Chapter 600: The State Must Find a Way

He stared at Lin Sicheng for a long time: "Lin Sicheng, who is your teacher?"

"It is Mr. Wang Qi Zhi, whom you just met; he is a professor at Northwest University!"

Zhang Zongxian recalled for a moment, a look of suspicion appearing in his eyes.

Is Northwest University that impressive?

He only remembered that their research on metal and stone, Han Dynasty bamboo slips, murals, and Bronze was quite good, but were they also this professional in ancient texts and Song Li Xue?

Fearing a misunderstanding, Sheng Guoan had to explain: "Mr. Zhang, Northwest University basically doesn't teach this; Wang Qi Zhi specializes in gold, silver, and bronze wares."

Zhang Zongxian was stunned: that meant no one had taught him, so wasn't that self-taught?

He stared at Lin Sicheng and remained silent for quite a while.

Lin Sicheng pointed: "Mr. Zhang, the manuscript!"

Oh right, the manuscript—that is the real business!

Zhang Zongxian understood: these nine pages of manuscripts were not a single set, but the annotations on them were all written by one person.

"There is a hundred-year gap between the two editions of the woodblock prints, yet they were annotated by one person; how was this done?"

Lin Sicheng thought for a moment: "Mr. Zhang, as early as the end of the Shenzong reign of the Northern Song Dynasty, officials proposed adopting Li Xue as the official state learning."

"Although the emperor did not approve, the trend of studying Li Xue among the literati grew stronger. By the time of the Huizong reign, 'Collected Works of the Two Chengs' were frequently printed by official and imperial schools."

"By the Southern Song Dynasty, Li Xue gradually flourished, and was later carried forward by Zhu Xi, officially becoming the state learning. At that time, from the imperial palace down to village private schools, everyone studied Li Xue. No one knows exactly how many imperial editions were printed during those 150 years of the Southern Song, but it was certainly a lot—"

"That is the premise, now let's talk about the annotations: in the early years of the Deyou reign (1275 AD, late Southern Song), the imperial court summoned Jin Lüxiang to serve as a Dikong Lang and editor at the History Institute."

"During this time, he served as an editor at the Jixian Hall (specializing in the collection of sage classics) of the Chongwen Academy (the Song Dynasty National Library), specializing in the compilation of Li Xue classics—four years later, the Southern Song fell; before the Chongwen Academy caught fire, he rescued a large number of books and later transported them to Jinhua Renshan."

"This period is recorded in the 'Rulin Zhuan' of the 'History of Yuan', Liu Guan's (a Great Confucian of the Yuan Dynasty and a direct disciple of Jin Lüxiang) 'Renshan Xiansheng Xingzhuang', the Ming Dynasty scholar Wan Sitong's 'Rulin Zongpai', and Zhang Boxing's 'Yiluo Yuanyuan Xulu'."

"Which books were rescued is unknown, but they certainly included the Cheng-Zhu Li Xue classics he was responsible for editing—afterward, Jin Lüxiang lectured and wrote at the foot of Renshan for thirty years—"

"Wu Shidao's 'Eulogy for Master Jin Renshan' (a Great Confucian of the Yuan Dynasty and a core disciple of Jin Lüxiang), the Ming Dynasty 'Chronicle of Master Jin of Song Renshan' and the 'Examination of Disciples' section, as well as the Ming Dynasty 'Wanli Lanxi County Gazetteer' all mention: throughout his life, he set up a school to teach students, and those who studied under him and were recorded numbered over eight thousand—"

"And the field in which Jin Lüxiang's scholarship was deepest, and which he researched and taught best, was Cheng-Zhu Li Xue. If each disciple had a set of the 'Collected Works of the Two Chengs', wouldn't there be eight thousand volumes? Let me make a blind guess: could a portion of these be the part he rescued from the Jixian Hall of the Chongwen Academy in the Southern Song?"

"These historical materials also record: students asked for clarification on sage books, he lectured in detail, and annotated them by hand—when disciples asked about the classics, he enlightened them with all his heart, annotating in red and yellow ink without fatigue—"

"Especially in Liu Guan's (a Great Confucian of the Yuan Dynasty and a disciple of Jin Lüxiang) 'Renshan Xiansheng Jin Gong Xingzhuang', it is written most clearly: whenever later scholars consulted him about the posthumous works of Cheng and Zhu, the Master would exhaust his learning to enlighten them leisurely, and whenever they encountered obstacles in the text, he would personally write notes and explanations, repeatedly clarifying them—"

To translate: whenever a student did not understand, Jin Lüxiang would explain it word by word, and would even write the annotations and notes on the book for you.

And what are the posthumous works of Cheng and Zhu?

They are the academic words of the teachers compiled by disciples after the deaths of the two Chengs and Zhu Xi; Confucius's is called the 'Analects', Zhu Xi's is called the 'Classified Conversations of Master Zhu', and those of Cheng Yi and Cheng Hao are called the 'Collected Works of the Two Chengs'."

Not to mention nearly nine thousand students, if Jin Lüxiang annotated everything, even if he only annotated one-tenth, that would still be nearly nine hundred sets.

Seven people stared straight at the photos on the laptop: so this is how these nine pages came to be?

Seven people with fourteen eyes stared fixedly at the computer screen:

Throughout his life, he set up a school to teach students, and those who studied under him and were recorded numbered over eight thousand—

Whenever later scholars consulted him about the posthumous works of Cheng and Zhu, the Master would exhaust his learning to enlighten them leisurely, and whenever they encountered obstacles in the text, he would personally write notes and explanations, repeatedly clarifying them—

Just as Lin Sicheng said: one does not need all eight thousand students to be carefully taught and personally annotated; if only ten percent were annotated, that is eight hundred people.

If each person had a set of the 'Collected Works of the Two Chengs', and only one-tenth survived, that is eighty sets.

Therefore, the strange phenomenon before us appeared: the woodblock prints were a hundred years apart, yet they were annotated by the same person.

It is said that rarity makes things valuable, but how many volumes are in a set of 'Collected Works of the Two Chengs'?

'Medical Book', 'Waishu', 'Wenji', 'Zhouyi', 'Jingshuo', and 'Cuiyan' total sixty-four volumes.

Not to mention annotating all sixty-four volumes, if only one-tenth were annotated, that is six and a half volumes; how much would eighty sets be?

Even if it were Zhu Xi himself, if he had really left behind so many authentic handwritings, their value would be slashed to the ankles.

Not to mention that Jin Lüxiang was already a fourth-generation disciple of Zhu Xi—

At this point, whether it was Zhang Zongxian, Sheng Guoan, or even Tian Rulong, they could all guess seven or eight out of ten of the joints:

Why did the auction house only dare to display the photos of the four pages of the Gaozong edition, and not the photos of the other five pages of the Lizong edition?

Because there were too many loopholes in these five pages.

Ordinary people might not remember the names or courtesy names of Zhu Zi's disciples or great-disciples, but what if an extraordinary person came along?

For an auction item estimated at seventy million with a transaction price of at least one hundred million, no matter who heard the news, their first thought would definitely be: I must go see it; even if I can't afford it, I must broaden my horizons.

Just like Huang Zhi, as well as Hao Jun and Chen Yangyan.

And this place is not far from the National Library, so what if an old Expert or old scholar came?

Therefore, during the full three-day preview period before the auction, this item was only displayed for four and a half hours. That Lin Sicheng was able to encounter it was purely by coincidence.

And compared to that, missing characters due to naming taboos were secondary; the key was the paper: when Lizong ascended the throne, Zhu Xi had already been dead for thirty years; how could his authentic handwriting appear on a woodblock print made thirty years after his death?

If this point were discovered by someone, his auction would be a joke.

Therefore, including Lin Sicheng, these people in the conference room all suspected: the consignor and the auction house didn't discover it at all, or perhaps they didn't realize at all that there were loopholes in the missing strokes.

Everything else is easy to explain, but the key is "Yuanhui": you didn't even get Zhu Zi's name right, so what kind of Zhu Zi's Authentic Handwriting are you auctioning?

The problem is, did they really not discover it?

If they had discovered it, the page with the missing stroke in "Yuanhui" could not have been put up for auction.

Therefore, they were only guarding against the paper from beginning to end—

Second, since those five pages from the Lizong reign had flaws, why couldn't they just auction the four pages from the Gaozong reign?

They could, but don't even think about 160 million, don't even think about 16 million; it would top out at ten million.

Because on these four pages, there were only sporadic annotations on each page. But on the five pages from the Shenzong period, every empty space was filled with writing.

Since what is valuable is the "manuscript" and not the woodblock print, of course, the more writing, the better—

Thinking of this, Tian Rulong had a flash of inspiration: "Lin Sicheng, let me ask you first: are these nine pages the half-set that was lost from the Forbidden City back then?"

"Yes, but it is only half!"

During these four missing days, Lin Sicheng was at the Cultural Relics Bureau researching this.

He pointed at the photos, "These four from the time of Gaozong are authentic, but the remaining five are not; I suspect they were sourced from elsewhere—"

"That doesn't add up?" Tian Rulong looked suspicious, "I remember the *Collected Works of the Two Chengs* lost back then was a full half-set: thirty volumes. Even if each volume only had twenty pages, that would be six hundred pages, but this is only four pages. Where are the rest?"

"Director Tian, that's a strange question to ask. Perhaps they were lost by someone else?"

"Lin Sicheng, I'm being serious!"

"Director Tian, I really don't know!" Lin Sicheng retracted his smile, "But if you ask me to put myself in their shoes, then I can only say: since one auction can fetch over one hundred million, why wouldn't I auction it multiple times?"

Tian Rulong looked stunned: These bastards, did they take the book apart?

Every time they put out a few real pages, then a few fake ones, how many times could six hundred pages be auctioned?

"But it still doesn't add up?" Tian Rulong pinched the bridge of his nose, "No matter how stupid people are, getting fooled once is enough. Could they really get fooled several times in a row?"

Lin Sicheng smiled: "Director Tian, can you really be sure that you only got fooled once—"

Tian Rulong stiffened his neck; the words "of course" surged to his lips, but he couldn't spit them out no matter what.

Subconsciously, he looked at Sheng Guoan, then at Zhang Zongxian: Could Tian Rulong guarantee he wouldn't be fooled, and could he guarantee others wouldn't be fooled?

If it were Zhang Zongxian, he'd probably have to be fooled five or six times before giving up.

If it were those above, it would take at least ten or twenty times.

One hundred and sixty million per time, how much is twenty times?

This is the Rolling Bead Strategy: you never know how many real pearls there are.

At this point, Zhang Zongxian finally understood completely what Lin Sicheng meant by "Even if you win the bid, you won't be able to find out anything."

What it meant.

If they don't sell you all the beads, you will never know who the person behind the tray is.

The so-called client is nothing more than a piece of paper placed in plain sight: the finances are isolated cleanly, and the Information Detachment is isolated even more cleanly—

At this point, Zhang Zongxian also understood why Lin Sicheng said that Zhou Zhilin and Li Chengkai knew the manuscript had major flaws but concealed them without reporting.

To say these two were "deceiving the heavens to cross the sea" or "sneaking through the back passage" is giving them too much credit. Because even now, they still don't know where the flaws Lin Sicheng mentioned are.

What Lin Sicheng was certain of were the client and the auction house:

Whether in promotion or display, all materials explicitly used "Zhu Xi's Authentic Handwriting" as the selling point. There were catalogs and exhibition posters; he couldn't deny that.

Then, let's talk about the missing strokes in the annotations:

First, "Zigong," "Huizhi," "Zhiqing," and the "Meng" in Liu Mengniu's name. These four names are indeed obscure. If the client and the auction house quibbled that it was an oversight, or that their professional capabilities needed improvement, it might stick a little.

But what about "Yuanhui"?

This is Zhu Xi's courtesy name.

You bring a Zhu Zi Manuscript to auction, and you haven't even figured out Zhu Zi's name—what are you auctioning?

What's incredible is that they really hadn't figured it out.

They were just worried the flaws in the paper would be discovered, which is why the catalog only included the four photos from the Gaozong engraving and not the five photos from the time of Lizong.

As it happens, the page with the two characters "Yuanhui" is among the five pages from the Lizong engraving.

It amounts to the client and the auction house digging a massive pit for themselves by accident. No matter how you quibble, once you get to court, you have to make the Judge believe:

What, you say you didn't know Zhu Zi's courtesy name was "Yuanhui"—what kind of nonsense are you spouting?

You are an international auction house; you are a world-class art auction house on par with Sotheby's and Christie's.

This lot of yours was valued at over seventy million RMB, and the final price reached one hundred and sixty million—come, count for me: since China has had an art auction business, how many pieces of art have sold for over one hundred million?

It's not that there aren't any, but they are extremely rare: there were only seven before, and this is the eighth.

So, you're telling me you don't know what Zhu Zi is called? Are you fucking kidding me?

Since you didn't know, why did all the promotional materials happen to omit the photo of the page with Zhu Xi's name?

It's a clear-cut case of false advertising, misleading consumers.

Let's look at what the law stipulates:

Article 61 of the *Auction Law*: If an auction house knowingly conceals major flaws (forgeries, Artifact Restoration, false ownership) and still conducts positive promotion to mislead bidding, it is considered fraudulent sales.

Definition of terms: "No guarantee of authenticity" only applies to conventional antique cognitive disputes where the auction house lacks professional capability or is unaware; it does not apply to subjective, intentional concealment or false advertising.

Does the Zhu Zi Manuscript count as a conventional antique?

Zhu Zi's name is Zhu Xi, courtesy name Yuanhui; does that count as a cognitive dispute?

Dispute my foot.

To put it bluntly: even if there is a so-called "no guarantee of authenticity" disclaimer, it is considered invalid.

Lin Sicheng's lawsuit is a guaranteed win—

Thinking of this, the group stared straight at him again.

At the time, Lin Sicheng didn't discuss it with anyone; he just started raising his paddle, and once he did, it was by tens of millions. Not only did it startle everyone, but it also left everyone unable to understand:

Lin Sicheng, was he being too enthusiastic?

That's right, as a Chinese person, one must have a sense of responsibility; seeing national interests being damaged, it's impossible to remain indifferent.

However, you could report it, or you could give a warning; fulfilling your duty would be enough. Why did you have to roll up your sleeves and charge in yourself?

Now they knew: it turned out that back then, Lin Sicheng already had the idea of carving a huge chunk of meat off the auction house.

To put it bluntly: patriotism is fine, but I can't love for free; I have to get some benefits for myself, right?

And this haul of Lin Sicheng's was several tens of millions—

No—plus the sixty million Zhang Zongxian promised, and the twenty million from Zhou Zhilin and Li Chengkai, it had long exceeded one hundred million—

This is one hundred million?

In an instant, Tian Rulong and Sheng Guoan were numb: since when did doing appraisals become so profitable?

Not to mention them, even Zhang Zongxian found it incredible: having a sharp eye and knowing how to do appraisals alone is useless.

One must know how to gauge the situation, and one must also know how to beat the grass to startle the snake and lure the snake out of its hole.

The tiger is the three foundations, the snake is Bonhams, and as for Zhou Zhilin and Li Chengkai, they are at most the sticks Lin Sicheng used to beat the grass and startle the snake.

Without those few phone calls the two of them made to the auction house and the foundations, the legal mandate from Bonhams would not have come so quickly.

If the auction house did not sue Zhou Zhilin and Li Chengkai, there would be no way to force the two of them to the final step, and Lin Sicheng would never have been able to obtain the authorization.

Without the authorization, what power would Lin Sicheng have to litigate against Bonhams? Why would they give a damn about you?

Now it is all set. He is guaranteed to win this lawsuit; even the Heavenly King himself could not stop it.

And what Zhang Zongxian admired most was Lin Sicheng's caution in considering defeat before considering victory.

He could actually have avoided all this trouble, bid for it himself directly, or even raised the price a bit more, say to two hundred million, or even three hundred million.

By then, with the debt rights in his hands, he could sue however he wanted.

The reason Lin Sicheng used a provocation tactic to let Zhou Zhilin and Li Chengkai drop the hammer was to guard against that one-in-a-million chance beyond the ninety-nine point nine nine nine percent:

In case he misjudged and things backfired, at least this item would not end up stuck in his hands—

Thinking of this, Zhang Zongxian made a "tsk" sound: the younger generation is to be feared!

Looking at it from another angle, he even felt a bit of pity for Zhou Zhilin and Li Chengkai: you two, why did you have to be so loose-lipped?

He smiled: "Little Lin, are you in a hurry for money?"

Unknowingly, Zhang Zongxian's form of address had changed several times: from no address, to "Lin Sicheng," and then to Little Lin.

But no one felt it was abrupt.

"Mr. Zhang, I am indeed a bit short: some time ago, I applied for several technologies from a few foreign companies.

Although they are free licenses, there are quite a few restrictive clauses: to put it bluntly, I can only use my own money for research and development—"

"What kind of technology?"

"There are scientific research instruments, and also biological sciences?"

"Which companies?"

"Sciex, Bruker, Keyence, Aimeier, Rigaku, Agilent—"

Zhang Zongxian was stunned for a moment: Good heavens?

Even if he didn't understand much, he knew what kind of companies these were.

Although these companies do not directly research biomedicine, they develop the scientific testing instruments that all biomedical research institutions require.

It can be said that if one does not use the instruments from these six companies, all the world's top pharmaceutical laboratories and testing rooms would have to close down.

Zhang Zongxian could not figure it out; how did Lin Sicheng manage to obtain technology that even the state could not get?

And it was a free license?

The middle-aged man leaned over and whispered a few words in his ear; with a "whoosh," Zhang Zongxian's eyes lit up like lightbulbs.

He finally understood why Lin Sicheng's combo of moves to deal with Bonhams was so skillful and so smooth.

Compared to those six companies, Bonhams isn't even fit to carry their shoes—

"How do you plan to solve it?" Zhang Zongxian stared at Lin Sicheng, "I am talking about the R&D funds!"

Lin Sicheng saw at once that the old man wanted to help.

He thought for a moment: "Once Mr. Zhang's sixty million arrives, the entry capital will basically be half-solved. For the rest, I plan to sell some of my collection—"

After a slight pause, he emphasized: "It must be at market price!"

As for backroom deals or trying to intentionally give a bit more, don't even think about it: those three women are not blind.

"Good, Little Lin, notify me when the time comes!"

"Thank you, Mr. Zhang!"

Zhang Zongxian waved his hand: "It was just a small favor!"

He knew very well how expensive technology R&D is: ten billion is just the starting point.

Even if he bought all of Lin Sicheng's collection, it would only be a drop in the bucket. It would still be a long way off from Lin Sicheng's shortfall.

Therefore, in the end, the state will still have to find a way—