At Elder Yang's urging, Elder Huang finally unrolled the entire scroll. After a brief assessment, he immediately frowned, "It seems a bit of a waste to use such fine mounting materials for this ink bamboo painting."

At this very moment, the drops of water Wang Guan had placed on the painting had completely evaporated, and the seals on the ink bamboo drawing had naturally vanished. Elder Huang couldn't discern any clues.

As a master in his field, Elder Huang appeared placid, but he possessed a degree of haughtiness; ordinary things simply couldn't capture his attention. Now, Elder Yang had brought him a seemingly unremarkable ink bamboo painting to examine, which felt to Elder Huang almost like being mocked.

"Haha, Brother Huang, you haven't noticed anything either, have you?"

Elder Yang smiled slyly, "Take a closer look, is there anything amiss with this painting?"

"What could be amiss?"

Elder Huang muttered, a hint of confusion in his expression, and re-examined the ink bamboo painting.

After a while, Elder Huang shook his head, "The bamboo leaves in the painting are somewhat lifelike, leaning towards a realistic style, but the brushwork is mediocre—not like the work of a renowned master. Moreover, there isn't even a signature. I suspect this is merely a piece done by an ancient scholar for his own amusement. However, this person had self-awareness; knowing the painting wasn't good, he simply left off the inscription."

"But I don't know who ended up with this painting to have it so meticulously mounted. I suspect the mounting materials are probably worth more than the painting itself," Elder Huang joked. "Of course, it's also possible the painter was some high official or nobleman, and his subordinates had it mounted to curry favor."

If they hadn't known the painting's background, Wang Guan and the others would have surely found Elder Huang's speculation quite reasonable.

"Elder Huang is widely experienced; your judgment must be sharp."

At this, the middle-aged man in the suit and leather shoes seized the opportunity to chime in, "There's also the possibility that it was just the work of an ordinary scholar, acquired by some gentry or wealthy landowner obsessed with pretension, who didn't appreciate it at all and simply enshrined it."

Although he knew the middle-aged man was flattering him, Elder Huang still felt pleased and said affably, "Young Zhao, perhaps your conjecture is closer to the truth."

"Not at all, not at all," the middle-aged man quickly replied with humility.

Just then, Elder Yang chuckled, a touch of schadenfreude in his voice, "Brother Huang, aren't you usually acclaimed as a grand expert in calligraphy and painting appraisal? You've finally been fooled. I already warned you this painting was not simple, yet you still couldn't see it."

"You say I missed it?"

Elder Huang was taken aback, his brow furrowed. He sounded displeased, "Brother Yang, you aren't deliberately making sport of me, are you? What exactly is wrong with this painting?"

"I knew you wouldn't believe me." Elder Yang smiled warmly, pointing to the slightly damp area on the painting, and said mysteriously, "Brother, look closely. What do you think might be here?"

"What could be here?"

Sensing Elder Yang wasn't just being theatrical, Elder Huang focused his gaze, even reaching out to touch it lightly. In an instant, faint crimson tinges appeared again on the slightly damp paper surface.

Seeing this, Elder Huang was stunned. He immediately grabbed his magnifying glass and began studying it with intense concentration. Furthermore, he didn't just focus on the damp spots; he meticulously examined the entire painting, front and back, several times over.

After a long while, Elder Huang set down the magnifying glass and pondered with a furrowed brow.

"Brother, have you discerned anything?" Elder Yang asked with a gentle smile.

Elder Huang seemed lost in thought and didn't answer immediately. Instead, he inquired, "Brother, where did you acquire this painting?"

"I didn't acquire it; it belongs to this young man here."

Elder Yang pointed to Wang Guan and sighed with deep emotion, "Brother Huang, we must admit we're getting old. Today's younger generation is far superior to us in our day."

"Elder Yang, you humble the younger generation with such words,"

Wang Guan smiled, "No matter how strong we are, it is built upon learning from our predecessors. Without the accumulated experience and meticulous guidance of those before us, we would have to start from scratch; there would be no foundation to speak of."

"Young man, you are too modest,"

Elder Yang shook his head, "Even with the same teacher, if the student lacks effort or talent, it is all in vain."

"That is true,"

Yu Feibai deeply agreed; after studying for several years, he wasn't half as capable as Wang Guan was within a month of entering the field.

It was at this point that Elder Huang asked, still looking puzzled, "Brother Yang, who are these two young men...?"

"Just two young men I met from Jingdezhen at the Songxianqiao Market."

Elder Yang smiled conspiratorially, "It was quite a coincidence. I personally witnessed this young man here, for five hundred yuan, quietly purchase a genuine Agarwood bracelet from a pile of fakes. Then, he traded that Agarwood bracelet for this ink bamboo painting. The twists and turns involved could easily be made into a movie."

"Oh! Trading the Agarwood bracelet for this painting is a loss, isn't it?" the middle-aged man in the suit exclaimed in astonishment.

Elder Yang said humorously, "We think he lost out, but he believes he made a profit. So, he brought it to Brother Huang to get your expert judgment."

"Nonsense," Elder Huang snorted. "What 'expert judgment'? He clearly wants to see me make a fool of myself."

"Haha, saying that, Brother, you have noticed something?" Elder Yang laughed.

"I wouldn't have been certain before, but knowing your character, Brother, I know you wouldn't deliberately try to fool me."

As he spoke, Elder Huang couldn't hide his excitement. He gently stroked the ink bamboo painting, his voice trembling with fervor, "I always thought the so-called 'painting within a painting' was just an exaggerated myth, something out of legends. I never expected to see the real thing today."

"'Painting within a painting'!"

The middle-aged man in the suit was aghast at the sound of it.

"Whether it is a painting within a painting or not, we must ask Brother Huang to display his masterful skill in unveiling the picture," Elder Yang said solemnly. "This painting is no trivial matter; it holds immense cultural value. It cannot be allowed to gather dust any longer; the time has come for it to see the light of day again."

"Don't worry, leave everything to me," Elder Huang nodded. He rolled up the painting, didn't exchange another word, and hurriedly went upstairs, his figure disappearing around a corner.

"Brother Huang is excited by the challenge and has gone to his studio to get busy," Elder Yang explained. "The unique skill of unveiling a painting requires not only superb technique but also complete concentration and a quiet environment. Let's not disturb him."

Wang Guan and the others nodded lightly. In truth, they understood that such specialized artisan skills often held a core secret; it wasn't something that one could observe and learn nearby.

While they waited, the middle-aged man in the suit smiled cordially towards Wang Guan and said, "Young friend, my name is Zhao Qian, and I am the person in charge of the Zhengyaxuan branch in Chengdu."

"Zhengyaxuan?"

Wang Guan blinked, having never heard of it, but still nodded politely and smiled, "Mr. Zhao, hello!"

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