Half-Baked

Liu Jinyou looked around everywhere. He was hardly an expert, of course, but with Su Meng accompanying him, she still told him a great deal about the various materials.

This was something Su Meng had specifically studied. Sometimes, when friends came to visit, she would explain a thing or two in response to their questions. She greatly admired the sheer style Wang Yan had when he showed off—always calmly dropping something astonishing, as though it were nothing at all. That effortless air of showing off was something she deeply aspired to...

But Wang Yan really was not showing off. No matter how one looked at it, he had long passed the age of enjoying bragging and strutting around. He had seen more, experienced more, and understood more; to him, it was all perfectly ordinary. Yet to ordinary people, it did indeed look suspiciously like showing off—perhaps the deadliest kind of invisible showing off. Of course, that was only if they knew Wang Yan's identity and standing. If they did not, then there was no question about it: he would look like a complete show-off, and they would not even believe his good things were real.

As they wandered around, Liu Jinyou eventually stopped on the eastern side of the first floor of the main house, in Wang Yan's large study. One entire wall was occupied by an enormous huanghuali bookcase that reached all the way to the ceiling, alongside a massive long desk. A computer sat on one side, while brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones occupied the other, with several books scattered around as well. There was also a zitan table holding a complete tea set. In the corner between the bookshelf and the south-facing floor-to-ceiling window stood a blue-and-white porcelain scroll jar, densely packed with rolled-up calligraphy and paintings.