone.

It was as if those eyes could see right into your marrow; any trickery or performance was a complete waste of effort.

What kind of person was this, exactly?

For a moment, Feng Laosan could not find a single suitable adjective.

Just as he was stunned, the Nokia in his cotton-padded jacket pocket buzzed twice.

Feng Laosan did not answer; he hung up immediately and glanced again in the direction Lin Sicheng had left.

The people were gone and the alley was empty, but the stifling feeling in his heart did not dissipate in the slightest; instead, it grew even heavier: was it really just out of curiosity?

The other party had already drawn the line; whether it was intentional or not, he had to accept it.

Because it was not just about two million...

The sun had passed its zenith, and the temperature had dropped again.

There was no shortage of tourists, and the market remained bustling.

The gray, worn-out cotton-padded jacket had been replaced by a leather jacket, and the messy hair was styled with mousse, shining brightly.

He wore sunglasses on his face and twirled a Santana car key around his finger.

Passing through the alley and reaching the parking lot, a "beep" sounded, and the window of a Xiali car rolled down a crack.

The man looked left and right, then pulled open the front passenger door.

There was no one in the front, but in the back seat sat a man and a woman—they were none other than the female artifact restorer from before and that fat man from Taiwan.

The fat man looked at his attire and frowned: "Old Feng, where is the person?"

"He left!"

The fat man froze for a moment, then asked with anger: "Why didn't you send the signal?"

"What good would it do if I sent it? Do you dare to kidnap him, or do you dare to kill him?"

Through the car window, Feng Laosan looked at the jeep next to them: "Old Hu, this is Beijing, and this area had a crackdown just last month. Do you believe that the people you hired would have someone call the Police before they even got out of the car or entered the market gates? Do you believe that within five minutes, the Police would arrive? And nine times out of ten, they'd be driving a Riot Vehicle..."

The fat man was choked up and could not say a word.

He was a swindler, not a daring bandit who lived with his head on the line; he knew what could be done and what could not.

He was just furious: having traveled north and south, dancing on the edge of a blade for so many years, it had always been him setting traps for others; this was the first time he had been trapped by someone else. If he didn't vent this frustration, he wouldn't even be able to sleep. At worst, he would earn a little less; he would hit and run.

"You can't beat him!" Feng Laosan sighed and looked at the jeep: "If I tell you he knows martial arts and is an expert, you surely won't believe me? But I can guarantee that even if he gave up one hand, he could still make the four people you hired beg for mercy..."

The fat man was stunned and let out a "ha": he knows martial arts and is an expert?

He knows appraisal and is an expert?

He knows Artifact Restoration and is also an expert?

"Old Feng, are you telling stories?"

Knowing he wouldn't believe it, Feng Laosan extended his palm: "Come, you can be considered an old hand; recall what this means?" As he spoke, he curled his palm slightly, his thumb sliding across the first knuckle line of his four fingers, then down along his little finger, and finally sliding out from the base of his fingers. The fat man froze, his face showing signs of recollection.

He knew this was the Yuanliang Seal and could guess that it was likely a way of testing one's background. But the problem was, it had been so many years since he had used it; how could he remember it so clearly? But while he didn't remember, someone else did. The woman was stunned: "Jiaqiu Seal?"

"Correct!" Feng Laosan sighed and gestured it again: "May I ask, fellow Yuanliang, where have you divided the mountain armor (tomb), and how many hill gates (mechanisms, tomb chambers) have you dismantled?"

The fat man was stunned: "That kid made that gesture?"

"Obviously!"

"Is he... one of our own?"

"What else?"

"Then how did you respond?"

"It's been so many years, I've forgotten most of it; how could I respond? But fortunately, although I forgot the seal, I still remember a bit of the array..." Feng Laosan spread his palm and tapped three times: "You two know it too, recognize this: this is the pot, these two are the cups, this one is mine, and this one is his... come, calculate the orientation!"

This is the Three Talents Alignment in Feng Shui, which involves observing the stars, mountain shapes, and water currents, then combining them with the Twenty-Four Mountain Directions, Eight Trigrams, Nine Stars, etc., on a Compass to make a comparative judgment, and finally calculating the location of a large tomb.

The principle is not complicated; what is complicated is the calculation process, and even more complicated is: one must be proficient in astronomy, geography, and Feng Shui.

However, this is when looking for a tomb in the wilderness; if it is only used to agree on an orientation, it is much simpler.

Of course, it is only simple for Feng Laosan. He pre-set the locations: Rao Yu Zhai is the Heavenly Pole position, the restaurant is the Dragon-Tiger Convergence of the Earthly Pole, and he only needed to find a suitable Human Pole Central Palace to complete the array.

But if it were given to Lin Sicheng: he would first have to know which of the Three Talents Arrays this was—was it Gathering Treasure, Five Evils, Yin-Yang Mutual Reversal, or Qian-Kun Inversion?

Only by determining the array could he know which side was True North (not Magnetic North), and then use a Compass to compare where the Ming Tang Position of the Human Pole Central Palace was. Then, he would have to calculate where the Dragon-Tiger Convergence was.

Even for a professional Feng Shui master, it would take at least half a day.

If it were the fat man, one would have to praise him for being smart if he could calculate it in a day.

He let out a "huh": "Old Feng, you don't even have a Compass; aren't you making things difficult for people?"

"But he could do it!" Feng Laosan recalled: "From the time he left to the place I arranged, it took less than five minutes. He didn't take a Compass, let alone calculate; he just walked straight there."

The fat man was stunned and shook his head decisively: "Impossible!"

Feng Laosan pointed to the Santana opposite: "Go ask Xiaowu: he was the one following him, from Rao Yu Zhai to the restaurant; how many minutes did he follow him? During this time, did he see that person take out a Compass?"

The fat man stared, speechless: does this guy have a computer in his brain?

"I won't even mention how much rust is on his hands or how deep it is; let me talk about the calluses on his hands..." Feng Laosan spread his right hand: "Here... here... here... here... the key is the color of the rust in the calluses: that section on the knuckle is black, and those two spots on the side of the little finger are blue..." "Aqin, you are an expert in porcelain restoration; tell the fat man what this represents."

The woman moved her lips but could not speak: Hu Hai just didn't know how, but it didn't mean he didn't understand.

Only by repairing large lacquerware would one leave calluses on the inside of the fingertips. Only by painting Colored Porcelain and Blue Glaze would one press calluses onto the outside of the little finger. She had been studying for nearly thirty years and could barely play with large lacquer; as for Colored Porcelain and Blue Glaze, let alone repairing them, she wouldn't even dare to try.

Recalling that person's appearance again: he was at most in his early twenties...

"When he left, Wan Younian of Rao Yu Zhai bowed to him twice in a row. I thought at the time whether he had already exposed us, so after he left, I had Xiaowen go and probe. Guess what I found out?"

After a brief pause, Feng Laosan exhaled forcefully: "In order to see that Brush Washer of ours, the moment he entered the door, he pointed out that Blue Glazed Purple Clay Pot of Rao Yu Zhai: Republic of China Li Baozhen... the key is: he didn't even touch it, he was even five or six meters away, just looking through the glass cabinet..." Before he could finish, the woman and the fat man suddenly raised their heads: how could this be possible?

Insiders all know that the pot at Rao Yu Zhai is an old imitation. It's not just one or two experts who have specifically gone to look at it, yet no one knows where it came from, and even fewer know whose craftsmanship was used to imitate it.

This is because that pot hasn't left the display case since it entered, and more importantly, because no one can do what he did: judge the era, origin, and even the characteristics of the craftsmanship of an item just by looking at it through the glass.

That kid isn't the father of the boss of Rao Yu Zhai, so Shen Songcai certainly couldn't have taken it out for him to see, so how did he judge it?

Seeing the two of them looking as if they had been frightened, Feng Laosan sighed again: "Old Hu, you've always said I'm timid, said I'm a coward, that I retreat whenever something happens, and that following me is too spineless."

"Fine, today I'll be tough for once: that person should still be at the market. You go, take these few people you found, bring Xiaowu and Xiaowen along too, and vent this frustration from today..."

Pangzi's pupils constricted, and the fat on his face twitched.

He might be a bit impulsive at times, but he wasn't stupid, was he?

Even taking a step back, had he spent half his life in the underworld for nothing?

Setting aside his ability to appraise and restore, and even dismissing what Old Feng said about him knowing martial arts as nonsense, just look at that Jiaqiu Seal, just look at how he broke Old Feng's Three Talents Array without even a slight hesitation—what kind of person is this, damn it?

Even if he started learning from his mother's womb, doesn't the premise require someone to teach him?

Come on, at his age, with this kind of skill in Dragon Seeking and Dividing Gold, what kind of person must it be who could teach him to be like this?

He even suspected that if he dared to touch a single hair on this person today, before tomorrow's dawn, he would have several extra holes in his own body...

Pangzi let out a mournful roar: "Screw his mother?"

He had been hunting geese for half his life, everything smooth and safe, without any surprises or dangers. Just as he was about to retire, he gets targeted by a hawk?

And it's one so big it's boundless, the kind that could swallow them whole in one bite without even needing to spit out the feathers.........

The woman also really wanted to curse like that; she bit her lip: "If we can't use a hard pole (deep background), then we just use a hard wax-pull (black-on-black robbery)?"

"When did he ever 'hard pull the wax'?"

Halfway through speaking, Feng Laosan finally realized and slapped his forehead: he blamed himself for not explaining clearly.

"Aqin, actually I'm just like you: when I was eating, I was still thinking, even if his Zhaoji is sharp (good eyesight) and his 'colors' are far (high appraisal skill), his age is right there. Our Hard Pieces (porcelain) aren't just ordinary 'hard' (imitated well), is this kid trying to scam us, wanting to take advantage of the situation to scrape some profit?"

"But I only thought about it for a second, and he was like someone who could read minds, saying two words on the spot..." Feng Laosan gestured, "Japanese Imitation Ru Ware!" As if touched by electricity, the woman and Pangzi shuddered violently, their faces full of disbelief.

Counting the entire Beijing... oh no, counting all of China, those who could guess where that thing came from definitely don't exceed two handfuls.

This is even counting places like the Forbidden City, including those big-shot masters and experts in the circle who are so arrogant and famous that they explode—if you put the Brush Washer in front of them and explicitly told them it was a Japanese imitation, would they dare to believe it?

Because this thing has never appeared in the country at all, no one has ever seen it, so how could they recognize or appraise it?

Then why could this person do it, hitting the nail on the head and pointing straight to the source?

"Don't dare to believe it? There's something even harder to believe..." Feng Laosan gave a bitter smile and pointed at the woman, "He knows you are from Fujian, and even more, he knows you learned the Shanghai Chen Sanxiao sandalwood Mortise and Tenon bone structure, and the lacquer Imitation Glaze aging technique..."

After a slight pause, he pointed at Pangzi: "And he knows that you, Old Hu, learned your craft in Guangzhou Xiguan..."

The woman was stunned; after a long time, she lifted her own hands as if she were a machine.

Then, she stared at them blankly, without blinking, without moving.

They had never met, they didn't know each other at all, so how could he instantly identify her roots?

Because one can listen to the accent: in the ears of a master, even a person from Luanping, Hebei—the source of Mandarin—still carries an accent when speaking. And one can look at the craftsmanship: he can even restore blue-and-white porcelain, so why wouldn't he know her minor skills?

Just by looking at the rust color and depth, and the position of the calluses, one can judge her Artifact Restoration characteristics, and even who her master was...

Pangzi was even more shocked beyond words.

During the Republic of China, there were four major schools of antique dealers: in the north was Jin Bosheng (active in Beijing and Tianjin), in the east was Yao Shulai (brother-in-law of Zhang Jingjiang, active in Shanghai), in the west was Dai Runzhai (active in Europe and America), and in the south was Lu Qinzhai (Guangzhou and Hong Kong).

If you want to sell, you must first collect; if you want to collect, you must know how to appraise, at least to ensure you make as few mistakes as possible and collect fewer fakes. Therefore, it can be said that the top-tier Appraisers who could be ranked during the Republic of China all cooperated with these four.

Those slightly inferior, who could be called expert Appraisers, had nearly half of them worked as Apprentices in the chambers of commerce and trade guilds of these four families. Because their focuses were different, each school's appraisal technique had its own characteristics; whichever school you learned your craft in, you were called that school.

In the early Republic of China, Hu Pangzi's grandfather worked as an Apprentice at the Lu-Wu Company established by Lu Qinzhai in Guangzhou, and around the 1930s, he became a head clerk. Before the liberation, he fled to Hong Kong, and later, after being set up, he went bankrupt and the whole family fled to Taiwan.

And at that time, the Lu-Wu Guangzhou branch was located in Liwan District, Guangzhou. But this was a name changed later; during the Republic of China, that place was called Xiguan. Therefore, Hu Pangzi's grandfather was a genuine member of the Guangzhou Xiguan School.

But the problem is, there isn't such deep rust on Pangzi's hands, nor are there any calluses?

He only went to the stall to look twice, but no matter which time it was, it was just acting; he didn't use any appraisal techniques at all, just pretending to hold it in his hands.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt something was wrong; as if infected by the woman, Pangzi also blankly lifted his hands and stared at them.

After a long time, as if he had a toothache, he gasped: "That shouldn't be, right?"

The woman shook her head: there is nothing that "shouldn't be."

Nine times out of ten, Pangzi revealed traces when he was acting: for example, the sequence, for example, the angle.

A top-tier master only needs one look to judge which school of craftsmanship you inherited...