Chapter 104: Peeling the Cocoon to Repair

This is not a GG; it is a recommendation for the treasure book "The Frail Little Sizi Knocks on the Door, and I Became the God of Ten Thousand Dynasties."

The next morning.

Morning light pierced through the blinds, casting mottled spots on the floor.

Lin Xuan, standing before the workbench, had not slept all night, his eyes bearing traces of fatigue from staying up late.

He held a transparent Glass spray bottle in his hand.

The bottle contained amber-colored, slightly acidic glutinous rice juice.

His finger pressed down on the nozzle.

A fine mist sprayed forth. Read smoothly every day on ttks. tw, read as you please.

It evenly covered the back of the damaged painting.

Lin Xuan set down the spray bottle.

He pulled over a high stool and sat down.

He crossed his arms over his chest and waited silently.

The second hand of the wall clock ticked.

It emitted a regular ticking sound.

Half an hour passed.

Lin Xuan put on white degreased cotton gloves and picked up a medical-grade fine pair of tweezers with his right hand.

He bent down, pressing his cheek close to the edge of the scroll.

The tip of the tweezers probed extremely slowly into the gap between the painting's core and the backing life paper.

His fingers exerted force, lifting slightly upward.

A faint sticky sensation traveled to his fingertips.

Then, the sticky sensation vanished.

The Alum Cowhide Glue used to seal the back of the Tang Dynasty inner court, under the combined effect of the specially formulated pH level and fermentation enzymes.

turned into a pool of soft mud that had lost its stickiness.

Lin Xuan used the tweezers to grasp the edge of the life paper and roll it backward.

That layer of life paper, soaked through with modern industrial super glue, was like a building that had lost its foundation.

Along with the chemical resins that had penetrated to the bottom, it was peeled off in one single piece.

The fibers of the Tang Dynasty prepared silk remained on the workbench, unscathed.

Lin Xuan exhaled a cloud of turbid breath.

The most perilous step had broken the deadlock.

This game of dead chess had been revitalized.

Nine o'clock in the morning.

Xiao Sizi sat on a wooden chair beside the workbench.

A rectangular Duan Inkstone lay before her.

Beside it sat several mineral fragments the size of fingertips.

Some were a deep, dark blue, others a dull red.

"The painters in the Jiaofang said this Azurite was a tribute from the Western Regions."

"It must be smashed and ground bit by bit."

Xiao Sizi picked up a blue mineral fragment and placed it in the groove of the inkstone.

She picked up a wooden pestle and pressed it against the mineral.

She exerted force with her wrist, pressing down and grinding.

The mineral shattered, turning into coarse granules.

Lin Xuan used a dropper to draw up a little clear water and dripped it into the inkstone.

Xiao Sizi switched to a smooth grinding stone.

She pressed down on the granules, drawing circles along the bottom of the inkstone.

A rustling friction sound echoed through the room.

The granules became finer and finer, gradually dissolving in the clear water to form a pool of rich, clear cyan-blue liquid.

"This color is the only one that won't look out of place with Tang paintings."

Xiao Sizi stopped her hands, glancing at the part of the scroll where the clothing folds had fallen off.

"The colors squeezed out of your modern tubes have too much fire; they cannot cover the antiquity of the thousand-year-old paper."

Now came the final step, and also the most crucial one.

Lin Xuan picked up a fine brush made of goat hair.

He dipped the brush tip into the inkstone, soaking it full of Azurite.

Then he handed the brush to Xiao Sizi.

"Sizi, my foundation in painting is not as good as yours, and only you understand Tang Dynasty brush and ink techniques better."

"Next, you will complete the line additions according to my instructions; is that alright?"

"Mm!"

Xiao Sizi nodded heavily and took the fine brush.

She stopped at the place on the painting paper where lines were missing, waiting for Lin Xuan to give the command.

After spending these days together, the two had reached a point where they could read each other with just a glance.

Combined, they naturally appear as one person.

The brush tip followed the trajectory of the originally remaining lines, moving with the center tip.

The lines were uniform in thickness, round and upright, with obvious square, hard bone strength at the turns.

A typical Tang Dynasty technique: Iron Wire Outline.

The broken meridians of the scroll, under the coordination of ancient mineral pigments and traditional brushstrokes, were reconnected inch by inch. Full-color restoration, seamless.

Time passed until the seventh day, afternoon.

A black Mercedes-Maybach stopped by the street outside the studio.

The car door opened.

Zhao Ming, the owner of Ya Zhai, got out first.

He wore a front-opening Tang suit; the two walnuts he had been playing with before were now polished to a glossy shine.

The nouveau riche Boss Qian followed behind, his gold necklace reflecting in the sunlight.

Beside the two men walked an elderly man with graying hair, wearing gold-rimmed glasses.

A famous painting and calligraphy Appraiser in the industry: Lao Li.

The three pushed the door open and entered the studio.

The wind chimes made a crisp clashing sound.

Lin Xuan sat beside the tea table on the first floor, carefully sipping new tea.

In the center of the workbench lay a long, rectangular object, covered by a piece of pure white cotton cloth.

"Boss Lin, the seven-day deadline has arrived."

Zhao Ming walked to the tea table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

The walnuts rubbed against each other in his palm, making a "click-click" sound.

He glanced at the white cloth on the workbench, and a cold sneer curled his lips.

"Has that Tang Dynasty fragment been reborn, or has it become a pile of shredded paper?"

Zhao Ming's tone carried an unmistakable mockery.

"If it was accidentally torn, Boss Qian has the penalty note right on him."

Boss Qian patted his bulging briefcase.

Accompanied by a burst of loud laughter.

He didn't care whether the painting was ruined or not.

Zhao Ming had privately promised that if they brought Lin Xuan down, Ya Zhai would give him two pieces of Ming Dynasty Official Kiln Porcelain at a discounted price.

Inside and out, he stood to profit.

Lin Xuan set down his teacup and walked to the workbench.

The table was covered by a white cloth.

Without any unnecessary words, Lin Xuan suddenly whipped off the white cloth.

The walnuts Zhao Ming was playing with in his hand stopped.

The smile on Boss Qian's face froze in place.

On the workbench lay unfolded a Silk Painting of Court Ladies, brimming with ancient charm.

The originally blackened and curled edges had been trimmed extremely flat.

The newly mounted life paper adhered smoothly to the back of the painting heart.

The sudden mold spots and water stains on the painting had been completely washed away.

Most crucially, the broken lines of the clothing folds and the detached patches of Malachite and Azurite had been restored into a seamless whole.

There was not the slightest sense of incongruity from modern pigments.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Zhao Ming blurted out.

He rushed a few steps to the workbench, staring fixedly at the scroll's surface.

He knew better than anyone the power of that layer of chemical glue.

Even the restoration masters of the Forbidden City, facing such industrial resin that had penetrated the fibers of the thousand-year-old mature silk, would have a headache for months and dare not easily wield a knife.

On what basis could Lin Xuan peel it off within a week?

"Old Master Li, please take a look."

Zhao Ming stepped aside, his voice revealing a hint of panic and frustration.

"See if this painting has had its base burned and replaced by chemical solvents!"

The white-haired elderly man stepped forward.

He pulled a jewelry-grade magnifying glass with a high-brightness LED light strip from his Tang suit pocket.

Lao Li bent down, his face almost touching the scroll.

The magnifying glass was brought close to the edge of the silk cloth.

The light illuminated the woven warp and weft threads.

Lao Li moved inch by inch along the edge toward the painting heart.

Searching for burn holes left by industrial solvents corroding the fibers, searching for broken thread marks left by a blade forcibly scraping.

Ten minutes passed.

Only Lao Li's heavy breathing remained in the studio.

Lao Li straightened up.

He turned off the magnifying glass's power light.

He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his aching eyes.

"An extraordinary skill! I never thought I'd live to see such a masterful restoration technique with my own eyes."

Lao Li sighed and pointed at the painting's center.

"No signs of chemical solvent scorching, the old glue was peeled away completely, and even the bottom layer of silk threads remain intact."

"And the azurite used for color retouching." Lao Li looked at Lin Xuan. "Not tube-based chemical pigment—this is genuine natural mineral ground by hand."

"The iron wire outline strokes fully embody Tang dynasty style. I can't find a single flaw."

Zhao Ming's walnut stopped turning in his hand.

The smile on Qian Laoban's face froze in place.

On the workbench lay an ancient-style Silk Painting of Court Ladies.

The originally blackened and curled edges had been trimmed with perfect precision.

The newly mounted backing paper clung snugly to the back of the painting's center.

The sudden mildew stains and water marks on the surface had been completely cleaned away.

Most crucially, the broken folds of the robes and the detached patches of malachite and azurite had been restored seamlessly.

There was not the slightest hint of modern pigment's discordance.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Zhao Ming blurted out.

He rushed a few steps to the workbench and stared fixedly at the painting's surface.

He knew better than anyone the power of that chemical adhesive.

Even the Palace Museum's master restorers, faced with that industrial resin seeping into the fibers of a thousand-year-old silk, would hesitate for months before daring to lift a blade.

How could Lin Xuan peel it off in just one week?

"Master Li, please take a look."

Zhao Ming stepped aside, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Look at this painting—was the backing burned and replaced with chemical solvent?"

The white-haired elder stepped forward.

He pulled from his Tang-style robe pocket a jeweler's magnifier with a high-brightness LED light strip.

Lao Li bent down, his cheek nearly touching the painting.

The magnifier pressed close to the silk's edge.

The light illuminated the interwoven warp and weft threads.

Lao Li slowly moved the magnifier from the edge toward the painting's center.

Searching for burn holes left by industrial solvents, searching for broken threads from forced scraping with a blade.

Ten minutes passed.

The studio was filled only with Lao Li's heavy breathing.

Lao Li straightened up.

He turned off the magnifier's power light.

He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his aching eyes.

"An extraordinary skill! I never thought I'd live to see such a masterful restoration technique with my own eyes."

Lao Li sighed and pointed at the painting's center.

"No signs of chemical solvent scorching, the old glue was peeled away completely, and even the bottom layer of silk threads remain intact."

"And the azurite used for color retouching." Lao Li looked at Lin Xuan. "Not tube-based chemical pigment—this is genuine natural mineral ground by hand."

"The iron wire outline strokes fully embody Tang dynasty style. I can't find a single flaw."

Zhao Ming's walnut stopped turning in his hand.

The smile on Qian Laoban's face froze in place.

On the workbench lay an ancient-style Silk Painting of Court Ladies.

The originally blackened and curled edges had been trimmed with perfect precision.

The newly mounted backing paper clung snugly to the back of the painting's center.

The sudden mildew stains and water marks on the surface had been completely cleaned away.

Most crucially, the broken folds of the robes and the detached patches of malachite and azurite had been restored seamlessly.

There was not the slightest hint of modern pigment's discordance.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Zhao Ming blurted out.

He rushed a few steps to the workbench and stared fixedly at the painting's surface.

He knew better than anyone the power of that chemical adhesive.

Even the Palace Museum's master restorers, faced with that industrial resin seeping into the fibers of a thousand-year-old silk, would hesitate for months before daring to lift a blade.

How could Lin Xuan peel it off in just one week?

"Master Li, please take a look."

Zhao Ming stepped aside, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Look at this painting—was the backing burned and replaced with chemical solvent?"

The white-haired elder stepped forward.

He pulled from his Tang-style robe pocket a jeweler's magnifier with a high-brightness LED light strip.

Lao Li bent down, his cheek nearly touching the painting.

The magnifier pressed close to the silk's edge.

The light illuminated the interwoven warp and weft threads.

Lao Li moved inch by inch along the edge toward the center of the painting.

He searched for burn holes left by industrial solvents corroding the fibers, and for broken silk traces left by a blade forcibly scraping.

Ten minutes passed.

Only Lao Li's heavy breathing remained in the studio.

Lao Li straightened up.

He turned off the power light of the magnifying glass.

He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his sore eye corners.

"A master skill! I never thought I'd have the chance in my lifetime to see such clever restoration technique with my own eyes."

Lao Li sighed and pointed at the center of the painting.

"No burn marks from chemical solvents, the old glue has been removed completely, and even the bottom silk threads are preserved intact."

"And that Azurite used for color restoration." Lao Li looked at Lin Xuan, "It's not tube-wrapped chemical paint, but genuine natural mineral ground down."

"The brush force of this Iron Wire Outline has fully grasped the Tang Dynasty painting style. This old man can find no flaw."

Classic quotes from "The Sickly Little Sizi Knocking on the Door, I Became the God of Ten Thousand Dynasties" appeared frequently, seeking resonance.

The walnuts Zhao Ming was turning in his hand stopped.

The smile on Boss Qian's face froze in place.

On the worktable lay spread a Silk Painting of Court Ladies full of ancient charm.

The originally blackened and curled edges had been cut extremely flat.

The newly mounted life paper adhered smoothly to the back of the painting center.

The sudden mold spots and water stains on the painting surface had been washed away completely.

Most crucially, the broken lines of the clothing folds and the fallen Malachite and Azurite color blocks were patched so seamlessly they became one.

There was not the slightest sense of incongruity from modern paint.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Zhao Ming blurted out.

He ran a few steps to the worktable and stared dead at the surface of the scroll.

He knew better than anyone the power of that layer of chemical glue.

Even the restoration masters of the Forbidden City, facing that industrial resin that had penetrated the fibers of the thousand-year-old cooked silk, would have a headache for months and dare not easily pick up a knife.

On what grounds did Lin Xuan peel it off in one week?

"Old Master Li, please take a look."

Zhao Ming stepped aside, his voice revealing a hint of frustration and anger.

"Look at this painting; has the base been burned and changed by chemical solvents!"

The white-haired old man walked forward.

He took out a jewelry-grade magnifying glass with a high-brightness LED light strip from his Tang suit pocket.

Lao Li bent down, his cheek almost touching the scroll.

The magnifying glass moved close to the edge of the silk cloth.

The light illuminated the warp and weft interwoven silk threads.

Lao Li moved inch by inch along the edge toward the center of the painting.

He searched for burn holes left by industrial solvents corroding the fibers, and for broken silk traces left by a blade forcibly scraping.

Ten minutes passed.

Only Lao Li's heavy breathing remained in the studio.

Lao Li straightened up.

He turned off the power light of the magnifying glass.

He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his sore eye corners.

"A master skill! I never thought I'd have the chance in my lifetime to see such clever restoration technique with my own eyes."

Lao Li sighed and pointed at the center of the painting.

"No burn marks from chemical solvents, the old glue has been removed completely, and even the bottom silk threads are preserved intact."

"And that Azurite used for color restoration." Lao Li looked at Lin Xuan, "It's not tube-wrapped chemical paint, but genuine natural mineral ground down."

"The brush force of this Iron Wire Outline has fully grasped the Tang Dynasty painting style. This old man can find no flaw."

The walnuts Zhao Ming was turning in his hand stopped.

The smile on Boss Qian's face froze in place.

On the worktable lay spread a Silk Painting of Court Ladies full of ancient charm.

The originally blackened and curled edges had been cut extremely flat.

The newly mounted life paper adhered smoothly to the back of the painting center.

The sudden mold spots and water stains on the painting surface had been washed away completely.

Most crucially, the broken lines of the clothing folds and the fallen Malachite and Azurite color blocks were patched so seamlessly they became one.

There was not the slightest sense of incongruity from modern paint.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Zhao Ming blurted out.

He ran a few steps to the worktable and stared dead at the surface of the scroll.

He knew better than anyone the power of that layer of chemical glue.

Even the restoration masters of the Forbidden City, facing that industrial resin that had penetrated the fibers of the thousand-year-old cooked silk, would have a headache for months and dare not easily pick up a knife.

On what grounds did Lin Xuan peel it off in one week?

"Old Master Li, please take a look."

Zhao Ming stepped aside, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Look at this painting—was the base burned and replaced with chemical solvents!"

The white-haired elder stepped forward.

He pulled a gem-grade magnifying glass with a high-brightness LED strip from his Tang-style jacket pocket.

Lao Li bent down, his cheek nearly touching the scroll.

The magnifying glass was pressed close to the silk edge.

The light illuminated the interwoven warp and weft threads.

Lao Li moved inch by inch along the edge toward the center of the painting.

Searching for burn holes left by industrial solvents corroding the fibers, searching for broken thread marks left by blades forcibly scraping.

Ten minutes passed.

Only Lao Li's heavy breathing remained in the studio.

Lao Li straightened up.

He turned off the magnifying glass's power light.

He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his sore eye corners.

"A masterful skill! I never thought I'd have the chance in my lifetime to witness such clever restoration technique with my own eyes."

Lao Li sighed and pointed at the center of the painting.

"No burn marks from chemical solvents, the old glue removed completely, even the bottom silk threads are perfectly preserved."

"And that Azurite used for color restoration." Lao Li looked at Lin Xuan, "It's not tube-packaged chemical paint, but genuine natural mineral ground down."

"The brushwork of this Iron Wire Outline fully captures the Tang Dynasty painting style. This old man finds no flaw."

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A white cloth covered the table.

Without unnecessary words, Lin Xuan yanked the white cloth away.

The walnuts Zhao Ming was rolling in his hands stopped.

The smile on Boss Qian's face froze in place.

On the workbench lay a Silk Painting of Court Ladies brimming with ancient charm.

The originally blackened and curled edges were trimmed extremely evenly.

The newly mounted life paper adhered smoothly to the back of the painting center.

The sudden mold spots and water stains on the painting were washed away completely.

Most crucially, the broken clothing fold lines and the fallen-off Malachite and Azurite color patches were restored into a seamless whole.

Not the slightest sense of incongruity from modern pigments.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Zhao Ming blurted out.

He rushed a few steps to the workbench, staring fixedly at the scroll's surface.

He knew better than anyone the power of that layer of chemical glue.

Even the restoration masters of the Forbidden City, facing such industrial resin that had seeped into the thousand-year-old cooked silk fibers, would have headaches for months, daring not to wield a knife lightly.

On what basis did Lin Xuan remove it within a week?

"Old Master Li, please take a look."

Zhao Ming stepped aside, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Look at this painting—was the base burned and replaced with chemical solvents!"

The white-haired elder stepped forward.

He pulled a gem-grade magnifying glass with a high-brightness LED strip from his Tang-style jacket pocket.

Lao Li bent down, his cheek nearly touching the scroll.

The magnifying glass was pressed close to the silk edge.

The light illuminated the interwoven warp and weft threads.

Lao Li moved inch by inch along the edge toward the center of the painting.

Searching for burn holes left by industrial solvents corroding the fibers, searching for broken thread marks left by blades forcibly scraping.

Ten minutes passed.

Only Lao Li's heavy breathing remained in the studio.

Lao Li straightened up.

He turned off the magnifying glass's power light.

He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his sore eye corners.

"A masterful skill! I never thought I'd have the chance in my lifetime to witness such clever restoration technique with my own eyes."

Lao Li sighed and pointed at the center of the painting.

"No burn marks from chemical solvents, the old glue removed completely, even the bottom silk threads are perfectly preserved."

"And that Azurite used for color restoration." Lao Li looked at Lin Xuan, "It's not tube-packaged chemical paint, but genuine natural mineral ground down."

"The brushwork of this Iron Wire Outline fully captures the Tang Dynasty painting style. This old man finds no flaw."

The walnuts Zhao Ming was rolling in his hands stopped.

The smile on Boss Qian's face froze in place.

On the workbench lay a Silk Painting of Court Ladies brimming with ancient charm.

The originally blackened and curled edges were trimmed extremely evenly.

The newly mounted life paper adhered smoothly to the back of the painting center.

The sudden mold spots and water stains on the painting surface were washed away completely.

Most crucially, the broken lines of the clothing folds and the fallen patches of Malachite and Azurite were patched so seamlessly that they became one.

There was not the slightest sense of incongruity from modern pigments.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Zhao Ming blurted out.

He took a few steps to the workbench and stared fixedly at the surface of the scroll.

He knew better than anyone the power of that layer of chemical glue.

Even the restoration masters of the Forbidden City, facing that industrial resin that had seeped into the fibers of the thousand-year-old cooked silk, would have a headache for months and dare not easily wield a knife.

On what grounds did Lin Xuan peel it off within a week?

"Old Li, please take a look."

Zhao Ming stepped aside, his voice revealing a hint of frustration and anger.

"Look at this painting; tell me if the base has been burned and replaced by chemical solvents!"

The white-haired old man stepped forward.

He pulled a jewelry-grade magnifying glass with a high-brightness LED light strip from his Tang suit pocket.

Lao Li bent down, his cheek almost touching the scroll.

The magnifying glass was brought close to the edge of the silk cloth.

The light illuminated the interwoven warp and weft silk threads.

Lao Li moved along the edge bit by bit toward the center of the painting.

Searching for burn holes left by industrial solvents corroding the fibers, searching for traces of broken threads left by a blade forcibly scraping.

Ten minutes passed.

Only Lao Li's heavy breathing remained in the studio.

Lao Li straightened up.

He turned off the power light of the magnifying glass.

He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his sore eye corners.

"A master skill! I never thought I would have the chance in my lifetime to see such clever restoration technique with my own eyes."

Lao Li sighed and pointed at the center of the painting.

"There are no burn marks from chemical solvents; the old glue has been peeled off completely, and even the silk threads at the bottom are preserved intact."

"And that Azurite used for color patching." Lao Li looked at Lin Xuan, "It is not tube-packed chemical pigment, but genuine natural stone ground down."

"The brush force of this Iron Wire Outline has fully grasped the painting style of the Tang Dynasty. This old man can find no flaw."

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The walnuts in Zhao Ming's hand stopped turning.

The smile on Boss Qian's face froze in place.

On the workbench lay spread a Silk Painting of Court Ladies full of ancient charm.

The originally blackened and curled edges were cut extremely flat.

The newly mounted life paper adhered smoothly to the back of the painting center.

The sudden mold spots and water stains on the painting surface were washed away completely.

Most crucially, the broken lines of the clothing folds and the fallen patches of Malachite and Azurite were patched so seamlessly that they became one.

There was not the slightest sense of incongruity from modern pigments.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Zhao Ming blurted out.

He took a few steps to the workbench and stared fixedly at the surface of the scroll.

He knew better than anyone the power of that layer of chemical glue.

Even the restoration masters of the Forbidden City, facing that industrial resin that had seeped into the fibers of the thousand-year-old cooked silk, would have a headache for months and dare not easily wield a knife.

On what grounds did Lin Xuan peel it off within a week?

"Old Li, please take a look."

Zhao Ming stepped aside, his voice revealing a hint of frustration and anger.

"Look at this painting; tell me if the base has been burned and replaced by chemical solvents!"

The white-haired old man stepped forward.

He pulled a jewelry-grade magnifying glass with a high-brightness LED light strip from his Tang suit pocket.

Lao Li bent down, his cheek almost touching the scroll.

The magnifying glass was brought close to the edge of the silk cloth.

The light illuminated the interwoven warp and weft silk threads.

Lao Li moved along the edge bit by bit toward the center of the painting.

Searching for burn holes left by industrial solvents corroding the fibers, searching for traces of broken threads left by a blade forcibly scraping.

Ten minutes passed.

Only Lao Li's heavy breathing remained in the studio.

Lao Li straightened up.

He turned off the power light of the magnifying glass.

He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his sore eye corners.

"A master skill! I never thought I would have the chance in my lifetime to see such clever restoration technique with my own eyes."

Lao Li sighed and pointed at the center of the painting.

"There are no burn marks from chemical solvents; the old glue has been peeled off completely, and even the silk threads at the bottom are preserved intact."

"And that azurite used for color correction." Lao Li looked at Lin Xuan. "It's not tube-packed chemical pigment; it's genuine natural ore ground down."

"The brush force of this Iron Wire Outline has fully grasped the Tang Dynasty painting style. This old man can find no flaw."

A white cloth covered the table.

Without unnecessary chatter, Lin Xuan yanked the white cloth away.

The walnuts Zhao Ming was turning in his hand stopped.

The smile on Boss Qian's face froze in place.

On the workbench lay spread a Silk Painting of Court Ladies brimming with ancient charm.

The originally blackened and curled edges had been trimmed with extreme precision.

The newly mounted life paper adhered smoothly to the back of the painting core.

The sudden mold spots and water stains on the image had been washed away completely.

Most crucially, the broken lines of the clothing folds and the fallen Malachite and Azurite patches had been retouched into a seamless whole.

There was not the slightest sense of incongruity from modern pigments.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Zhao Ming blurted out.

He rushed a few steps to the workbench, staring dead at the scroll's surface.

He knew better than anyone the power of that layer of chemical glue.

Even the restoration masters of the Forbidden City, facing that industrial resin that had seeped into the fibers of the thousand-year-old cooked silk, would have a headache for months, daring not to easily wield a blade.

On what basis did Lin Xuan peel it off in one week?

"Old Master Li, please take a look."

Zhao Ming stepped aside, his voice tinged with a bit of frantic anger.

"Look at this painting; see if the chemical solvents have burned away the base!"

The white-haired elder stepped forward.

He pulled a jewel-grade magnifying glass with a high-brightness LED light strip from his Tang suit pocket.

Lao Li bent down, his cheek almost touching the scroll.

The magnifying glass pressed close to the silk edge.

The light illuminated the interwoven warp and weft threads.

Lao Li moved inch by inch along the edge toward the painting core.

Searching for burn holes left by industrial solvents corroding the fibers, searching for broken thread traces left by a blade forcibly scraping.

Ten minutes passed.

Only Lao Li's heavy breathing remained in the studio.

Lao Li straightened up.

He turned off the magnifying glass's power light.

He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his aching eye corners.

"A master skill! I never thought I would have the chance in my lifetime to see such clever restoration technique with my own eyes."

Lao Li sighed, pointing at the painting core.

"There are no burn marks from chemical solvents; the old glue has been removed completely, and even the bottom silk threads are preserved intact."

"And that azurite used for color correction." Lao Li looked at Lin Xuan. "It's not tube-packed chemical pigment; it's genuine natural ore ground down."

"The brush force of this Iron Wire Outline has fully grasped the Tang Dynasty painting style. This old man can find no flaw."

The walnuts Zhao Ming was turning in his hand stopped.

The smile on Boss Qian's face froze in place.

On the workbench lay spread a Silk Painting of Court Ladies brimming with ancient charm.

The originally blackened and curled edges had been trimmed with extreme precision.

The newly mounted life paper adhered smoothly to the back of the painting core.

The sudden mold spots and water stains on the image had been washed away completely.

Most crucially, the broken lines of the clothing folds and the fallen Malachite and Azurite patches had been retouched into a seamless whole.

There was not the slightest sense of incongruity from modern pigments.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Zhao Ming blurted out.

He rushed a few steps to the workbench, staring dead at the scroll's surface.

He knew better than anyone the power of that layer of chemical glue.

Even the restoration masters of the Forbidden City, facing that industrial resin that had seeped into the fibers of the thousand-year-old cooked silk, would have a headache for months, daring not to easily wield a blade.

On what basis did Lin Xuan peel it off in one week?

"Old Master Li, please take a look."

Zhao Ming stepped aside, his voice tinged with a bit of frantic anger.

"Look at this painting; see if the chemical solvents have burned away the base!"

The white-haired elder stepped forward.

He pulled a jewel-grade magnifying glass with a high-brightness LED light strip from his Tang suit pocket.

Lao Li bent down, his cheek almost touching the scroll.

The magnifying glass pressed close to the silk edge.

The light illuminated the interwoven warp and weft threads.

Lao Li moved inch by inch along the edge toward the painting core.

Searching for burn holes left by industrial solvents corroding the fibers, searching for broken thread traces left by a blade forcibly scraping.

Ten minutes passed.

Only Lao Li's heavy breathing remained in the studio.

Lao Li straightened up.

He turned off the magnifying lamp's power light.

He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his sore eye corners.

"A master skill! I never thought I'd have the chance in my lifetime to witness such ingenious restoration technique with my own eyes."

Lao Li sighed and pointed at the painting's core.

"No scorch marks from chemical solvents, the old glue removed completely, even the bottom silk threads are perfectly preserved."

"And that Azurite used for color restoration." Lao Li looked at Lin Xuan, "It's not tube-packaged chemical paint, but genuine natural mineral ground down."

"The brush force of this Iron Wire Outline fully captures the Tang Dynasty painting style. This old man finds no flaw."

The walnuts Zhao Ming was turning in his hands stopped.

Boss Qian's smile froze in place.

Spread out on the worktable was a Silk Painting of Court Ladies brimming with ancient charm.

The originally blackened and curled edges had been trimmed extremely evenly.

The newly mounted backing paper adhered smoothly to the back of the painting's core.

The prominent mold spots and water stains on the image had been washed away completely.

Most crucially, the broken lines of the clothing folds, the flaked-off Malachite and Azurite color patches, were restored into a seamless whole.

Not the slightest sense of incongruity from modern pigments.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Zhao Ming blurted out.

He rushed a few steps to the worktable, staring dead at the scroll's surface.

He knew better than anyone the power of that layer of chemical glue.

Even the restoration masters of the Forbidden City, facing that industrial resin that had seeped into the fibers of the thousand-year-old prepared silk, would have headaches for months, daring not to wield a knife lightly.

On what grounds did Lin Xuan remove it within a week?

"Old Master Li, please take a look."

Zhao Ming stepped aside, his voice tinged with frustration and anger.

"Look at this painting, see if the base has been scorched and replaced by chemical solvents!"

The white-haired elder stepped forward.

He pulled a jewelry-grade magnifying glass with a high-brightness LED light strip from his Tang suit pocket.

Lao Li bent down, his face almost touching the scroll.

The magnifying glass pressed close to the silk edge.

The light illuminated the interwoven warp and weft threads.

Lao Li moved inch by inch along the edge toward the painting's core.

Searching for burn holes left by industrial solvents corroding the fibers, searching for broken thread marks left by blades forcibly scraping.

Ten minutes passed.

Only Lao Li's heavy breathing remained in the studio.

Lao Li straightened up.

He turned off the magnifying lamp's power light.

He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his sore eye corners.

"A master skill! I never thought I'd have the chance in my lifetime to witness such ingenious restoration technique with my own eyes."

Lao Li sighed and pointed at the painting's core.

"No scorch marks from chemical solvents, the old glue removed completely, even the bottom silk threads are perfectly preserved."

"And that Azurite used for color restoration." Lao Li looked at Lin Xuan, "It's not tube-packaged chemical paint, but genuine natural mineral ground down."

"The brush force of this Iron Wire Outline fully captures the Tang Dynasty painting style. This old man finds no flaw."

The walnuts Zhao Ming was turning in his hands stopped.

Boss Qian's smile froze in place.

Spread out on the worktable was a Silk Painting of Court Ladies brimming with ancient charm.

The originally blackened and curled edges had been trimmed extremely evenly.

The newly mounted backing paper adhered smoothly to the back of the painting's core.

The prominent mold spots and water stains on the image had been washed away completely.

Most crucially, the broken lines of the clothing folds, the flaked-off Malachite and Azurite color patches, were restored into a seamless whole.

Not the slightest sense of incongruity from modern pigments.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Zhao Ming blurted out.

He rushed a few steps to the worktable, staring dead at the scroll's surface.

He knew better than anyone the power of that layer of chemical glue.

Even the restoration masters of the Forbidden City, facing that industrial resin that had seeped into the fibers of the thousand-year-old prepared silk, would have headaches for months, daring not to wield a knife lightly.

On what grounds did Lin Xuan remove it within a week?

"Old Master Li, please take a look."

Zhao Ming stepped aside, his voice tinged with frustration and anger.

"Look at this painting, see if the base has been scorched and replaced by chemical solvents!"

The white-haired elder stepped forward.

He pulled a jewelry-grade magnifying glass with a high-brightness LED light strip from his Tang-style jacket pocket.

Lao Li bent down, his cheek nearly touching the scroll.

The magnifying glass was brought close to the silk edge.

The light illuminated the interwoven warp and weft threads.

Lao Li moved inch by inch along the edge toward the painting's center.

Searching for burn holes left by industrial solvents corroding the fibers, searching for broken thread marks left by blades forcibly scraping.

Ten minutes passed.

Only Lao Li's heavy breathing remained in the studio.

Lao Li straightened up.

He turned off the magnifying glass's power light.

He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his sore eye corners.

"A masterful skill! I never thought I'd have the chance in my lifetime to see such clever restoration technique with my own eyes."

Lao Li sighed and pointed at the painting's center.

"No burn marks from chemical solvents, the old glue removed completely, even the bottom silk threads are perfectly preserved."

"And that Azurite used for color restoration." Lao Li looked at Lin Xuan, "It's not tube-packed chemical paint, but genuine natural mineral ground down."

"The brushwork of this Iron Wire Outline fully captures the Tang Dynasty painting style. This old man finds no flaw."

The walnuts Zhao Ming was rolling in his hand stopped.

Boss Qian's smile froze in place.

On the worktable lay spread a Silk Painting of Court Ladies brimming with ancient charm.

The originally blackened and curled edges had been trimmed extremely smoothly.

The newly mounted backing paper adhered perfectly to the back of the painting's center.

The prominent mold spots and water stains on the image had been washed away completely.

Most crucially, the broken lines of the clothing folds, the fallen-off Malachite and Azurite color patches, were restored into a seamless whole.

Not the slightest sense of dissonance from modern paint.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Zhao Ming blurted out.

He rushed a few steps to the worktable, staring dead at the scroll's surface.

He knew better than anyone the power of that layer of chemical glue.

Even the restoration masters of the Forbidden City, facing such industrial resin penetrating the fibers of a thousand-year-old mature silk, would have headaches for months, daring not to wield a knife lightly.

On what basis did Lin Xuan remove it within a week?

"Old Master Li, please take a look."

Zhao Ming stepped aside, his voice tinged with frustration and anger.

"Look at this painting; was the base burned and replaced by chemical solvents!"

The white-haired elder stepped forward.

He pulled a jewelry-grade magnifying glass with a high-brightness LED light strip from his Tang-style jacket pocket.

Lao Li bent down, his cheek nearly touching the scroll.

The magnifying glass was brought close to the silk edge.

The light illuminated the interwoven warp and weft threads.

Lao Li moved inch by inch along the edge toward the painting's center.

Searching for burn holes left by industrial solvents corroding the fibers, searching for broken thread marks left by blades forcibly scraping.

Ten minutes passed.

Only Lao Li's heavy breathing remained in the studio.

Lao Li straightened up.

He turned off the magnifying glass's power light.

He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his sore eye corners.

"A masterful skill! I never thought I'd have the chance in my lifetime to see such clever restoration technique with my own eyes."

Lao Li sighed and pointed at the painting's center.

"No burn marks from chemical solvents, the old glue removed completely, even the bottom silk threads are perfectly preserved."

"And that Azurite used for color restoration." Lao Li looked at Lin Xuan, "It's not tube-packed chemical paint, but genuine natural mineral ground down."

"The brushwork of this Iron Wire Outline fully captures the Tang Dynasty painting style. This old man finds no flaw."

The walnuts Zhao Ming was rolling in his hand stopped.

Boss Qian's smile froze in place.

On the worktable lay spread a Silk Painting of Court Ladies brimming with ancient charm.

The originally blackened and curled edges had been trimmed extremely smoothly.

The newly mounted backing paper adhered perfectly to the back of the painting's center.

The prominent mold spots and water stains on the image had been washed away completely.

Most crucially, the broken lines of the clothing folds, the fallen-off Malachite and Azurite color patches, were restored into a seamless whole.

Not the slightest sense of dissonance from modern paint.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Zhao Ming blurted out.

He rushed a few steps to the worktable, staring dead at the scroll's surface.

He knew better than anyone the power of that layer of chemical glue.

Even the restoration masters of the Forbidden City would have a headache for months and dare not easily wield a knife against industrial resin that had seeped into the fibers of thousand-year-old silk.

On what grounds could Lin Xuan uncover it within a week?

"Old Li, please take a look."

Zhao Ming stepped aside, his voice revealing a hint of frustration and anger.

"Look at this painting; has the base been scorched and altered by chemical solvents!"

The white-haired elder stepped forward.

He pulled a gem-grade magnifying glass with a high-brightness LED light strip from his Tang suit pocket.

Lao Li bent down, his cheek almost touching the scroll.

The magnifying glass approached the edge of the silk.

The light illuminated the interwoven warp and weft threads.

Lao Li moved inch by inch along the edge toward the center of the painting.

Seeking burn holes left by industrial solvents corroding the fibers, seeking traces of broken threads left by a blade forcibly scraping.

Ten minutes passed.

Only Lao Li's heavy breathing remained in the studio.

Lao Li straightened up.

He turned off the magnifying glass's power light.

He removed his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his sore eye corners.

"A masterful skill! I never thought I would have the chance in my lifetime to see such clever restoration technique with my own eyes."

Lao Li sighed, pointing at the center of the painting.

"There are no burn marks from chemical solvents; the old glue has been removed completely, and even the base silk threads are preserved intact."

"And that Azurite used for color retouching." Lao Li looked at Lin Xuan, "It is not tube-packed chemical paint, but genuine natural mineral ground down."

"The brush force of this Iron Wire Outline has fully absorbed the Tang painting style. This old man can find no flaw."