At this moment, Elder Zhang pondered, turning to ask Zhang Qing. Although he was fairly familiar with the items on the third floor, he couldn't claim complete knowledge. After all, things came and went annually, resulting in some changes. His last visit to inspect the collection was over a year ago. In that time, there were surely minor alterations to the third-floor holdings.

"Uncle-Grandpa, you know I don't handle those matters."

However, Zhang Qing shook his head in confusion. "I'm not very clear on what's here, either."

"Oh."

Elder Zhang nodded and got straight to the point. "Wang Guan, stop holding back. Just tell me what item you've chosen. With me vouching for you, they won't go back on their word, so speak freely."

"No rush, I'll tell you the details later, Elder Sir," Wang Guan replied with a smile. "As for now... the Daoists seem to want to discuss something with me."

Longhu Mountain's banquet for guests wasn't solely attended by Zhang Qing. Several other Daoists were present; while attending to the guests, they had been overly attentive yet kept hesitating to speak, clearly having a request.

Not only Wang Guan noticed this, but Elder Zhang was also perfectly aware of the situation.

"What else could it be?"

Elder Zhang, being straightforward and preferring directness, cut to the chase. "It’s about the Luminescent Resin, of course. They were just asking me if that resin is truly as miraculous as rumored..."

"Ahem."

One Daoist appeared slightly embarrassed, yet still held a degree of skepticism. "Layman Zhang, it's not that we don't trust you, but the story sounds rather fantastical. Until we see the actual object, we cannot readily believe it."

From this remark, it was clear this Daoist was not related to the Zhang family line.

Although the Heavenly Master of Longhu Mountain bore the surname Zhang, it didn't mean the Heavenly Master Zhang could command absolute authority. In reality, the power structure of Longhu Mountain was complex, allowing even those with different surnames to hold high positions.

During the Ming Dynasty's Jiajing era, the Daoist Shao Yuanjie, who was highly trusted by Emperor Jiajing, hailed from Longhu Mountain. Though not surnamed Zhang, he was granted the title of 'Zhiyi Zhenren' by the Emperor, overseeing the Chaotian, Xianling, and Lingji Temples in the capital and commanding all Daoism.

This showed that although the lineage of Longhu Mountain, much like the Emperor, followed a hereditary system, they practiced a division of power, offering opportunities to capable individuals to rise, ensuring collective strength, which was the source of Longhu Mountain's glory.

It stood to reason that if they didn't understand the principle of 'many hands make light work,' Longhu Mountain likely wouldn't have survived to this day, nor achieved its current status as one of the four great altars of Daoism.

Of course, compared to ancient times, Longhu Mountain was certainly less prominent now. Especially after the miraculous rise of the Banshan Temple, Longhu Mountain, which had long harbored ambitions, became quite envious, compelling them to seek Wang Guan's assistance once again.

Renting the Zitan agarwood beads was just the first step, but hearing about the marvelous effects of the Luminescent Resin was another delightful surprise. If they could confirm its authenticity, they certainly couldn't afford to miss out.

"What, you don't even believe my word?"

Elder Zhang glared at them. "Do you think I would lie?"

"We wouldn't dare, we wouldn't dare..." the Daoist quickly replied with a placating smile. "We would never doubt the words of Layman Zhang, it’s just... hard to believe, we can’t accept it immediately."

"Believe it or not," Elder Zhang said dismissively. "When Wang Guan invites someone to write a magnificent piece using that resin adhesive, you will know the truth."

"Why must you invite someone else?" Just then, the Daoist suddenly smiled. "Layman Zhang, have you forgotten we have a master calligrapher right here?"

"Hmm?"

Elder Zhang realized. "You mean Daozhen? That's right, he is indeed a master calligrapher, but unfortunately, he only knows how to imitate the work of others; he will never become a true master himself."

"Who is that Daozhen?"

At the same time, Wang Guan also asked out of curiosity, then chuckled. "Elder Zhang, that assessment might be a bit biased. Many famous calligraphers started by imitating masters. Only after building a solid foundation did they develop their own style and ultimately become masters. So, imitation isn't necessarily a bad thing."

"That’s because you don't know the specifics," Elder Zhang shook his head. "Others imitate famous masters' works to draw from various strengths, studying the brushwork techniques of masters throughout history, then analyzing and integrating them to create their own style. But this man? He can be described in one word: specialized."

"Specialized in imitating one person's calligraphy?" Wang Guan blinked and smiled. "That’s not bad either. If you thoroughly research one person's style, it’s easier to innovate."

"Not good at all," Elder Zhang scoffed. "He doesn't specialize in studying one person's entire body of work; he specializes in imitating one specific calligraphy manual. He has been copying it for over twenty years; it’s entirely imprinted in his mind. He could write it perfectly even with his eyes closed."

"However, because of this, his writing habits have become deeply ingrained. If you ask him to write something different from that one manual, it looks like a child’s scribbling—utterly painful to look at."

As he spoke, Elder Zhang sighed. "If this were ten years ago, there might have been a chance for recovery. But now... he is completely ruined; there is no room for salvage."

Elder Zhang's demeanor and tone held a clear sense of 'loving deeply, hating intensely.' As he spoke, he glared fiercely at the Daoists, as if they were the culprits who had destroyed a master calligrapher.

The Daoists lowered their heads guiltily, offering awkward smiles, unwilling to meet Elder Zhang's gaze. Seeing this, Wang Guan grew even more curious and couldn't help but ask, "Elder Zhang, which specific manual does he specialize in imitating?"

At that moment, one Daoist interjected before Elder Zhang could speak, smiling broadly. "If Layman Wang is interested, why not go take a look yourself?"

"Is that so? Fine," Wang Guan paused slightly, then agreed. He knew the Daoist was setting a trap, but since he held the initiative, he wasn't worried about falling into it.

"In that case, let’s go then."

In truth, everyone had largely finished eating. With this pretext, the dinner concluded naturally, and under the guidance of several Daoists, they slowly made their way to a room.

There, Wang Guan saw the man named Daozhen. He looked about forty, tall and thin, sporting a small goatee on his chin, and with his wide Daoist robe, he possessed the bearing of a true sage.

"Elder Zhang, you have arrived."

Seeing Elder Zhang approach, Daozhen was visibly pleased and greeted him warmly.

Entering the room, Wang Guan looked around with interest. It was quite spacious, perhaps forty to fifty square meters. However, the furnishings were simple and rustic: besides a bamboo bed in the corner, there was only a long, wide desk and a few chairs.

On the desk, various stationery items were arranged with meticulous order. On a small rack, there was a row of over twenty brushes of different sizes.

Wang Guan examined them closely and noticed all the brushes had been used, not merely decorative props. Furthermore, beneath the desk lay stacks of Xuan paper, piled nearly as high as the desk itself. More than half of these sheets were speckled with ink stains, clearly the result of Daozhen’s persistent practice.

"Daozhen, have you finished dinner?"

An elder Daoist smiled gently. "This Layman is a distinguished guest of Longhu Mountain, and he is quite interested in calligraphy. If you have time, please write a piece for him."

"Understood."

Daozhen paused briefly, perhaps already accustomed to such requests, then immediately nodded in agreement. He swiftly fetched a roll of Xuan paper, spread it out, pressed it flat with a paperweight, then purified his hands before grinding the ink.

As he prepared to write, Elder Zhang commented with some feeling, "Specialization has its advantages. At least he is completely familiar with the material; he doesn't need to adjust his state of mind to get into character. Unlike some calligraphy masters who can achieve nothing if their minds are unsettled."

"Of course, when those masters enter their state and inspiration strikes, it births a masterpiece worthy of being passed down. But no matter how inspired Daozhen becomes, his work can never escape the limitations of those who came before him. Thus, the drawbacks outweigh the benefits," Elder Zhang sighed repeatedly.

Perhaps because he had voiced these opinions too often, the Daoists remained unmoved, and even Daozhen himself seemed to pay no heed, focusing intently on grinding the ink.

Soon, the ink was ready, and Daozhen picked up his brush to begin writing.

"Be serious now, show us your true skill," one Daoist whispered as a reminder. Daozhen appeared thoughtful, then nodded slightly, held his breath, and his expression became solemn. Holding the brush with his right hand and dipping it in ink, he lightly adjusted his sleeve with his left, then his brush moved like a dragon soaring and a snake dancing across the pristine white paper.

"Above is Huang Ting, below is Guan Yuan..."

Wang Guan glanced over and was immediately surprised. "So it’s the Huangting Jing (Classic of the Yellow Court)? I thought it would be the Dao De Jing (Tao Te Ching)."

"Wait..."

In an instant, Wang Guan shed his careless air, his expression stiffening. "This is the Huan'e Tie (Goose-Exchanging Post)."

Huangting Jing and Huan'e Tie—different names, but carrying different meanings. Anyone familiar with Daoist classics certainly knows the Huangting Jing is a book on cultivating the Tao and nurturing life.

However, the Huan'e Tie is a famous piece in the history of calligraphy, rumored to be by the Sage of Calligraphy, Wang Xizhi. Originally on yellow silk, it was later carved onto stone during the Song Dynasty; the original is lost, and only rubbings remain today.

There is a legendary tale associated with the Huan'e Tie. As is well known, Wang Xizhi was exceedingly fond of geese. A Daoist in Shanyin wished to obtain a piece of Wang Xizhi's calligraphy. Knowing his weakness for geese, the Daoist specially gathered a flock of fat, large white geese and let them roam where Wang Xizhi frequently passed.

Wang Xizhi indeed took the bait. He asked the Daoist to sell him the geese, but the Daoist claimed he wanted no money, only that Wang Xizhi transcribe a scripture for him. Wang Xizhi happily agreed, writing for half a day, and then happily took the geese home in a cage. Because of this amusing anecdote, later generations referred to the Huangting Jing written by Wang Xizhi as the Huan'e Tie.

Yet, Wang Guan knew that the authenticity of the Huan'e Tie has been debated throughout history. The original account of Wang Xizhi trading scripture for geese is recorded in the Southern Dynasties' On Calligraphy Letter, which stated that what Wang Xizhi wrote was the Dao and De scripture; later, for unknown reasons, this evolved into the Huangting Jing.

But regardless of the debate over authenticity, the Huangting Jing Huan'e Tie has inspired many celebrated calligraphers throughout its transmission, such as Zhiyong, Ouyang Xun, Yuyang Shunian, Chu Suiliang, and Zhao Mengfu.

Therefore, the dispute over truth does not diminish the value of the Huan'e Tie...