Chapter 16: Beyond Belief

The evening breeze stirred gently, and a few locust leaves drifted down. Li Zhen reached out to catch one, lightly rolling it between her fingertips as she recalled her mentor’s somewhat excited expression:

Li Zhen, is it sudden? No.

You haven’t yet grasped what it means for a student to apply for a design patent based solely on appearance.

Nor can you comprehend what it means to evoke empathy, to feel the weight of history, the continuation of culture, and the inheritance of civilization from just a few initial sketches...

Li Zhen acknowledged Lin Sicheng’s brilliance but found it hard to empathize—was Professor Shang being too sentimental, judging by just a handful of sketches?

Still, she had to complete the task her mentor assigned.

She pondered how to relay the message to Lin Sicheng without making Professor Shang seem overly eager.

Then she saw Xiao Yuzhu.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a slender shadow of the graceful figure. A loose ponytail hung over her shoulder, concealing her delicate collarbone.

Her neck stretched forward, lips slightly parted, a satisfied smile spreading across her face with a soft “uh”.

Had she overeaten?

Li Zhen glanced behind her. “Where’s Lin Sicheng?”

“Oh, Senior Sister Li? He had something come up and was taken away by Professor Lin.”

Xiao Yuzhu rubbed her belly, strolling over slowly. “They ordered too much food, and you didn’t reply to my messages—I’m about to burst!”

Li Zhen froze a moment, then pulled out her phone:

Senior Sister, why aren’t you here yet? I’m starving.

Should I and Lin Sicheng start without you?

Come quickly, Senior Sister, Lin Sicheng had to leave, and I can’t finish it all alone.

Senior Sister, you’re killing me—I’m so full...

Li Zhen looked helpless.

…

An old Santana sat outside the school gate, the window cracked open slightly, tendrils of smoke curling up.

Lin Sicheng glanced over and opened the rear door.

“Sit up front!”

Well then.

He obediently peeked in and climbed into the passenger seat.

Lin Changqing’s expression was strange—hesitant, resigned, as if struggling to say something.

After a long moment, he sighed deeply. “Forget it!”

“Forget what, Professor Liu?”

“Come on... widowers and spinsters getting together is natural. Besides, you’re not even sixty yet...”

“Smack!” Interrupted by a tap on the head.

Lin Sicheng cradled his head, smiling awkwardly. “I think it’s quite fitting!”

“You don’t know a damn thing!”

How could he not?

Grandfather’s whole later life revolved around two words: eldest grandson.

The key was the family fortune was substantial. If given, he worried he was too young to manage it. If not, and if the old man had a second spring of life, troubles and disputes would inevitably arise...

Not to mention Professor Liu’s children.

What, give it to Dad?

He was even more unreliable. That’s why Grandpa hesitated so much.

With a change of thought, Lin Changqing started the car and turned onto the main road.

“After retiring, I worked as a consultant for several companies. Today we’re going to one of them. Be a bit smooth when you get there.”

“Understood, Grandpa!”

Lin Changqing nodded, choosing his words carefully. “If you don’t want to pursue graduate studies or work in an institution like your father, you can join the company after graduation. Of course, it’s up to you whether to join or not—today is just to let you have a look...”

Lin Sicheng paused, exhaling silently.

He had been too stubborn before, causing things to become tense, making even his grandfather speak cautiously.

“I understand. Don’t worry, Grandpa.”

“Good!”

Lin Changqing focused on driving while Lin Sicheng gazed out the window as the cityscape blurred by.

Actually, that very night he returned home, he had outlined a rough plan:

Initially, accumulate capital while building networks and contacts, simultaneously doing light research on cultural relic restoration.

Once funds are sufficient, decide whether to venture into high-tech. If energetic enough, consider entrepreneurship.

For early accumulation, what was more suitable than dealing in antiques?

Nothing at all.

With sharp eyes, ample experience, and cross-disciplinary knowledge, there was no need to open a new path and complicate things.

Lost in thought, the car slowed, entering a parking lot.

The building was modest—five stories—with a long plaque by the door: Xijing Cultural Relics Co., Ltd.

Lin Sicheng paused: this was the company his grandfather mentioned?

It was indeed a company but formerly the Xijing Cultural Relics Store, a public institution directly under the Cultural Relics Bureau.

Working here was basically the same as working for the Bureau.

The old man was quite crafty.

They climbed the steps and were greeted by a young woman—tall, fair-skinned, smiling with kind eyes.

“Professor Lin, General Manager Bai is waiting for you in the reception room!”

“Thank you!”

Lin Changqing nodded, and the woman hurried to press the elevator button. Her calves were taut beneath work pants, high heels tapping crisply on the floor.

They reached the fifth floor and entered the meeting room, where eight or nine men and women simultaneously stood.

General Manager Bai, just over fifty, stepped forward briskly. “Professor Lin, sorry to trouble you so late again! But I really can’t rest assured without your inspection!”

“It’s my duty!” Lin Changqing introduced Lin Sicheng. “This is my grandson, a senior this year, brought along to gain some exposure.”

General Manager Bai smiled. “The young man looks energetic!”

After some polite exchanges and introductions, Lin Sicheng learned that besides two suited guests, the other six were company staff.

They belonged to the purchasing department, specializing in acquiring antiques and cultural relics, supplying museums and cultural institutions.

Similar organizations existed everywhere—provincial and national levels included. Their work was straightforward: rescue and acquire important relics to prevent precious cultural heritage from disappearing.

Today, the old man was to authenticate two relics recently purchased from out of town by the purchasing department. All necessary tests and expert appraisals had been done; the old man was the final gatekeeper.

That alone testified to the consultant’s importance.

The old man got straight to the point: “General Manager Bai, where are the items?”

Bai pointed, and two attendants brought out two boxes.

Standard protective cases made for specified relics—shockproof, drop-proof, moisture-proof, dust-proof.

Opening the boxes revealed a celadon pot in one and a porcelain enamel bowl in the other.

Lin Changqing donned gloves and first took out the enamel bowl. “Look carefully!”

Lin Sicheng replied and glanced up, immediately startled by the red seal script on the bowl’s base: “Imperially Made in the Kangxi Period.”

Examining the pattern, he drew a sharp breath:

The exterior was coated in palace pink, encircled by floral motifs; inside, wheel-shaped blossoms in full bloom, interspersed with chrysanthemums, vines intertwining, lush foliage...

Wasn’t this the Kangxi imperial porcelain enamel “Array of Flowers Offering Auspiciousness” bowl?

As far as he knew: the Palace Museum had one, the Taiwanese Palace Museum had another. In 2022, Zhonghan Auctions sold one for 11.5 million yuan.

In 2024, Artron listed another starting at 15 million yuan.

So which one was this? Or was it a fifth piece?

His heart raced wildly as he scrutinized it twice before releasing a sigh of relief: it was a replica.

Though the body was fine and even, it was slightly thick, the exposed clay’s whiteness somewhat dull with a yellowish tinge.

The design was vivid and colorful, but the glaze too glossy, lacking the genuine piece’s “warm and moist” glass-like texture.

Put plainly: it was too recent; the superficial gloss hadn’t worn off.

The craftsmanship was excellent, but the lines overly intricate, lacking flexibility, less lively and natural than the genuine article. The coloring was heavy, slightly dull, missing depth.

The patina was quite old, but the superficial gloss still shone, glaringly so—definitely not as old as “Kangxi.” Lin Sicheng estimated it was at most about a century old.

After a thorough look, he had a preliminary judgment and fell silent.

The old man examined it meticulously, taking nearly ten more minutes before finally looking up.

“So, what do you think?”

Lin Sicheng was succinct: “A replica.”

Lin Changqing paused slightly, smiling and nodding. “How did you determine that?”

“The body is too thick, the whiteness too low. The design is overly complicated, coloring too heavy, lacking flexibility. The glaze too bright, and the mark sits on the surface!”

“Give me the conclusion!”

“A replica from the Guangxu period’s imperial kiln!”

As soon as he spoke, a gleam flashed in Lin Changqing’s eyes, and the two men beside General Manager Bai looked up sharply.

They had purchased the items; of course, they knew whether it was a replica, from which era it imitated, and where.

Lin Changqing, former head of the West University Ceramics Research Center, was an authority on ceramic authentication in the province. Experienced and discerning, he could certainly tell.

But on what basis did his grandson judge?

General Manager Bai’s eyes showed surprise. “Even if it’s a replica, why not from Tongzhi, Xianfeng, or Daoguang periods?”

“Because those three periods never produced enamelware.”

Bai’s interest deepened. “I didn’t know that; please elaborate!”

“Mainly, the enamel materials were all imported and very costly, so during the mid-Jiaqing period, enamel pieces were rare in the palace. Especially after the Opium War: the Qing government paid indemnities to foreign powers and suppressed the Taiping Rebellion domestically, tightening belts to survive.

It wasn’t until the Guangxu period, at Empress Dowager Cixi’s strong insistence, that the Imperial Household Department and the imperial kiln resumed enamel production, sparking a brief revival.

However, due to broken inheritance and lost techniques, the craftsmanship declined severely, resulting in awkward copies that failed to match the originals.

But even as replicas, they came from the imperial kiln, and Cixi commissioned them as birthday gifts, funded by reallocating the Beiyang Navy’s budget. So, considering the First Sino-Japanese War, this bowl holds significant historical and commemorative value!”

Bai’s eyes lit up: Isn’t that why this bowl was purchased, for its historical and commemorative significance?

Now there was an additional, highly meaningful reason.

He looked at Lin Changqing. “Professor Lin?”

The old man nodded. “Basically correct. That last part can be added.”

Bai nodded, and his secretary quickly added a sentence to the document before handing it to Lin Changqing.

The old man signed boldly. Lin Sicheng glanced at the purchase price: 450,000 yuan.

Not high, not low—just right.

While his grandfather signed, Lin Sicheng read the authentication report, unaware of the sixteen eyes from the eight others silently watching the two of them.

In barely ten minutes, he had identified the piece as a replica, precisely analyzed its differences from the genuine article, and explained the reasons thoroughly and convincingly.

If it had been Professor Lin, no surprise. But his grandson? It was truly astonishing.

Could it be that he had seen the authentication certificate beforehand?

That was nonsense. Even Professor Lin hadn’t seen it...