Uncle Wu looked at Old Zhou's memorial portrait, and sorrow welled up inside him. He had never expected that another childhood companion had passed away. Aside from one who had gone abroad and two who had settled elsewhere, not one of the friends he had grown up with remained in the capital. How could that not make him sad?
After paying his respects to Old Zhou, Uncle Wu handed the three thousand yuan condolence money to Little Zhou and said, "Uncle Wu can't help you much. Apart from using this money to buy paper offerings for your father, spend the rest however you see fit. You should find a job and start living a proper life."
Little Zhou took the three thousand yuan, and his eyes immediately lit up. He said to Uncle Wu, "Uncle Wu, you're really the only person who can help me now. My father left behind several calligraphy and paintings. Sorry to trouble you, but could you help me arrange their sale?"
When Uncle Wu heard this request, he nearly turned and left. The man was simply impossible to reason with. His father had only been dead for a few days, yet he was already thinking of selling off everything his father had left behind. And the money he got would certainly be poured into those unreliable ancient jade pieces of his. The man had clearly gone mad. There was no saving him.
But after thinking it over, Uncle Wu sighed inwardly. If the price wasn't too high, he might as well buy them. If they remained here, there was an eighty- or ninety-percent chance they would eventually be sold off cheaply. Rather than let them be ruined that way, he might as well buy them himself. At least it would preserve a memento of his old friend.
"Then take us to have a look." Although Uncle Wu had already decided to buy Old Zhou's calligraphy and paintings, it was obviously impossible for him to suddenly develop a good attitude toward Little Zhou. Thus, his tone was somewhat unfriendly.
Little Zhou didn't care. Who cared about the man's attitude? As long as he was willing to buy the calligraphy and paintings, that was a good attitude to him.
Next, he led the two of them into a small room next door. The moment they entered, a pungent odor shot straight into their faces. Both men frowned and covered their noses. Only after quite some time did they gradually get used to it.
The smell was none other than the chemical odor emanating from the fake ancient jade Little Zhou had bought. As everyone knew, most fake ancient jade nowadays was soaked in chemical agents to imitate natural erosion. As a result, the jade would inevitably retain some of the agents' smell.
One or two pieces with a faint odor might not be noticeable, but there were tens of thousands of fake ancient jade pieces in this small room. With all those smells accumulating together, how could it not be overpowering?
After leading the two inside, Little Zhou said smugly, "Uncle Wu, what do you think? My collection is pretty impressive, right?"
Seeing how pleased he was with himself, Uncle Wu was speechless. He urged him, "Little Zhou, take out the calligraphy and paintings. It's getting late, and we still have things to do later."
"All right, Uncle Wu. Just wait a moment."
Little Zhou answered Uncle Wu and walked toward a dark, damp corner. From there, he took out three scrolls.
Uncle Wu was both furious and heartbroken. To preserve calligraphy and paintings properly, they had to be kept in a relatively dry place at the very least. A damp environment like this was one of the greatest taboos in preserving them. There wasn't even a box. At this rate, all three works would become damp and moldy within a few months.
Seeing that Uncle Wu was about to curse Little Zhou, Chu Chen hurriedly stopped him. There was nothing more to say to someone like this. If he had ever listened to reason, his mother would not have been angered to death by him.
Little Zhou casually placed the scrolls on the table and said, "Uncle Wu, see if you're satisfied."
Before looking, Uncle Wu first let out the pent-up breath in his chest. Then he and Chu Chen walked to the table, carefully opened the scrolls, and examined them.
Of the three works, two were paintings and one was a calligraphy piece. All three had identifiable and renowned creators.
They first examined the calligraphy. The entire piece was about five square chi in size. It was a running-script work written by He Yu in 1912.
He Yu was one of the sixty prominent painters of the late-Qing Shanghai school. He had first studied under Hu Gongshou (Hu Yuan) and Ren Yi (Ren Bonian), and later became a direct disciple of Zhu Menglu. He excelled at painting birds and flowers and enjoyed creating large, exquisite works, most of which featured auspicious themes.
However, he had made a living by selling paintings for sixty years and left behind a great many works. Thus, although his paintings were quite good, given his reputation, their prices were not especially high in the antiques market, where rarity and quality determined value.
As for this running-script work, the strokes flowed smoothly yet were steady and powerful. The artistic conception of the creator at the time could also be seen between the lines. It could be considered one of He Yu's better calligraphy works.
Unfortunately, the work had not been well preserved. The paper already bore some mold spots caused by dampness, which affected the quality of the entire piece. A work that had originally been worth six or seven thousand yuan could now fetch no more than around four thousand.
Seeing the condition of the calligraphy, Uncle Wu and Chu Chen couldn't help worrying about the other two paintings. But then they remembered that the three works had only come into Little Zhou's hands two days ago. They had probably already been in this condition when Old Zhou owned them. Thinking of this, the two felt slightly relieved.
Next, they examined a landscape painting by Wang Xuehao. The painting was about three square chi in size and had been created in 1821.
Wang Xuehao was a moderately famous painter of the mid-to-late Qing dynasty who excelled at landscapes. His landscape techniques had been passed down directly from the renowned Qing court painter Wang Yuanqi. He had initially studied under Li Yude, later turned to painting from life in middle age, and used light, elegant colors. He himself said that he had captured the carefree spirit of the Yuan people.
The landscape before them still displayed Wang Xuehao's consistent vigorous brushwork and elegant spirit. Its texturing and washes each had their own distinctive style, while its austere, antiquarian air overflowed across the paper. However, the painting happened to come from the period in his later years when he was changing his style, and he had used broken-brush techniques in it.
Yet this change, constrained by the era, was no longer fresh enough to establish a new style, nor had he managed to completely transform himself. As a result, the overall quality of his painting suffered. Although this painting could still be considered one of his fine works, its quality affected its price. Given its condition, its market value was probably at most five or six thousand yuan.
The final work was by an artist named Zhang Jian. He too was a moderately famous painter of the Qing dynasty, though he had lived during the Kangxi era. He had only begun studying at the age of thirty and could be called a late bloomer. His calligraphy and poetry were both exceptionally accomplished.
Zhang Jian was best known for painting bamboo and was deeply loved by people from all walks of life at home and abroad. The work before them was a Stone Bamboo Painting.
However, after the two slowly unfolded the painting completely, Uncle Wu's brows furrowed. There were obvious traces of water damage on the paper, and it looked as though water had dripped onto it not long ago. Seeing this, Uncle Wu glared fiercely at Little Zhou.
Little Zhou felt embarrassed. He hurriedly explained, "Uncle Wu, I didn't do it on purpose. I accidentally dripped water on it yesterday when I was looking at the painting. Besides, look—the water only got on the blank area, didn't it?"
The water indeed had not touched the ink, or the painting's value would have dropped drastically. Even so, once xuan paper got wet, it developed yellow stains. If they were not removed immediately, cleaning them later would become troublesome. After buying this painting, they would certainly have to ask a mounting expert to deal with it.
After Uncle Wu explained the details, Little Zhou was dumbfounded. He asked weakly, "Uncle Wu, does that mean the painting is worth less than it was originally?"
"What do you think?" Uncle Wu retorted impatiently before turning his attention back to the painting.
While Uncle Wu had been speaking with Little Zhou, Chu Chen had kept staring at the spot touched by water. He had always felt that something about that area was different. There seemed to be a faint trace of ink, which aroused his suspicions.
But moving closer to inspect it would have been inappropriate. There were two other people beside him. Uncle Wu was no problem, but Little Zhou was not one of his own and was especially irritating. Even so, besides using his eyes, he had another heaven-defying method: his special ability.
After using his special ability, not only was his earlier suspicion confirmed, but he was also so delighted that a faint smile unconsciously appeared at the corners of his mouth.
Bamboo was one of the Four Gentlemen, as everyone knew. It represented serenity, elegance, integrity, and moral character. Therefore, whether a bamboo painting was good depended especially on whether it conveyed these qualities through the painting.
This painting did not disappoint Uncle Wu or Chu Chen. Several clusters of bamboo grew from among the rocks on the scroll. Their lengths varied naturally, their distribution was pleasingly balanced, and the brushwork was pure, elegant, and unconventional, full of lively, flowing movement. It truly displayed Zhang Jian's usual style, portraying the bamboo with elegant bones, a chilly spirit, and sturdy, dense vitality.
Furthermore, the seals, inscriptions, and collectors' seals on the painting could all be verified against one another, confirming that it was an authentic work by Zhang Jian. Most remarkable of all, the work was about fifteen square chi in size. Among Zhang Jian's works, that was extremely rare and could be called exceptionally precious.
After examining Old Zhou's three works, the two could confirm that all three were genuine. However, because of the artists' reputations and the works' conditions, their value was not particularly high.
Uncle Wu asked Little Zhou, "Little Zhou, I've finished looking at them. They're indeed pretty good. I can take all three. Tell me, how much do you want?"
Little Zhou's eyes rolled, and he named his price. "Uncle Wu, you know I'm short of money now. For the sake of having watched me grow up, you can take these three works for forty thousand yuan."
"You!"
Uncle Wu flared up when he heard Little Zhou's price. The first two works together were worth no more than ten thousand yuan. As for the final one, although it was about fifteen square chi and could be considered rare among Zhang Jian's works, that was precisely why the composition did not look quite as complete as it might have.
Taking the artist's reputation, the painting's aesthetic quality, and its condition into account, fifteen thousand yuan would already be a good price. Even at auction, it could sell for only between twenty and thirty thousand yuan at most.
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