In the modern landscape of Chinese painting, two names are unavoidable. One is Daqian, the other is Baishi. Both artists’ works fetch the highest prices both domestically and abroad.

The reason certainly involves promotional hype, yet it cannot be denied that as the most renowned great painters of the modern era, their works possess an inexhaustible charm and are far from undeserved fame. Whether viewed from the perspective of investment appreciation or collection and appreciation, their pieces are worth every penny; there is very little inflation in their value.

“Wang Guan, this is the piece; please take a look.”

At this moment, Fang Mingsheng glanced over and immediately confirmed it was correct. After all, he had viewed the item no fewer than dozens of times, its details etched into his memory. Furthermore, he had no concern that Shopkeeper Mi would dare to swap it or deceive him, so he didn't examine it further, only hoping Wang Guan would finish quickly and make a final judgment for him.

“Hmm?”

Hearing this, Shopkeeper Mi was naturally surprised, realizing his initial assessment had been flawed. It turned out this young man was indeed the connoisseur Fang Mingsheng had invited to appraise the painting. But, he was just too young, wasn't he?

Youth is certainly not a crime, but a young person naturally invites more suspicion. It’s like going to a hospital for treatment and seeing a freshly graduated young doctor attend to you; you’d probably harbor some doubt.

Shopkeeper Mi felt exactly this way now, thinking that for a painting even the venerable Elder Zeng couldn't definitively judge, Fang Mingsheng had invited a mere youngster to help examine it—wasn't that treating things too much like child’s play?

Regardless of the murmuring in Shopkeeper Mi’s mind, at this moment, Wang Guan had walked up to the table and was closely observing this Hongfu Nü painting by Daqian, whose authenticity was in question.

Speaking of Hongfu Nü, anyone familiar with Wuxia novels would certainly not be unacquainted with her. Those with some knowledge of Tang Dynasty chuanqi (tales of the strange and marvelous) would likely be even clearer on the origins of Hongfu Nü.

Hongfu Nü is naturally a fictional character, originating from the Tang Dynasty chuanqi tale, The Ballad of the Knight with the Curly Beard (Qiú Rán Kè Zhuàn). The story centers on Hongfu Nü, Li Jing, and the Curly-Bearded Guest, collectively known as the Three Heroes of Wind and Dust. For centuries, this tale has deeply ingrained the image of Hongfu Nü into the public consciousness; Jin Yong even praised this story as the progenitor of Chinese Wuxia fiction.

However, the novel only described Hongfu’s character but provided no explicit description of her appearance.

Of course, this is a good thing, as it allows for greater artistic freedom. But it is also a bad thing, because the author intentionally omitted detailed textual descriptions of the beauty’s appearance, allowing the audience to form the most complete imagination possible. Although this is the greatest achievement of a novelist, it is also the greatest difficulty for a painter. Therefore, one must possess a profound understanding of the novel's content to accurately deploy the painter’s imagination.

It is often said that a thousand people hold a thousand Hamlets; Hongfu Nü is the same. After reading The Ballad of the Curly-Bearded Guest, everyone harbors their own image of Hongfu Nü. Thus, whether a painted depiction of Hongfu Nü can resonate with that shared imagination becomes a true test of the painter's ability.

Setting aside the issue of this painting’s authenticity, judging purely from the work itself, Wang Guan felt that this painting had achieved exactly that.

Why has the image of Hongfu Nü become so deeply ingrained? Wang Guan believes that besides her external beauty, it owes more to the chivalrous spirit she radiates—that quality of daring to love and hate, possessing a heroic and valiant aura.

This painting before him perfectly aligns with Wang Guan’s aesthetic standards. The composition is not complex; it is bright and simple, depicting only a single court lady. The image shows Hongfu Nü with both hands spread wide over her cloak, her head tilted back slightly, emphasizing her graceful yet strong figure. Her movements are elegant and generous, without the slightest hint of affected coyness.

Looking closely, one notices her knees are slightly raised, her long skirt trailing on the ground as if she is arriving in a sudden, graceful dash. Moreover, her phoenix eyes are wide open, meeting the viewer’s gaze with firm determination. Her expression is composed and self-possessed, subtle yet uncompromising—just as she confronts Li Jing and the Curly-Bearded Guest in the novel, demonstrating an attitude that is both graceful and proactive.

“How is it?”

A few minutes later, Fang Mingsheng could no longer sit still and hurried over to ask, “What are your thoughts?”

“Don't rush, I’m still looking.”

Wang Guan continued to examine the piece, his attention shifting to search for the seal that Fang Mingsheng mentioned—the seal that caused everyone to doubt the painting’s authenticity. His gaze swept across the canvas. The painting is not particularly large, and since this is a modern piece, the seals are not numerous, so he easily spotted his target.

“Seal of the Calligraphy and Painting Collection of Tan’s Zhai!”

At this moment, Wang Guan’s gaze locked, and he couldn't help but let out a soft breath, sighing, “No wonder…”

“Alas, exactly. It is this seal that prevents everyone from confidently determining the painting’s authenticity.” At this point, Fang Mingsheng also frowned, deeply vexed. “Damn Tan Jing, what a lasting menace he is.”

Mentioning Tan Jing, many people would likely be unfamiliar with him. However, for seasoned collectors, Tan Jing’s forgeries of ancient calligraphy and painting are an object of considerable “awe.”

According to Elder Qian’s account, some of the ancient paintings Tan Jing forged are currently housed in institutions like the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and the Freer Gallery of Art in Washington D.C. The fact that even major museums were fooled attests to the sheer deceptive power of his work.

However, precisely because Tan Jing’s notoriety in the art forgery world is so immense, many people automatically suspect a piece might be counterfeit upon seeing the “Seal of the Calligraphy and Painting Collection of Tan’s Zhai.”

The reason for this necessitates going back to the beginning.

Tan Jing was born into a wealthy merchant family and possessed considerable cultural refinement. Because his financial standing was strong, he purchased calligraphy and paintings based solely on quality, regardless of price. Consequently, in a very short period, he amassed a large collection of ancient works.

It is necessary here to mention Zhang Congyu again. Tan Jing and Zhang Congyu were close friends who corresponded frequently. Later, when Zhang Congyu went bankrupt, the substantial collection of calligraphy and paintings he possessed was sold directly to Tan Jing.

Additionally, during the War of Resistance Against Japan, when the north and south were occupied and currency values plummeted, the value of paintings and calligraphy inherently dropped. In the Jiangnan region, cultural relics were heavily concentrated in Shanghai, causing an influx of paintings and calligraphy onto the market. After the war concluded, a significant portion of the treasures that the last emperor Puyi took to Manchukuo also entered the market, which Tan Jing seized the opportunity to acquire.

Through these means, Tan Jing became the foremost great collector of his time, boasting that the collection standards of Xuzhai (Pang Laichen) are outdated, and Congyu is powerless; in the realm of collecting Song and Yuan dynasty paintings in Shanghai, who can rival me!

Whether these words were boastful or arrogant, the fact remained that he possessed many superb pieces, naturally drawing numerous visitors who came just for a glimpse.

It must be said that literati of the Republican era possessed a degree of ancient courtliness. Regardless of whether they knew the host, simply expressing that they were visiting due to reputation often guaranteed a warm reception. Moreover, these visitors weren't simply seeking favor; they came specifically to view paintings, giving Tan Jing even less reason to turn them away.

However, as too many people came to admire the artwork, protecting the calligraphy and paintings from damage became Tan Jing’s most pressing headache. After much thought, he ultimately sought out his fellow apprentice, Tang An, and asked him to help create facsimiles to satisfy the stream of visitors requesting appraisals.

Tang An, courtesy name Linze, excelled at seal carving and was skilled in calligraphy and painting, especially proficient in imitating ancient styles. His reproductions were so masterful that he earned the reputation of being unrivaled in recent history. Having wide social connections, upon receiving Tan Jing’s commission, he immediately gathered a group of friends, and they divided the labor. Some painted the imitations, some copied the inscriptions, some created the seals, some aged the pieces, and others mounted them into scrolls.

How difficult it is to forge ancient paintings! To replicate the patina accumulated over hundreds or even thousands of years of circulation in a short time requires extraordinary skill.

Yet, Tang An and his cohorts actually achieved it. They first painted the piece and affixed it to a board, then rinsed it with water until the colors were faint and indistinct. Afterward, they repeatedly unmounted and remounted it, simulating the process of an ancient piece passing through time. They also performed necessary touch-ups to repair damage, mimicking restoration work on old paintings, and finally applied color washes to imbue it with an ancient aura.

This endeavor must have been highly secretive at the time, but the story inevitably surfaced after the founding of the PRC. It is said that to achieve a natural aged effect, Tang An hung the newly made works on the walls of a courtyard, allowing rain and sun to beat upon them until none remained intact.

Tan Jing found this strange, thinking that such tattered pieces would be useless. However, Tang An replied that the tattered appearance was precisely what was needed; only something already damaged, when subsequently repaired, would look the most authentic.

As a result, the replicated paintings were incredibly convincing; even masters like Wu Changshuo were once fooled, which illustrates just how realistic Tan Jing’s fake paintings were.

For a period, calligraphy and painting collectors reportedly turned pale at the mention of “Tan,” and even pieces bearing Tan Jing’s collection seal were regarded as a plague, things they dared not touch.

It is worth noting that Tan Jing and Zhang Daqian were also friends, so it was entirely normal for him to possess Daqian’s works. The problem was whether this particular painting was an original or a copy—that was difficult to ascertain.

“Did you see? It’s this seal that makes everyone unable to feel at ease.”

At this juncture, Fang Mingsheng gritted his teeth and said, “That fellow, his scourge really lasts a thousand years.”

This statement held truth, because as long as the painting's authenticity could not be proven, the truth would only become more obscured as time passed, leading to endless repercussions through subsequent generations.

“Mmm.”

Wang Guan nodded. After a moment of thought, he suddenly reached out and pressed down on the seal, then smiled, “Let’s put the seals aside for now. If the piece is genuine, the seal means nothing. If the piece itself is fake, then whether it has a seal or not is irrelevant.”

What he said was not wrong, but considering the forgery techniques of Tan Jing and Tang An, how could Fang Mingsheng dare to take it lightly? Unless there was ironclad proof demonstrating the piece was authentic, Tan Jing’s seal remained a thorn lodged in his throat, leaving him intensely uncomfortable.

Not only Fang Mingsheng thought this way; Shopkeeper Mi standing nearby felt Wang Guan was talking nonsense. This seal was the crux of the doubt, and to ignore the doubt now was to put the cart before the horse, wasn't it?

However, Wang Guan paid no mind to their perspectives and continued to scrutinize the painting, slowly analyzing, “Judging by the inscription, this painting was created in 1944, placing it within the transitional period of Daqian’s stylistic evolution…”

Those familiar with Daqian know that his entire artistic career can be broadly divided into three periods. The first period involved learning from masters following the Five Dynasties era, resulting in fresh and elegant literati paintings. The second period looked back to Tang Dynasty styles, marking the most significant turning point in Daqian’s artistic journey. The third period saw the inception of his splashed ink and splashed color techniques, reaching a realm of profound and somber majesty.

It was perfectly clear that this painting of Hongfu Nü belonged to that second stage…