[[[CP|W:210|H:140|A:C]]] "Ah, that's a good thought," Elder Yang conceded with a knowing smile. "And a crucial one, at that.

If the paper itself is counterfeit, then the imagery certainly cannot be genuine." While the brushwork is paramount in appraising calligraphy and painting, auxiliary evidence—including inscriptions, seals, the texture of the silk or paper, dimensions, mounting, and documentary references—can, under specific circumstances, prove decisive. "Yes, that is precisely what I believe." Wang Guan chuckled.

"From what I gather, Shu Province isn't only famous for Shu Embroidery and Shu Brocade; it's also renowned for its paper." "Indeed. Shu paper boasted famous varieties as early as the Tang Dynasty, such as Yuban, Gongyu, Jingxie, and Biaoguang," Elder Yang’s eyes brightened with excitement.

"Especially the chupi paper produced near the capital, which was exclusively supplied for official documents, contracts, maps, and registers—it was immensely popular." "Exclusively for pictorial use? That simplifies matters considerably." Wang Guan offered a light laugh, extending a hand to gently graze the texture of the Mao Die Tu.

He spoke with certainty: "As the saying goes, three parts painting, seven parts mounting. I can now confirm that the paper used for the mounting is definitively at least a century old." "If everyone looks closely, they will notice the mounting layers have a very naturally aged ochre hue, perfectly clean, utterly devoid of artificial weathering marks." Wang Guan analyzed, "To artificially age new paper, one either spills tea or vinegar on it.

The more meticulous forgers use chemical steaming. But no matter the method, the paper's integrity will inevitably show some irregularity." "An experienced expert can easily discern these anomalies." Wang Guan smiled, "Of course, if Uncle isn't reassured, feel free to take a sample for testing." "Young friend’s insight is profound; I have no cause for doubt." The portly middle-aged man beamed, overjoyed that Wang Guan confirmed the piece was authentic.

How could he risk further unnecessary steps? "Actually," However, at this juncture, Wang Guan continued his steady smile.

"Because, aside from the outer mounting layer, the main pictorial sheet is likely new paper. That dark yellow tint you observe?

That is a tea stain. If you lean in close, you might even catch the faint scent of tea." "What!" The stout man froze, his smile locking in place mid-air.

Simultaneously, Elder Yang asked, astonished, "Young sir, are you suggesting this is paper used for coffin lining?" "Yes," Wang Guan nodded softly. This method, known as 'coffin lining,' is a deceptive tactic.

After artificially aging a newly painted piece, the forger procures a worthless old scroll, discards the original painting at its core, and mounts the new work onto the venerable old borders. This way, if the appraiser lacks sufficient skill or is momentarily careless, they might be fooled.

Naturally, this technique is primarily aimed at duping those who possess some knowledge of calligraphy and painting but lack true mastery. "Impossible.

You must have misjudged it." At this point, the portly man turned skeptical of Wang Guan’s judgment. "If you don't believe me, there's nothing I can do about it, which is why I suggested the test," Wang Guan spread his hands.

Sometimes, the most difficult part of authenticating an object isn't finding the evidence, but finding the evidence and failing to persuade the other party. After all, many people cling rigidly to their convictions.

Moreover, anyone involved in collecting has inevitably been fooled into buying fakes at some point. Yet, even when the error is pointed out, they refuse to accept it.

Many will even pull out reference books, comparing the piece repeatedly against the established criteria until they find a rationale to confirm their purchase was correct. Call it self-consolation or self-deception, but that is often the pattern.

The truth is, everyone should know that besides outright fabrication, antique counterfeiters aren't fools; they meticulously copy from texts and images found in expert volumes. There will inevitably be details that seem plausible yet are subtly flawed.

However, the most brilliant forgers can truly pass off the imitation as the genuine article. "It's naturally yellowed; how could it possibly be a tea stain?" The portly man muttered to himself, his face shifting from pale to ashen, clearly deeply unsettled.

"Little Yu, don't fret. Let me take a look," Elder Yang offered reassurance, picking up his magnifying glass to examine the piece once more.

The middle-aged man seemed to clutch at a lifeline, urgently pleading, "Elder Yang, please examine it thoroughly. This is absolutely an old piece, a genuine work by Zeng Youzhen." Elder Yang observed it carefully for a while before shaking his head gently, letting out a sigh laced with regret.

"Elder Yang!" The stout man’s heart hitched with anxiety. "Little Yu," Elder Yang spoke softly, "I’ve seen this type of paper before.

This is our local Jiajiang Bamboo Paper, also known as Daqian Calligraphy and Painting Paper." "During the reigns of Kangxi and Qianlong in the Qing Dynasty, Jiajiang Bamboo Paper was officially designated as tribute paper, used for imperial examination scrolls and court needs. During the Anti-Japanese War period in the Republic of China, Zhang Daqian traveled to Jiajiang twice to develop new paper.

After the trial batches succeeded, to commemorate his contribution, the Jiajiang paper mills named the new stock 'Daqian Calligraphy and Painting Paper'." "Zhang Daqian painted some of his works on this very paper. However, by the time of the war, Zhang Daqian's mother, Zeng Youzhen, had been deceased for many years." Elder Yang concluded delicately, "Little Yu, you understand what I'm implying, don't you?" "Elder Yang, I..." The portly man frowned, letting out a long, bitter sigh.

Elder Yang’s meaning was painfully clear: the paper in the Mao Die Tu was this Daqian paper. But when Zhang Daqian developed the new paper, Zeng Youzhen was already dead; how could she have used it to paint the Mao Die Tu?

"Alas, I paid tuition again," the portly man forced a wry smile. "Elder Yang, please forgive my amateur ways." "Little Yu, don't dwell on it.

Who among collectors hasn't been burned a few times? Learn the lesson and be more cautious next time," Elder Yang consoled him.

"Besides, the imitation is quite well done. You can keep it to admire yourself." "Mm." The portly man nodded.

He seemed experienced enough with buying duds; this small setback wouldn't crush him. Instead, with a hint of seeking further guidance, he presented another scroll to Wang Guan.

"Young friend, would you mind lending me your eye again, to look at this painting?" Wang Guan hesitated, then noticed Elder Yang give a slight nod, and casually took the roll. After all, what is real cannot be hidden, and the stout man himself wasn't afraid of further disappointment, so why should he be?

He carefully untied the cord and slowly unfurled the scroll, revealing a scene of elegant ink bamboo that instantly caught Wang Guan's eye. The portly man explained from the side, "When I acquired this, the seller claimed it was a bamboo painting by Zheng Banqiao.

But I checked the records; his style typically featured few, slender bamboo branches—a miniature, expressive style. This piece, however, depicts the stalks and leaves quite realistically, not quite like Zheng Banqiao’s authentic work." "Since you knew that, why did you buy it?" Wang Guan asked, genuinely surprised.

"I wasn't entirely sure when I acquired it," The portly man admitted sheepishly, "Especially when I looked at it, the bamboo leaves seemed sharp as swords, incredibly lifelike, possessing an indescribable spirit. I studied it for a long time, and the more I looked, the more I felt it was a fine object, so I took it." ........................

Weekend plea: Votes, please... C