Guests from every direction had gathered together in the Sanyue River Pavilion, and the whole scene was genuinely a little absurd, yet no one could quite find the words to say so.
Cui Tai, the Pavilion’s proprietor, stepped up onto the raised platform and offered a slight bow — his way of greeting everyone present at once.
“Today truly sees honored guests assembled under one roof,” he said with a smile. “The Sanyue River Pavilion has never known such lively business. First and foremost, I thank all of you for gracing us with your presence. And naturally, I must also offer a word of thanks to Master Songming, who has been many years departed — for I know my own limitations well enough to understand that the one with the power to bring all of you here today is not me. Only Master Songming commands such reverence.”
Laughter rippled through the hall. Cui Tai had a way with words.
“As all of you already know,” Cui Tai continued with a smile, “this item is the one and only seal Master Songming carried with him throughout his life, barely ever leaving his person.”
He looked toward the Xie family representatives and said: “Elder Xie should be able to confirm this.”
Xie Qingdeng, seated below the platform, gave a measured nod. “After Master Songming passed away, my family took special care to have this seal interred alongside him in his grave. Yet who could have foreseen that years later his tomb would be broken into by grave robbers? The seal surfaced in the capital some twenty years ago, and then vanished again without a trace.”
Xie Qingdeng said, “My family expended considerable effort searching for the seal, intending to return it to Master Songming’s tomb, but never succeeded.”
He rose and pressed his hands together in a formal salute. “Should I obtain this treasure today, I will personally dispatch men to carry it to our ancestral estate and bury it once more in the Linglan Garden, in Master Songming’s tomb.”
The entire hall rose to its feet in applause.
Among everyone present, the Xie family’s connection to Master Songming ran deepest — after his retirement, he had lived in their Linglan Garden for over a decade.
Cui Tai returned the salute. “Elder Xie’s integrity does you honor.”
Xie Qingdeng said, “This is simply what my family owes.”
Cui Tai said, “On that note — whenever a truly exceptional object comes to light, there is always some context to provide. As it happens, the gentleman who has been holding Master Songming’s seal is also deeply fond of his calligraphy and has collected examples of it. Those pieces have also been brought forward for auction today.”
A chorus of astonished murmurs swept through the hall.
There was the seal — and Master Songming’s authentic calligraphy as well?
These appetizers, at any other venue, would have been the crown jewels of the collection.
“Of course, the authentic works of Master Songming known to be in circulation are a finite number, and they have been seen less and less in recent years. The gentleman who holds the seal has stated plainly that these pieces are all forgeries — he has examined them himself many times and is fully certain they are not genuine.”
The crowd collectively exhaled with relief. So the build-up had led to counterfeits.
“Bring up the first piece.”
At Cui Tai’s instruction, two young women stepped onto the platform and unrolled a scroll. Cui Tai introduced it with a smile: “You will all recognize this as Master Songming’s Lingao Rubbing, written during his later years when he resided at the Linglan Garden — which is why the piece takes its name from the garden’s character for ‘ling.'”
Xie Qingdeng immediately rose to his feet. He looked visibly shaken. “May I approach for a closer look?”
Cui Tai said: “By all means.”
Xie Qingdeng strode up onto the platform and stood before the piece, examining it with painstaking attention. The longer he looked, the more his expression shifted.
From below, Cui Chenglan of the Cui family asked: “Elder Xie, you’ve been looking for quite a while now. Have you formed an opinion? Can you determine who made the forgery, and from what era?”
“This…” Xie Qingdeng said. “If I’m not mistaken… this appears to be the authentic original of Master Songming’s Lingao Rubbing. The piece looks new — the paper itself is new — yet the brushwork, every stroke and every character, could not have been produced by imitation. I believe this may be the work of a highly skilled restorer who transferred the Lingao Rubbing onto new paper.”
Up in the private room on the second floor, Li Chi sprayed his mouthful of tea clean across the room.
Xiahou Zuo shot him a look, then wiped his own face.
After dabbing his mouth in embarrassment, Li Chi said: “That’s complete nonsense. How does he say that with a straight face?”
Xiahou Zuo said, “You already know it’s nonsense. The truth is that severely damaged antique scrolls can indeed be transferred to new paper by sufficiently skilled craftsmen — that part is true. But yours was written directly onto the paper. No one could miss that.”
Li Chi said, “Exactly. So why is he making things up?”
Xiahou Zuo said, “Have you ever sold forgeries of Master Songming’s calligraphy before?”
Li Chi said, “What do you think?”
Xiahou Zuo said, “Fair enough… You were destitute when you first arrived in Jizhou… Still, looking at Elder Xie’s manner and tone, he doesn’t seem to be joking.”
Li Chi said, “Am I looking at a fortune I never made.”
Xiahou Zuo said, “I’m starting to wonder too — could it actually be that what you write is genuinely indistinguishable from Master Songming’s authentic work?”
Li Chi said, “What’s so surprising about that? Following my master around the jianghu, the Ascent to Sparrow Terrace rubbing was about the only thing worth reading. When I had nothing to do, I’d copy it dozens or hundreds of times a day. It’s just a matter of being practiced.”
Up on the platform, Xie Qingdeng said, “I genuinely cannot be certain at this point. The paper is new, but the brushwork is beyond question.”
Cui Chenglan of the Cui family stepped up to the platform: “Let me have a look.”
The Wang family representative came up next. Others followed, some bringing with them specialists they had brought along for exactly this kind of assessment. A group gathered around the piece and examined it with the closest possible scrutiny, their expressions growing more and more unsettled the longer they looked.
Li Chi sighed. “If only I’d written them a bit more carefully.”
Xiahou Zuo said, “What do you mean?”
Li Chi said, “When I’m imitating Master Songming’s calligraphy, the more casually I write — the less seriously I take it — the closer the resemblance. When I actually try, the likeness falls apart. If I’d been more deliberate, they could have told at a glance.”
Xiahou Zuo thought about it and couldn’t quite follow the logic.
After a while longer, Xie Qingdeng looked toward Cui Chenglan and said: “It should be a forgery. The paper is too new.”
Cui Chenglan nodded. “A forgery, then.”
The two men looked at each other, then both stepped down from the platform together. Those around the piece continued to examine it, some declaring it genuine, others insisting it was a fake, the dispute unresolved.
Cui Tai asked: “Elder Xie, what would you say this piece is worth?”
Xie Qingdeng said, “Although a forgery, it captures nine-tenths of the spirit of the original. This must be the work of a master craftsman who simply prefers not to be named — understandable, since forgery is not the most honorable trade.”
He considered for a moment. “Two hundred taels. I think that is a reasonable figure.”
Up on the second floor, Li Chi was stupefied. He turned to Xiahou Zuo. “I dash something off carelessly and it fetches two hundred taels?”
Xiahou Zuo sighed. “Looked at that way, you did pass up a road to riches. If you’d started earlier, you might have made a fortune — or you might have gotten yourself killed.”
Li Chi felt the people downstairs could only be described as having more money than sense.
“Elder Xie.”
Someone in the crowd rose, speaking in an odd tone. “I have examined this carefully, and this calligraphy is absolutely Master Songming’s authentic work. As for why the paper appears so new — Elder Xie himself already knows the reason. Elder Xie even stated it a moment ago.”
This elderly man stroked his beard with an air of authority. “The finest rice paper can be separated into nine layers. Master Songming’s brushwork drives through the paper with such force that, while not all nine layers would qualify as authentic, three or four certainly would. Each peeled layer is as thin as a cicada’s wing, which when skillfully affixed to new paper and dried preserves the original calligraphy. This technique has been employed many times. The Master Craftsmen of Dachu’s Imperial Treasure Hall once separated one of Master Zhou’s calligraphic works into four layers — would you say all four of those are forgeries? The Master Craftsmen did it so that Master Zhou’s calligraphy could be preserved and passed down, one piece becoming four. One of those four was presented by the late Emperor to the Xie family. Elder Xie could not have forgotten.”
Xie Qingdeng’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly.
The old man pressed on: “When Elder Xie keeps insisting it is a forgery, the only purpose is to drive down the price so he can buy it himself.”
A wave of muffled gasps swept through the crowd.
This elderly man was an authentication expert brought by the Wang family. The Wangs’ influence in Jizhou could not match the Xies’, but they had no reason to fear them either.
Up in the private room on the second floor, Li Chi looked like he’d been struck by lightning.
Xiahou Zuo felt much the same way — collateral damage from Li Chi.
Xie Qingdeng said, “Whether this piece is genuine or forged — I think you see clearly enough, Elder Yu. What scheme of your own brings you to conduct yourself this way?”
The old man said, “I simply wish to prevent a treasure from being obscured in dust, and to spare Master Songming this dishonor. This is clearly an authentic work, and Elder Xie dares to offer two hundred taels — a price that is an insult in itself. Who has ulterior motives here is perfectly plain.”
Up on the second floor, Li Chi could no longer sit by and watch. He had traveled the jianghu with his master and done his share of deception, but this — tarnishing the reputation of a great man from the past — was not something he could allow to continue.
He grabbed a piece of gauze, wrapped it around his face, walked to the second-floor railing, and called down: “This calligraphy is in fact a forgery.”
Every face in the hall turned up toward Li Chi. Who was this?
The old man asked: “And who are you?”
Li Chi answered: “I am the owner of these scrolls. They are genuinely fakes. I cannot deceive all of you.”
A chorus of jeers broke out. Even the old expert was momentarily speechless.
The owner of the scrolls had personally appeared to declare them forgeries — surely the old man couldn’t keep insisting otherwise.
A moment later, the old man let out a cold snort. “Some people collect things, mistake fakes for genuine, genuine for fake, and think themselves terribly clever.”
Li Chi thought: Good heavens.
He was about to say these pieces were ones he himself had written, but Xiahou Zuo’s voice came quietly from behind him: “Think before you speak. If you say you wrote them and then write something in front of everyone, and they see the pieces are genuinely indistinguishable — what becomes of the Ascent to Sparrow Terrace rubbing in President Gao’s possession?”
Li Chi thought: Good heavens again.
If this got out, wouldn’t President Gao start wondering whether the Ascent to Sparrow Terrace piece was itself a fake?
Li Chi froze for a moment, at a complete loss for what to say.
Just then, someone strode in through the door with great steps, laughing as he entered. “All these years in the northern territories, the one person who has encountered Master Songming’s authentic calligraphy most often is President Gao of the Four-Page Academy. The Ascent to Sparrow Terrace rubbing is preserved in President Gao’s home.”
The moment this person walked in, every person in the hall rose to their feet.
Cui Tai was still on the platform and couldn’t step down in time — he bent low immediately. “Greetings, Your Highness!”
Every person in the hall bowed deeply, offering their most reverent courtesies.
“Greetings, Your Highness.”
Prince Yu walked forward, saying as he went: “No need for all that formality, rise. I’ve come today to broaden my horizons as well. Now — about the matter of Master Songming’s authentic calligraphy, I think it best that President Gao himself have a say.”
He gestured ahead: “President Gao, won’t you take a look?”
President Gao Yuanzhang nodded. “As Your Highness commands.”
Up on the second floor, Xiahou Zuo covered his face with one hand. “It’s finished. You’ve just deceived your own future grandfather-in-law.”
Li Chi said, “What is a ‘future grandfather-in-law’?”
Xiahou Zuo said, “Your future father-in-law’s father — is that not a grandfather-in-law?”
He thought for a moment, then added: “Father-in-law is also called ‘father-in-law sir,’ so that would make him your ‘grandfather-in-law sir.'”
Li Chi considered this. ‘Grandfather-in-law sir’ — there was something oddly endearing about that.
Xiahou Zuo said, “This is going to be hard to walk back. The people downstairs are saying your calligraphy is genuine, and you’re saying they’re all blind. But if your grandfather-in-law sir also says it’s genuine — what do you tell him?”
Li Chi said, “President Gao is not someone who goes blind so easily.”
Up on the platform, President Gao’s eyes were widening. He examined the piece with painstaking care — again and again — and after a long while said: “Why does this genuinely look like Master Songming’s calligraphy?”
Xiahou Zuo covered his face again. “I was wrong… When I said earlier that you were treating all the distinguished figures and men of letters of Jizhou City as fools, I thought it was arrogance on your part. Now I see I simply don’t understand this world…”
—