For a fleeting moment, the assembled company in the hall paused, a ripple of surprise passing through them. Wang Guan's words implied a direct challenge to Han Lang, otherwise, why would he inquire about the depth of his sincerity?

At that opportune moment, a thought stirred in Han Lang's mind, prompting his retort: "How much sincerity do you require?"

"True sincerity should be demonstrated proactively by you, rather than extracted by me," Wang Guan stated calmly.

Han Lang's gaze sharpened as he pressed further, "Sincerity abounds, naturally, but if you desire it, you must also present tangible evidence. Mere talk holds no sincerity for you."

The two circled each other, their exchange feeling like a tense standoff, point meeting sharp point.

It was then that Old Mr. Han chuckled, his remark laced with insinuation: "Young man, you must stand by your words. Empty rhetoric will not suffice..."

His implication was painfully clear: he was questioning Wang Guan's shift in demeanor. Earlier, he claimed ignorance regarding the origins of the Cánxiàng Mùdiāo (Remnant Image Wood Carving), yet now his words hinted at knowing its foundation.

This contradiction naturally invited suspicion.

It wasn't just Old Mr. Han; even Monk Ban Shan harbored doubts, worrying that Wang Guan was merely acting rashly, unable to withstand Han Lang's subtle jibes, leading him to speak carelessly.

However, Pi Qiu Shi held considerable faith in Wang Guan. Especially seeing Wang Guan’s composed and tranquil air, he knew the young man had a plan and wasn't merely posturing.

Realizing this, Pi Qiu Shi felt reassured, then smiled: "Brother, I knew you were holding something back, deliberately allowing your elder brother some face. But there was no need; I long understood that your capabilities surpass mine. If I couldn't discern something and you did, then speak plainly; have no reservations."

"Furthermore..."

Saying this, Pi Qiu Shi shifted his focus, a flicker of cunning crossing his eyes: "As long as you offer convincing proof, no one here will deny the truth or argue against your insights out of misplaced loyalty."

This 'no one' naturally referred to Han Lang, but more importantly, it served as a reminder to Old Mr. Han not to show undue favoritism toward his grandson.

Old Mr. Han understood this perfectly and smiled faintly, "Naturally. Everyone’s eyes are clear, they don't accept sand. If it is, it is; if it isn't, it isn't. The key lies in having irrefutable proof. As the saying goes, evidence should be as solid as a mountain, not the result of baseless fabrication."

"That is certain," Pi Qiu Shi nodded, immediately looking toward Wang Guan, signaling with his eyes: I have set the stage; it is your turn, brother.

Though Wang Guan appeared outwardly humble, over a year of growth and experience had imbued him with a certain air of pride. This was not the arrogance of one who looks down on others, but a confidence stemming from mastery of his craft.

Anyone truly self-assured possesses a measure of pride—not necessarily conceit, but a subtle transformation in mindset that accompanies the accumulation of professional expertise to a certain level.

Yet, pride manifests in two ways: one is superficial and overt, the other is deeply ingrained and hidden.

For instance, Yu Feibai belonged to the former category; outwardly ostentatious, he exuded a feeling of arrogant swagger. Conversely, Old Man Qian was approachable and kind-hearted, yet did he lack pride?

Wrong. Upon prolonged contact, one would discover Old Man Qian's pride surpassed Yu Feibai’s by a thousandfold; it was woven into his very marrow and required no display. Especially when appreciating porcelain, he was supremely arrogant, treating every opinion he voiced as an undeniable maxim, tolerating no contradiction...

Of course, no one dared challenge him, as every point he made was factually correct.

This was the kind of pride Wang Guan aspired to cultivate. He had now begun to foster this very trait. Han Lang's questioning was merely the catalyst; what truly moved him to speak was the inner self-regard, that thrill of recognizing a worthy challenge (jiàn liè xīn xǐ).

Never mind that Wang Guan often teased Yu Feibai for being obsessed with treasures; he too had contracted the occupational disease. Upon seeing any rare object, he could not resist examining it closely and offering his perspective.

As Pi Qiu Shi mentioned, Wang Guan had initially intended to offer a few polite concessions, never expecting Han Lang to take him seriously—he had walked right into the line of fire...

"Then don't blame me for exposing you. Blame Qiao Yu; this is her entrustment," Wang Guan spared Han Lang a look of pity, thinking the man was unlucky to be challenged in the very domain where Wang Guan excelled. To provoke him here was simply asking for trouble.

Shaking his head slightly, Wang Guan approached the Cánxiàng Mùdiāo. He first circled it once, then slowly extended two fingers: "Pi Ge has already covered what is commonly known. Now, I only wish to supplement two points."

"We await your detailed explanation."

Everyone turned to look, Han Lang included, eager to listen closely before formulating a rebuttal.

"The first point is gleaned from the texture of the remaining garment details on the carving: this wooden statue must represent a female deity. Otherwise, the drapery would not possess such a flowing, ethereal quality, the long skirt billowing..." Wang Guan stated with certainty, as the attire of male and female deities differed significantly, making identification easy.

"What nonsense is that?" Han Lang immediately countered with a mocking smile, "Is this the insight you offer? We knew this without you needing to elaborate. Anyone with eyes can see it's a female deity, and moreover, Guanyin Bodhisattva."

"However, you must understand: Guanyin Bodhisattva manifests countless forms to save beings according to their needs, resulting in numerous images. Such as Child-Giving Guanyin, Leaf-Clothed Guanyin, Dragon-Headed Guanyin, Water-Moon Guanyin, Basket-Carrying Guanyin, Water-Sprinkling Guanyin..."

Evidently, due to Old Mr. Han’s interest, Han Lang was familiar with this remnant image, hence his ability to list numerous Guanyin forms without hesitation.

"Guanyin's manifestations are manifold. Can you specify which particular form this represents?"

Han Lang’s question was sharp and direct, causing Old Mr. Han to nod unconsciously, a look of fond satisfaction in his eyes. This was natural; every elder favors their grandson, especially when the grandson demonstrates such familiarity with a cherished subject.

Wang Guan, however, remained perfectly calm, dismissing the assertion lightly: "Who told you this is a manifestation of Guanyin?"

"Hmm?"

The entire group froze in astonishment.

"That's a difficult question to answer, isn't it?" Wang Guan chuckled. "There’s an idiom: 'first impressions count' (xiān rù wéi zhǔ). You have all fallen prey to the same error. Why is your immediate thought, upon seeing a female deity, Guanyin Bodhisattva?"

"Amitabha."

At that moment, the silent Monk Ban Shan spoke, his tone tinged with hesitation: "Patron Wang, this statue stands upon a lotus pedestal..."

"Master Ban Shan, I understand your point," Wang Guan waved his hand. "You believe the lotus pedestal is an implement of Buddhism, and since it is associated with the lotus flower and depicts a female deity, it must therefore be Guanyin?"

"If that is the case, why the need for further speculation? I dare bet someone suggested this remnant carving is the Reclining Lotus Guanyin." Wang Guan retorted, "Why does Old Mr. Han disagree?"

"Well..." Old Mr. Han hesitated before stating the truth, "I think a Reclining Lotus Guanyin should, perhaps, be lying down..."

"Old Mr. Han is being a bit too literal," Wang Guan said, shaking his head. "The form of Reclining Lotus Guanyin doesn't necessarily mandate a reclining posture; it could be seated, or even standing. As long as the lotus pedestal is sufficiently large, it could still be termed Reclining Lotus Guanyin."

Old Mr. Han was momentarily silenced but shook his head, indicating Wang Guan's statement failed to convince him.

Han Lang, however, remembered the subtext of Wang Guan’s earlier argument and pulled the conversation back on track: "If Mr. Wang believes this is not a Guanyin image, then which deity is it?"

"No rush on that. Listen to my second point first," Wang Guan showed no intention of pressing the issue, instead smiling pleasantly. "Combining these two points should allow us to deduce the true nature of the spirit depicted in the remnant wood carving."

"Brother, stop being mysterious," Pi Qiu Shi urged quickly. "What is the second point?"

"Actually, Brother Pi, you noticed the second point but didn't dwell on it," Wang Guan reminded him. "At the base of the lotus pedestal, there is an inscription."

"An inscription?" Pi Qiu Shi was startled but nodded. "Yes, I saw it. The inscription is very simple—no dynastic reign marks, no mention of the sculptor—just the characters 'Ji Chun Er Shi San' (Twenty-third Day of the Late Spring)."

"Exactly," Wang Guan smiled. "The ancients viewed divine images not as lifeless carvings of wood or clay, as we perceive them today, but as incarnations of the deities themselves, worthy of the utmost respect. Generally, if inscriptions could be avoided, they were. Even if one was necessary, the sculptor would never carve their own name, lest they incur the deity's displeasure. Master Ban Shan should have more experience in this regard?"

"Correct," Master Ban Shan nodded slightly, confirming that when he carved sacred statues, he never left his mark.

"Furthermore, any large-scale divine statue would not be carved arbitrarily. It would always be commissioned for a specific purpose—perhaps for the deity's birthday, death anniversary, ascension, or date of achieving Buddhahood—to be used for ritual offerings."

Simultaneously, Wang Guan asked, "Master Ban Shan, am I correct?"

"Very correct," the monk nodded again. "Besides festival days, large statues like this are only commissioned for the dedication ceremony of a new temple. Otherwise, smaller statues suffice for worship."

"Stop deviating," Han Lang grew impatient. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

"I merely want to tell you that after a craftsman finishes carving a divine statue, regardless of when he completes the work, he always leaves one final stroke. That stroke is only added on the final day, the day of the dedication ritual, when he completes it." Wang Guan chuckled. "This final step is known in the trade as Huà Lóng Diǎn Jīng (Painting the Dragon, Dotting the Eyes), also called Kāiguāng Diǎnhuà (Consecration)."

"Therefore, the writing at the base is less of an inscription and more of a marker, a reminder of a specific date. It serves to remind people to invite the craftsman back on that day to apply that final stroke. Once that stroke is added, the statue ceases to be mere wood; it becomes the deity's incarnation, possessing supreme power, capable of accepting incense and prayers, and fulfilling people's wishes."

"Thus, this process of completing the stroke can also be termed the 'Divine Final Stroke'..."