Chapter 84: Masterpieces

Lin Sicheng stared without blinking, reading almost word by word.

The more he looked, the more it resembled the original, the more it resembled... but how could that be?

Zhao Mengfu was the eleventh-generation descendant of Zhao Kuangyin; after the fall of the Southern Song Dynasty, he surrendered to the Yuan, and his reputation in later generations was poor, labeled a "calligraphy slave" and "base sycophant."

Yet even so, Zhao Mengfu still ranked among the top ten calligraphers of antiquity. Therefore, his works could no longer be described as merely "precious."

Let's count them: including museums abroad, domestic museums, and private collections, there are fewer than twenty confirmed authentic works.

But conversely, if he were asked to judge by the handwriting what the difference was between this piece and the one in the Taipei Palace Museum, Lin Sicheng truly could not tell.

Because resemblance is only one aspect; it also lies in the brush force, the brush intent, the discipline, and the structural strength.

To put it in plain language: even if it is an imitation, it was done by a master whose brushwork does not lose to Zhao Mengfu. And they surely held the piece from the Taipei Palace Museum and practiced copying it no fewer than a hundred times before putting brush to paper.

So, this is truly outrageous: after the Yuan Dynasty, how many people could compare to Zhao Mengfu in brush strength?

The more he looked, the more confused he became, so Lin Sicheng simply skipped the calligraphy and looked at the paper quality of the painting core.

The painting paper clearly had traces of oxidation and fading, but one could still tell it was high-quality Yuan Dynasty mulberry paper: the color was still bright, and the paper quality was still smooth.

When illuminated with a high-intensity flashlight, gold foil appeared faintly between the lines of text, along with a subtle, elusive mud-gold dragon and cloud pattern.

Mulberry paper as the base, dyed yellow for the background, cloud-dragon as the pattern, and sprinkled gold to add luster?

Lin Sicheng was stunned, letting out a "Ha": Mingren Hall Paper?

This term only appeared during the Qianlong era, referring to the Mingren Hall of the Yuan Dynasty palace where this type of paper was originally produced.

And whether it was the genuine Yuan Dynasty product or a Qing Dynasty imitation, it only served three purposes: writing Imperial Edicts, providing the Emperor with paper to paint, write, or copy the Heart Sutra, and providing the Emperor with paper to paint, write, or copy the Heart Sutra...

But that is secondary; the key is that this stuff has long been extinct.

To date, only the Palace Museum holds one sheet: the Qianlong-era imitation of the Mingren Hall gold-painted auspicious cloud pattern powder-wax paper.

That's right, there is only this one sheet in the whole world; there are no others, whether they be paintings, calligraphy, Buddhist sutras, or even Imperial Edicts. This means the one in the Palace Museum is a bona fide, one-of-a-kind unique piece.

And this was even an imitation from the Qianlong era; even Qianlong himself had never seen the authentic Yuan Dynasty Mingren Hall paper.

But here, one had suddenly appeared?

Add to that the handwriting, the mounting... haha, Yuan Imperial commission, authentic Zhao Mengfu... believe it or not, if you sent this to a provincial museum, it could serve as the treasure of the collection?

The hell of it is, the more he looked, the more authentic it seemed, the more authentic it seemed...

But the logic doesn't hold: if it were genuine, this Teacher Ma wouldn't need to act like a rascal here.

If it were genuine, Poly would definitely have already started promoting it: Yuan Dynasty Imperial Commission · Zhao Mengfu's "Sanskrit Seed Character Heart Sutra" Special Auction...

Even though it is only 2007 now, the starting bid would be at least ten million or more. If the price were under a hundred million ten years from now, Lin Sicheng would dare to kowtow a hundred times.

So, something is definitely wrong.

With a high-intensity flashlight in one hand and a magnifying glass in the other, he looked at it almost inch by inch.

First the color: dyed with Amur cork, the surface burnished. Then looking at the edge of the painting paper: it was more than twice as thick as ordinary paper.

Yuan Dynasty Wang Yun's "Autumn Stream Collection": yellow in color and thick as a board, burnished on both sides... does it match?

Lin Sicheng held the flashlight at an oblique angle:

Gold foil like scattered stars, with the cloud-dragon beneath appearing and disappearing... Yuan Dynasty "Record of the Zhizheng Era," Volume 3, "Inner Palace Paper": decorated with mud-gold cloud-dragon patterns, with gold sprinkled in between... it matches again?

Huh, no... what matches?

The "Inner Palace Paper" records "gold sprinkled between the dragon patterns," but this sheet has "gold foil on top, dragon patterns underneath?"

His spirits lifted, and Lin Sicheng shone the flashlight onto the side. Instantly, a flash of light crossed his eyes.

It wasn't the golden light of the gold foil or the mud-gold dragon pattern, but the light reflection one gets when a lamp shines on glass.

The question is, where did it come from?

Using a high-magnification lens, he aimed it at the side again and Lin Sicheng peered closely for a few moments. Then, his eyes slowly widened: between the gold foil and the cloud pattern, there seemed to be a film?

Extremely thin, seemingly there yet not there, infinitesimal...

Lin Sicheng's eyelids twitched, as if enlightened, and his heart suddenly cleared: the paper is an imitation!

It is absolutely an imitation.

In true Yuan Dynasty Inner Palace Paper, the gold foil must be on the same layer as the dragon pattern; there would never be a phenomenon where the foil and the pattern are separated.

If they are separated, then it must be imitation paper.

To put it simply, Inner Palace Paper has an extremely high technical threshold: to stick the gold foil to the paper, one must apply wax to the raw paper. But wax is water-resistant, so to avoid reducing the ink-absorbing ability, one must repeatedly burnish the paper surface with jade to make the wax blend into the paper fibers.

But the imitators didn't have this technology; they couldn't make the wax film hold the gold foil without being water-resistant. To put it bluntly: the dragon pattern couldn't be painted on.

There was no other way, so they had to find another path: first outline the dragon pattern on the raw paper, then apply wax, then sprinkle the gold foil, and finally burnish it.

Paper made this way would form a wax film between the foil and the pattern.

Looking at the paper color again: the edges of the paper were brownish, and the fibers showed flocculent breakage... roughly estimating, it should be about four to five hundred years old, around the mid-to-late Ming Dynasty.

In this way, it amounts to a Ming Dynasty imitator using Ming-imitation Inner Palace Paper to imitate an authentic Zhao Mengfu, and then adding a Yuan Dynasty mounting?

And the handwriting was even imitated to ninety percent accuracy?

Never mind ancient times, even today, relying solely on the naked eye, how many appraisers could tell?

But Poly could.

Lin Sicheng really wanted to raise a middle finger: there is always someone better than the best.

It is also because of this that Poly wouldn't accept it, because once this item was auctioned off as an imitation, it would 100% be sold as an authentic Zhao Mengfu.

Never mind Teacher Ma acting like a rascal; even if she hanged herself here, Poly would never ruin its own reputation.

But the question arises again, why does Ye Anning still insist?

Because of the calligraphy!

As the saying goes, it is hard to paint the skin of a tiger and harder to paint its bones; this refers to copying.

In all forged calligraphy, if one can imitate the handwriting of the original to fifty percent similarity, one can be called an expert; if one can imitate it to seventy percent, that is surely a master.

But no matter how high the skill, it is only a resemblance in form, and only the skin is being imitated.

This piece, however, is different: whether in the brushstrokes, the intent, the structural strength, or the inner essence, it has actually imitated eighty or ninety percent of the original.

If the original author were to write it again himself, he would likely only reach this level. This also goes to show that the imitator's mastery of calligraphy is not a bit lower than that of Zhao Mengfu.

What is even more crucial is that even as an imitation, it manages to possess its own systematic approach. How many such masters were there from the Yuan to the Ming dynasties?

That is why Ye Anning felt unwilling to give up.

Lin Sicheng was also unwilling to give up: such masters would certainly not exceed the number of fingers on two hands. He only needed to exert a little effort to pierce through that layer of window paper.

He closed his eyes and recalled the calligraphers of the Ming dynasty he had impressions of.

Skilled in the Zhao style, with vigorous brushwork, possessing both form and spirit.

Inheriting the elegant Wind of the Zhao style, while blending the strength of the Tang and the archaic simplicity of the Jin.

And it contains only the Wind and bone, forming a school of its own...

"Ding," a lamp seemed to light up in his mind: Yu He, Lu Shen, Jin Cong, Shen Du... and even, Wen Zhengming, Dong Qichang?

Lin Sicheng suddenly opened his eyes.