“The most meticulous parts of Emperor Huizong of Song’s bird-and-flower paintings are the plumage and the eyes.”

At this moment, an expert held forth: “It is said that when painting the feathers, he habitually used a double outline for fine detail, making the feathers look scattered yet the form lively and natural. Especially when depicting the birds’ eyes, he often used dark lacquer dots, subtly raised above the silk or paper, seeming almost ready to move.”

“The birds in this Precious Touched-Up Drawing of a Rare Bird are just like this, filled with a superb essence of life captured through both form and spirit, shifting from a charm of simple sincerity to one of exquisite agility—that is, where form wins by the subject's interest, and spirit wins by the natural charm...”

Amidst the critique, Wang Guan and the others nodded in agreement. Whether a painting was good or not offered an immediate, intuitive feeling, naturally leaning them toward the position that these were genuine relics. After all, what was often termed 'doubtful' was sometimes merely opportunism on the part of certain individuals.

This was not strange; whether in ancient times or the present, in any field, opportunists exist. The appraisal industry is no different. When experts pick flaws in an object, it may not be because they genuinely believe it is problematic, but perhaps to establish a novel opinion or to take a gamble. After all, with advances in science and technology, some items previously deemed authentic might now be pronounced forgeries.

For this reason, some naturally take shortcuts, trying to bet on luck. If they happen to be proven right, it becomes their honor, their pride, something they are sure to boast about incessantly. It is precisely this phenomenon that causes the industry to be rife with conflicting voices, a chaotic mess of charlatans and bizarre occurrences happening frequently.

Therefore, the reason outsiders perceive the world of antique collecting as so murky is largely due to those who fear peace and quiet. After all, only in chaos can they fish in troubled waters and reap substantial rewards.

However, Elder Zhou and the others possessed a strong sense of integrity; they spoke only the truth—if it was genuine, it was genuine. If not, it was not, free from any personal bias. After meticulous examination, they unanimously agreed that the items were indeed authentic masterpieces.

“There’s no doubt about it; this is the one,” an expert sighed with a smile. “Having these three treasures makes this trip entirely worthwhile.”

“You have too low a standard; better things are still to come.”

At the same time, an expert nearby gestured with his chin: “See that? The imperial seal!”

The seal in question was, of course, not the Imperial Seal of State bearing the inscription Entrusted by Heaven, To Be Enjoyed for Generations Eternal. It was one of the seals belonging to the Qing Dynasty emperors.

After all, besides the Twenty-Four Imperial Treasures, Qing emperors commissioned countless other seals. Emperor Qianlong, for instance, had innumerable seals carved in his lifetime, said to number over ten thousand. Most of these seals were looted and lost overseas during the late Qing period. In recent years, these imperial seals have frequently appeared in major international auctions, their prices inflated sky-high.

Some argue that this constitutes a second plunder once the Chinese people regained wealth—a convoluted way of taking advantage again. While this assertion might be slightly biased, it is not entirely without merit.

However, the current situation was better: someone had opened the vault door, allowing everyone to select items freely. Such an opportunity was rare, and Elder Zhou and his colleagues were certainly not going to let it pass, keeping their eyes as wide open as possible to avoid missing any precious treasure.

An imperial seal is naturally a treasure, especially an emperor’s seal, which is doubly rare. Modern people might lack the necessary sense of immersion, but in ancient times, a seal functioned as an identification card, symbolizing a person’s power and status.

Historical documents often recount instances where, upon capturing a city, officials were executed, and their official seals were then used to command the populace, who would obey without question.

There are also accounts of officials who, en route to their posts, died either by illness or assassination by bandits, only for someone else to impersonate them, using the official seal as proof, with virtually no one doubting the deception.

Modern people might dismiss such anecdotes as legendary tales. In reality, they were true occurrences. One must remember that ancient transportation was extremely primitive. While not as exaggerated as the saying of small states where neighbors never interacted, many people truly never traveled more than a hundred li from their birthplace in their entire lives.

This speaks to the deep-rooted attachment to one's homeland—the reluctance to leave one's native soil. Primarily, once they left, many never had the chance to return to the countryside. Dying away from home and being buried elsewhere was a common outcome.

Primitive transportation naturally led to information asymmetry. In an era without cameras, telephones, or the internet, an inscribed seal became the token used to verify an individual’s identity. Therefore, possessing an official seal allowed for impersonation. In essence, the official seal was the symbol of authority; people respected the seal more than the person—the seal held more weight than the individual.

Understanding this, Elder Zhou and the others recognized the value of the imperial seal even more clearly—not just its economic value, but also its underlying traditional cultural value. Thus, upon discovering the seal, they immediately gathered around to examine it.

Upon close inspection, they noted the jade material had a dark yellow hue, giving it an ancient and profound appearance. Furthermore, unlike the typical square seal, this one was round, resembling a pillar. The top of the pillar bore simple carvings, somewhat reminiscent of mountain shapes, yet with the sharp edges smoothed away.

At this point, one expert picked up the seal for closer observation, focusing intently on the characters etched on the seal face. Although the text was reversed, the expert’s vast experience allowed him to decipher it after a brief look: “Wufu Tang (Hall of Five Blessings).”

“Ah, it’s Emperor Yongzheng’s seal.”

The others immediately reached a conclusion upon hearing this. Every emperor maintained private quarters within the palace, adopting elegant hall names. For instance, Emperor Qianlong had the Hall of Three Rarities, used for collecting calligraphy and paintings. As for the Hall of Five Blessings, that was Yongzheng’s usual retreat for leisure, relaxation, and cultivation of character.

“What a pity; it’s just a hall name seal.”

Simultaneously, one expert lamented, “If it were the Imperial Review Treasure of Yongzheng, or the Seal of Yongzheng’s Edict, or one bearing inscriptions like It is Hard to Be a Ruler, Revere Heaven and Venerate Ancestors, or Cherish the Virtuous and Love the People, it would be infinitely more precious.”

“Having a hall name seal is good enough,” Elder Zhou chuckled. “Yongzheng was not Qianlong; he commissioned relatively few seals, and even fewer survived the turmoil of war. To see even one now is fortunate; we shouldn't ask for more.”

“That’s true…” Thinking this way, everyone heartily agreed, ceasing their fixation on the inscription content to appreciate the texture of the jade and the style of the carving. After all, the quality of a seal is largely reflected in the material, the carving skill, and the inscription. Fine material paired with fine craftsmanship complements each other perfectly. If the carving and inscription were poor, it would simply be a waste of good material.

However, with an emperor’s seal, there was no such concern.

Leaving aside the jade material—even though Yongzheng was known for frugality while cleaning up the massive messes left by Emperor Kangxi—his status ensured he would never lack superior jade. As for the carving and inscription, these were executed by master craftsmen from the court; the characters were etched with an iron-hook and silver-stroke elegance, possessing a sense of both rugged strength and delicate beauty. It was exquisite.

Royal production was inherently a guarantee of excellence. Undeniably, this piece was a rare treasure.

“This… is pending!”

Even though it was an imperial seal, it was, after all, a private seal rather than an official decree proclaiming the emperor’s will to the world. Its cultural value was inevitably slightly less than the preceding calligraphy and paintings, so it could only be placed in the pending category. Given the limited exchange value available, they had to proceed with extreme caution and could not make a hasty decision.

“Wait, what is this?”

Just then, someone next to the seal discovered a strange object nearby.

“What is it?”

The others followed their gaze and saw an object roughly the size of a round plate, but its material was unclear—it was quite peculiar. For a moment, everyone grew more interested, and Elder Zhou picked it up directly for inspection.

“Eh.”

Weighing it slightly, Elder Zhou was momentarily startled: “It feels like tortoiseshell.”

At the same time, everyone else got a clear look. The object resembled a round disc, but since it had been facing upward, nothing revealing could be seen. Now, however, with the back facing up, they clearly discerned some markings. From these markings, they could tell it was tortoiseshell, and not a complete piece, but a section of a shell.

Furthermore, etched onto this piece of shell were seemingly random markings—a mix of lines and dots—that baffled them, leaving them unable to decipher the meaning.

If this were before yesterday, they would certainly have been mystified. But after visiting Elder Xu yesterday, seeing this piece of tortoiseshell inevitably brought a different light to their eyes, giving them a sense of destiny at play.

“Is it that one?”

At the opportune moment, an expert whispered, “It looks similar.”

“More than similar, I think it is it.”

Another signaled: “Look, these lines and dots are almost identical. But the edges seem polished; it’s unclear if they were deliberately cut or if it cracked apart accidentally…”

“Whatever the reason, it is only one piece, which is a great pity.”

Hearing this, everyone nodded in agreement. A fragment is inherently inferior to the whole; this was a commonly accepted truth. Even though one might speak of gaining insight into the whole by observing a small part (peeking at the leopard through a tube), it was often out of necessity. If conditions allowed, who would not want the complete object?

A fragment is just a fragment. Even if one can glean some information from it, sometimes it can lead to misjudging the larger picture—seeing a leaf but missing the entire mountain. Understanding this, everyone sighed with regret.

“Let’s see if there are any other pieces of tortoiseshell…”

At this point, some people, unwilling to give up, began rummaging through the various safes. Unfortunately, they found nothing more of the shell. However, in losing ground in one area, they gained in another; unable to find the tortoiseshell piece, that person discovered another rather strange artifact.

“Come over and look at this; what is it?”

At this call, everyone naturally turned to look. The object turned out to be a stone, but faintly visible upon its surface was a coiling dragon, its scales, head horns, claws, and mane all clearly discernible. Most importantly, the dragon pattern on the stone was not artificially carved but was a naturally formed texture.

“A marvelous dragon-veined stone.”

At first glance, everyone marveled, momentarily setting aside the issue of the tortoiseshell.

After a thorough examination, everyone confirmed that the stone’s pattern was indeed naturally formed—a spontaneously created dragon shape, wonderfully intriguing. If seen in ancient times, it would certainly have been regarded as an auspicious omen… (To be continued)