As to why the Shengtao Cup possessed such miraculous effects, neither Wang Guan nor Gao Dequan could offer an explanation.

Unable to decipher the underlying reason, Gao Dequan simply conceded, "Go ask Old Man Qian about it later. For now, never mind the principles, just let me enjoy a couple more cups of fragrant tea..."

To brew the taste of tea from water devoid of leaves—such marvels were rare indeed. Furthermore, Gao Dequan knew the item would likely be taken to the capital by Wang Guan in a few days, so he resolved to savor its presence while he had the proximate advantage.

Shortly after, his parents returned from their walk, exclaiming in wonder at the sight of the Shengtao Cup. His mother, especially, could hardly believe it was the same cup, suspecting Wang Guan had bought a new one to deceive her and escape the sin of wasting fine tea leaves.

Wang Guan found the situation both amusing and exasperating. Fortunately, with Gao Dequan offering explanations nearby, his mother was only half-convinced.

However, after tasting the clean, fragrant tea brewed by the Shengtao Cup, even his mother found it extraordinary, leading her—a woman who didn't usually care for tea—to cradle the cup and sip delicately every day for the following few days.

A few days later, Master Liu had finished casting the bell and notified Wang Guan to come and collect it.

Unknowingly, a month had already passed; time truly flew. Wang Guan sighed faintly, packed his bags, bid farewell to his parents, and, without rushing to retrieve the bell, headed first to the provincial capital to collect Su Dongpo's Odes on the Red Cliffs, Fore and Aft.

The scroll was currently in the keeping of Old Man Tian. During its exhibition in Huangzhou, it had caused a sensation. The originally scheduled three-day display was extended to seven days, drawing visitors, including experts, scholars, and antique dealers, from all over. After meticulous scrutiny, many concluded that the long scroll was undeniably authentic.

Of course, a small minority sought to be contrarian, claiming it was a forgery and presenting what they termed evidence. This ignited a war of words with those who insisted on its authenticity, turning newspapers and magazines into veritable battlegrounds thick with smoke and fire.

Hearing of this situation, Wang Guan was unsurprised and merely dismissed it with a light laugh. After all, the news of the Jiaowei Qin's reappearance had sparked considerable debate, and even now, some people still insisted that the Jiaowei Qin was fake.

Moreover, Wang Guan didn't see it as a bad thing; after all, truth is forged clearer through debate. As long as the arguments weren't utterly nonsensical or merely attention-seeking ploys for status, he welcomed all questioning. It certainly didn't require his personal intervention; others were naturally stepping up to offer rebuttals.

Indeed, that was precisely what happened. Under the reasoned debates offered by Old Man Chi, Old Man Tian, and others, the controversy surrounding the Fore and Aft Red Cliffs scroll steadily diminished. Especially after the exhibition concluded, the voices of doubt nearly vanished. Though a few stray murmurs persisted, no one paid them any mind; it was only a matter of time before those voices grew bored and faded away into silence, leaving everything calm.

However, when the exhibition ended and Old Man Tian prepared to take the scroll back as Wang Guan had requested, he encountered difficulties. The Huangzhou Museum, along with local government bodies, hoped desperately for the artifact to remain in Huangzhou, even suggesting they might receive it as a donation, or, if necessary, purchase it outright...

Everything was within Wang Guan's expectations, which was precisely why he had slipped away early, leaving Old Man Tian to clean up the mess.

It must be said that Old Man Tian was no pushover either. He adamantly insisted on taking the scroll away, and even interventions from Old Man Xing and Old Man Ji proved useless. Others had no recourse but to watch helplessly as Old Man Tian departed with the artifact.

Reportedly, upon his return, Old Man Tian hung the scroll at the Collectors' Association for a period, causing a minor ripple of excitement. After displaying it for seven or eight days, he took it home for his private enjoyment.

It was only when Wang Guan arrived to claim it that Old Man Tian reluctantly returned the object to its rightful owner.

"Old Man Tian, don't be so gloomy," Wang Guan comforted with a smile. "I'm taking this at Old Man Qian's request, just for him to examine. I’ll bring it right back later. If you ever want to look at it again, just come to me anytime."

"A load of nonsense," Old Man Tian scoffed, though his mood visibly brightened. "You're a young man without much stability. Always running here and there—how would I ever track you down?"

Wang Guan seized the opportunity to offer a few flattering words, then departed amid Old Man Tian's amused scolding. After a series of transfers, he arrived directly at the home of Master Liu, Old Man Liu, in Hukou.

By this time, the Buddhist Bell had been cast and was hanging in the courtyard. Wang Guan observed it closely. The massive bell was the color of ancient bronze, its surface possessing a new, brilliant sheen likely achieved through special treatment, giving it a subdued luster filled with an archaic elegance, as if it were an antique passed down for centuries.

Furthermore, the bell's body was cast according to specifications—strikingly simple, devoid of flashy ornamentation; only a single, modest circle of Sanskrit script was engraved along the lip of the rim. Yet, this plain, unadorned Buddhist Bell exuded a sense of profound grandeur, solemnity, and deep resonance.

"Excellent, truly excellent. When a master craftsman lends his hand, the result is naturally extraordinary," Wang Guan remarked, circling the bell for a moment before giving a resounding thumbs-up and showering it with praise.

"You flatter me," Old Man Liu said gently, waving a hand, a touch of satisfaction showing on his face. He then smiled and instructed, "Zhi Cheng, strike the bell, let him hear the tone."

"Right away!"

Hearing this, Liu Zhi Cheng immediately rolled up his sleeves, grasped the bell-maul—thicker than his own arm—and pushed with force. The maul struck the Buddhist Bell heavily, releasing a sound that was vast and resonant, yet held a faint crispness. Wang Guan stood some distance away and could clearly perceive the sound’s lingering echo, utterly free of any harshness or dullness, indicating superb tonal quality.

This was not the end. Liu Zhi Cheng continued striking, not bothering to count, but striking with a steady rhythm for two or three minutes. One sound followed the next, linking together into continuous waves of sonic energy. Every clang was equally powerful; there was no hint of dissonance or grating noise throughout the sequence. Instead, the confluence of the broad, rich sounds made Wang Guan feel as though he had been transported to a secluded mountain monastery, experiencing a sudden, ethereal, enduring sense of exhilaration.

The inspection passed, and the result was even better than anticipated. This proved that Old Man Qian had not recommended the wrong person; Master Liu's craftsmanship was unimpeachable. Wang Guan certainly wouldn't nitpick, and offered a fresh round of compliments.

What followed requires no lengthy description. After the bell was carefully packed and crated, they immediately contacted a specialized logistics company for shipment. Then, Wang Guan returned to the city, just in time to catch his flight to the capital.

Soon after, Wang Guan landed smoothly at the Capital Airport, then proceeded with practiced ease to the Grand Residence.

"You're back," Old Man Qian said, looking up and setting aside the book in his hands, smiling faintly. "Judging by the timing, you should be arriving around now."

"Good luck—didn't hit any flight delays," Wang Guan replied with a smile, acknowledging that in light of domestic transportation conditions, this was indeed fortunate.

Old Man Qian chuckled and gestured. "Been home for a month. I heard you caused quite the uproar in Huangzhou during that time. Did you bring the main culprit with you?"

"I did," Wang Guan replied lightly. "It was clever of me, too; otherwise, I might not have been able to bring it back."

"Nonsense," Old Man Qian shook his head. "It’s your own property; why would anyone forcibly take it? Society is much more open-minded now; don't view people's intentions too darkly."

Wang Guan responded meekly, though in his heart, he felt it wasn't that he thought people's intentions were wicked, but that certain actions compelled him to remain vigilant. One must not harbor malicious intent toward others, but one must certainly guard against it.

Of course, Wang Guan held back these dampening thoughts and instead took the Red Cliffs scroll from his suitcase, unrolling a small section across the nearby long table. He then turned back with a smile: "Old Man Qian, the piece is here. Please take your time appreciating it."

"Yes, I must examine it closely," Old Man Qian nodded. "It's not just me; Yi Zhi has also been clamoring to borrow it from you for a period of study and appreciation once he heard it was yours."

"That would be fine," Wang Guan replied cheerfully. "Later, I'll ask Old Man Zhou to help make a tracing, and we can hang the replica up at the Shiyi Pavilion as a signature piece."

"That's not a good idea..." Old Man Qian shook his head slightly, then grinned slyly. "One copy is too few. How can such a precious item be lent out so easily? We should have at least two or three copies."

"Understood," Wang Guan agreed wholeheartedly.

Amidst the playful banter, Old Man Qian brought out a row of magnifying glasses, steadied his mind, and began to scrutinize the long scroll. After concentrating for over ten minutes, a look of approval finally reappeared on his face; he, too, had confirmed the piece was undoubtedly authentic.

A professional appraiser must never be a mere echo. One cannot simply accept an object as genuine just because others have declared it so. An appraiser lacking independent judgment will never advance further.

But having too much self-will is also problematic, as it makes one unwilling to heed correct advice. Thus, an excellent appraiser maintains a balance between these two poles. They must possess their own convictions while fully considering the opinions of others, ultimately succeeding in determining the object's authenticity.

This was precisely Old Man Qian’s approach now. Even though he trusted the appraisals from Old Man Tian and the others, he still had to incorporate his own judgment before confirming the Red Cliffs scroll as authentic. In essence, this was a process of continuous self-education and improvement. For collectors and connoisseurs, the saying 'live and learn' is absolutely no cliché.

The times are advancing; not only is technology being rapidly updated every year, but the methods of forgery are constantly evolving as well. If one believes their experience is rich enough to handle every trick of deception, the day they make a serious misjudgment is not far off.

Wang Guan most admired Old Man Qian's perseverance in continuing to learn daily. It wasn't just Old Man Qian; nearly every great collector exhibited this trait, constantly absorbing nourishment to avoid falling behind and being discarded.

It was because of these living examples that, despite achieving success that others could scarcely hope for, Wang Guan dared not harbor any pride or complacency. He was keenly aware that his achievements contained a significant element of luck, unlike the achievements of Old Man Qian and others, who had built their foundation steadfastly, enduring decades of storms, step by painstaking step, until they reached a position that was utterly solid and unshakeable...