"Especially in the last two years, the great popularity of scholarly supplies has accelerated the upward trend in the market for antique inkstones."

Gao Dequan chuckled, "If this were purely an investment, the rate of return on antique ink would certainly not compare to that of porcelain, jade, or calligraphy and painting. But now, more and more calligraphers and painters are developing a preference for using antique ink for their writing and painting."

"After all, truly fine ink flows like lacquer on paper, preserving its essence for millennia—something modern inks simply cannot match. Usually, the finest pieces are kept for appreciation, while broken or damaged fragments are used for writing."

At this moment, Gao Dequan gestured, "For instance, these fragmented pieces of ink, even priced at a few thousand yuan, can still be sold. This means that if the other ink cakes in this box are famous varieties like 'Zi Yu Guang' (Purple Jade Sheen), your tens of thousands of yuan wouldn't just be recovered; you could stand to profit several times over."

"Money is secondary; the main thing is what I can learn from it," Wang Guan replied with a smile, feeling pleased internally but ensuring his words sounded suitably modest.

"That’s an excellent attitude," Gao Dequan nodded. "You will understand later that the purpose of collecting is not investment and profit, but cultural inheritance."

"It seems all the good things are out in the countryside."

At the same time, Yu Feibai sighed pensively, "No wonder those major collectors always love to scour old homesteads. Indeed, the probability of finding genuine artifacts in old houses is not only high, but there are far more treasures. So, if you want to strike a bargain, or find something truly authentic, you have to go deep into the grassroots, into the vast rural areas."

"Your thinking is sound, but you must also be careful not to step on landmines," Gao Dequan reminded him with a slight smile. "Some people now exploit the psychology of collectors like yourselves, setting traps specifically for you to fall into."

"That’s absolutely right," Wang Guan agreed from deep experience. "In China today, except for truly remote and impoverished areas, who doesn't know that old things are valuable? If you try to take advantage of them, be careful you aren't the one getting ripped off."

"Who told us we were born a few decades too late?" Yu Feibai sighed. "All the good stuff was collected by Uncle De and their generation."

"Nonsense."

Gao Dequan laughed and cursed, "Go say that to Old Qian."

Hearing this, Wang Guan and Yu Feibai shared a knowing smile. It seemed Gao Dequan shared their regret: when the collecting craze first erupted, particularly during the golden age of the 1980s, he was still young with limited funds—willing but powerless. Most of the best items had probably been acquired by Old Qian’s generation.

After the laughter subsided, Wang Guan remembered the main business at hand and quickly said, "Uncle De, could you help me sort these antique inks and, while you're at it, determine their specific eras?"

"Certainly."

Gao Dequan naturally did not refuse. He very professionally put on a pair of white gloves, half-crouched beside the box, picking out the inks to examine and comment. "I am not an expert in ink authentication, so I can only roughly judge the period of the cake based on its quality, inscriptions, patterns, and general type."

"Furthermore, you should know that so-called famous brand inks were not necessarily crafted personally by the master himself. Take, for instance, the Four Great Ink Makers of the Qing Dynasty: Cao Sugong, Wang Jinsheng, Wang Jie'an, and Hu Kaiwen. They were all titans of the ink industry, each establishing their own workshops and continuing their businesses through generations."

"That 'Zi Yu Guang' we saw earlier, although it is a famous ink by Cao Sugong, the Cao family's ink-making craft began during the Kangxi period and continued uninterrupted for thirteen generations. The Cao ink establishment eventually merged with Hu Kaiwen's workshop to become Shanghai Mo Shi."

"Since 'Zi Yu Guang' is a renowned, excellent variety, the descendants of the Cao family would certainly have inherited the craft."

Gao Dequan frowned, "So, I can't be certain if that 'Zi Yu Guang' was strictly from the Kangxi reign. However, judging by how thoroughly dry the ink quality is, I can assert it won't be far off. If not Kangxi, then it’s from the Yongzheng or Qianlong periods."

Wang Guan and Yu Feibai nodded seriously; this was practical wisdom that needed to be absorbed.

Gao Dequan continued speaking as he took out the ink cakes one by one, sometimes shaking his head, sometimes nodding, showing clear amazement. "Wang Guan, I can be certain this box of ink cakes must have come from the hands of a serious collector. Did you really acquire them from a rural farmer?"

"What makes you say that?" Wang Guan asked, not quite understanding.

"I’ve examined over twenty cakes, and they are all famous varieties. For example, Cao Sugong’s 'Zi Yu Guang,' Wang Jinsheng’s 'Qing Yun Luo,' Wang Jie'an’s 'Qing Lin Sui,' and Hu Kaiwen’s 'Yu Chan Mo'..."

Gao Dequan listed them, clicking his tongue in wonder. "Though none are masterpieces or supreme treasures, they are still upper-grade ink cakes. Only someone dedicated to collecting antique ink would bother gathering such items. A village elder likely wouldn't have the energy to dabble in these things."

"The old man said these inks, just like the Kuixing inkstone, were passed down from his ancestors," Wang Guan laughed, repeating Old Man Cao’s story.

It wasn't that he deliberately lied, but rather he didn't want to invite unnecessary complications. After all, the provenance of the items wasn't entirely straightforward. Spreading the real story would cause a moderate amount of trouble.

"Hmm, not only must he have been an official, but likely also a refined scholar."

After hearing the explanation, Gao Dequan nodded in agreement. Some might think this a redundant statement, assuming all ancient officials were scholars.

That was not entirely true. In the mid-to-late Qing Dynasty, besides those who genuinely passed the Imperial Examinations, there were also appointed officials, purchased offices, military ranks, not to mention the famously privileged members of the Eight Banners nobility who were born into official status.

Most of those officials only knew how to eat, drink, and play; there was little room for refinement.

Returning to the matter at hand, in a short time, Gao Dequan laid out all the ink cakes from the box, carefully grouping them into several piles. Even he looked slightly astonished. "Indeed, not only are the inks from the Four Great Makers present, but ordered chronologically from Kangxi to Guangxu, it’s practically a chronological table of the Qing emperors."

Hearing this, Wang Guan immediately and subtly activated his special ability, examining the ink cakes closely. Upon looking, Wang Guan saw that the baoguang (precious aura) emanating from the cakes perfectly matched the order Gao Dequan had arranged, confirming his own deductions.

In Wang Guan’s eyes, the baoguang on these cakes progressed from pale white to golden yellow. The ones from the later eras, such as Guangxu and Tongzhi, had a faint white aura. Those from Xianfeng and Daoguang were silvery-white. Those from the Jiaqing and Qianlong reigns were white tinged with yellow, a light yellow hue. As for Yongzheng to Kangxi, the color shifted from yellow toward a rich golden yellow.

In essence, the older the item, the deeper the color of its baoguang. Naturally, the accompanying baoqi (precious energy) was also relatively denser. As for the luster of jewels and treasures, Wang Guan had now grasped the pattern: an object emitting a strong radiance and dense energy was certainly something extremely valuable.

The yellow and white lights emanating from the antique inks intertwined, looking like dazzling gold and silver, immensely pleasing to the eye.

At least, that was how it appeared to Wang Guan.

After a moment of appreciation, Wang Guan felt his spirits lift. He blinked, and his gaze inadvertently swept over the empty box. His innate energy naturally reached out to it. Then, a three-dimensional cross-section image of the box’s interior was instantly transmitted into Wang Guan's mind, leaving him completely stunned.

"Wang Guan..."

Just then, Yu Feibai called out.

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