54: Chapter 54 is just there to make up the numbers, hanging there as a decoration.

The two moved another two steps further in. There was an old wooden shelf against the wall, holding several inkstones, including Duan and she inkstones. The stone was dark in color, and some of the inkstones still bore traces of aged ink. Zhou Waner leaned in and sniffed, wrinkling her nose. She looked adorable, like a little kitten sniffing at dried fish.

"There's a smell, like over-fermented stinky tofu."

"That's the fragrance of ink. It gets like this after many years; it's the scent of a 'scholarly family.' Ordinary people don't even get the chance to smell it."

Hu Tian leaned over and picked up one of the Duan Inkstones, flipping it over to check the bottom. A faint look of interest crossed his brow, as if he had discovered a new world. "This one is actually real. It's stone from the Kengzai Rock. Look at this texture—it's delicate, and the color sinks into a deep purple. This isn't ordinary material."

Zhou Waner leaned in to look where his finger was pointing. Their heads were close together; she could even feel the warmth radiating from his cheek. Her heart skipped a beat, and her ears quietly flushed. Fortunately, the dim lighting masked it somewhat; otherwise, she would have turned into a 'red apple.'

She quickly pulled her attention back to the inkstone and asked dryly, "So, is this one valuable too?"

"Hard to say. It depends on what price the boss asks."

As soon as he finished speaking, lines of information surfaced in Hu Tian's mind like flowing water.

[Item Name: Qing Dynasty Kengzai Rock Duan Inkstone (Old inkstone with ink traces)] [Year: Mid-to-late Qianlong period of the Qing Dynasty, approximately 250 years ago. Origin: Zhaoqing, Guangdong; extracted from the Kengzai Rock old pit.]

[Provenance: Formerly an item on the desk of a literatus in Lingnan. It circulated through various hands before entering the antique markets of the Jiangsu-Zhejiang regions during the Republican era. After several changes of ownership, it finally ended up here.]

[Estimated Price: 30,000 - 60,000 Yuan]

Hu Tian glanced at the price tag; it was actually listed for 80,000 Yuan, which was clearly overpriced.

The boss seemed to be an expert who knew his stuff, recognizing that this was high-quality material. However, the price was clearly set to fleece a sucker, or perhaps he was waiting for an expert to come and haggle.

He gently placed the inkstone back in its original spot, remaining expressionless on the surface while calculating in his mind: "Eighty thousand? The boss has quite an appetite. If a real expert came to look, they'd give forty or fifty thousand at most, and even then, it would depend on the color and condition. There's enough water in this price to raise fish."

The boss behind the counter glanced sideways at the two young people. Seeing them leaning over the counter one moment and whispering together the next, a look of realization appeared in his eyes. He figured they were just young people wandering through the night market who had stopped in for fun; they didn't seem likely to buy anything. He lowered his head again, picking up a magnifying glass to examine the jade plaque in his hand with a focus as intense as if he were authenticating the Heirloom Seal of the Realm.

On the side with the calligraphy and paintings, four or five scrolls were hanging on the wall, tied with thin strings. The ink varied in depth. Zhou Waner craned her neck to look for a long time. With her background as a graduate student in the Department of Antiques, she could roughly recognize the characters, but she couldn't tell if they were authentic. She quietly tugged on Hu Tian's sleeve and asked in a low voice, "Brother Hu Tian, are these calligraphy and paintings genuine?"

Hu Tian glanced up, his voice remaining steady as if he were critiquing a roadside stall. "Ninety percent of the things hung out for show in a shop like this are commercial paintings. Authentic works wouldn't be displayed so blatantly unless the boss had water in his brain. Of course, we can't rule out the occasional 'fish that slipped through the net.' It just depends on whether one has 'fiery eyes' to spot them."

Zhou Waner nodded, then couldn't help but ask another question, her eyes filled with curiosity. "Then do you have the eye for it? Do you have 'fiery eyes'?"

Hu Tian didn't directly answer, only giving a soft "Mm." That sound was casual, as if he were answering or perhaps not really listening, as he walked at an unhurried pace toward the wall by the window.

Zhou Waner followed beside him, her gaze following his to that wall.

Five items hung on the wall.

On the far left was a rubbing. The paper was yellowed and the ink was deep. It was a rubbing of a cliff inscription from somewhere; the font was archaic and the lines were thick and vigorous. It looked quite old, as if the 'antique' itself were speaking.

Next to it hung two pieces of calligraphy. One was in running-cursive script, with continuous brushstrokes and varying ink tones. The other was in very formal regular script, each stroke precise and traditional. Zhou Waner leaned in and squinted for a long time, recognizing that the characters were from the 'Ode to the Red Cliffs,' as if someone were 'reciting a textbook passage.'

Further to the right were two landscape paintings, both tied to wall hooks with thin string. The paintings weren't large, about two feet wide. The rice paper looked aged. One depicted misty mountains and clouds with elegant brushwork, while the other used heavier ink to show a waterfall cascading between towering peaks. The technique was seasoned and the composition stable, like a 'fairyland in a painting.'

Hu Tian's gaze swept across the wall from left to right. Information surfaced in his mind point by point, more revealing than an X-ray.

The rubbing: made in the early Republican era. The original stone was destroyed. While the rubbing itself has some documentary value, there are many copies on the market, so the price is average—just a few thousand yuan. It's essentially 'common stock.'

The two calligraphy pieces: the running-cursive one is a modern imitation. The regular script one is actually by a local literatus from the Republican era. It's somewhat interesting, but the artist's fame is limited, so it's not worth much—at most, it's 'old junk.'

The two landscapes: the one on the left is a commercial painting by a contemporary artisan. No surprises there; it's basically a 'production line product.'

Hu Tian's gaze landed on the landscape painting on the right. His look was like one seeing a 'peerless beauty.'

Around the edges of that painting, a faint green halo shimmered, as if waving to him and saying, "Come here, I've been waiting for you for a long time."

His brow twitched slightly, but his expression remained calm. He quietly shifted half a step closer to the painting, his gaze locking onto it as if 'targeting prey.'

Information poured out in his mind like a stream, more detailed than an encyclopedia.

[Item Name: Late Qing Imitation Landscape Painting (Double-layered Composite Work)] [Year: Surface layer, Guangxu period of the Late Qing Dynasty, approximately 120 years ago. It imitates the style of the ming dynasty's Zhe School landscapes. The workmanship is mediocre, a common item for market circulation with limited intrinsic value. It's essentially 'selling dog meat under a sheep's head'.]

[Hidden Information: Detected an underlying painting. The lower layer dates to the mid-ming dynasty, approximately 500 years ago. Ink and color on silk. Author information: To be further analyzed. This is a miracle of a 'painting within a painting'.]

[Current Status: The underlying painting is perfectly preserved beneath the surface layer. Double-layer separation technology can restore it. Estimated integrity is approximately 92%. It is essentially 'intact'.]

[Estimated Price: Surface imitation, under 5,000 Yuan. Underlying painting (to be analyzed): Market value pending, extremely high possibility that it is 'worth a fortune'.]

Hu Tian processed this in his mind without a ripple on his face. He slowly shifted his gaze away from the painting, turning nonchalantly toward the nearby calligraphy. He remarked casually, as if critiquing a roadside stall, "These two pieces of calligraphy... the running-cursive one is a fake. This regular script one is alright, barely passable."

Zhou Waner was standing on her tiptoes trying to read the characters on the rubbing. Hearing this, she responded, "Oh, so is it valuable?"

"Not really."

He spoke carelessly, then paused as if adding an afterthought, "That landscape is an imitation from the Guangxu period. It's not worth much. The boss probably just put it there to make up the numbers as a decoration."

After saying this, he slowly backed away half a step. With his back to the painting, he strolled toward the counter, though he had already memorized the painting's location perfectly.

A five-thousand-yuan imitation with a five-hundred-year-old ming dynasty silk landscape lying underneath—this was absolutely a 'gold-inlaid jade' setup.

The owner of this shop likely never dreamed what was hidden beneath that landscape painting he had casually hung on the wall to fill space.

The counter wasn't large, just a square shape. Beneath the glass top were a few ornaments, and several thick catalogs were stacked to the side. The owner sat behind the counter; it looked like a 'miser's' den.

He was in his fifties and slightly plump. He wore a faded, dark blue cloth-buttoned top with the sleeves casually rolled up to his elbows, revealing a section of dark-toned forearm.

His hair was graying, and his sideburns were completely white. A few black hairs were scattered in the middle, combed back meticulously in an old-fashioned, fastidious style, making him look like a replica of an 'old scholar.'

The wrinkles on his face weren't deep, and his cheekbones were slightly high. A pair of thin-framed reading glasses rested on his nose. The lenses were thick, and the frames had been repaired repeatedly, with a loop of black tape wrapped around one of the temples.

He held a jade plaque in one hand and a copper-handled magnifying glass in the other. He held it so close that his entire face was almost buried in it, like a creature under a 'microscope.'

The jade plaque wasn't large, about half the size of a palm. From Hu Tian's angle, he could vaguely see the jade was a faint greenish-white. The quality of the carving was unclear, as if 'hiding its face behind a pipa.'

The boss's expression was one of such intense focus that he seemed oblivious to his surroundings. His brow was slightly furrowed, his lips pressed into a straight line, and his eyes were pinned to the jade plaque. Even his breathing seemed to have slowed, like an 'old monk in meditation.'

The magnifying glass moved slowly from one corner of the jade plaque to another. With every small movement, his head tilted slightly, as if he had spotted something minute or hadn't yet made up his mind—carefully peeling back layers like a 'detective solving a case.'

When Hu Tian and Zhou Waner walked up to the counter, he didn't even lift an eyelid, as if 'ignoring everyone.'

Zhou Waner looked at Hu Tian and whispered, "The boss is authenticating a treasure."

Zhou Waner's voice wasn't loud, yet it sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet little shop, like a 'sudden clap of thunder.'

The shop owner was finally disturbed.

He slowly shifted his gaze from the jade plaque and looked up. Through his thick lenses, he sized up the two of them. His expression slowly returned from his state of total focus, and his hands stopped moving, the magnifying glass suspended over the jade plaque without being set down.

"You're here."

His voice was somewhat deep, with the rasp of a long-time smoker. His tone was neither cold nor warm, like greeting a regular customer or just a casual acknowledgment—like 'Jiang Ziya fishing.'

When he looked at Zhou Waner, she instinctively leaned closer to Hu Tian. She gave a dry laugh and rubbed her nose unnaturally, feeling a bit 'guilty as a thief.'