Bronze Mirror Appraisal

"Ah..."

The heavyset man was stunned. He knew what he had bought. Though Zhang Yang had said it in a teasing tone, the bronze mirror really did not date back to the Qing dynasty. Nor had it been made that morning.

It was a modern imitation. It was worth more than five hundred, but Zhang Yang had not been far off.

This was troublemaking, an attack on the man's business. If Zhang Yang could not back up his claim, the stall owner would not let him leave.

"Young man, you're ruining my reputation. If you can't explain yourself today, don't expect to leave Antique Street," the heavyset man threatened.

Zhang Yang grinned. He had expected this.

"Honestly, you can spot a fake, but you don't say it out loud. That's the rule. How could you blurt it out? If you don't know the rules, don't come to Antique Street and make a fool of yourself."

"He's right. Antiques aren't for hotheaded youngsters to play around with."

"Still, I'd like to hear his explanation."

The onlookers began to chatter. In the antiques trade, buying a fake was called getting fooled. That was the buyer's problem, not the seller's.

If you noticed a problem with something a seller offered, you could walk away, but you did not call it a fake in public.

"Zhang Yang, you don't know what you're talking about. Now we're in trouble. We might not even be able to get away," Cheng Dongxue complained.

"Don't be afraid. If I dared to say it, I can stand by it." Zhang Yang patted Cheng Dongxue's hand gently to reassure her.

"Heh!" Zhang Yang regretted it too. He had been so eager to show off in front of his wife that he had forgotten the rules. But this would not stump him. He could lay out his reasons. "Everyone, calm down and listen."

"Three things. First, the copper-to-tin ratio is wrong. Second, the patina is wrong. Third, take a look here. It's clearly been polished by a modern machine."

Zhang Yang picked up the bronze mirror again and held it up as he spoke.

The crowd leaned in. Experienced antique hunters spotted the problems with all three points. They said nothing, but nodded repeatedly in agreement with Zhang Yang's judgment.

"Then explain exactly what's wrong," the heavyset man said. Zhang Yang's remarks made him nervous. Everything he had said was right, though he might have guessed.

"I won't go into the copper-to-tin ratio. That's entirely a matter of feel, and it takes a great deal of experience to tell as soon as you pick it up. The marks from a modern machine are easier to understand. In the old days, people used files, moving them back and forth, so the marks crossed over one another. A modern machine doesn't work back and forth. It grinds in one direction, and the marks make that obvious."

As Zhang Yang explained, the crowd nodded along.

"As for the patina, don't let the mud on this bronze mirror fool you." Zhang Yang picked up the mirror, stuck out his tongue, and licked the yellow mud on it. He grinned at the crowd. "It's salty. Was this mud used to cure duck eggs?"

"Hahaha..."

The crowd burst out laughing. The heavyset man's face turned purple. Zhang Yang had hit the mark. The mirror was a craft item he had bought in. He had soaked it in yellow mud used to cure salted duck eggs, creating signs of burial and a false patina.

"And that's not all. Salt wasn't the only thing used to make the patina. Chemicals were used to corrode it too. That's why the rust sits on the surface instead of growing naturally from within. So five hundred is actually a generous offer."

Zhang Yang finished and smiled at Cheng Dongxue. The crowd applauded.

"The next generation has surpassed the last. The antiques trade has a worthy successor." An elderly man pushed through the crowd, clapping lightly in delight.

"Wu Daorong! Elder Wu! A master of antiques and a well-known figure in Kyoto," someone exclaimed, revealing who the old man was.

Zhang Yang smiled and nodded. He recognized Wu Daorong, a leading authority in the antiques world. Wu had appeared as a guest on appraisal programs many times and was popular with collectors.

"Elder Wu, I hope I haven't embarrassed myself," Zhang Yang said respectfully.

"A remarkable young man. Sharp eyes, and you got straight to the heart of it. This is the first time I've seen anything like it in years," Wu Daorong said happily.

Few young people entered the antiques trade. Without enough experience, hard lessons, or money, they could hardly establish themselves in it. What he had seen today had truly opened Wu Daorong's eyes.

"This bronze mirror is just as our young friend said. It isn't worth much." Seeing that Zhang Yang was in trouble, Wu Daorong stepped forward to help him and addressed the heavyset man.

"If even Elder Wu says so, then the mirror must be a fake. It's worthless. That young man really knows his stuff."

Others chimed in, and soon the crowd spoke with one voice in support of Zhang Yang.

The heavyset man's face darkened. He had never met a youngster like Zhang Yang. He had thought he had found a sucker he could fleece, only to discover someone with a master's eye. He had lost this sale fair and square.

"If that's Elder Wu's judgment, I have nothing to say."

Still scowling, the heavyset man glanced at Zhang Yang, picked up the bronze mirror, and handed it to him.

"If you like it, young man, take it and have some fun with it!"

The whole affair had been hard on the heavyset man. It would not stop him from running his stall on Antique Street, but his credibility had plainly suffered. He would probably have to find more genuine goods from now on, or even making a living could become a problem.

Cheng Dongxue stood beside Zhang Yang in astonishment. When had he learned to do this? Even Wu Daorong had spoken up for him.

"Young friend, here's my card. It's getting late today, but come back to Antique Street another time. I have a shop here. We can drink tea and talk antiques."

Wu Daozi held out his hand to the young man beside him for a business card, then Wu Daorong personally passed it to Zhang Yang.

Zhang Yang accepted the card and nodded respectfully. "If you'll have me, I'll certainly come."

The crowd dispersed. Zhang Yang looked up. The sunlight had changed color; night was approaching.

"Zhang Yang, you were lucky today. Don't do that again. Your luck won't hold forever," Cheng Dongxue scolded him afterward.

Zhang Yang gave her a sly smile. "Don't worry. In this field, there probably aren't many who can match me. Not even Elder Wu back there, perhaps."

Zhang Yang was not boasting. He was confident. During the thousand years he had spent trapped in the same day, he had had plenty of time to learn. His knowledge spanned all sorts of subjects, far beyond what most people could imagine.

"Elder Wu, wait..."

A man carrying a porcelain vase hurried after Wu Daorong as he was leaving.

Hearing the call, Wu Daorong stopped and waited.

The man had likely brought the vase for Wu Daorong to appraise. Wu Daorong's expertise, however, lay not in porcelain but in bronze, gold, and silver objects.

"Young friend, come back a moment." Wu Daorong took the vase and studied it for a long time before calling out to Zhang Yang.

Zhang Yang might have been lucky once, but twice would be another matter. Wu Daorong was no expert in porcelain, though he knew something about it. This vase was not old enough to justify its price.