625: Chapter 62 What Confidence!

At first, no one believed it.

Everyone's initial reaction was: it must be a publicity stunt, absolutely a publicity stunt!

What is a chai kiln?

That's something legendary! 'A shard of chai is worth a thousand pieces of gold.' The complete surviving pieces can be counted on one hand, and every single one is controversial.

Now you tell me someone fired over a dozen pieces?

Do you think they are common cabbage from the field?

Countless experts and scholars publicly expressed doubt on social media, using fierce language, believing this was blasphemy against history, a clumsy scam.

However, when the official account of the National Museum published a photo of Director Wang leading a team of experts to C City via a special flight overnight, all the voices of doubt quieted down.

The tide was beginning to turn.

Could it be true?

Three days later.

The main hall of the C City International Convention and Exhibition Center.

It had been arranged as an elegant Chinese exhibition hall. On the display stands made of Huanghuali wood, those dozen or so celadon porcelain pieces were quietly displayed.

A one-meter safety line was drawn around each piece, and several armed security personnel stood expressionlessly around them.

The hall was crowded, yet eerily quiet.

Everyone held their breath, greedily gazing at the 'sky' on the display stands.

Only the truly important figures had come.

The top ten private collectors in the country were all present.

Expert teams from the Forbidden City, the National Museum, and the Shanghai Museum were all in attendance.

There were even a few foreigners with blonde hair and blue eyes, followed by professional translators and consultant teams, clearly representatives from top auction houses like Sotheby's and Christie's.

In the crowd, an old man wearing a cross-collar Tang suit and fiddling with a string of agarwood prayer beads was particularly noticeable.

His name was Ma Weiting, the recognized 'Eye of the Master' in the domestic collecting circle. His discernment was extremely sharp; not a single treasure that passed through his hands was fake.

He was surrounded by a group of people as he slowly walked up to the display stand, squinting at the items across the safety line for a while.

'Old Ma, what do you think of these things?' a wealthy businessman next to him asked cautiously.

Ma Weiting pursed his lips, a trace of disdain appearing on his face.

'The glaze color floats on the surface, the firing heat hasn't dissipated, and the craftsmanship is too heavy.'

He shook his head. His voice wasn't loud, but it clearly carried throughout the entire hall.

'The shapes are imitated quite well, but alas, they are ultimately modern crafts; they lack the ancient charm.'

'Fake at a glance.'

As soon as these three words were uttered, the entire venue erupted in an uproar!

Who was Ma Weiting? If he said it was fake, then this thing was almost certainly fake!

Many collectors who had been extremely excited showed looks of disappointment and anger.

After all that, it turned out to be a scam!

Just then, a calm voice sounded from the back of the crowd.

'Oh?'

'Could Old Ma elaborate a bit more?'

Everyone turned back to see Shen Yan, dressed in casual attire, slowly walking over, surrounded by a group of people.

Gao Shou Zheng, Li Yuan Chao, and others followed behind him.

Ma Weiting frowned when he saw Shen Yan.

Too young.

What he disliked most were these young people who relied on capital to stir up trouble in the field of traditional culture.

'Elaborate?' Ma Weiting sneered, 'This is a feeling, an intuition cultivated from decades immersed in antiques. You're just a young punk; even if I told you, you wouldn't understand.'

'I truly don't understand,' Shen Yan nodded, saying very seriously.

The look of contempt on Ma Weiting's face deepened.

'However,' Shen Yan changed his tone, 'my instruments do understand.'

He clapped his hands.

Two staff members carried a precise instrument onto the stage; the instrument was connected to a huge display screen.

'This is Tianjin University's latest portable thermoluminescence dating detector,' Shen Yan pointed to the instrument, as if introducing a newly released mobile phone, 'The error can be controlled within five percent.'

'It's specifically used to detect the final firing year of ceramics.'

Ma Weiting's expression changed slightly.

He dealt in visual appraisal and experience; what he hated most were people who brought up scientific instruments to make a point.

'Putting on a show!'

Shen Yan ignored him and signaled the staff.

The staff carefully took the celadon bowl from the display stand and placed it into the testing instrument.

Everyone's gaze focused on the huge display screen.

The red progress bar slowly began to read.

The entire hall was silent enough to hear a pin drop.

One minute later.

A soft 'ding' sounded.

On the screen, a line of clear data popped up.

['Test Sample: Ceramic Bowl']

['Final Firing Time: 887 Years Ago (± 25 Years)']

['Conclusion: Consistent with the characteristics of late Northern Song Dynasty (1125 AD) artifacts']

Dead silence.

The air was utterly still.

887 years!

Late Northern Song Dynasty!

The instrument's result was like a loud slap, fiercely striking Ma Weiting's face.

His face instantly turned from red to green, and from green to white.

'No! This is impossible!' he cried out, 'The instrument is wrong! You cheated!'

'Cheated?' Shen Yan smiled, 'Director Wang, Consultant Li, the expert team from the National Museum are also here. Perhaps, would you honor us by re-verifying it?'

The white-haired Director Wang pushed up his glasses and walked up with his team.

They did not use Shen Yan's instrument but took out another, even more precise set of equipment they had brought.

Another long round of testing followed.

More than ten minutes later, Director Wang walked to the microphone, cleared his throat, his voice trembling slightly with excitement.

'I announce in the name of the National Museum.'

'After our repeated testing and comparison, this batch of celadon porcelain pieces—whether in terms of clay body, glaze composition, or firing technique—perfectly matches the characteristics of the Northern Song chai kiln recorded in historical documents.'

He looked at the bowl, his eyes filled with endless fascination.

'In fact, their level of craftsmanship even surpasses any extant piece we currently know of.'

'They are national treasures!'

'Boom!'

The crowd completely erupted!

National treasures!

National treasures personally certified by the Director of the National Museum!

Ma Weiting's legs went weak, and he almost collapsed to the ground. He was hastily supported to the side, never to show his face again.

The eyes of all the collectors turned red. They looked at the porcelain on the display stands with the gaze of hungry wolves spotting lambs.

Shen Yan walked onto the auction stage and picked up the gavel.

He did not invite an auctioneer.

He intended to preside over this history-making auction himself.

'Everyone.'

'I won't say too many superfluous words.'

'The first lot: Northern Song chai kiln Celadon Flared-Rim Bowl.'

'Starting bid: one yuan.'

The entire audience went crazy!

Starting bid at one yuan?

What confidence was this!

'Ten million!' A local tycoon immediately raised his paddle.

'Thirty million!' A collecting master from the capital showed no weakness.

'Fifty million!'

'Eighty million!'

The price soared upward like a rocket, climbing madly.