Zhuo Yu Feng Yang Chapter 16
byChapter 16: The Exchange Fair Opens, A Narrow Encounter
The venue for the South City Antique Exchange Fair was set up in the ground floor hall of the Municipal Stadium.
On opening day, just as dawn was breaking, collectors and stall owners began entering the venue in succession. The hall was bustling with people, shouts and bargaining echoing back and forth. The air was a mix of the ink scent of Xuan paper, the metallic smell of bronze, and the fragrance of aged wood, creating a lively scene.
By the time Jiang Zhuo arrived, the venue was already nearly full. He searched for a long time before finding his exhibition booth tucked away in the furthest corner—right next to the fire exit, dimly lit, with several discarded cardboard boxes piled beside it. Compared to the bright and prominent booths of other owners, his spot looked like a forgotten corner.
Brother Hu’s methods were certainly malicious enough.
Jiang Zhuo didn’t mind, however. He methodically arranged the few antiques he had brought onto the display table. There was the blue-and-white lotus vine vase he had restored, a pair of small famille rose cups from the late Qing dynasty, and a Duan inkstone from the Qing dynasty. Every piece was genuine. On the restored porcelain, the gold foil patterns shimmered faintly in the dim light, possessing a unique charm.
He had just finished setting up the small wooden sign for “Xianyun Studio” when he heard a deliberately loud, mocking voice behind him.
“Well, well, isn’t this Boss Jiang? Why are you hiding here? I thought a big shot like you would occupy a prime spot.”
Jiang Zhuo turned around and saw Brother Hu standing not far away with a few subordinates, wearing an arrogant smile. Beside him was an old man in a Tang suit, his hair gray, his triangular eyes narrowed into slits—it was Old Ghost Chen.
Hearing the commotion, the surrounding people looked over, their eyes showing a hint of curiosity for the spectacle.
Jiang Zhuo ignored Brother Hu, simply lowering his head to wipe the Duan inkstone. His tone was flat: “Brother Hu seems quite leisurely. Instead of greeting guests, you have time to wander over to my small booth.”
“Aren’t I just worried about you?” Brother Hu took two steps forward, his gaze sweeping over the antiques on the table, the mockery on his lips deepening. “You have the nerve to display this junk? It looks like your Xianyun Studio truly has nothing decent left to show.”
Old Ghost Chen also shook his head, feigning regret. “Young man, the antique trade relies on genuine quality. Your items look flashy, but I fear they are merely eye candy and useless, aren’t they? Especially that blue-and-white vase—using gold foil to cover the cracks might fool amateurs, but in the eyes of an expert, it’s nothing more than a cheap stunt.”
As soon as he spoke, the surrounding crowd began to whisper.
“Isn’t that Boss Jiang from Xianyun Studio? I heard his shop was smashed up a while ago. Maybe his assets are depleted?”
“That blue-and-white vase does look a bit odd. Cracks repaired with gold foil—could it be a fake?”
“Old Ghost Chen is a specially invited guest. What he says shouldn’t be wrong.”
Brother Hu grew increasingly smug, lifting his chin higher. “Jiang Zhuo, I advise you to pack up and leave quickly, before you embarrass yourself here. If someone exposes your items as fakes later, you won’t be able to save face.”
Jiang Zhuo finally stopped wiping the inkstone. He looked up at Brother Hu and Old Ghost Chen, his eyes cold as ice.
“Brother Hu keeps claiming my items are fakes. Is this based on expertise, or mere conjecture?” He picked up the blue-and-white lotus vine vase and tilted it toward the faint light filtering in from the fire exit. “Old Ghost Chen is an appraisal expert. Why don’t you come over and take a look? Is this vase a cheap stunt, or genuine quality?”
Old Ghost Chen hadn’t expected Jiang Zhuo to challenge him directly, and his expression darkened slightly. He had intended to use Brother Hu’s momentum to casually suppress Jiang Zhuo and hadn’t looked closely at the antiques at all. But now, under the scrutiny of the crowd, if he didn’t dare step forward, wouldn’t he lose face?
“I’ll look then!” Old Ghost Chen snorted, stepping up to the display table and reaching out to grab the blue-and-white vase.
“Wait.” Jiang Zhuo shifted, avoiding his hand. “Antiques are fragile. Old Ghost Chen should be careful.”
As he spoke, he gently placed the blue-and-white vase back on the table, pointing to the patterns on the body. “This blue-and-white lotus vine vase is a genuine piece from a Kangxi period civilian kiln. Unfortunately, it was damaged years ago, suffering three impact cracks. I used Kintsugi, our nation’s traditional restoration technique, for the repair. The gold foil used is a mixture of pure gold and silver filings, which reflects a silvery sheen in the light—something modern imitations absolutely cannot replicate.”
He paused, then pointed to the mark on the bottom of the vase. “Look here. The mark of a Kangxi civilian kiln. The calligraphy is unrestrained yet retains character, and there is natural blurring between the strokes. The marks on fakes are either stiff or overly standardized, easily seen through.”
Old Ghost Chen’s face changed. He leaned in for a closer look and indeed saw the faint silvery sheen reflected by the gold foil in the dim light. The mark on the bottom also matched the characteristics of a Kangxi civilian kiln. His heart sank, but he refused to admit defeat, pointing instead to the Duan inkstone. “What about this inkstone then? I see the stone quality is ordinary. It’s probably a modern imitation.”
“This is a Qing dynasty Duan inkstone from the Mazikeng mine.” Jiang Zhuo picked up the inkstone and handed it to an elderly collector who was watching the scene. “Elder, you are an expert. Please examine it.”
The old collector took the inkstone, rubbed the texture of the stone, and then held it up to the light to examine the quality. His eyes lit up. “That’s right! This is a Duan inkstone from Mazikeng. The stone is fine and delicate, and it has natural ‘fish brain frost’ patterns. It’s genuine! Boss Jiang’s restoration skill is also exceptional!”
With this declaration, the direction of the surrounding whispers instantly changed.
“So it really is genuine! This Kintsugi repair technique on porcelain—it’s the first time I’ve seen it!”
“The quality of that Duan inkstone looks extraordinary. How could Old Ghost Chen have misjudged it?”
“I think Brother Hu deliberately came here to cause trouble, didn’t he?”
Brother Hu’s face was livid, and he shot a fierce glare at Old Ghost Chen. Old Ghost Chen also felt humiliated and stiffened his neck, arguing, “Even if they are genuine, they are just cheap civilian kiln goods, not worthy of display!”
“Antiques have no hierarchy of value, but people have varying moral standards,” Jiang Zhuo’s voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone nearby. “In my eyes, any cultural relic with a proper lineage is a treasure. Unlike some people, whose eyes are only on profit, daring to sell off items left by their ancestors.”
This was clearly a veiled insult, and Brother Hu’s face instantly turned vicious. He reached out to grab Jiang Zhuo’s collar. “You’re asking for death!”
Just then, a commotion erupted at the entrance of the hall, and someone shouted loudly, “The leaders from the Municipal Cultural Relics Bureau are here!”
Brother Hu’s movement froze abruptly.
His subordinates also panicked, retreating a couple of steps. Brother Hu gritted his teeth, glared fiercely at Jiang Zhuo, and lowered his voice. “You got lucky! We’ll see about this later!”
With that, he led Old Ghost Chen and his subordinates, slinking away and pushing through the crowd.
The surrounding people, seeing that the show was over, gradually dispersed, but many remained in front of Jiang Zhuo’s booth, pointing at the antiques with great interest.
The old collector from before even gave Jiang Zhuo a thumbs-up. “Boss Jiang, you are young, yet your eye for antiques and your craftsmanship are both excellent. I am impressed!”
Jiang Zhuo smiled faintly, politely greeting everyone.
He knew this was just the appetizer. Brother Hu and Old Ghost Chen would never give up, and the coming confrontation would only be more intense.
Jiang Zhuo’s gaze swept over the bustling crowd and landed on the entrance of the hall. A group of people in formal attire had just entered, led by the director of the Municipal Cultural Relics Bureau.
At the other end of the crowd, a young man in a white hoodie, accompanied by a white-haired elderly woman, was curiously surveying everything in the hall. His gaze happened to fall upon Jiang Zhuo’s corner booth.