C7 The Price Was a Bit Low

Upon laying eyes on the stamp, Professor Wu Wanli's expression turned gravely serious. The directors from both the Palace Museum and the Postal Museum exchanged a knowing glance and subtly nodded to each other, seemingly arriving at an initial assessment.

Despite their seasoned backgrounds, their expertise had its limits. For a definitive confirmation, they needed Wu Wanli's input.

Director Zhao Changjiang of the Palace Museum, upon hearing the news, had resolved to secure the stamp at any cost. It was a national embarrassment for such a leading institution to lack even a single red revenue stamp in its collection.

However, stamp appraisal was a specialized field, necessitating the involvement of their counterparts at the Postal Museum. Reluctantly, they called upon Shen Zhaoqiang from the Postal Museum.

Wu Wanli, the appraisal expert, was specifically requested by Shen Zhaoqiang for his expertise.

An expert indeed, Professor Wu Wanli, a luminary in the philatelic community, had been toting a case all along. Now, he opened it to reveal an array of tools: a high-powered magnifying glass, a professional UV light, a perforation gauge, and various tweezers and clamps.

Wu Wanli's professional demeanor alone was enough to make Chu Yunhe's palms sweat as he meticulously examined the stamp.

A crowd huddled around the coffee table, with Chu Yunhe, the stamp's rightful owner, standing on the periphery. In front of him were the experts: Wu Wanli, Zhao Changjiang, Shen Zhaoqiang, Lee Ming from the Provincial Museum Management Office, and Zhang Tingtao from the City Museum.

Chu Yunhe glanced at his son, Chu Jun, the one who had ultimately discovered the stamp. Chu Jun's brow was furrowed as he cast wary glances at the two police officers.

Chu Jun's behavior was peculiar today. Although he excelled academically, he had never shown interest in current events. Yet today, he had spoken of the Asian financial crisis and procured a stamp of immense value.

Now, his gaze towards the police was filled with caution, an expression uncharacteristic for someone his age. Had he anticipated their intentions?

This realization sent a chill through Chu Yunhe, as he recalled the careful look in his son's eyes when he found him on the rooftop, as if he knew exactly what his father was about to do.

His eyes seemed to pierce right through to one's soul.

"Alright, I can now confirm with certainty that this Double Helix is the real deal!" Wu Wanli, who had been deeply engrossed in examining the stamp, finally stood up, muttering to himself as if lost in thought.

As he spoke, Wu Wanli removed his gloves, "Considering the edition, paper, ink color, stamp size, perforations, and gum on the back, from these six aspects, I can affirm that this is indeed an authentic Double Helix red stamp!"

Despite Wu Wanli's efforts to contain his excitement, his voice quivered slightly.

"Mr. Chu, congratulations!" The first to respond was Zhao Changjiang from the National Museum of China, a man in his sixties, lean and not very tall, bearing a resemblance to the literary figure Lu Xun as depicted in textbooks. His eyes sparkled with anticipation, perhaps having eagerly awaited this moment. He stepped forward and warmly grasped Chu Yunhe's hand.

Zhao Changjiang's reaction sent a jolt through Chu Yunhe, signaling that the climax was approaching. True to form, Zhao Changjiang's next words marked a shift in the conversation: "This horizontal Double Helix stamp is exceedingly rare. Frankly, aside from the two 'Red Inseaming' stamps—one old, one new—that Old Shen possesses, our museum doesn't have a single one!"

"Currently, the only known stamp of this kind is a small square one; a horizontal Double Helix like this has never been seen before. Its historical significance is immense. Mr. Chu, on behalf of the National Museum of China, I earnestly hope you will consider transferring this unique stamp to our collection."

Hearing Zhao Changjiang speak of 'transferring', Chu Yunhe felt somewhat reassured, but he knew this was no time for complacency. He paused thoughtfully, deliberately avoiding the topic, and his gaze drifted to the two police officers standing nearby.

With the wisdom of his years and experience, Zhao Changjiang quickly grasped the situation from Chu Yunhe's reaction. "Mr. Chu, I'm sure you understand the purpose of our visit. The police are here to assist in safely transporting the stamp back to Beijing, provided, of course, that you are willing to transfer it to us."

As Chu Yunhe gave a slight nod, Zhao Changjiang went on, "In fact, Director Shen and I discussed the stamp's valuation on our way here. Although our museum's financial management is quite stringent, I am authorized to negotiate for such a significant piece as this Double Helix."

Records show that at the 1996 Yanjing Philatelic Auction, a red revenue stamp with a small character denomination of one yuan sold for 1.8 million yuan. Naturally, the price has seen a significant increase since then. A small round stamp like that should now fetch around 2.2 million yuan at auction," Zhao Changjiang spoke deliberately slowly, giving Chu Yunhe time to absorb the information.

It appeared that Shen Zhaoqiang from the Stampart Museum had ceased his bidding war with Zhao Changjiang over the Double Cross. They might have even struck a private deal. Picking up where Zhao left off, Shen continued, "Given the Double Cross's scarcity, this unique piece could command a price of about eight million yuan!"

"Eight million?" Chu Jun, who had been silent at the back, felt compelled to speak up. The figure was even lower than Curator Zhang's estimate.

Moreover, Chu Jun was aware that if he didn't act on acquiring the Double Cross, it would be snapped up by someone else the following year, eventually ending up with a collector in the Philippines. And in 2001, at an auction in New York, USA, that very stamp would hammer for 5.5 million US dollars, equivalent to over 45 million yuan.

The gap between eight million and over 45 million yuan was staggering, not a mere trifle.

Chu Jun's interjection had turned the mood tense. In truth, every museum staff member understood that eight million yuan was a modest sum for such a rare stamp—a piece beyond price, unattainable regardless of the cash one might wave.

Chu Yunhe, noting the discomfort on their faces, sought to ease the tension. They were, after all, guests from the capital, and under the watchful eyes of two police officers. Despite being a prominent businessman in Tianhai City, he knew his place before the government—he was just an ordinary citizen.

"Haha, let's have some tea first. You know, it was my son who discovered this stamp. He cherishes it like a treasure. He even boasted that it must be worth at least 20 million yuan!" Chu Yunhe chuckled, subtly hinting at his own valuation without making it too obvious.

"Twenty million?" Zhao Changjiang of the National Palace Museum stiffened, his expression turning awkward. "Mr. Chu, you may not be fully aware of the reality here. Our offer might seem modest, but even at auction, I'm afraid it wouldn't fetch the figure you have in mind."