Wang Guan's hint at this point was quite obvious, and Ouyang certainly picked up on it. However, because Wang Guan's tone was rather tactful, Ouyang didn't sense that his judgment was being questioned; he merely took it as concern between friends. Since it was concern, Ouyang had no reason to be angry; instead, he quickly explained, "The piece is definitely authentic. After all, it’s a riveted object; it couldn't possibly be a fake. It’s precisely because of this reason that I feel the asking price of sixty million is too high, which is why I’m hesitating and can’t make a decision right away."

"Kintsugi pottery?" For a moment, Wang Guan and Yu Feibai were stunned. When it came to jūcí (riveted pottery), the average person truly didn't understand it well. This was mainly because contemporary porcelain is inexpensive; if it breaks or cracks, one simply throws it away and buys a new one. But things were different in ancient times. If a precious piece of porcelain cracked, the owner would cherish it greatly and hate to discard it, so they would hire a skilled craftsman to secure it with metal staples and continue using it. Of course, the "precious porcelain" spoken of here referred not only to items belonging to wealthy households but also to those of ordinary citizens. Kintsugi wasn't necessarily applied only to exquisite imperial kiln treasures; it could also be large plates or jars from common households. After all, large plates and jars were not cheap for ordinary people in antiquity, and even if they cracked, they were reluctant to replace them with new ones. It was in this context that the craft of jūcí naturally emerged. These days, fewer items are being riveted. In the past, one could often hear the hawkers on the streets shouting about riveting pots, bowls, and vats. There is an old saying: "No diamond saw, don't take on porcelain work," which speaks directly to this skill of riveting ceramics. During the riveting process, the master drilling the holes must have a very steady and accurate hand, absolutely not drilling through the piece. Furthermore, the holes drilled must be perfectly symmetrical, without the slightest deviation. In addition, the size of the staple must be calculated with extreme precision, otherwise, the plate will leak once repaired. As long as these few conditions are met, the riveted porcelain will fit together seamlessly. There will absolutely be no phenomenon of seeping or leakage; it can truly be called a feat of divine workmanship.

Generally speaking, riveted porcelain doesn't fetch much money. Especially large water vats that were stapled in common households—if they survive to this day, they are almost certainly worthless items. However, there are exceptions. For instance, there is a very significant case in Japan. Legend has it that a superb bowl from the Longquan Kiln during China’s Southern Song Dynasty was brought to Japan and treasured as a national artifact. During the Muromachi period in Japan, this bowl was collected by the ruling Shogun, Ashikaga Yoshimasa. The Shogun cherished it deeply, but he accidentally caused it to crack. So, the Shogun dispatched an envoy with the bowl to China, begging the Ming Emperor to grant him an identical replacement. However, the court officials searched every kiln. Due to the limitations of the existing craftsmanship, they could not replicate the original glaze color. The envoy, helpless, had to ask a master craftsman to staple the bowl securely and then returned with it to Japan. This case illustrates just how common the practice of kintsugi was during the Ming Dynasty. However, due to differing aesthetic sensibilities across eras, many modern antique collectors strongly dislike riveted ware, finding rows of staples unsightly. So, even if someone acquires a riveted piece, they will often specifically ask someone to remove the staples and meticulously re-adhere the pieces using modern adhesive. This certainly looks much more aesthetically pleasing. Of course, disliking kintsugi doesn't mean that riveted artifacts lack value. In 2007, a Ming Chenghua Blue and White Dragon Jar, which had a circle of rivet marks around its rim, sold for 2.09 million yuan after a fierce bidding competition. It was around that time that many collectors began to take riveted porcelain seriously.

"Since it's been riveted, it's a damaged piece then," Yu Feibai frowned simultaneously. "Just how good is that large plate to dare ask for sixty million?" "The item is excellent, extremely exquisite." Seeing Yu Feibai’s skepticism, Ouyang immediately rushed to its defense: "Although the plate cracked clean in half down the middle, the riveting craftsmanship is exquisite. The skillful artisan secured it so finely on the underside. If you look from the front, you can't detect the crack at all." "In summary, apart from this one flaw, there are no other faults. The blue and white coloration is beautiful, and the design featuring orioles among lychee branches is exceedingly rare—there is no other like it in the world. It is a unique treasure." As he spoke, perhaps worried that others wouldn't believe him, Ouyang quickly stepped out and returned a moment later, holding a stack of photographs. These were not small snapshots, but large photos, about nine inches each. "Look at this..." Ouyang displayed the photos. Wang Guan and the others eagerly looked. They saw a blue and white large plate, with the center painted with an oriole perched on a lychee tree, calmly leaning down as if about to catch a small insect—lively, vivid, and incredibly lifelike. Around the center, along the curved inner wall near the rim, were six clusters of lychee motifs. The beautiful blue and white patterns were distributed across the large plate with balanced spacing, yet they did not appear the least bit cluttered. On the contrary, they were remarkably delicate, elegant, natural, and extremely fine. Most importantly, no matter how Wang Guan and the others examined them, they absolutely could not detect any sign of a crack in the high-definition photographs. It was only when Ouyang showed the photo of the plate's underside that everyone saw a fine, zipper-like pattern of rivets.

"It's fixed like this?" Murong Guang was very surprised. "Is it that secure?" "It's absolutely secure; it won't leak even if you serve hot soup in it," Ouyang stated with certainty. "And unless you examine the surface closely, or use a high-powered magnifying glass to search specifically, you absolutely won't see the seam." This was the second time Ouyang had emphasized this point, indicating how much the item had impressed him and that he was seriously considering buying it.

"It looks quite nice." At this moment, Wang Guan pondered, scrutinizing each photograph carefully before smiling and asking, "By the way, I wonder how large this plate is?" Being just photographs without any objects for scale, it was genuinely difficult to judge the size. One had to know that the size of an object often determined part of its value. It wasn't that small objects were worthless, but rather that larger items certainly carried an added bonus. After all, with the craftsmanship of antiquity, creating something both large and exquisite was no easy feat. Furthermore, larger objects were the most susceptible to nicks and damage during their transmission through history. This large plate was the best example of that; otherwise, it wouldn't have needed riveting. If it had survived completely intact, its price would surely have doubled.

"This is a large plate, a very large plate." At this, Ouyang spoke excitedly, "I measured it myself. The diameter of the plate is 59.5 centimeters, making it a rare large vessel. Yet, when displayed, it doesn't feel bulky at all. On the contrary, it appears quite stately, atmospheric, elegant, and refined..." Ouyang couldn't stop praising it. This demeanor clearly showed he was deeply inclined to purchase the item. Wang Guan was not surprised by this; after admiring the piece through the photographs, even he felt a slight flutter of excitement. However, without seeing the physical object, Wang Guan still harbored some doubts: "Brother Ouyang, please forgive my presumption in asking, but what is the provenance of this item?" No matter what the object was, especially a rare antique, its background—its lineage or traceable history—was paramount. If it was passed down through generations, it naturally had a discernible path. Or perhaps it was recovered from an excavation or a sunken treasure site; that too constituted a background. Everything had an explanation; nothing could appear out of thin air. Fakes are precisely what appear out of thin air, which is why sellers of fakes always like to invent stories for their items. But stories, no matter how realistically crafted, are relatively easy to see through.

"It’s a repatriated piece of porcelain," Ouyang hesitated slightly, then immediately corrected himself, "Strictly speaking, it's not repatriated; it’s from a collector I know in Hong Kong." "A collector in Hong Kong?" Wang Guan started, his expression growing more astonished. After all, Hong Kong to Jiuquan spanned at least half the territory of China; the distance seemed rather far. In his impression, Hong Kong ceramics usually appeared more frequently in coastal areas, rarely venturing into inland cities. The reasons for this were primarily the distance of travel, and secondly, the economic development factor. Relatively speaking, the coastal regions were certainly more economically developed, with more people engaging in collecting.

"Did you contact him yourself, or did he approach you to market it?" Yu Feibai asked with a frown. He was more direct and didn't hide his suspicion. "Something feels a bit off." "What's off?" Ouyang was startled, then understood their concerns and quickly explained, "The item is genuinely excellent, and it even has an appraisal certificate from Sotheby's. It shouldn't be a fake." "Certificates and such things can be trusted, and yet not entirely trusted," Yu Feibai shook his head. "If you're willing to spend money, never mind a Sotheby's certificate, I can get you a personal evaluation signed by a top expert from the Palace Museum. Of course, I can only guarantee that the seals are authentic; as for whether the evaluations truly came from a top expert, that's harder to say."

"Brother Ouyang," Wang Guan's tone was more tactful, "It’s not that we think the item is necessarily a fake, but for such a major, priceless treasure, one can never be too cautious." "I also know several renowned art brokers in Hong Kong. If you trust me, you could tell me the collector's name, and I can ask around among them. Since we are all in the same circle, perhaps they know something about this matter." There are unwritten rules in the antiques trade: before a transaction is concluded, a third party should not inquire about the seller’s background. Doing so suggests an attempt to interfere—what is known as 'cutting the rope' or intercepting the deal. This is why Wang Guan phrased his offer so indirectly.

"That's a good thing!" Murong Guang, unaware of these subtle maneuverings, simply felt that knowing the other party's background was best. He urged, "Ouyang, hurry up and tell us, what is that person's name?" "How could I not trust Brother Wang? I should thank you for your kind offer to help," Ouyang paused slightly, then smiled. "I met this person last year when I attended an auction in Hong Kong. He was sitting next to me, and since everyone else seemed a bit bored, we started chatting." "He was very cordial and enthusiastically shared some knowledge about porcelain collecting with me. After the auction ended, we exchanged contact information. Over the past year, we've talked from time to time. Honestly, it was mostly me seeking his guidance on certain matters, and he patiently answered..." Ouyang elaborated at length, the underlying message being that this person was his friend and wouldn't deceive him.