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When someone objected, the crowd naturally turned to look.

Curiosity is inherent in everyone. Some prefer stability, while others favor twists and turns. For those who enjoy watching events unfold, the bigger the commotion, the better—they only fear a lack of drama. When someone finally stood up to refute the expert’s view, many grew excited, immediately sensing a good show was about to begin.

“Huh.”

At that moment, Wang Guan glanced over and recognized the speaker: none other than Old Mr. Kong, who had recently established the Dongxu Museum in the capital. Upon returning to the capital, he had heard Old Man Qian mention that Kong had gone visiting friends; Wang Guan hadn't expected to find him in Shanghai.

Despite his surprise, Wang Guan couldn't afford to be impolite and quickly stepped forward to greet him.

“...Let me go take a look.”

Old Mr. Kong, however, had no patience for pleasantries at that moment. With Wang Guan’s permission, he immediately bypassed the security guards and moved toward the long scroll to examine it. Yet, unlike the expressions of awe on others' faces, his was complex—certainly containing amazement, but dominated by an intense, almost indescribable excitement.

Seeing this, Wang Guan’s heart stirred, and he began to ponder. Old Mr. Kong’s surname was Kong; could he possibly be connected to the Kong family of Qufu? It wasn't an unreasonable suspicion, as, in China over the past two millennia, the name of Confucius—the Sage—was so monumental that anyone surnamed Kong often invited such associations.

After all, Confucius’s renown was too potent. Regardless of whether someone surnamed Kong had a direct lineage to the Sage, they were usually happy to claim him as an ancestor. Based on the theory that people sharing a surname were related within five centuries, it wasn't entirely an unfounded claim. More importantly, having a sage as an ancestor never hurt one's standing.

“If you claim this isn't a copy, what is your assessment then?”

At this point, one of the experts inquired. He wasn't challenging the assertion; after all, he had stated initially that this was merely a preliminary judgment requiring further verification. If Old Mr. Kong had an alternative view, discussion was welcome.

When appraising artifacts, while maintaining one's own judgment is crucial, obstinacy is counterproductive. Openness leads to clarity; partial clarity leads to obscurity. Gathering insight from others' evaluations could certainly serve as a useful reference.

“This is not a Tang painting, but a genuine Song Dynasty work,” Old Mr. Kong stated with absolute certainty. “The artist is Wu Zongyuan.”

“What?”

The crowd reacted with surprise.

Of course, some were surprised simply because they didn't know who Wu Zongyuan was. Others were surprised by Old Mr. Kong’s confidence in attributing the scroll directly to Wu Zongyuan. However, on second thought, it didn't seem entirely impossible...

For those versed in art history, the name Wu Zongyuan would not be unfamiliar. His style is universally acknowledged to bear a striking resemblance to that of Wu Daozi. Even today, some still debate whether the national treasure, the Eighty-seven Immortals Scroll, is the authentic work of Wu Daozi or the masterpiece of Wu Zongyuan.

The styles are simply too similar; without seals or signatures, no one can claim 100% certainty about the creator, which naturally maintains the controversy.

However, Old Mr. Kong’s tone was so definite, as if he held all the cards, which struck many as unusual. An expert from the Palace Museum recognized Old Mr. Kong and asked directly, “Brother Kong, do you have some basis for saying this?”

“I certainly do have a basis.”

As he spoke, a trace of reminiscent melancholy crossed Old Mr. Kong’s eyes. “My surname is Kong, and this painting is of the Sage’s Deeds (Shengji Tu). Do you really think I would lack certainty?”

“Hmm?”

In an instant, some people began to grasp the implication, while more remained confused. Just then, someone voiced the key insight: “Brother Kong, are you suggesting this painting was once a treasure held by the Kong Residence?”

As a lineage spanning over two thousand years, the family had remained standing even through dynastic changes. Few would believe they held no collections whatsoever. Especially after the Republican era, with complex domestic and international forces at play, many individuals surely targeted the Kong Residence’s treasures.

Yet, contrary to expectation, the Kong Residence's collection didn't seem as vast as imagined. Much of the wealth accumulated by the Kong family, one of the Four Great Families of the Republic era, was reportedly acquired through opportunism, not ancient inheritance.

Some argued that the family of Kong Xiangxi was not the direct lineage and thus hadn't inherited the wealth accumulated over two millennia by the main branch. However, this was also hard to reconcile, as the last Hereditary Duke of Yen (the title associated with Confucius’s descendants) fled overseas before the founding of the PRC. Yet, studies showed this final Duke’s life was apparently not extravagant, falling short of boundless wealth.

This led some to believe that the supposed two-thousand-year accumulation of treasures and immense fortune was merely legend. Others hypothesized that the Kongs, sensing trouble, might have quietly buried their assets. But during the turbulent period of destroying the "Four Olds," the Kong Residence was inevitably raided, and yet no significant finds were reported. Following that era, the legends surrounding the Kong Residence’s hidden treasures gradually faded. Still, the Palace Museum experts, having lived through that time, had heard the rumors and couldn't resist testing the waters with a cautious inquiry.

Old Mr. Kong, however, avoided the direct question, instead countering: “Does everyone here know about the Hall of Sage’s Deeds (Shengji Dian) in the Qufu Kong Residence?”

“The Hall of Sage’s Deeds?”

At that moment, someone suddenly realized: “Right, I almost forgot. The scenery depicted in this long scroll is strikingly similar to the stone carvings in the Hall of Sage’s Deeds. Could they share the same origin?”

“Whether they share the same origin is unclear, but there is certainly a profound connection,” Old Mr. Kong replied.

Prompted by his suggestion, many people recalled the connection. After a brief comparison, speculation mounted, fueling their curiosity to discover the truth.

At this juncture, someone voiced the question most people were concerned with: “Brother Kong, are you implying that this long scroll is actually the sample used for the carvings in the Hall of Sage’s Deeds?”

“It is not exact, but it is not far off,” Old Mr. Kong nodded. “You can check the historical records and learn that the Hall of Sage’s Deeds was constructed during the reign of Emperor Zhenzong of the Song Dynasty. Before the stone carvings were made, there were woodblock prints. The model for those woodblocks was drawn and painted by Wu Zongyuan himself, and only after receiving the Emperor Zhenzong’s approval was it passed to artisans for carving within the Hall.”

“After the woodblocks were completed, the original pictorial sample was carefully preserved by the Kong family. It was passed down through generations, but it suddenly disappeared around the late Ming/early Qing period.”

Old Mr. Kong paused, then stopped hedging, speaking frankly: “This event is recorded in some of the surviving notes passed down within the Kong family. I had assumed the scroll had been destroyed in the chaos of war; I never expected it to still exist in the human world.”

“Look here—the seal impression at the end of the scroll bears the characters Maoxian. This was the style name of Kong Yanshi, the forty-fifth generation descendant of the Kong family. During the reign of Song Emperor Zhenzong, he served as the Magistrate of Qufu, inherited the title Duke Wenxuan, and was responsible for the expansion project of the Kong Residence…”

Old Mr. Kong meticulously recounted these details, selecting representative seal impressions to illustrate a clear line of provenance, confirming its lineage from generation to generation. However, the records abruptly ended in the late Ming period, confirming Old Mr. Kong’s assertion that the item was lost around that time.

“I never imagined the piece would fall into Brother Qian’s hands,” Old Mr. Kong sighed, his tone tinged with a hint of resentment. “Why didn't he mention it at all when I visited his residence last time…”

Wang Guan heard this but pretended not to notice. He couldn't exactly explain that the item didn't belong to Old Man Qian, but that he had only recently discovered it himself. While that revelation would certainly cause a sensation, it might also give local cultural authorities grounds to demand he hand the artifact over.

Regardless, with Old Mr. Kong’s confirmation, everyone finally understood the scroll’s true origin and its immense value. It was undeniably another rare treasure, possessing extraordinary aesthetic merit.

Most importantly, it offered novelty. Recently, with strong media support, the public had become intimately familiar with the treasures on display. Although they had expressed awe and appreciation during their earlier viewing, the element of surprise was somewhat diminished. Now, however, it felt like an unexpected gift, naturally bringing great joy.

It was certain that once the news spread, it would trigger a new wave of public interest.

But that was a matter for later. After detailing the scroll's history, the group of experts tactfully stepped aside, clearing the space for ticketed visitors to observe it closely.

Meanwhile, Old Mr. Kong sought out Wang Guan, seemingly intending to demand an explanation.

Seeing this, Wang Guan quickly spoke up, “Old Mr. Kong, about this painting…”

“I’m not here to ask about the painting,” Old Mr. Kong waved his hand dismissively, then hesitated. “Are you free later?”

“What?” Wang Guan was slightly taken aback. “Old Mr. Kong, you’re looking for me?”

“It’s not me looking for you, but a friend who wishes to make your acquaintance.” Old Mr. Kong pondered. “Once he learned we knew each other, he asked me to convey his regards, and he’d like to host a luncheon today to properly entertain you. Are you available?”

“I don’t have much scheduled these two days; I am relatively free,” Wang Guan frowned slightly. “But who exactly is it that wishes to meet me?”

His implicit question was: Did this person want to meet him purely out of curiosity, or did they intend to use him for some purpose? It wasn't that Wang Guan was naturally suspicious or prone to overthinking; past experiences necessitated caution. Since taking responsibility for this touring exhibition, he had dealt with all sorts of people, some of whom had ulterior motives.

Wang Guan had grown accustomed to this. No matter how roundabout or oblique their attempts were, he would feign misunderstanding, much to their disappointment. Yet, faced with significant potential benefits, some people never gave up, relentlessly contacting Wang Guan, which annoyed him, though he couldn't always evade them—especially now that Old Mr. Kong had extended the invitation; he had to show respect.

“A friend,” Old Mr. Kong replied. Sensing a softening in Wang Guan’s tone, he smiled. “Young friend, you needn't worry excessively. He merely wants to connect with you; there are no hidden agendas.”

“I hope that’s truly the case…”

Wang Guan certainly didn't believe such a simplistic platitude, but he smiled outwardly. “Very well, if someone is treating, it would be foolish not to go. Oh, can I bring along two friends?”

(To be continued)