C16 Tang Bohu's Authentic Work(2)

"Impossible!" The man in the mask immediately dismissed Su Hao's assertion.

"Even if the surface of a painting is coated with a special substance, the shrinkage glaze remains unchanged. A genuine piece will always have shrinkage at the outer edges, while a counterfeit's shrinkage will adhere closely to the axis."

"Some forgeries may closely mimic the original, but upon close inspection of the glaze's subtle details, the flaws become apparent. The shrinkage glaze on your painting is clearly new; no special gauze covering the surface could conceal that."

The crowd was taken aback; the man behind the mask was evidently a seasoned connoisseur, whose incisive critique hit the nail on the head.

Yet, Su Hao simply smiled and countered, "In fact, the shrinkage glaze on this painting has also been covered with a special material!"

"Such a thing is utterly impossible. I, Hsu Hongfei, have been selling paintings for over a decade. How could I lack such discernment?" With that, the man removed his mask to reveal a mature visage.

At this revelation, the crowd erupted in astonishment.

"Holy cow, isn't that Hsu Hongfei, the chairman of Picturesque Company?"

"Picturesque Company is the largest purveyor of fine art in Quanzhou's East City Region, housing many authentic pieces, including Qi Baishi's 'Ink Shrimp' and Xu Beihong's 'Wounded Lion.' Hsu Hongfei is even more remarkable, having shown a prodigious talent for art from a young age and creating many masterpieces himself. Many of the wealthy elite seek his brushwork."

"It's quite unexpected to see Hsu Hongfei browsing the Antique Market. Truly a rare sight."

"If Hsu Hongfei himself has spoken, and that young man still claims it's authentic, he must be out of his mind."

...

As the murmurs and discussions about Hsu Hongfei's appearance reached Zeng Ziyuv's ears, he couldn't help but shake his head repeatedly.

He was well aware of Hsu Hongfei's reputation—a man of unique prowess in the world of painting and calligraphy, who approached his craft with utmost seriousness.

His Picturesque Company was known for dealing almost exclusively in authentic works. Even the reproductions it sold were from the hands of esteemed artists, and Hsu Hongfei was known to hold forgeries in nothing but contempt.

With Hsu Hongfei's keen eye, discerning the authenticity of a painting was as simple as flipping his hand. His pronouncements carried the weight of an expert's authority. At this point, any attempt by Su Hao to further argue was futile.

Left with no choice, it was clear that Su Hao's pride was his downfall. Desperate to save face, he insisted that the forgery was authentic. Now, faced with a true connoisseur, his embarrassment only deepened.

Hsu Hongfei's arrival caught Su Hao off guard, but he managed to keep his composure. He turned to the shop owner and inquired, "Boss, is there any profit to be made here?"

"What do you need that for?" the boss asked, clearly baffled.

Su Hao replied directly, "The Autumn Wind Silk Fan Picture needs an oil treatment to remove the special gauze overlay and reveal the painting beneath."

The boss couldn't help but chuckle at the suggestion.

Using oil to authenticate a painting? The man was a true original!

The boss didn't call out Su Hao's nonsensical claim. Instead, he actually brought over a bowl of oil.

Truth be told, he was quite curious to see what this foolhardy fellow would come up with.

Hsu Hongfei watched with a furrowed brow. He was familiar with many appraisal techniques, but using oil was a new one to him.

"Hold on," he said, pausing as a thought struck him. "In times of war and turmoil, it's said that painters would conceal their most cherished works with a 'disguising cloth' to prevent theft or unauthorized sale. Could it be..." His stance stiffened, his expression shifted, and he turned sharply to look at Su Hao.

Under the crowd's mocking eyes, Su Hao had already laid the Autumn Wind Silk Fan Picture on the ground, fully spread out.

He scooped up a spoonful of oil and methodically poured it over the painting's surface and glazed areas, working his way from left to right, top to bottom.

The onlookers could barely contain their laughter, and the boss was practically gasping for air, as if he'd witnessed the punchline of a great joke.

Could it really be that just a spoonful of oil would upend Hsu Hongfei's verdict?

Zeng Ziyuv, standing nearby, was initially skeptical. He opened his mouth to speak, but the unfolding scene struck him like a bolt of lightning, leaving him utterly transfixed.

As Su Hao diligently applied oil, a layer of special, gossamer-thin material began to emerge on the "Autumn Wind Silk Fan Picture." This filmy substance was so delicate it might as well have been invisible. Yet once saturated with oil, it became unmistakably clear.

The mocking laughter of the onlookers ceased abruptly, disbelief flickering in the boss's eyes, while Zeng Ziyuv's face registered sheer astonishment.

Without delay, Su Hao took up a pair of tweezers and carefully lifted away the gauze. Where it clung more stubbornly, a small knife was used to gently scrape it off.

As the gauze fell away, the true "Autumn Wind Silk Fan Picture" was revealed, its ancient charm intact. The painting's lines were crisp and lively, embodying both strength and softness, with strokes that were bold yet delicate. The ink lines danced with color, their intensity and subtlety perfectly balanced to create a texture and depth that were nothing short of exquisite.

Within the vigorous brushwork, one could sense the refined elegance of Tang Bohu, and the meticulous style of a courtyard painting betrayed the relaxed cultivation of a scholar.

The brush moved freely, strokes seemingly scattered yet connected, creating a pattern that was both sparse and dense. The painting did not lose the delicate grace of a well-tended bamboo garden, yet it captured the wild vigor of bamboo by a cliffside stream.

The painting's background was stark in its simplicity, featuring just a corner of a rocky slope and a few slender bamboo stalks. The expansive blank space evoked a sense of vast emptiness and poignant solitude, accentuating the theme of abandonment by the autumn wind.

The noblewoman in the painting, her hair coiled high, exuded beauty and grace as she gazed into the distance. Her rounded cheeks bore a hint of wistful sorrow, her expression one of helplessness and resignation. The silk fan in her hand seemed to remind her of the fleeting nature of youth and the daunting realities of life.

The icy purity of the lady's visage against the rugged, beast-like stones created a stark contrast, masterfully juxtaposing the world's harshness with the tragic plight of the beauty, offering a deeply reflective experience.

Hsu Hongfei's eyes bulged, his breaths coming in rapid gasps. He surged forward, snatching the magnifying glass from within his coat and peered intently at the painting.

The longer he gazed, the more violently he shook.

Finally, with a resounding boom inside his head, he stood petrified, as though lightning had struck him.

Could it be... this painting was actually an authentic Tang Bohu?