Chapter 612: Do You Dare Say This Is a Coincidence?

While they were stunned, Lin Sicheng put down the album, gathered the small paintings, and rebound them.

Threading the needle, pulling the thread, passing through the holes, tying the knots—his fingers were exceptionally nimble, and his speed was exceptionally fast; in less than a minute, the twenty-four small paintings were bound into a brand-new album.

But it was not in the original order; Lin Sicheng rearranged them entirely, binding them in an order corresponding to the "Base Area Atlas."

After binding it, he turned to the front, and the people below discovered: on the originally plain white cover of the album, there was now an extra line of calligraphy:

"Taihang Twenty-Four Hidden Strongholds Album."

Lin Sicheng set the album aside and beckoned; Fang Jin walked quickly onto the stage, holding a wooden box in his hands.

After opening it, inside were six medical books, the "Jiyang Outline."

The guests below felt baffled: the previous album hadn't even been explained clearly, so why was another item brought up?

Oh no, it hadn't been explained at all: he hadn't explained whose hidden strongholds the twenty-four hidden strongholds were, let alone why they all matched up with the Anti-Japanese base areas.

While they were suspicious, someone suddenly remembered: "During the Banghans Auction, this set of medical books and this album, didn't they seem to be consigned by the same seller?"

"Does that mean these two things are a set?"

"It's possible!"

"But one is a medical book and the other is a picture album; what connection could they have?"

"That's not necessarily true: before General Manager Lin showed the photos, who could have imagined that Ming Dynasty landscape paintings could match up with base areas from the War of Resistance Against Japan?"

"That's true!"

While speaking, Lin Sicheng took out the medical books and first opened the cover of the first volume.

A line of small characters appeared on it: "Wu Zi's 'Jiyang Outline,' a broad collection of formulas and theories. In the Bingxu year, I took refuge from chaos in the mountains, gathered herbs, and traveled through many peaks; in my leisure time, I hand-copied it once. I dare not show it to the vulgar easily. Inscribed by Hong Daoren."

The small regular script was very vigorous, with thick and solid lines, carrying the rounded strength of seal script.

The key was the final signature: Hong Daoren?

Wasn't the signature on the landscape album from just a moment ago also Hong Daoren?

Looking again at the characteristics of the character shapes and the details of the brushwork, it was indeed somewhat similar to the previous small paintings.

This was just the feeling of ordinary people, so they only felt it was similar. In the eyes of Zhang Zongxian and Sheng Guoan, this calligraphy was no longer just similar; it was written by the very same author who painted those twenty-four album leaves.

The sinews and bones were vigorous, the momentum was powerful, and it was relaxed on the outside but tight on the inside—one hundred percent, nailed down, the painting and the calligraphy were by the same author.

But that was not the point; the point lay in the starting and ending of the strokes, the method of character structure, the layout of the composition, and even the overall temperament and style—

No matter which aspect, the more they looked, the more familiar it seemed.

Wasn't it agreed upon earlier that they had no impression of it? How could this sudden sense of familiarity be explained?

The key was that both of them were familiar with it; what did that explain?

It explained that this person's calligraphy works were heavily collected in the Forbidden City, and Sheng Guoan had conducted sufficient Artifact Research on them.

It further explained that this person's calligraphy works appeared absolutely frequently in the market and at auctions; Zhang Zongxian had seen many and appraised many, which was why they left such a deep impression in his memory.

The two looked at each other, and four words popped into their minds simultaneously: "Calligraphy Master."

If these six volumes of hand-copied medical books were all the work of this person, then how many pages would there be?

The key was, who copied them?

Just as they were shocked and uncertain, Lin Sicheng opened the medical book and turned directly to the last page, and small characters appeared on the screen again.

It was not the content of the medical book; it looked more like a casual note, or perhaps some kind of poetic formula.

Lin Sicheng clapped his hands: "Now we have reached the deduction stage. Everything I say next is purely my personal speculation. If you teachers feel that I am telling a story, that wouldn't be wrong either!"

Roars of laughter came from below. Lin Sicheng laughed along, then pointed to those two lines of semi-cursive poetry: "First, look at the first line: 'You return from Taihang gathering Poria, how many layers of mountains have you seen?'"

"'Twenty-four peaks covered in snow, clearly entering the cold oak trees.'"

"The first line is a question, and the second is the answer: the question is about the mountains, but the answer is about the season and the climate. If I were to speculate, these should be two lines of code for a rendezvous: the person in the mountains asks, 'Where do you come from?' The herb gatherer answers, 'The Twenty-Four Hidden Strongholds—'"

As he spoke, Lin Sicheng scrolled the mouse, and the screen split into three: the left side showed the medical book, the middle the album, and the right the photograph.

Lin Sicheng flipped forward to one of the pages; looking at the content, it should be a prescription for internal medicine, all hand-copied. The handwriting was exactly the same as the question and answer on the back cover.

And in the blank space at the very top, two lines of marginal notes were written, also in the same handwriting:

"Gathering Poria sprouts at the beach, waiting for the years to pass by the water."

"Do not head toward the long road where carriages and horses travel, come at dusk to talk of mist and clouds upon the rocks."

It looked like a casual poem, or perhaps a song formula for gathering herbs.

What did this mean?

Just as the guests were pondering, Lin Sicheng scrolled the mouse again, and the first leaf of the rebound album appeared in the middle of the screen, while a photo of the Hebei Jingxing Nanhetan Ancient Road appeared on the right.

Lin Sicheng pointed at the screen: "Teachers, first look at the painting, look at these few old tree roots extending from the cliff edge into the pile of rubble, then look at these blades of grass and light ink dots on the tree roots, then look at the photo, look at the rotten wood in the cracks of these stones, and the green fruit with leaves growing on the rotten wood—then look at the reclining stone by the water in both the painting and the photo—"

A group of people opened their eyes wide, staring intently at the screen, not knowing what to say.

When they looked at the painting before, they felt the lines were too simple; they only knew there were branches and roots among the stones, and a few small fruits on the grass on the roots, but they didn't know what they were.

Now, comparing it to the photo, anyone with a little knowledge of traditional Chinese medicine knew: these grasses and fruits on the tree roots and rotten wood were Poria.

The reclining stone mentioned by Lin Sicheng was even more conspicuous: it was in the painting, with only its outline constructed with lines, but one could completely tell it was a large stone.

It was even more present in the photo; the area in front of the stone was empty, and a few reeds grew behind the stone.

Some people also noticed what Lin Sicheng hadn't had time to say: the official road, which was the main road.

It was in the painting, but it had been blurred and half-hidden. It was also in the photo: because the mountain forest was dense, it was almost invisible.

Therefore, these four lines of poetry could perfectly match the paintings in the album and the photos in the atlas: the same chaotic beach, the same Poria grass, and the same reclining stone by the stream.

From this, it can be confirmed that this set of medical books and this album are a set.

Those with faster minds could already follow Lin Sicheng's train of thought and guess what he would say next: these four lines of poetry were the code for a rendezvous.

Rendezvous location: the beach by the river, the pile of rubble where the Poria grows.

Rendezvous time: dusk, when it is nearly dark.

And it specifically warned: do not take the main road, come by the small path, I will be waiting for you on that reclining stone by the water—

Lin Sicheng said that the marginal notes in the Medical Book were coded poems, and the guests were not entirely certain. But they could at least see that the scenery described in the poems corresponded in many places to the objects in the paintings:

Chaotic shoals, tuckahoe, reclining stones, and a small river.

Looking at it this way, there must be some unique connection between this Medical Book and the album leaves—

While secretly pondering, Lin Sicheng clicked the mouse, and the small painting and photograph on the screen were replaced with the second set, which was the Changshenggou Mountain Path.

Lin Sicheng then found another herb-gathering poem from the marginal notes in the Medical Book:

Nine-fold layered peaks to gather purple mushrooms, hidden in the forest by day and galloping at dusk. Ordinary travelers should not come lightly; the dangerous path is best known to the brave.

Without waiting for Lin Sicheng to remind them, the guests below began to compare and discuss among themselves.

First, look at the painting: the main body of the image is layered, continuous mountain ridges, with many fractured cliffs and rugged, uneven rock faces.

There is a road in the mountains: an extremely thin ink line is hidden among the mountain rocks and trees, winding and turning nine times in succession along the mountain's contours. If one looks even closer, one can see several clusters of purple-brown clumped plants drawn at a cliff fissure on the third turn of the mountain road.

Then look at the photograph: the mountain ridges rise in layers, the rocks are weathered and broken, and a large amount of rubble is piled at the foot of the cliff. The winding mountain path follows the folds of the mountain body, turning back and forth; it is both narrow and cramped, embedded in the slope of the mountain.

At the position of the third turn, patches of purple-brown shrubs grow in the cracks of the cliff's split rocks.

Looking at the poem again, it also matches the painting and the photograph: first, the nine-layered mountain ridges; second, the rubble at the foot of the cliff; third, the winding mountain road; and fourth, the purple shrubs at the third turn.

Combining these, if one follows Lin Sicheng's line of thought, the poem should be a coded message for directions, and the painting should be a map.

Don't say it, it's actually quite reasonable.

After about five or six minutes, the sound of discussion grew quieter, and Lin Sicheng changed to the third set of images: Niangziguan Pass. Then he found another herb-gathering poem from the Medical Book:

Twin cliffs stand opposite, the medicine is hard to explore; entering the mountain pass directly, the road is unbearable. If you wish to seek the spirit herb, look for a side path; do not head toward the majestic pass and fight the stone mist.

This painting is even more obvious: whether looking at the painting or the photograph, both show a pass formed by two towering, steep cliffs facing each other. The rock walls are steep and covered with shrubs and weeds; they are visible but impossible to climb, easy to defend and difficult to attack.

If one looks closely, one can find a cluster of light ink dots behind the mountain ridge on the left side of the small painting. At first glance, one might think it is a large rock, but it is actually a secret path hidden behind the mountain.

A few blades of grass grow sparsely beside the stone, and one of them has a small flower blooming; this is the entrance to the secret path.

Because of the angle, the photograph did not capture the mountain path, but it is recorded in great detail in the documents: behind the mountain ridge on the left side of the pass city, there exists a secret path for mountain folk, which was a detour used by messengers and guerrilla units back then to bypass the pass.

Combining this with the herb-gathering poem, this painting is still a map for directions.

Then the fourth one, Xiangtangpu Canyon: High winds in the ravine to gather bitter ginseng, lie low before the rocks and do not linger long. Although it is said there are many spirit herbs here, one worries about the greed of tigers and leopards if one stays too long.

The fifth one, Dongyangguan Outer Branch Valley: One source divides into two creek bends, one side to watch the clouds and one to transport the elixir. To gather herbs, one must understand the meaning of the fork in the road; do not let your tracks be seen by others.

These two are also not difficult to understand: hiding troops in ambush, secret paths for launching surprise attacks, all the way to the sixteenth one: Gather astragalus at Xiangyang Gaowu, where the spring is sweet and the trees are lush, suitable for living. The one in charge of the mountains dwells here, and all affairs, complex and numerous, are directed from here.

Look at the photograph: this is the Hebei Shexian Chian Village Terrace, which is also the 129th Division Headquarters of Liu and Deng, and even more so, the military Command Center of the Jin-Ji-Lu-Yu Border Region.

If connected with the herb-gathering poem, one doesn't even need to translate it; just look at the last two lines: The one in charge of the mountains dwells here, and all affairs, complex and numerous, are directed from here—

Isn't what the poem is saying: that the headquarters of the border region is located here, and all military and intelligence affairs, big and small, are gathered and handled at this stronghold?

Do you dare to say this is a coincidence?

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