Chapter 71: Intangible Cultural Heritage: An Unexpected Official Certification

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Lin Xuan frowned slightly.

The surrounding photographers and onlookers fell silent, one after another raising their mobile phones to record. This book is first published on Chase Books — look for Daily Read Novels, 𝒕𝒕𝒌𝒔. 𝒕𝒘 super convenient, providing you with an error-free, properly ordered chapter reading experience.

A top expert providing on-site anti-counterfeit guidance — this is a rare explosive highlight.

"When you just performed the Wanfu Salute and stepped back, your left heel touched the ground first."

Zhou Mingyuan said with certainty: "Based on textual research of the surviving fragments of the Old Tang Book: Records of Etiquette, when Tang dynasty women performed the retreat, the right foot was dragged, sliding back three inches."

"The way you retreated just now was a military step. Used in court etiquette, it appears crude."

He shook his head, seemingly regretting that tiny flaw on this fine jade.

Xiao Sizi took a step forward.

"Grandpa, what you read was the outer court's officially compiled ritual text, wasn't it?"

Zhou Mingyuan was stunned.

"What I'm wearing is a Twelve-Break Skirt with Interlocking Patterns."

Xiao Sizi extended two fingers, pinched her pomegranate-red silk skirt hem, and gently spread it outward.

"The hem trails the ground. If one slides back with the right foot as you said, the toe of the shoe will catch the inner lining of the skirt corner."

Xiao Sizi released her grip, and the hem fell back down.

"Tripping in public is a grave breach of decorum."

"In the eighth year of Zhenguan, the Court of Palace Affairs revised the Inner Palace Etiquette Regulations."

"All those wearing long skirts to perform the Wanfu Salute were to change to planting the left heel first to pin down the skirt corner, then withdrawing with the right foot."

"This is called the 'Fixed Skirt Step,' and it circulated only within the inner palace."

"The outer court's official texts do not record it."

Zhou Mingyuan's eyes widened.

His mind frantically ran through the physical movements.

Sliding the right foot back with the toe lifted would indeed precisely catch the seam of a long skirt.

Whereas planting the left heel first to pin down the fabric would perfectly avoid this embarrassment.

For decades.

The entire Tang dynasty historical academic community had been preaching from the text, treating the ritual books compiled by outer court officials as gospel.

They had never considered that the men who compiled those books simply did not understand the practical hindrance of a woman's long skirt trailing the ground.

Zhou Mingyuan drew in a sharp breath, feeling a chill crawl over his scalp.

He did not get angry or embarrassed, nor did he put on the airs of an expert to argue back.

This man, past seventy years of age and a towering figure in the domestic history academic community, performed a standard ninety-degree bow before countless cameras.

"I have learned something. This old man has studied Tang history for forty years, yet was trapped by dead texts his whole life."

"Hearing the young lady's words today is like a bucket of cool water poured over my head. Modern textual research does indeed contain enormous oversights."

Camera flashes flickered wildly once more.

A top expert bowing in apology to a five-year-old girl. This scholarly spirit of respecting objective facts without regard to seniority or credentials shocked everyone present.

……

Great Tang, Imperial Academy.

The hall full of great Confucian scholars had originally been sitting cross-legged behind their food trays, watching the later-era experts on the Sky Screen.

When Zhou Mingyuan began instructing Xiao Sizi on her footwork, Kong Yingda, the Chancellor of the Imperial Academy, stroked his grizzled beard and laughed out loud.

"Insolent whelp — read a few surviving fragments and dares to instruct my Great Tang's senior princess on how to be a Great Tang person? This is what they call showing off one's axe at the door of Lu Ban."

The surrounding Confucian scholars clapped in unison, sneering expressions on their faces.

However, the next moment.

When they saw that revered old scholar of later eras, after hearing Xiao Sizi's explanation.

Offered no rebuttal, made no attempt to preserve his own dignity.

But solemnly bent at the waist and bowed deeply to a five-year-old girl.

Kong Yingda's laughter cut off abruptly.

The sneer on his face froze, slowly transforming into an indescribable gravity.

Kong Yingda stood up, walked to the center of the hall, his voice dry:

"For the sake of a single word 'truth,' one can even cast aside old face and status."

He turned his head, looking at the hall full of Great Tang's elite.

"In our daily scholarship, to fight for the orthodoxy of a single scriptural meaning, we band together and attack the dissenters."

"For the sake of rules handed down by our ancestors, even when we know we are wrong, we must save face and stubbornly hold on."

"Compared with these people of later eras, we are stuck in our ways, no better than frogs at the bottom of a well!"

"The moral fiber of later eras puts Kong to shame!"

The hall full of great Confucian scholars composed themselves one after another.

……

Modern times, Convention Center.

Zhou Mingyuan straightened up and looked at Lin Xuan.

Excitement flickered in his eyes.

"This child is a born cultural treasure." Zhou Mingyuan turned and shouted at an assistant behind him, "Go! Get that blank certificate with the national emblem steel seal from my car!"

The assistant dared not delay, turned and pushed through the crowd, sprinting off.

In less than five minutes, the assistant ran back, sweating profusely, clutching a red certificate with gold-embossed lettering.

Zhou Mingyuan snatched the certificate, flipped it open, and drew a fountain pen from his chest pocket.

Leaning over a display case nearby, he wrote with the flourish of a dragon and snake.

After finishing, he pulled a private seal from an inner pocket and stamped it heavily at the signature line.

Zhou Mingyuan closed the certificate and handed it to Lin Xuan with both hands.

"This is a special approval certification issued by the National Intangible Cultural Heritage Protection Center," Zhou Mingyuan said solemnly. "From today on, little Li Mingda is the sole 'Intangible Heritage Tang Dynasty Etiquette Young Inheritor' in the country."

"She is qualified to enjoy national-level cultural subsidies and protection."

Lin Xuan took the heavy red certificate and opened it for a glance.

A bright red national emblem was printed at the top, followed by Zhou Mingyuan's private seal and the official stamp of the organizing committee below.

Lin Xuan's breathing quickened slightly.

He did not want any subsidies, nor any empty fame.

This certificate had come at the perfect time.

Under the adoption regulations of the modern Civil Code,

if an adopter fails to meet the rigid standards for age or family structure,

adopting an abandoned infant of unknown origin as a special exception is harder than climbing to the sky.

But if that abandoned infant possesses national-level special talents,

and the adopter can provide top-tier resources and channels for upbringing,

the scales of assessment by the Civil Affairs Bureau and judicial departments will tilt.

Lin Xuan now held Tang Dynasty Gold Ingots ready for conversion, proving absolute economic strength.

Combined with this officially stamped certificate, endorsed by the academic giant, designating her as an "Intangible Heritage Inheritor,"

it proved that Xiao Sizi would receive the fullest possible cultivation and protection of her talents within this family.

"Thank you, Professor Zhou," Lin Xuan said sincerely as he closed the certificate.

He tightened his grip on Xiao Sizi's hand.

Xiao Sizi's legal status was now secure.

The early autumn wind swept through the street, sweeping a few yellowing fallen leaves toward the curb.

Inside a large supermarket in the city center,

Lin Xuan pushed a metal shopping cart; its wheels rolled over the polished tiles, making a faint rustling sound.

Xiao Sizi held the edge of the cart basket with both hands, standing on tiptoes to look inside.

The Mid-Autumn Festival was approaching.

The central main aisle of the supermarket had been temporarily converted into a festival zone.

Piles of red and gold gift boxes were stacked into several small hills; loose mooncakes filled row after row of long shelves.

Lotus seed paste, red bean paste, five-kernel, and even various new-style fruit fillings were on dazzling display.

Lin Xuan picked up a few boxes of traditional mooncakes from a time-honored brand and tossed them into the cart basket.

Xiao Sizi walked slowly along the shelves, her gaze sweeping over the colorful modern packaging.

Reaching the corner, she stopped.

She lifted a round tin box from the bottom shelf.

The box was somewhat heavy; she held it in her arms, looking down to examine it carefully.