Modern forgeries certainly wouldn't use bone tools to make holes. They all used electric tools or small knives, which generally left spiral patterns—something that definitely didn't exist during the Hongshan culture period.
As for polishing, people in those days used animal hide or jade-cutting sand, repeatedly rubbing the jade to polish it. The fat in the hide would be released during the rubbing and adhere to the jade's surface, making it brighter and more lustrous.
Nowadays, people use electric machinery to polish jade. First, they use an electric plastic brush for the initial polishing, also called rough polishing. Then they use a "wool" brush for the second round, and finally a cotton brush for fine polishing. Some forgers also use animal hide or jade-cutting sand to rub the jade repeatedly.
No matter how skillfully these two methods are used, they can never fully reproduce the effect of genuine Hongshan jade. Usually, a careful look through a magnifying glass is enough to expose the difference. Yet from beginning to end, Old Zhou hadn't even taken out a magnifying glass. The result was obvious.
As for "looking more," if Old Zhou had learned a little more, he would have known that in the more than twenty years from the 1970s and 1980s to the present, only three Jade pig dragons had been excavated. A few others had previously been treated as beast-shaped jade artifacts from the Shang and Zhou periods and collected by museums.
After the Niulianghe Hongshan Culture Site was excavated, those beast-shaped jade artifacts were eventually confirmed to be Hongshan culture's Jade pig dragons. A few more had been collected from private sources, bringing the total to roughly twenty. Judging from the number of stone burial mounds discovered so far, one hundred Jade pig dragons was probably already the absolute limit.
With so few of them in existence, for one to casually appear in the hands of a peasant "woman" was astonishing. Anyone with even a little knowledge of the field would know that such a situation had to be treated with the utmost caution.
Most importantly, if he had learned a little more about the market, he would have known that the Jade pig dragon he bought was exactly the same shape as one sold at last year's autumn auction. That was precisely why the appraiser laughed the moment he saw it when Old Zhou asked someone to authenticate it.
After all, which dealer in the antiques trade wasn't shrewd? Among these people, they could often make the dead sound alive and come up with a story for anything. Even Old Zhou had done plenty of that sort of thing.
So when newcomers entered the antiques trade, being fooled wasn't frightening, and neither was stepping on a "land mine." As long as they weren't greedy, even if they misjudged something or stepped on a "land mine," their losses usually wouldn't be great, much less ruinous. They could even learn from the experience. That was how people in the antiques trade gained wisdom from setbacks.
But once greed took hold, bankruptcy might not be far away. Old Zhou was a living example of that.
"Ah, Old Zhou really went crazy dreaming of money!"
After hearing Boss Feng's account, Chu Chen sighed deeply as well. Still, he wasn't surprised by Old Zhou's ending. His "nature" had always been like that—he valued money and profit too highly. Otherwise, he wouldn't have "taken advantage of acquaintances" back then.
"Young brother, you came too late. Old Zhou's shop and all the goods inside were transferred yesterday by that prodigal son of his." Boss Feng shook his head and sighed.
At that, Chu Chen was speechless. He had heard about Old Zhou's son, who was a complete prodigal. His wastefulness wasn't like other people's, involving eating, drinking, prostitution, and gambling. Instead, he squandered money on antiques.
Since Old Zhou was in the antiques business too, how could his son have gone broke doing the same thing? It was because Old Zhou's son had refused to learn calligraphy and painting appraisal from his father and had insisted on collecting ancient jade instead. That in itself wasn't a problem; with proper study, he could have become skilled. But he had learned only a little, grasped a scrap of "surface knowledge," and decided he was incredibly capable.
The ancient-jade market—or rather, the antiques trade as a whole—was the worst-hit area for counterfeiting. A beginner like Old Zhou's son, who had learned only a scrap of "surface knowledge" and couldn't even be considered halfway competent, had plunged straight into it. The result was obvious.
Some newcomers to the antiques trade were good at summing up their experiences. After being fooled, they learned their lesson and improved their knowledge. But a small number not only refused to learn from their mistakes, they also believed everyone else was wrong and trusted only their own opinions. Such people had already become obsessed, and no number of mistakes could ever teach them enough.
Old Zhou's son was exactly that kind of person. Because of him, much of the Old Zhou family's property had been squandered. He had even angered Old Zhou's wife to death, yet he still stubbornly went his own way. In a fit of rage, Old Zhou simply stopped managing him and cut off his financial support.
In truth, Old Zhou's son had also played a part in what happened to Old Zhou. After all, his son was no longer young, and parents always hoped their children would marry and establish themselves. For his son's sake, Old Zhou had wanted to save more money, so that if he passed away one day, his child would still have some security.
But Chu Chen felt that with Old Zhou's son's "nature," no amount of money would have been enough; he would have squandered it all. Look at him—Old Zhou had only been dead for a few days, and the shop and everything else had already been transferred. The money he received would probably be used to tinker with ancient jade again.
"Ah, his son may be like that, but I still had some ties with Old Zhou. I should go pay my respects."
With that thought, Chu Chen called Uncle Wu and told him the whole matter again.
When Uncle Wu heard the news, he was initially unable to believe it. After hearing what had happened, he let out a long sigh of grief. At the end of the call, he told Chu Chen to stay at Baoguo Temple while he hurried over to meet him. Then they would go together to Old Zhou's home to pay their respects.
After seeing Chu Chen finish the call, Boss Feng asked, "Young brother, did you come to Old Zhou's place to buy some goods? Why not come over and take a look at mine?"
Chu Chen gave him a faint smile. Boss Feng had probably told him so much because he thought there might be a business opportunity. But it didn't matter where he bought goods, as long as they met his requirements and the price was right. So he smiled and said:
"Boss Feng, my name is Chu Chen. You can call me Little Chu. I did come to Old Zhou's place to buy some goods, but my standards are fairly high. They have to at least catch my eye. Otherwise..."
"Hehe, Little Chu, I understand what you mean. To be honest, Old Zhou's goods were indeed fine, but mine aren't bad either. Talk is cheap, so let's take a look first. If you really don't like anything, then we won't make a deal, but we'll remain friends. Isn't that right?" After saying this, Boss Feng ushered Chu Chen inside.
Boss Feng wasn't exaggerating. The calligraphy and paintings in his shop were indeed no worse than those in Old Zhou's. Some of the works were by teachers and students from the Beijing Academy of Fine Arts. He said he had cooperated with some of them: he provided the venue, while the teachers and students provided the works, and the profits were divided according to an agreed ratio after the pieces sold.
After looking around, Chu Chen finally selected three works: a landscape, Three Sheep Opening Prosperity, and a peony painting. All three were quite well done. Their artists were also somewhat famous. In the end, he spent 3,200 yuan, which was a fair price compared with the works and should earn him at least double that amount.
"Very good. Boss Feng's things really are excellent. Let's keep in touch from now on. If you get any good works, please let me know." After saying this with a smile, Chu Chen handed him one of his business cards.
Chu Chen's straightforwardness in doing business made Boss Feng very happy. Customers like him were exactly what dealers liked best. He exchanged business cards with Chu Chen and nodded. "Of course!"
Just then, Uncle Wu called as well, so Chu Chen hurriedly said goodbye.
Old Zhou's family now lived in a house passed down from his ancestors, near a bus station somewhere in the southern part of the city. Many freelancers lived in the surrounding area, which was filthy and disorderly and had something of a slum atmosphere.
Old Zhou had lived there because of his son's prodigality. In the past, his family had owned another property near Uncle Wu's home. But Old Zhou's son had borrowed money to buy antiques and lost disastrously, so Old Zhou had ultimately been forced to sell that house to pay off the debt.
Given his circumstances, it was no wonder Old Zhou valued money so highly, eventually leading to the tragedy that had occurred.
"Knock, knock, knock."
It was only the third day since Old Zhou's death, yet the gate of his home was tightly shut. Uncle Wu stepped forward and knocked.
"Who is it?!"
An impatient voice came from inside. Only after quite a while did the person inside open the door.
The one who opened it was a man in his early thirties—Old Zhou's son, Zhou Jude. Considering his usual behavior, his name was deeply ironic. He was not someone who accumulated virtue; he scattered it instead. When he saw Uncle Wu and Chu Chen standing outside, his impatient expression finally forced out a faint smile.
"Oh, it's Uncle Wu. Did you come to pay respects to my father?"
Seeing his expression, Uncle Wu grew displeased. "Little Zhou, your father passed away. Why didn't you call me? If Little Chu hadn't gone to your father's shop today and heard the news, I still wouldn't have known!"
Little Zhou led them into the house as he spoke. "Uncle Wu, I couldn't help it. My father died suddenly, and he didn't leave me anything. My aunt came over when he was cremated, tossed down a thousand or so yuan, and left. With that money and what little we had at home, we could barely afford a burial plot. Where would I get the money to hold a funeral?"
Hearing this, Chu Chen inwardly grumbled, You angered your own mother to death. Did you really think your aunt would come help you arrange the funeral? With the way you are, the fact that your father left you any money at all was already generous.
Uncle Wu, however, said unhappily, "So that means you didn't have to notify anyone?"
The three of them crossed the courtyard and arrived at the room where Old Zhou had lived. Apart from a simple funeral altar, the place had already been completely cleared out. Seeing this, Chu Chen couldn't help thinking, He really is a prodigal son!
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