Museum

Museums are the diaries of humanity, civilization, nations, and states.

To a certain extent, a nation's museum manifests the accumulation and splendor of its history, recording the glory and shame of its ancestors.

Of course, some museums possess rich collections, housing rare treasures from all corners of the world and every civilization. Beyond proving that their ancestors were pirates, robbers, slave traders, and drug dealers, these collections hold little significance; it is difficult to understand why they feel no shame, but rather pride.

Xiangnan Museum is not exactly world-renowned within China, but in reality, the number of national treasures it holds that are prohibited from being exhibited abroad is second only to the National Museum of China and the Palace Museum (including the Taipei Branch).

The most famous among these are naturally the artifacts related to Lady Xin Zhui, though in Liu Chang'an's memories, he does not have a particularly deep impression of the nobles from the Junsha region.

Ants and nobles alike are merely splashes in the long river of time, countless and indistinguishable. Who could have imagined that time would cast one such splash to bloom before the eyes of modern people, elegant, magnificent, and shocking to the world?

The tomb of a woman who was obscure in Chinese history became one of the world's top ten most precious tombs the moment it was unearthed. Anyone with a modicum of common sense knows that such tombs are too numerous to count in Chinese history, which inevitably stirs a sense of superiority and disdain. Beyond China, there are ultimately many barbarians; even after a few years of prosperity, they cannot change the "Grandma Liu" mentality brought about by the poverty of their ancestors' spirit and civilization.

When Liu Chang'an arrived at the museum, he discovered it was closed for renovations. He had known about this, but he also remembered it being said that it would reopen to the public in 2017. He had not expected the notice to indicate it would be around November 2017.

Liu Chang'an is somewhat impulsive in his actions; he had not investigated beforehand. He simply walked here, found the museum closed, yet felt no disappointment. Without lingering for even a minute, he turned and walked away.

Time to buy groceries; Liu Chang'an planned to buy some mustard greens.

"Little brother!"

A middle-aged man wearing a military-green beret called out to Liu Chang'an. His hair near his ears was somewhat silver, and he was dressed in casual clothes and sneakers, clutching a crocodile-patterned bag under his arm. He beckoned toward Liu Chang'an.

"Here for the museum? Interested in antiques and cultural relics, right?" the middle-aged man said with a smile.

Liu Chang'an nodded, and the middle-aged man handed him a business card: Xiangnan Museum Magazine editor, Zhang Xingliang.

The business card was not exquisitely made, and the printing was quite ordinary, but since it didn't claim he was a manager, chairman, or president, it was a fitting card for an editor.

"This museum won't reopen until at least next year. If you want to see the artifacts inside, you have to go to the warehouse," Zhang Xingliang said, pulling Liu Chang'an to the side of the road.

A security guard at the museum glanced over, and Zhang Xingliang tossed a pack of betel nuts toward him; the guard then walked away.

"Look... we're all familiar with each other. Our museum magazine and the museum are sister organizations. We can enter their warehouse. If you want to take a look, I can take you," Zhang Xingliang said, pointing to the alley behind him.

"How much?" Liu Chang'an asked.

"One hundred!"

Liu Chang'an felt it was a bit expensive. "It'll be free when I come to see it next year."

"Is that the same thing?" Zhang Xingliang said with full confidence. "Little brother, you don't know this, but what's usually on display in the museum are replicas. Most of the originals are in the warehouse... only now can you see all the originals."

"Fine." Liu Chang'an nodded reluctantly.

Zhang Xingliang led Liu Chang'an along, winding through various turns, bypassing the construction area around the museum's perimeter, and arriving at a rolling shutter door. After looking left and right, Zhang Xingliang took out a key and opened it.

Inside was indeed a large warehouse, filled with all sorts of crafts. Several of the "national treasures" of the Xiangnan Museum were prominently displayed in the very center.

The warehouse ceiling leaked a bit of light, and the few lamps in the center swayed shakily. Various "relics" were scattered irregularly around the perimeter and the center. At first glance, they were primarily bronze wares from the Shang, Zhou, and Spring and Autumn periods, along with a large number of Warring States, Qin, and Han utensils.

At the entrance of the warehouse sat a set of chime bells, with a crooked sign hanging next to them: "Chime Bells of the Grand Master of Chu, Usurping the Rites of the Feudal Lords." In the late Zhou Dynasty, the royal power was weak, and many feudal lords and even high officials and nobles frequently usurped the rites... this was also the source of the later feudal royal families' particular vigilance against the usurpation of rites.

In terms of scale and craftsmanship, this set of chime bells was not as impressive as the Marquis Yi of Zeng chime bells housed in the Xiangbei Museum. Liu Chang'an glanced at them and then looked away.

"You should pay the money first," Zhang Xingliang said, snapping his fingers.

Liu Chang'an paid the money and casually picked up a tiger tally. The tally was actually quite exquisitely made, with golden inscriptions shining brightly and vivid features, though the tail was broken, which was a flaw.

"How much for this?" Liu Chang'an asked.

"One hundred."

"Twenty at most."

"This is a cultural relic!" Zhang Xingliang shook his head.

Liu Chang'an looked at Zhang Xingliang seriously. Are you serious?

"Fine, fine, twenty is twenty." Zhang Xingliang waved his hand.

Liu Chang'an paid twenty and tucked the tiger tally into his pocket. Many of the heavyweight relics in the museum actually had very exquisite replicas, prepared for when the originals were being restored or loaned out. Furthermore, the museum had its own store selling souvenirs for tourists to collect, which were also beautifully crafted replicas.

During normal operations, such a tiger tally souvenir would cost over two hundred, but this was a flawed piece. Moreover, Zhang Xingliang seemed to be merely using his work convenience to sell public property for personal gain; for him, it was a cost-free business, so it didn't matter how much he sold it for.

Liu Chang'an then took a liking to a ritual vessel of Zhao Jianzi from the State of Jin, fully named the "Square Pot with Phoenix Pattern Bronze Mirror and Lotus-Shaped Lid." Since he planned to buy some mustard greens today to dry for preserved vegetables, he happened to need a container.

Zhang Xingliang asked for two hundred for this square pot, but Liu Chang'an refused; it exceeded his financial capacity and consumption expectations.

Zhang Xingliang also realized that there was no more oil to be squeezed out of Liu Chang'an, who was not as generous as other tourists who came to the Xiangnan Museum and were unwilling to leave empty-handed.

"Just look around as you please." Zhang Xingliang couldn't be bothered to attend to Liu Chang'an anymore and walked to the side to chew betel nuts.

With Zhang Xingliang gone, the entire warehouse seemed to quiet down. Although these were only replicas and lacked the unique magnetic field of history to stir emotions, the various patterns, shapes, and styles engraved in his mind, along with the names of the relics linked to the prominent figures of illustrious eras, still left Liu Chang'an feeling a sense of reflection.

The owner of the square pot before him, Zhao Jianzi, was the grandson of Zhao Wu, the orphan from the film The Orphan of Zhao, and the son of Zhao Yang.

"Prince Chao has rebelled; why do you all not send troops?" The young and inexperienced Zhao Yang once asked in angry confusion why the Son of Heaven was in trouble while the feudal lords stood by and watched.

"Shi Yang is cunning, and the Handan clan is foolish beyond compare!" Zhao Yang had also been naive once, unable to resist the schemes of Shi Yang to divide the Zhao Clan.

"Does punishment not reach the high officials, and rites not descend to the commoners? At least in my State of Jin, that has become a thing of the past." Zhao Yang cast the tripod of punishment, the first time in the history of the State of Jin that national laws were explicitly announced to the world. He challenged the privileged class based on the principle that "punishment does not reach the high officials," and he challenged the entire class of scholars and officials of the Spring and Autumn period. The Confucian sages, led by Confucius, even attacked him with their words... although this was not something he decided or executed alone.

Those who have truly ruled China, from ancient times to the present, with the exception of a very few, have always been the scholar-official class. Those who challenged this class have all borne posthumous infamy, with various exaggerated or fabricated stories circulating about them. In their accounts, Qin Shi Huang was no different from a bloodthirsty demon, Zhu Yuanzhang was ugly and cruel, and Yongzheng was harsh, severe, and stingy. If one looks closely at history, one realizes that these few men were the emperors who truly dealt heavy blows to the scholar-official class.

Now they are attempting a comeback... Liu Chang'an recalled many things about Zhao Jianzi and gradually revealed a calm smile.

476 BC:

"Sir... give me more, give me another hundred years, and I will surely be able to..."

"..."

"Very well, Zhao Wuxu... should the Zhao Clan face calamity one day, with you in Jinyang, it shall be enough to rely upon."

"Agreed."

The history books record only a single sentence from Zhao Yang to his son Zhao Wuxu: Should the State of Jin face calamity, do not consider Jinyang too distant; you must make it your refuge!

There is no preamble, no explanation as to why Jinyang was sufficient to rely upon, and no record of whom Zhao Yang had once begged for another hundred years of time.