6: Chapter 6 One-time price of 160,000

"If you don't mind, young friend, you may call me Elder Zhou. And you are?"

"You're too kind, Elder Zhou. This humble one is Hu Tian."

Hu Tian took the teacup, holding it with both hands, feeling the warmth transmitted through the porcelain.

He spoke politely, but inwardly he was on high alert. After all, it was wise to guard against others. Although his radar indicated the other party might be an honest man, human hearts were hard to fathom, and he still needed to be cautious.

This old man looked kindly and amiable, but anyone who could run such a large shop in the chaotic Antique Street and stand firm for decades was definitely no simple character—certainly not an easy mark.

Right now, his understanding of how deep the waters ran in the antique business was still superficial; he was practically a fledgling who had just entered the field.

He couldn't afford to be swayed by a few sweet words and end up losing the golden goose he had just caught.

Hu Tian silently warned himself to stay calm, yet his face remained expressionless, maintaining that seemingly indifferent composure.

Elder Zhou Bo took a gentle sip of tea. His eyes, which appeared cloudy yet were shrewd, fixed intently on the bundle in Hu Tian's arms, betraying a hint of unconcealable desire and curiosity.

"Since you've entered my humble establishment, Young Friend Hu, why not let this old man take a look? It would also give you some peace of mind."

Hu Tian hesitated for a moment before finally nodding slowly.

He unwrapped the newspaper layer by layer, his movements as gentle as if handling a newborn baby, finally revealing the dull, grayish bronze incense burner inside.

Hu Tian took a deep breath. Holding the incense burner with both hands, he did not pass it directly to Elder Zhou. Instead, he carefully placed it on the bright yellow silk cloth spread over the center of the tea table.

He remembered seeing on a TV treasure appraisal program that when having an antique examined by someone, the rule was 'pass it over, don't hand it over directly.'

One should never pass it directly by hand; it should always be placed on a table or tray for the other party to pick up themselves.

This was both a rule of the trade and a way to avoid disputes over responsibility in case it were accidentally dropped and damaged, preserving harmony.

Seeing this, Elder Zhou gave a slight nod, a trace of imperceptible approval flashing in his eyes. "You understand the rules, young friend. A true connoisseur."

With that, Elder Zhou turned and retrieved a pair of brand-new white cotton gloves from a nearby drawer. He put them on methodically, adjusting each finger meticulously, his expression as solemn as if performing a ritual.

He extended both hands and steadily lifted the bronze censer.

First, he brought it close to his eyes, squinting to examine the inscription on the base, his nose almost touching the bronze.

Then, he turned the censer over, carefully studying the decorative patterns on its body. His fingertips, through the white gloves, gently traced the uneven patina, feeling the touch of time.

From time to time, he would bring it close to his nose and sniff, as if trying to detect any pungent chemical odor mixed within the patina.

The entire process lasted a full five minutes. Elder Zhou's expression gradually shifted from initial calmness to slight surprise, and finally to thoughtful contemplation, his brows furrowing and relaxing intermittently.

Sitting opposite, Hu Tian felt his heartbeat involuntarily quicken, his palms growing slightly damp with sweat.

He both hoped this old shopkeeper could discern the censer's true value, verifying the system's accuracy, and worried that if the other noticed something amiss, unforeseen complications might arise.

After a few more minutes, Elder Zhou slowly looked up and called softly toward the tearoom door, "Xiao Liu, bring the tools."

Soon, a young assistant pushed the door open, carrying an exquisite rosewood tray.

On the tray were neatly arranged a soft goat-hair brush, a small bottle of aged tung oil, several pieces of clean cotton cloth, and a few snow-white towels.

"Place it here."

Elder Zhou pointed to one side of the tea table, his voice gentle yet carrying an undeniable authority.

The young assistant set down the tray and silently withdrew, even closing the door behind him, leaving the space to the two men.

Elder Zhou took a goat-hair brush from the tray. First, he dipped it in a little water, shook off the excess, then began brushing the base of the bronze censer with extreme care.

Hu Tian watched, holding his breath and focusing intently. Elder Zhou's technique was supremely skilled, his control of pressure exquisitely precise.

Every stroke was just right—enough to remove surface dust and grime without harming the natural patina and patina layer formed over centuries.

The care and reverence he showed for the antique made it seem as if he were not polishing a bronze object, but a living work of art.

After brushing for a while, Elder Zhou picked up a clean piece of cotton cloth, dipped it in a little tung oil, and began slowly wiping the base of the censer.

As the tung oil seeped into the patina, the originally dull bronze color instantly became warm and lustrous.

Layer by layer, as the oxidized patina was cleaned away, the base gradually revealed clearer contours, and a palpable sense of heavy history washed over them.

Another five or six minutes passed. Elder Zhou took the final dry towel and thoroughly wiped the base clean.

When the six seal-script characters for "Made in the Guangxu Reign of the Great Qing Dynasty" appeared completely and clearly before their eyes, a faint, pleased smile finally surfaced on Elder Zhou's face—the joy of discovering a treasure.

He placed the bronze censer back upright on the yellow silk cloth, removed his white gloves, straightened his lapels, and looked up at Hu Tian, his gaze intense. "Young friend, do you know the origin of this censer?"

Hu Tian already knew the answer in his heart; the information provided by the system was a hundred times more detailed.

But on his face, he feigned hesitation, shook his head, and spoke with sincerity tinged with a hint of confusion. "I came by it unintentionally. I'm not very knowledgeable about antiques. I'd appreciate your guidance, Elder Zhou."

Elder Zhou stroked his graying beard, a flicker of appreciation in his eyes. "You are cautious, young friend. Very well, allow this old man to show off a little."

Pointing at the inscription on the base of the bronze censer, he spoke eloquently. "This inscription reads 'Made in the Guangxu Reign of the Great Qing Dynasty.' Judging by my over thirty years of experience, the bronze quality of this censer is refined, the patination has penetrated deeply, and the decorative patterns are fluid. This is the standard of official production from the Guangxu period, certainly not comparable to privately cast folk pieces."

Hu Tian pretended to listen attentively, nodding frequently, while inwardly thinking: Sure enough, this old man has real skill. His eye is sharp, even discerning the official production standard.

Elder Zhou continued, his tone growing more impassioned. "The body of this censer is fine-textured and compact. The bronze color shows a reddish hue with a golden sheen—a characteristic of refined copper, commonly called 'purple copper.' Look at this patina and surface sheen; it's warm, natural, with a restrained inner glow. Definitely not the garish, artificial shine of something artificially aged."

"Most crucial are these decorative patterns. Although they are cloud and dragon patterns, the lines are fluid, the dragon claws powerful, the dragon whiskers elegant, full of spirit and charm. These are typical features of late Qing dynasty imitations of ming dynasty xuande incense burners. They captured the essence of the xuande incense burner, yet carry the flavor of the late Qing."

He paused, his gaze burning as he looked at Hu Tian, enunciating each word clearly. "If this old man's eyes do not deceive him, this should be a late Qing Guangxu period imitation of a ming dynasty Xuande period antique bronze censer, and moreover, one from official workshops."

Elder Zhou picked up his teacup, took a slow, leisurely sip to moisten his throat, then continued. "As for its value... if it were a genuine Ming Xuande official censer, the market price would start at fifty or sixty million at the very least. That would be a rare national treasure-level item."

"But this piece is a late Qing imitation of a Ming object. After all, it's a later reproduction, lacking that imperial majesty. Plus, its condition can only be considered medium to low; there's some excessive oxidation."

"In this old man's opinion, its market value lies between one hundred fifty thousand and two hundred thousand. The specifics would depend on a buyer's preference and fate (fate/connection)."

Seeing that Elder Zhou's eye was indeed remarkable and his Valuation was quite close—even more precise than he had anticipated—Hu Tian decided to drop the pretense.

He took a sip of his tea, set the cup down, and then spoke slowly, his tone unnervingly calm. "You have a keen eye, Elder Zhou. To be frank, this bronze double-handled tripod censer is indeed from the late Qing dynasty."

"It was cast using the traditional lost-wax method. The body decoration is intertwining lotus patterns, symbolizing endless life. The base bears the six-character seal script inscription 'Made in the Guangxu Reign of the Great Qing Dynasty.' The characters are neat, the strokes fluid, and the turning points show sharp engraving work."

"The condition is indeed as you said, Elder Zhou, only medium to low. The surface is severely oxidized, forming a heavy 'black-lacquer ancient' patina. There are also minor dents locally, likely caused by accidental knocks during its earlier circulation."

Hu Tian spoke unhurriedly, describing every detail with remarkable clarity and accuracy. He used professional terms effortlessly, like an old hand who had been immersed in the antique world for years.

Elder Zhou, who had been holding his teacup, suddenly froze upon hearing Hu Tian's words, not even noticing a few drops of tea splashing out.

His eyes abruptly brightened, then filled with astonishment.

He slowly set down his teacup and re-examined the young man before him.

Just moments ago, he had thought this was a lucky greenhorn who had stumbled upon a find. Now, it seemed Young Friend Hu Tian's understanding of antiques far exceeded his expectations!

Lost-wax method, intertwining lotus patterns, inscription characteristics, 'black-lacquer ancient' patina...

These professional terms rolled off his tongue effortlessly, and his descriptions were spot-on. He even reasonably speculation the cause of the dents.

This wasn't a level of knowledge one could achieve by casually reading a few books. It required decades of foundation to speak with such authority.

The expression on Elder Zhou's face immediately became even more amiable, even carrying a trace of respect. His tone softened further. "Ah! This old man misjudged! For one so young to possess such knowledge is truly rare! Heroes indeed emerge from the young!"

He examined the bronze censer once more, then looked at Hu Tian, tentatively asking, "Might I ask where you studied, young friend? To explain the origins and details of a late Qing imitation censer so clearly, you must come from a renowned school or master, no?"

Hu Tian chuckled inwardly: All this information came from the system. What teacher or lineage?

I haven't even crossed the threshold of an antique shop before.

But his face remained impassive. He merely smiled faintly, speaking with an air of profound mystery. "I can't speak of any formal study. I just enjoy researching in my spare time, observing and learning more, doing some blind ponder (pondering/figuring out)."

Elder Zhou stroked his beard and nodded, a flicker of appreciation in his eyes. He clearly didn't fully believe this explanation but didn't press further. "Modesty is good in the young. However, in this old man's view, your discernment and knowledge, young friend, aren't something achieved through self-study alone. You must have had guidance from a master."

He paused, then shifted the conversation to the main point. "Since you understand this censer so thoroughly, young friend, I presume you intend to part with it today?"

Hu Tian's face remained as calm as water, but inwardly he was already sighing with wry smile.

Just this morning, he was still a paycheck-to-paycheck worker, his pockets nearly empty, struggling to scrape together next quarter's rent, meticulously calculating every two hundred yuan.

Now, although he had stumbled upon an antique worth over a hundred thousand, becoming a 'ten-thousand-yuan household,' without cash in hand, this treasure was just a decorations (ornament/display). It couldn't be eaten or used to pay rent.

If there was a chance to sell it, of course he wouldn't hesitate.

Money in the pocket was the hard truth.

Moreover, judging by Elder Zhou's Valuation and character, he clearly seemed like an honest man, unlike those unscrupulous antique dealers who Specializing in undercutting prices and ripping people off (specialize in lowballing and cheating people) or take advantage of others' misfortune.

Hu Tian pondered for a moment, picked up his teacup for a shallow sip, set it down, and then spoke slowly, his tone crisp and decisive. "You have keen insight, Elder Zhou. To be honest, I do intend to sell."

"You are a senior in the trade. I trust both your judgment and your character. Why don't you directly quote a price, and let's be straightforward about it. If the price is right, we can conclude the deal today."

He spoke without the slightest hesitation or any unnecessary haggling chatter, exuding a straightforward efficiency.

Hearing this, Elder Zhou was momentarily taken aback, then clapped his hands and let out a hearty laugh, his laughter robust. "Good! Direct! This old man enjoys dealing with straightforward people like you, young friend! No dawdling, no affectation!"

After laughing, Elder Zhou's expression gradually turned serious. He extended two fingers, looking firmly at Hu Tian. "Alright then. For this late Qing imitation ming dynasty xuande incense burner, this old man offers one hundred sixty thousand. A firm price!"

"Although the market price might reach two hundred thousand for a buyer who truly appreciates it, we both know that monetization (liquidating/converting to cash) isn't easy in the antique business. The time cost of holding onto it is also money."