This is the third update for today; if you still have monthly passes, please show your support. Thank you.

Wang Guan naturally felt obliged to express humility in response to the praise from Elder Zhou and Elder Xu. However, at this moment, no one paid him any mind, as the object was suspected to be the Hetu Luoshu (River Chart and Lo Shu), prompting everyone to study it closely.

“Something feels off…”

After observing for a while longer, a senior expert hesitated, saying, “The markings of the Hetu Luoshu don’t look like this. Besides, if it were a piece of tortoise shell this large, it wouldn’t only be inscribed with the Hetu Luoshu, would it?”

That was certainly true. Although the Hetu Luoshu carried immense prestige, the actual diagrams were rather simple. Yet, within those simple forms resided profound philosophies, which, to some eyes, encompassed everything, holding the ultimate truths of the world.

However, from these few pages of rubbings, everyone could surmise that the tortoise shell from which they were taken must have been enormous, perhaps the size of a small table, at least one or two meters in diameter.

A shell of that magnitude, even if not a thousand or ten thousand years old, was certainly at least seven or eight hundred years old. Moreover, the shell fragments were etched with numerous lines and small dots, seemingly dense yet arranged with pleasing variation. No matter how one looked at it, it did not resemble the Hetu Luoshu.

Of course, this was also partly due to the scarcity of the rubbings, meaning insufficient information made definitive judgment difficult.

“Didn’t someone mention that the Palace Museum also has similar rubbings?”

At the same time, someone pondered aloud, “Could these be scattered fragments?”

“That’s hard to say…”

While speaking, someone suggested, “Why don’t we make a call back there and ask someone to look them up and fax them over?”

“That’s a good idea.”

Action trumped hesitation. One expert immediately pulled out his mobile phone to contact his colleagues at the Palace Museum. He explained the situation here, and the recipients, also very interested, agreed to help search their archives.

A moment later, the call ended. All that remained was to wait. They didn't just sit idly; everyone resumed their seats, sipping tea while debating the origin of the rubbings. About an hour later, a response came from the Palace Museum: they had located those few pages of rubbings and confirmed that the paper used for the rubbings was indeed the same golden foil paper used by the Ming Dynasty imperial workshop.

Hearing this news, the group erupted in delight. After some digital maneuvering, they received the image files of the rubbings and immediately printed them out. In total, there were about a dozen rubbings; some could be pieced together, while others remained separate sheets. Regardless, once laid out, the outline of the tortoise shell fragments became much clearer.

But the most crucial element was the content of the rubbings: those lines and the small and large dots.

“Just as I expected…”

At first glance, Elder Zhou immediately laughed, “These should be celestial charts.”

“Celestial charts?”

A nearby expert thoughtfully paused, then nodded in agreement, “They probably are. Legend has it that the ancient Imperial Astronomical Bureau did have a custom of engraving celestial charts onto tortoise shells. Perhaps they were copied for safekeeping, leading to these rubbings.”

“It’s not impossible,” Elder Xu sighed lightly. “What a pity that a fine celestial chart ended up scattered everywhere, incomplete.”

“Brother Xu,”

Hearing this, Elder Zhou seized the opportunity. “Since that’s the case, could you part with these few pages of rubbings?”

“Ah…”

Instantly, Elder Xu offered a wry smile. “I knew you coming here wouldn’t be for anything good; you’re always eyeing my treasures.”

“That’s not fair,” Elder Zhou quickly shook his head. “It’s not me asking now, but I am formally inviting you on behalf of the Palace Museum to discuss this matter.”

“Alright, don’t pressure me with the Palace Museum,” Elder Xu said testily. “If you want them, just take them. They’re just a few scraps of paper; I don't particularly value them.”

“Good that you know,” Elder Zhou said, showing no false modesty. He carefully gathered the few pages of rubbings and smiled, “I’ll send you a commemorative banner later.”

“No need,” Elder Xu waved his hand gently. “I already have more than enough banners hanging in my study; if you send another, I won’t have space left.”

Elder Xu’s casual remark was enough to make Wang Guan feel ashamed. The awareness of these older gentlemen was truly something the modern young generation couldn’t match; Wang Guan admitted he couldn’t do the same.

Well, it was a generational gap, a divergence in perspective that couldn't be easily bridged.

As Wang Guan mused silently, time flew, and it was suddenly noon. Following Elder Xu’s invitation, they all shared lunch. Afterward, they planned to wander around to enjoy the scenery when Wang Guan received a call from Mr. Anderson.

“A café?”

Wang Guan sounded slightly surprised. “Someone wants to see me… Alright, I’ll be there shortly…”

While speaking, Wang Guan ended the call and turned back. “Elder Zhou, Mr. Anderson called… It doesn’t seem to be about appraisal, but something else…”

“Go and see him,” Elder Zhou said calmly. “Stay adaptable; if anything unexpected happens, call us.”

“Understood!”

Wang Guan nodded lightly and proceeded to the meeting. Soon, he arrived at a café with a refined atmosphere, where Mr. Anderson had been waiting for some time.

It wasn’t just Mr. Anderson. Upon entering, Wang Guan noticed a brown-haired middle-aged man, looking to be in his forties, sitting next to him. Dressed impeccably in a sharp suit, his hair was meticulously combed, giving him the air of a manager from a major corporation.

“Mr. Anderson.”

Wang Guan scanned the room and greeted them.

“Wang, you’re here, please sit down,” Mr. Anderson naturally stood up to welcome him, then introduced, “This is Mr. John, a friend of mine, who currently works at…”

“Ahem.”

In an instant, Mr. John interrupted Mr. Anderson’s introduction and extended his hand first. “Hello, Mr. Wang.”

When Mr. John spoke, Wang Guan realized his Mandarin was quite good. Although not as flawless as Mr. Anderson’s, the pronunciation of every character was clear, and even if slightly stiff, it was perfectly intelligible.

“Hello…”

Wang Guan responded naturally. After shaking hands, they all sat down.

After some initial pleasantries, the three fell silent. Wang Guan observed coolly, sensing that Mr. Anderson was clearly there merely to make the introduction and was now stepping aside. As for Mr. John, he seemed to be carefully choosing his words, calculating how to begin.

In the ensuing silence, the atmosphere grew somewhat awkward. It was only after the waiter served the fragrant coffee that Mr. John finally got straight to the point. “Mr. Wang, our boss has taken an interest in an item in your museum and wishes to purchase it. We hope you can help make this happen…”

“Which item?” Wang Guan was momentarily stunned, then his expression became thoughtful. “What is it?”

“A cup,” Mr. John stated frankly. “We heard that this cup can turn white liquor into red wine, and our boss is very interested in acquiring it for research.”

“As expected…” Wang Guan smiled, then gently shook his head. “That is the treasure that anchors our museum—the Zhenguan Zhi Bao—do you understand? It is absolutely not for sale, and cannot be handed over to others.”

“Mr. Wang, please don’t rush to refuse; we are very sincere.”

As he spoke, Mr. John retrieved a photograph from his briefcase and carefully passed it over. “Our boss intends to exchange this item for it.”

“What is this?”

Wang Guan glanced casually and was immediately startled. “An animal head…”

After one look, Wang Guan frowned deeply. What Mr. John had presented was one of the Yuanmingyuan Zodiac heads, which had caused such a huge stir in recent years.

It was widely known that the Zodiac heads of the Old Summer Palace were originally part of the fountain outside the Haiyan Hall, cast in red bronze during the Qianlong reign of the Qing Dynasty. The name Haiyan was derived from the phrase Heqing Haiyan (When the Rivers Run Clear and the Seas are Calm), signifying national peace and prosperity. Ironically, during the Anglo-French allied invasion of 1860, these heads were scattered and lost overseas.

For reasons unknown and at a time that couldn't be pinpointed, the Twelve Zodiac Heads of the Yuanmingyuan had somehow become the epitome of lost Chinese cultural relics, a potent symbol. Many people felt that collecting all twelve heads would signify a victory—a victory for national pride and dignity.

However, Wang Guan felt that many people overlooked a crucial point: the Zodiac heads of the Yuanmingyuan were, fundamentally, just twelve elaborate spouts. Not that they lacked value, but their perceived worth had been vastly inflated, perhaps deliberately by those with vested interests.

In truth, among genuine experts, such items were not considered rare or exceptional.

This was evident; otherwise, one might notice oddities when reviewing the returned heads. To date, the Rat, Ox, Monkey, Tiger, Pig, and Horse heads had returned to China. The Dragon head was rumored to be in Taiwan, well-preserved, but unlikely to surface soon. Setting aside the Dragon, were the other bronze sculptures not dramatically inflated in value through hype?

If these items were not linked to the Yuanmingyuan and the invasion by the Anglo-French forces, their value would never have been so inflated. It was this connection that conferred a new kind of value upon them: the tangible evidence of national humiliation.

Wang Guan continued to examine the photograph. It showed the Chicken head, whose whereabouts were currently unknown. Since the current map of China resembles a proud rooster, Mr. John seemed overly confident that Wang Guan would agree to this exchange.

Wang Guan responded with a cold smile, tossing the photograph down dismissively. “This is your sincerity?”

“That is correct.”

Sensing Wang Guan’s indifferent attitude, Mr. John felt a degree of confusion, trying to ascertain if Wang Guan was employing a tactic of feigned disinterest. After all, his investigations suggested that Chinese people harbored a deep sentimental attachment to the Twelve Zodiac Heads; surely seeing one should elicit unrestrained joy?

“If this is the extent of your sincerity, then I must say your boss is dreaming far too big.”

At this point, Wang Guan’s expression was one of open disdain as he shook his head. “Trading a broken water faucet for the legendary Holy Grail? Your boss is getting ahead of himself.”

“Holy Grail?”

Mr. John instantly froze, suspecting he might have misheard. Meanwhile, Mr. Anderson’s eyes flickered, but he showed no surprise, indicating he had already suspected something of this nature.

“Uh, I meant the cup,”

Wang Guan quickly tried to correct himself as if he had let something slip. “I mean, the miraculous cup.”

However, Mr. John seemed not to hear the correction. After a few minutes of dazed confusion, he gradually regained his senses, vaguely beginning to understand why his boss was so fiercely determined to acquire that particular cup…