The doctor looked at the bronze artifacts in the glass case, which appeared even more eerie under the lights, his eyes full of question marks.
Well, actually he didn’t know why he had wasted his precious day off at a museum. But glancing at Tang Yuan, who was full of enthusiasm, the doctor resignedly wiped his face and continued patiently looking at the antiques in the glass cases whose purposes he couldn’t identify.
Because it was the weekend, the museum wasn’t as deserted as usual—many parents had brought their children to visit. Although the little rascals were trying their best to restrain their noisy impulses, the museum no longer had its usual tranquility, with whispered conversations and laughter everywhere.
The doctor wandered around the bronze artifacts hall for a while, thoroughly beaten down by a bunch of unrecognizable characters and bronze vessels of unclear purpose. He felt no different from an illiterate person—all those years of education had been for nothing. He straightened his back with a sigh and scanned around with his eyes. In just that moment of distraction, Tang Yuan had disappeared somewhere, so he followed the crowd to the next exhibition hall.
This hall was a special exhibition called “Ten Miles of Red Dowry,” said to showcase jewelry and accessories of ancient women organized from the museum’s collection. The doctor had even less interest in these, but they were at least prettier than bronze artifacts. He leisurely appreciated them, taking photos with his phone when he saw something beautiful. He had already confirmed that this museum allowed photography as long as no flash was used. There were many people like him, and some even brought DSLRs to take pictures, looking quite professional.
Actually, claiming to come to the museum to experience Chinese culture and learn about ancient history, almost everyone just took a quick look and moved on. So by comparison, the woman in a blue dress who had been standing motionless in front of one glass case for a long time was particularly conspicuous. When the doctor walked beside her, he discovered she was staring intently at a blue-green golden hairpin.
This golden hairpin was shaped like a bird’s nest, with the head and eyes inlaid with pearls, but the body part was blue-green. That blue-green color, made of unknown material, gleamed with an eerie blue light under the illumination and changed colors as people moved—from lake blue to navy blue, like a living creature.
Although the doctor didn’t understand jewelry, the moment he saw this golden hairpin, he was deeply attracted and couldn’t help stopping in front of the display case like the young woman.
The nameplate in the glass case read: Tang Dynasty Bird-shaped Kingfisher Feather Hairpin.
Kingfisher feather? The doctor felt this term was somewhat familiar and was just about to search it on his phone when he felt someone pat his shoulder twice.
“Why didn’t you come find me when you arrived?” A deliberately lowered voice spoke with a hint of surprise.
The doctor turned around and found that the person greeting him was a middle-aged man over forty. He had well-defined facial features with gold-rimmed glasses perched on his high nose bridge. Years had carved several wrinkles on his forehead, adding to his scholarly temperament. He was leaning on a walking stick, apparently having some mobility issues.
“Ah! It’s you!” The doctor was stunned for a moment before recognizing this uncle as the good samaritan who had specially brought the runaway Tang Yuan back in the middle of the night. At that time, they hadn’t had much chance to talk and properly thank him before this uncle was dragged away by his companions. Meeting him now, the doctor was delighted, thinking about how to thank him properly—at the very least, he should treat this uncle to a meal. But before he could speak, the woman in blue who had been staring at the kingfisher feather hairpin also turned around and greeted the uncle: “Hello, Director.”
Huh? Director? This uncle was actually the director of this museum? The doctor immediately felt respectful. For someone like him who wasn’t good at liberal arts, a museum director was the epitome of cultural people—completely out of reach! Just as he was thinking of chatting more, he noticed the director’s gaze behind his glasses becoming strange as he looked at him.
“Your girlfriend?” the director asked in surprise. The woman in blue was startled and quickly waved her hands: “We don’t know each other.”
“Oh, oh!” The director coughed lightly in embarrassment.
The doctor also felt quite awkward. He turned his head to look at the woman in blue beside him. She appeared to be just over twenty years old, with fair skin and delicate, pleasant features. However, there was a red mark about two centimeters long near her right eye that at first glance looked like scratch marks from something, but the doctor could tell at once that it wasn’t a scar.
“This is a birthmark,” the woman in blue explained with a smile, clearly accustomed to such gazes. Her features were exquisite, and this smile made her even more graceful and charming, but the birthmark at the corner of her eye was extremely conspicuous, marring her beauty and making people feel regretful.
“Um… I’m a doctor. Do you need me to recommend our hospital’s cosmetic surgery department?” the doctor suggested with professional habit. With current medical technology development, never mind a birthmark—even changing an entire face wouldn’t be a problem.
The woman in blue touched the red mark at the corner of her eye and politely declined with a smile: “Thank you, but I don’t want to remove this birthmark.” She clearly didn’t want to continue this topic. She looked at the kingfisher feather hairpin in the display case, then at the director, and finally gathered courage to ask: “Director, is this kingfisher feather hairpin really from the Tang Dynasty? Although its style is dignified and grand, fitting Tang Dynasty aesthetics, isn’t kingfisher work generally only able to be preserved for about a hundred years? And this kingfisher feather hairpin’s colors are so vivid—isn’t it really from the Ming or Qing periods or even more recent times, made in imitation of Tang Dynasty designs? After all, antiquarian reproduction has been popular in every dynasty…”
Clearly this question had been on her mind for a long time. Once she started speaking, she couldn’t help but speed up, becoming excited.
The director waved his hand, indicating they should follow him out of the exhibition hall to chat. Although the doctor felt it was quite rude to suggest cosmetic surgery to someone, he was very curious about the woman’s question and didn’t leave, stepping forward to follow them out.
“The kingfisher feather craft can be traced back to the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, when it was called ‘yupo’—the technique of embedding insect wings onto gold and silver. Later, as the yupo craft developed into specific categories, the technique of embedding kingfisher feathers was specifically called ‘kingfisher work,'” the director explained in such detail mainly to accommodate the doctor who didn’t understand. “Most existing kingfisher feather ornaments are from the Ming and Qing periods, also because earlier kingfisher feather items basically couldn’t be preserved. Moreover, these surviving kingfisher pieces on display have undergone later restoration—recoloring or re-embedding kingfisher feathers.”
“I see.” The woman in blue sounded somewhat melancholy upon hearing this, clearly thinking the kingfisher feather hairpin in the display case had also been restored.
“But this kingfisher feather hairpin hasn’t been renovated,” the director said proudly, pushing up his glasses and chuckling. “This hairpin is placed in a separate display case precisely because it was like this when excavated. Moreover, since it came to light, countless scholars have questioned its age and origin. After carbon-14 dating was done, no one said anything more.”
“Carbon-14 dating?” Seeing an unfamiliar term, the doctor asked studiously.
“It’s an identification method that uses carbon-14’s half-life to determine the age of objects. For any carbon-containing material, by measuring the remaining radioactive carbon-14 content, its age can be determined. This method can date organic materials. The pearls and kingfisher feathers on this hairpin have been confirmed to be Tang Dynasty artifacts without doubt. It even received more precise calculations—it might be from the late Tang period,” the director explained patiently. His leisurely discourse attracted many children to gather around.
“Grandpa, if kingfisher work is so beautiful, why don’t we have it anymore?” a little girl raised her hand to ask. She had also visited the Ten Miles of Red Dowry exhibition and quite liked that kingfisher feather hairpin, even pulling her mother’s hand and making a fuss, saying she wanted one too. Her mother had ruthlessly refused, saying it was completely unavailable for purchase, leaving her unhappy.
“Because kingfisher work requires using kingfisher feathers. To make one hairpin, you have to kill such beautiful little birds—isn’t that cruel?” The director was even more patient with children, softening his tone considerably.
The little girl frowned, tilted her head and thought hard for a moment, then said in her childish voice: “But we only need the feathers. Couldn’t we cut them like sheep—shearing wool periodically?”
“Because all kingfishers in the kingfisher family are very sensitive. When in contact with humans, they become highly stressed and unable to eat, or may even frantically fly around and die from collisions, let alone being domesticated and bred. They are beautiful wild animals that cannot be domesticated, unlike cattle and sheep.” This time it wasn’t the director who answered, but the woman in blue. Her gaze was distant, as if imagining something or reminiscing about something.
“I see…” The little girl puffed her cheeks, somewhat unconvinced but unable to say anything. Seeing this, the director gently instructed: “The ‘Huainanzi’ states: ‘Emperor Shihuang coveted the rhinoceros horns, elephant tusks, kingfishers, and pearls of Baiyue, so he sent General Wei Tu Yu with 500,000 mixed troops to attack Baiyue.’ Does everyone know what these four treasures—rhinoceros horns, elephant tusks, kingfishers, and pearls—are?”
“Rhinoceros horns! Elephant tusks!”
“I know kingfishers—that green kind of jade! Mommy really wants one; she even fought with Daddy about it last time!”
“What are pearls? Are they pearls?”
The little girls and boys around immediately competed to answer, while parents stood nearby smiling. This museum regularly held various lectures, and on weekends there were many volunteers ready to teach children historical knowledge, so they all liked bringing their children here to play.
“You guessed rhinoceros horns, elephant tusks, and pearls correctly! Actually, these four treasures were all taken from animals! The word ‘kingfisher’ at that time referred to kingfisher birds. Kingfishers have both green and blue-green colors on their bodies, so they were called ‘feicui’ (kingfisher). It wasn’t until the Ming Dynasty, when Burmese jade was introduced to China, that ‘feicui’ took on its current meaning as jadeite, because it possessed two colors similar to kingfishers,” the director was quite adapted to this teaching mode, stroking the walking stick in his palm while speaking leisurely. “So the ancient term ‘pearl and kingfisher’ referred to ornaments like that kingfisher feather hairpin, inlaid with pearls and kingfisher feathers. Such a pearl hairpin could only be worn by empresses and princesses in ancient times because it was too rare and precious. More luxurious than today’s diamond rings—not something money alone could buy.”
“The Tang Dynasty took pride in extravagance. Starting with Princess Anle, even ‘woven skirts’ became popular. Do you know what woven skirts are? Actually, they’re commonly called ‘hundred-bird skirts’—not using bird feathers for headdresses, but for entire skirt hems. That luxury was simply unbelievable.”
The little girls and boys listening couldn’t help but widen their eyes. If one kingfisher feather hairpin was so beautiful, how much more so would an entire skirt be!
“By the Song Dynasty, Emperor Taizu put a stop to such corrupt practices. When Zhao Kuangyin saw his daughter wearing clothes decorated with kingfisher feathers, he advised against it and issued an edict banning kingfisher decoration. Even Emperor Huizong—the emperor in history who lost the Song Dynasty’s territory because of the Flower and Rock Convoy—reaffirmed the ban on kingfisher decoration during his reign.”
“Emperor Huizong probably didn’t dislike luxury, but rather loved painting birds and couldn’t bear to harm bird lives for their feathers,” the woman in blue said mockingly, then added sadly, “But edicts are edicts—privately, people still hunted kingfishers to make kingfisher work.”
“During the Southern Song period, Emperor Gaozong took the lead in destroying over 600 kingfisher feathers tribute from Jiaozhi and issued a decree: ‘Using gold in clothing is a crime, and kingfisher work is the same.’ If gold-inlaid and kingfisher feather clothing and jewelry weren’t destroyed, once discovered, the penalty was two years of exile. But by the Ming and Qing periods, with commercial prosperity and the sprouting of capitalism, edicts could no longer control these luxury goods, and kingfisher work flourished.”
“But kingfishers were also limited in number, and with humans hunting them year after year, they gradually became scarce. However, market demand continued to expand, so craftsmen later replaced kingfisher feathers with blue silk or glass. By the late Qing and early Republican periods, blue enamel techniques completely replaced kingfisher work. And now, kingfishers are nationally protected animals, so kingfisher work has completely become history.”
The director finished the development history of kingfisher work in just a few sentences, his expression also becoming complex. No one wanted crafts passed down for thousands of years to be lost. But times change, and not everything can exist forever in the world—this is also the pleasure and significance of archaeology.