Chapter 83: Zhao Mengfu's

The woman's goal was very clear, and her momentum was quite strong.

The colleagues were all very restrained, but when their gazes swept over Ye Anning, the corners of their mouths still curled into a hint of mocking amusement.

Such excitement—they must have been watching for many days now, right?

Wang Qi Zhi could no longer be bothered to tangle with that woman; he frowned and said, "Ye Anning, where is the item?"

"I'll go get it!"

Ye Anning turned and left, and before long, she came out holding a long box, which she placed on the coffee table.

The teacher and student exchanged a glance; Lin Sicheng sat down and took the tool bag from Wang Qi Zhi's hand.

It was somewhat abrupt, and the onlookers were confused.

The one who said he would solve the problem was Ye Anning's uncle, and the one who claimed to understand Appraisal was also him, but why was the young man following behind the one sitting down?

He was quite good-looking and quite calm; being stared at by so many pairs of eyes, he wasn't nervous in the slightest.

But he was too young, at most around twenty.

If he were ten years older, the woman might have been intimidated. But his handsome features, the slightly milky greenness between his brows and eyes, plus this posture of feigned seriousness, just felt a bit funny.

The woman raised her eyebrows, her tone carrying a bit of teasing: "The little brother is really quite delicate!"

Lin Sicheng didn't speak; he unzipped the bag.

The woman was relentless: "Are you Assistant Ye's younger brother, or her boyfriend?"

Lin Sicheng still didn't speak; he frowned and glanced at her.

His expression was very calm, and his gaze wasn't sharp, but the woman felt that those two glances were like two blades, stabbing straight over.

The woman had asked for a snub; she curled her lips, her expression seeming to say: You haven't even grown your hair out yet, and you're learning to look at antiques?

In fact, it wasn't just her; the colleagues watching had mostly similar expressions: so-called identification relies first on experience, second on eyesight, and third on knowledge reserves. And which of these does not require years and months of accumulation?

Among them were many veterans with over ten years in the industry, such as the Department Head and the Supervisor. Not to mention this young man in front of them, they hadn't even seen Ye Anning's uncle that many times.

Curiosity is curiosity, but it was impossible to stop working and just stand around watching the excitement. After shooing the staff away, only the two leaders and that Teacher Ma remained at the scene.

Lin Sicheng was unhurried, taking out his tools one by one, and then opened the box.

But just as he lifted the lid, he was taken aback: How strange, it was actually a piece of Sanskrit calligraphy, and a horizontal scroll at that.

Unfortunately, there was only half of it; it was a fragment.

A layman would look at it and think it was neither fish nor fowl, seeming plausible yet wrong. But those in the know all understood that many famous masters in history had transcribed Sanskrit Buddhist scriptures, and many authentic works had been preserved.

Earlier, there was the Sanskrit-Han bilingual manuscript of the *Diamond Sutra* by Zhang Jizhi, known as one of the "Five Schools of Southern Song".

A bit later, there was the Sanskrit-Han bilingual album of the *Heart Sutra* handwritten by Zhao Mengfu of the Yuan Dynasty; both of these pieces are collected at the Taipei Palace Museum.

Even later, there was the Sanskrit-Han bilingual transcript of the *Diamond Sutra* commissioned by Zhu Di and handwritten by Xie Jin. Further on, there were the *Supreme Mantra*, *Great Sun Sutra*, and *Heart Sutra* in the Imperial Brush of Qianlong.

These latter pieces are all kept at the Palace Museum.

There are also many preserved among the people: Xianyu Shu and Deng Wenyuan of the Yuan Dynasty, the Wen Zhengming family of the Ming Dynasty, Tang Yin, Shen Zhou, and Fu Shan, Wang Duo, and Liu Yong of the Qing Dynasty, and so on and so forth.

There are even more painters: Bada Shanren, Shitao, Guanxiu, Juran... almost none of the painters who had been monks were spared.

As for whether it is true or false, it can only be a matter of opinion.

At a rough glance, the whole piece didn't have a single Chinese character, only Sanskrit, which was truly rare.

After scanning it roughly, Lin Sicheng picked up the Magnifying Glass and the Flashlight: the old rule, to date a painting, first look at the mounting.

But at just one glance, Lin Sicheng's eyelids couldn't help but jump: Dark Pattern Heaven and Earth Backing?

This was a mounting style unique to the Yuan Dynasty: "Heaven and Earth" refers to the borders on both sides of the painting paper; the upper layer in the Song Dynasty used brocade, the lower layer used silk, and they were heavy in color and pigment.

During the Yuan Dynasty, it was changed to damask, advocating simplicity and elegance, so the mounting would not overshadow the painting.

Ming Dynasty culture inherited from the Song and changed it back, mostly using brocade and silk. Occasionally they used damask, but it was heavy in color and pigment. It wasn't until the mid-to-late period when the Suzhou Mounting style flourished that plain-colored damask and silk were adopted, but they mostly had bright patterns, which had a stronger visual impact.

And this piece used dark-patterned plain damask.

The so-called "backing" was the same: both Song and Ming Dynasty mounting emphasized thin mounting, and if the craftsmanship was up to par, the backing usually only used two layers of paper: one layer for the base and one layer for the cover.

Only in the Yuan Dynasty, due to the influence of religious elements and the degradation of papermaking and mounting techniques, the backing was extremely thick, jokingly called "mountain-backing".

Like this piece, it was backed with a full four layers of paper.

Of course, whether it's the Heaven and Earth or the backing, it only refers to the style; in modern times, one can naturally imitate it however one wants.

The problem was, the more Lin Sicheng looked, the more he felt that the damask and paper on this were all the real thing.

Looking closer: the silk used was fine silk from Jiangnan, soft and long; the damask quality was fine, dense, and uniform, the texture was light, thin, and smooth, and the weaving method was double-warp and double-weft, with high density and wear resistance.

The background pattern was the "eight-petaled lotus flower" unique to the Mongol Yuan, interspersed with scrolling grass patterns, with a symmetrical and regular layout.

There were obvious signs of oxidation, some fading, but the silk was still supple... in other words, these strips on the scroll were Yuan Dynasty blue damask.

But then another problem arose: the Yuan Dynasty had a strict hierarchy, and craftsmanship had degraded; folk damask and silk were mostly undyed, and if dyed, they only used common red, green, or black. Only a few palace items would be dyed in this indigo color, which used extremely expensive pigments and extremely complex techniques.

And having been stored for hundreds of years, the texture was still supple and the damask color was still bright; there was only one possibility: this was Yuan Dynasty tribute damask.

It wasn't that the common people weren't allowed to use it, but it was outrageously expensive; those who could afford it must have been powerful and wealthy.

Turning it over to look at the backing: four layers of backing, all using mulberry paper dyed with Amur cork tree bark.

Likewise, unique to the Yuan Dynasty.

Looking at the only remaining roller: Ha... Ivory?

Although the roller ends were expensive, the decorative style was extremely simple, only carved with sparse beaded patterns... which also fit the characteristics of the Yuan Dynasty: precious materials as the core, simple and elegant patterns as the surface.

But it wasn't strange; if it were an ordinary wooden roller or a Gold-gilding roller, it wouldn't match those three strips of blue damask.

Finally, Lin Sicheng scraped a bit of paste from the broken seam to taste: wheat flour added with Ming Alum to prevent moths, mixed with a small amount of honey and sugar, which could both enhance stickiness and facilitate removal and restoration... this formula was also something that only existed in the Yuan Dynasty.

Therefore, whether it was the damask, the backing paper, the roller ends, or the adhesive materials and even the mounting style, everything pointed to the mid-to-late Yuan Dynasty.

And the overall style was unified, the chronological characteristics were obvious, and there were no traces of modern imitation or forgery.

In common parlance, it looked right in every way.

But then again, if this calligraphy really came from a famous Yuan Dynasty master, Poly Auction would have no reason not to accept it.

Thinking about it this way, is there a problem with the heart of the painting?

Lin Sicheng turned the thought over in his mind and switched on his flashlight.

The content was the Heart Sutra, the full name being the Maha Prajnaparamita Heart Sutra.

It was in the standard Sanskrit seed script; in the doctrines of Esoteric Buddhism, seed characters are the "heart seals" of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, symbolizing the origin of the universe.

To put it simply: they come with their own magical power.

It was also written exceptionally well: it possessed the ancient and mysterious feeling of Sanskrit, yet did not lose the rigorous structure and clear layout characteristic of Han Dynasty regular script.

What was rare was how it drew on the strengths of many masters, being rounded, vigorous, and beautiful, with a coherent spirit and rhythm; furthermore, it faintly revealed a hint of being soft on the outside but firm on the inside, containing a charm of transcendent elegance...

Seeing this, Lin Sicheng subconsciously frowned: exquisite brushwork and harmonious composition were only one aspect; the key was, this brush technique, this character posture... why did it feel so familiar?

But then again, how many pure Sanskrit Heart Sutras had he even seen?

After a brief moment of recollection, Lin Sicheng's pupils suddenly constricted: the Sanskrit-Han bilingual album of the Heart Sutra handwritten by Zhao Mengfu of the Yuan Dynasty, currently treasured at the Taipei Palace Museum?

He closed his eyes, then opened them abruptly, his eyes gleaming: the two Heart Sutras, the handwriting was almost exactly the same...