“Pardon me, please have your ticket ready next time.” “I apologize, this ticket is for tomorrow. Please return tomorrow…” For a moment, the scene was chaotic yet orderly; many entered the museum in high spirits, while those attempting to slip in unnoticed were politely turned away.

Naturally, with security guards blocking the way upfront and surveillance cameras watching from the side, those who couldn't manage to sneak past simply had to retreat obediently. After all, in a large city, a basic level of civic compliance is expected.

The doors opened at eight, and it wasn't until past nine that every person with a ticket had finally entered the museum—and not a single ticket went unused. For every ticket sold, an attendee showed up.

Following this, the doors were locked, sealing the thousands outside. Simultaneously, inside the museum, numerous treasures were carefully brought out by dedicated personnel, drawing gasps of awe from the assembled crowd.

If photography hadn't been strictly forbidden within the museum, the scene would likely have been illuminated by a constant flash of light. Yet, even without the glow of flashes, the treasures themselves were dazzling enough to shine brightly.

Seeing these artifacts, many eyes glittered, reflecting the luster of the jewels, causing observers to momentarily lose focus, dazed and captivated. “Truly, they live up to their fame,” one person murmured.

In that instant, many sighed contentedly, feeling that the effort expended to secure their tickets had been entirely worthwhile. As the saying goes: the layman watches the spectacle, but the expert sees the skill.

However, once these artifacts were displayed, experts and laypersons alike were first subdued by their sheer charm, completely mesmerized. After a long pause, some individuals gradually regained their composure and called for the museum staff to demonstrate the profound mysteries held within these treasures.

After all, among these many artifacts, while a few could reveal their secrets simply through direct observation, Others required physical interaction to fully manifest their wondrous characteristics. For instance, the 'Withered Wood Springs to Life' vase, the Zhong Kui painting that reveals itself upon contact with water, the 'Holy Clay Cup' that emits fragrance when filled with plain water, and then… “Wait a moment.” Just then, someone meticulously counting the treasures exclaimed in astonishment, “There’s another cup missing.

Where did it go?” “What cup?” “The one that turns liquor into blood.” As the two spoke, many others realized the omission, inevitably causing an uproar. A missing treasure—this was a monumental issue!

Could it be an inside job? It wasn't entirely unreasonable for people to suspect this.

After all, in recent years, news of thefts from museums across various regions had surfaced repeatedly, often accompanied by implausible excuses, which certainly fueled such suspicions. Of course, the smarter individuals knew better.

These treasures were currently under intense scrutiny; surely, no one would be foolhardy enough, with everyone watching, to pull off such a farce? Amidst the varied speculation, the museum director was compelled to step forward and refute the rumors, declaring righteously that the matter had nothing to do with them.

Rather, it was a decision made by the Xiyi Museum, and they were merely carrying out instructions. As for why the Xiyi Museum would take such action, the director swiftly shifted the focus, immediately inviting Wang Guan onto the stage.

“Thank you all for your concern.” At this moment, Wang Guan was impeccably dressed in a suit, his hair neatly combed in a formal style, complemented by a pair of plain glasses, giving him an instantly mature and composed appearance. He looked at least thirty years old, if not older.

However, Wang Guan’s actual age was not the focus of the audience’s attention; they were far more concerned with the whereabouts of the missing artifact. Especially among the foreigners, with their sharp noses and deep-set eyes, their protests grew louder and more insistent.

In response, Wang Guan remained remarkably calm, offering a gracious smile: “Please rest assured, the item is safe—there has been no accident, and certainly no theft. It has already been returned to the Capital.

There are reasons, naturally, why we brought the item back. Please remain patient, and now, I invite you to carefully admire our replacement exhibit.” As he spoke, Wang Guan gave a quiet signal.

Several security guards stepped forward, cordoning off an open area with tape, and then two more people emerged. These two, both wearing white gloves, held a rolled scroll between them.

At Wang Guan’s gesture, the person holding one end unrolled the scroll, and the two carefully spread it out. Suddenly, a magnificent, long scroll painting was revealed before the audience.

“What is that?” “A painting—a picture scroll.” Those standing further back could not see clearly and had to crane their necks to look. However, those fortunate enough to be standing near the sides saw it very clearly.

Upon realizing it was a painting on a scroll, they were quite surprised. The surprise wasn't that Wang Guan had brought out a painting, but rather the nature of the scroll itself.

For this long scroll was not a landscape or a meticulous gongbi painting; it was a simple line drawing—a baimiao. Thus, at first glance, many were struck with surprise and confusion.

“It looks like a lianhuanhua [comic strip]…” At the same moment, someone blurted out the observation, speaking an undeniable truth. The description was accurate, as the long scroll inherently possessed continuity and narrative quality, technically falling within the scope of lianhuanhua.

“No, it’s not a comic strip; it looks more like the illustrations from novels published in the seventies or eighties.” Several people scrutinized the long scroll, knitting their brows. Their eyes were filled with suspicion: Could something like this truly be precious enough to replace the miraculous cup?

Was there some deception afoot? While these doubts lingered, certain connoisseurs became visibly excited, having discerned the true nature of the work.

“The Illustrations of Confucius’s Sacred Life!” “The lines are fluid, the garments billow in the wind—Wu Dai Dang Feng! Could this be an authentic work by Wu Daozi?” At this moment, a group of experts lost their composure.

Especially the old expert from the day before, leveraging the fact that this was his territory, he stepped right across the caution line to examine it closely. This was only permitted because of Wang Guan's subtle nod; otherwise, security would have intervened.

And it wasn't just the old expert; several sharp-eyed attendees also noticed a few elderly gentlemen standing nearby, beaming—they were the leading experts from the Palace Museum. These individuals had been specifically invited by Elder Qian to lend credence to the authenticity of The Illustrations of Confucius’s Sacred Life and confirm it as a genuine masterpiece for the public.

Not only experts from the Palace Museum, but Wang Guan had also leveraged his connections to invite renowned scholars from Shanghai to appear and authenticate the work publicly. Seeing this situation unfold, the rest of the crowd realized that this seemingly simple lianhuanhua-like scroll was far from ordinary.

They immediately began examining it closely. After careful observation, everyone marveled to discover that while the figures on the scroll appeared to be merely outlined, the lines were incredibly detailed.

Especially the depiction of clothing textures and strands of hair—it was meticulously rendered, possessing an incomparable beauty, a hundred times more vivid and alive than purely mass-produced comics or novel illustrations. The fundamental difference was this: Lianhuanhua or novel illustrations, at their core, were products of printing.

No matter how lively the original draft, the printed version would inevitably appear stiff. However, this long scroll, The Illustrations of Confucius’s Sacred Life, was rendered purely through brush and ink lines.

In different scenes, with different character permutations, there was not a single trace of repetition. The legendary Preface to the Poems Collected from the Orchid Pavilion featured twenty-one variations of the character 'Zhi' written by Wang Xizhi, but in this long scroll, there were easily several hundred different figures depicted.

Naturally, Confucius and his disciples appeared frequently, yet in every distinct scene, their attire, the texture of their garments, and their expressions and postures were rendered with entirely different nuances. Once this fact was recognized, it was clear that the dedication and effort poured into this painting by its creator far surpassed anything achievable in a lianhuanhua or novel illustration.

Under the explanations provided by the experts, the audience finally grasped the value of the item; it could unequivocally be described as a national treasure. It could be stated with certainty that baimiao (line drawing) was the foundation of all pictorial art.

Just as Westerners practice sketching before learning oil painting, ancient Chinese artists began with baimiao. However, the apex of baimiao development was reached in the murals of the Southern Dynasties through the Sui and Tang periods.

During this era, religious painting flourished in Buddhist temples and Daoist monasteries, making murals immensely popular. Consequently, the preparatory sketches for these murals, known as xiaoxiang, naturally became widespread.

Under normal circumstances, these xiaoxiang sketches would be discarded after the mural was completed. Yet, some were preserved, and in the modern era, they have become the most prized artistic works.

Especially those left behind by great masters like Yan Liben, Wu Daozi, and Han Huang—their surviving works are unparalleled masterpieces and deserved national treasures. Instantly, someone began inquiring quietly: “We are familiar with Yan Liben and Wu Daozi, but who is this Han Huang?” “You’re joking!

You don’t even recognize the creator of one of China’s Ten Great Paintings, the Five Oxen?” “That’s sheer ignorance. The Five Oxen is one of the few surviving original silk or paper paintings from the Tang Dynasty and is the oldest extant Chinese painting on paper, truly a treasure of the nation, exceptionally rare and precious…” In ancient times, society was agrarian, placing immense value on cattle and horses.

Therefore, painting themes featuring these two animals remained popular subjects, and people still diligently paint them today. Setting aside horse paintings, such as the Eight Steeds, which boast countless masterpieces throughout history, when discussing oxen, one must mention the Five Oxen.

The great Yuan Dynasty painter Zhao Mengfu once praised and commented on it, stating the five oxen possessed noble spirit, a rare masterpiece of brushwork. In modern times, some even champion the Five Oxen as a supreme national treasure, indicating its elevated status.

However, a rather awkward reality persists: while the Five Oxen is famous, the average person rarely pays attention to its artist, leading to a situation where the work is famous, but the artist is obscure. This is true not only for Han Huang but also for the creators of many famous paintings.

For instance, regarding the Evening Banquet of Han Xizai, perhaps few people could name its artist, the Five Dynasties Southern Tang painter Gu Hongzhong, perhaps even assuming the artist was Han Xizai himself. Similarly, Wu Zongyuan experienced this too.

Despite possessing painting skills akin to Wu Daozi, for various reasons, apart from experts, the general public has never heard the name Wu Zongyuan, suggesting he has been somewhat overlooked. While the common person focuses only on the spectacle and not the details, the discerning experts who closely examined the long scroll immediately reached a preliminary conclusion: the silk used was from the Song Dynasty, suggesting it should belong to Song painting.

However, the scroll’s style was completely imbued with the 'Wu Dai Dang Feng' manner of the Tang Dynasty master Wu Daozi. Perhaps it was a Song artist's imitation of a Tang work.

“No, it is absolutely not a copy…” At that moment, someone spoke up, their voice laced with absolute conviction. 〖Book Web :: Fast Update :: No Pop-ups :: Pure Text :: www.〗RT