Chapter 316: This Game Became a School of Thought

2003, April.

A nervous Chinese lady, carrying a black travel bag, hurriedly walked into New York International Airport.

"It will be a long night and many dreams, so you should take your things and leave immediately."

"Promise him not to bargain with him, and return home as soon as you get the baby..."

Just because of these few words, this lady did not dare to close her eyes for a minute on the way back.

I kept holding my travel bag tightly.

Seeing her fidgeting, the two stewardesses worriedly came over and asked her several times.

They didn't know that the reason why this lady didn't dare to close her eyes was entirely because she was holding three volumes of "Wang Xizhi" in her arms.

She is Wang Limei, director of the State Administration of Cultural Heritage and Foreign Affairs.

And what she is holding in her arms is the "Chunhua Pavilion Notes" from the Imperial Academy of the Northern Song Dynasty that was lost overseas.

…

If you ask in China: Who is the godfather of antiques in China?

Even if a multi-party debate is launched, no outcome can be discerned.

But if you ask around in the international market, you will immediately get an answer: Ellsworth.

What's ironic is that this name sounds very Chinese, but it's not Chinese.

But an authentic American guy.

This American guy is also the target of Director Wang Limei's cross-border transaction.

According to Ellsworth's original words, the US$4.5 million price quoted for selling "Wang Xizhi" was completely a friendly price to China.

Interestingly, as early as 1996, someone had suggested a similar deal for the Palace Museum.

Let the national treasure "Chunhua Pavilion Tie" return to the motherland.

But in 1996, Ellsworth said he would not accept transactions, only exchanges.

After some discussion, the two parties agreed to exchange three strings of court beads from Gubo in exchange for Volumes 6, 7, and 8 of "Wang Xizhi" in "Chunhua Pavilion Tie".

But when An Siyuan arrived at Gubo with his treasure, he said he didn't notice Gubo's three strings of beads.

Then, I ordered a piece of jadeite and a piece of Ming Dynasty furniture in the exhibition hall of Gubo.

It's a pity that although Ellsworth is shrewd, he is not a stupid expert.

After each considered the other's intentions, the deal fell through without any surprise.

…

Back in late 1979, Ellsworth, who was far away in New York, knocked on a back door.

After that, I received a notification allowing visits to the WG Art Warehouse.

In the first month of 1980, the American "Godfather of Chinese Antiques" and "King of Ming Dynasty Furniture"... came to China!

And the old expert who will be jealous of him in the future: Comrade Qi Gong.

At this moment, I was standing in Dayabao Hutong with another ancient scholar Zhu Jiaxin.

"Yongyu, is your cousin up?"

Huang Yongyu, who was brushing his teeth, glanced outside through the window glass.

With a mouthful of foam in his mouth, he mumbled, "How can I tell if he's up or not? You have to go to his house and ask."

Without his reminder, Qi Gong and Zhu Jiazhu had already gone straight to Shen Congwen's house.

This sentence I talked to Huang Yongyu was just a casual remark when passing by.

Seeing the smiles on their faces, Huang Yongyu pushed open the window and asked, "What good thing happened to me? I hope you two will be happy."

After saying that, he quickly went out to join in the fun.

Shen Congwen started writing.

Not only did he get up, he was also surrounded by people.

Qi Gong grabbed one of his arms: "If you think about it again, who did you mention this to yesterday?"

Zhu Jiaxin: "Don't even think about Zhou Ruchang. He was sitting in the hospital with us at that time."

Huang Yongyu still couldn't believe it: "You two are not mistaken, are you really not a single room, but a cadre ward?"

"It's written on the door," Zhu Jiazhu pointed upward, "No matter how bad we are, we still know the words."

Qi Gong, like Shen Congwen, always has a smiling face on weekdays: "Besides, the two deans of the North Hospital have already visited the ward in person, how can the treatment be any worse?"

"Good boy," Huang Yongyu shook his head with emotion: "Cousin, have you figured it out? Who did you call?"

"No," Shen Congwen still looked confused: "It's just you guys, could it be Shi Xiang? Maybe he also used connections after he went back last night?"

"Pull him down," Huang Yongyu waved his hand: "He is worse than you now!"

"Well," Qi Gong also agreed with this point of view: "In my opinion, the relationship between these people is definitely unusual. You two did not see the battle at that time."

"A crowd of people came in with a roar,"

Zhu Jiazhu, who once shared the stage with Mei Lanfang, started to act in a dramatic manner: "Everyone is wearing a white suit, and the first two are not ordinary people at first glance."

"Even if you don't look at it, you know he's not an ordinary person," Qi Gong said: "Did you call the dean of that corridor for nothing?"

Shen Congwen stretched out his finger: "Two deans?"

"No!"

"Otherwise, why would we be in such a hurry to ask you..."

Shen Congwen and Huang Yongyu looked at each other and saw ignorance in each other's eyes.

"By the way," Zhu Jiazhu then remembered to ask, "Why didn't Shixiang invite us to have dinner at his house this year?"

For Wang Shixiang, who could do anything and start a family, learning to be a cook was all based on the standards of an imperial chef.

So in the past, every New Year and festival, he would gather a group of people to come to his place to eat with food stamps.

At the beginning, this group of scholars loved to gather at Zhang Boju's home.

Later, because of their common hobbies, the team building was held at Wang Shixiang's home.

But their children prefer to go to Huang Yongyu's house.

Because his family had dogs, cats, monkeys, hedgehogs, turtles, magpies, parrots, sika deer...

However, this year is a special case.

"A few days ago, he was released after approving furniture," said Huang Yongyu, a neighbor. "He is putting it back together these two days!"

Zhu Jiaqi's heart moved: "The one from the Ming Dynasty?"

Shen Congwen nodded: "He doesn't have any from other dynasties!"

"Let's go, let's go," Zhu Jiaqi didn't ask about the cadre ward at this time: "Come with me to take a look."

"Where to go?" Huang Yongyu had other plans: "I also want to go to the hospital to see old cadre Zhang!"

"Let's go to Shixiang first," Qigong also wanted to go: "Then go to the hospital together."

"Yes, we'll go together then," Zhu Jiaqi said: "You haven't seen the cadre ward, it's really clean and bright."

Qigong agreed deeply: "There is also a pair of sofas."

...

The four old intellectuals walked out together.

When Huang Yongyu passed by his house, he did not forget to put on a hat when he entered the house.

Wang Shixiang's Fangjiayuan Hutong is not far from Dayabao Hutong.

The old people chatted and quarreled along the way... and soon arrived at the destination.

Wang Shixiang, wearing a pair of sleeves, was busy stacking furniture in the house.

Looking at the red sandalwood, ebony, and huanghuali scattered in the yard...

The eyes of several old comrades were too busy.

When Wang Shixiang saw his old friends, he was so happy: "You came at the right time, hurry up and help."

"Okay,"

Among these people, Huang Yongyu was the youngest and strongest: "I didn't stay at home on the second day of the New Year, so I came to help you."

Look at the others:

Qi · Yongzheng's ninth-generation grandson · Qi Baishi's disciple · Forbidden City Commissioner · Gong,

Zhu · Zhu Xi's 25th-generation grandson · Both father and son are Forbidden City Commissioners · Jiaqi,

These two appraisal commissioners usually do some repair work at work.

Some would squat down and pick up a handful of weeds between the brick cracks.

Therefore, the commissioners who often wore a pair of navy blue sleeves naturally joined the ranks of the working people.

Only Shen Congwen, the oldest, calmly found a Huanghuali armchair and sat down: "What a good thing!"

After saying that, he looked up at the old people in front of him.

Oh, except Huang Yongyu, the other three are all people with "criminal records"!

Like Wang Shixiang, Zhu Jiaqi and Zhang Boju, they like to collect some cultural relics and donate them to the country when they have nothing to do.

Although, during the period of the Great Stride, their achievements were not appreciated: where did their ancestors get the money?

But think about it carefully, these people who collected a lot of good things before and after the liberation, why did they become poorer and poorer?

What thing in Zhang Boju's hand can compare with that of the American An Siyuan?

The reason is that they only donated and did not sell. Compared with most of the playboys of the same period:

They enjoyed the blessings of their ancestors, donated a lot of money to the war of resistance, loved the country, and suffered a lot;

And other playboys: they made a lot of money during the war, enjoyed the blessings of their ancestors, enjoyed a lot of blessings, enjoyed a lot of blessings...

So, when other playboys who did not spit out money returned to the country on time.

These old guys are working together to lift furniture in Wang Shixiang's courtyard!

"Your three small bungalows can't hold so much," Huang Yongyu looked at the piles of red sandalwood and huanghuali... and couldn't help frowning.

"Next to it is someone's small kitchen," Shen Congwen sat far away and saw everything: "If you are not careful, all the good things in your house will be stewed with meat."

It would have been better if he didn't mention it. When Wang Shixiang heard the uncle and nephew mention it, he was even more worried.

This quadrangle with 10 families originally belonged to him. Now it has become a slum.

It has become more and more complicated.

Five small kitchens were built against the wall of his house. Not to mention the smoke, there is also a fire hazard.

"For this matter, I went to the Cultural Relics Administration the day before yesterday."

Standing on the ladder, Wang Shixiang lifted the last round stool and placed it on the highest point of the furniture pile.

Then, he turned his head and looked at the armchair under Shen Congwen's buttocks.

Qi Gong and Zhu Jiaqi, who confirmed the look, both walked over and lifted Shen Congwen up.

Shen Congwen, who didn't care at all, asked with concern: "What did the comrades from the Cultural Relics Administration say?"

Wang Shixiang: "They can't solve it either. They only gave me two fire extinguishers."

"Tsk tsk tsk, now you have something to do." Huang Yongyu knew where Wang Shixiang got these furniture, and once rode a bicycle to accompany him to walk around the streets.

At that time, not to mention that ordinary people didn't know the goods, even the awakened cultural relics dealers didn't have this awareness.

As for Wang Shixiang, he started collecting Ming Dynasty furniture after falling in love with a Ming Dynasty case at the home of a friend who had returned from China.

This activity became a school of thought.

In 1985, Wang Shixiang, who was good at everything, successfully published a picture album about Ming Dynasty furniture, "Appreciation of Ming Dynasty Furniture".

In the 1980s, the book, which cost more than 100 yuan per copy, immediately became a dream book for a batch of enthusiasts.

When Ma Weidu accompanied Wang Shixiang to an antique village in Shanxi to collect antiques, he found that every household had a copy of "Appreciation of Ming Dynasty Furniture" on the bedside.

Buyers and sellers all became his students, and each of them studied hard by candlelight.

"When I get some free time, I would like to submit an application to the relevant departments," Wang Shixiang stood together with several elderly gentlemen:

"I want to donate all these furniture. As long as I can have a place to put them properly, I can sleep peacefully."

"You should give up this idea as soon as possible," Zhu Jiazhu urged: "Have you forgotten the batch of furniture I donated a few years ago?"

In 1976, I faced cultural relic dealers who often stayed in front of my house day and night.

After discussing with his three brothers, Zhu Jiaxin donated a batch of cultural relics to the Cultural Relics Bureau.

Whether it’s calligraphy, painting, jars, etc., the Cultural Relics Bureau warmly welcomes them.

But in the face of Ming Dynasty furniture that has not yet gained momentum, the Cultural Heritage Bureau said that there is really no suitable place for display.

Even the unit warehouse said there was no room.

After repeated coordination, the Cultural Relics Bureau decided to send this batch of furniture to Chengde Summer Resort.

But while this batch of precious Ming Dynasty furniture was being transported, the truck driver actually unloaded all the furniture from the truck in order to do private work.

After leaving it in the yard of a farmhouse, I ran to haul coal several times.

Five days later, the driver came back to reload the furniture and send it to the summer resort.

Due to the brutal loading and unloading movements up and down, the furniture on the entire vehicle was worn, broken, and fell apart...

More often than not, not even a single corpse was gone.

For this reason, Zhu Jiazhu felt distressed.

Originally, they were handed over to the state because they were afraid that the cultural relics would be scattered among the people. Unexpectedly, they still failed to escape the fate of being scattered.

"I've thought about this too,"

Wang Shixiang frowned: "But besides them, who can provide a decent place for these furniture?"

After speaking, he looked up at Huang Yongyu.

Huang Yongyu immediately said: "I know that your home is not as spacious as yours!"

"You're worried about that,"

Wang Shixiang never paid his attention: "Did you mention my book to that kid from Pujiang later?"

"I forgot to clean it up," Huang Yongyu smoked his pipe: "I was thinking about the cadre ward!"

Wang Shixiang: "What cadre ward?"

"By the way," Shen Congwen remembered: "Shixiang, did you handle brother Cong Bi's cadre ward?"

"You really praise me," Wang Shixiang smiled, but then said: "What? Brother Boju's single ward has been solved?"

Zhu Jiazhu nodded: "Not only was it solved, but it was also transferred to the cadre building."

"Is this true?" Wang Shixiang looked surprised: "No, how did you know?"

"We were present when we changed rooms last night," Qi Gong said: "Both the two directors of the hospital came and they personally examined Brother Cong Bi."

Wang Shixiang: "Oh my god, which kind of god helped me with this?"

Shen Congwen: "It's a pity that I didn't witness this scene with my own eyes."

Huang Yongyu: "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go and meet him quickly!"

One word woke up everyone in the hospital.

A group of old friends collectively headed in the direction of Peking University Hospital.

At this moment, little snowflakes were floating in the sky of Yanjing City again.

Looking at their messy appearance in the wind, they really have the courage to brave the world.

…

Five old friends were walking together in the corridor of the senior cadre ward in Building 6.

At the door of one of the wards, Zhu Jiazhu stopped: "Is this it?"

Qi Gong nodded: "Isn't Zhang Boju's name written on it?"

Just as Zhu Jiashu was about to unscrew the door lock, a voice suddenly came from the house: "What, the dragon chair in the Hall of Supreme Harmony is fake?"

The people outside the door were startled, and then looked at Zhu Jiaxin.

I saw Zhu Jiazhu with a kind smile on his face, stretched out his hand and pushed the door open.

"Look,"

As soon as he saw the visitor, Zhang Boju, who was lying on the hospital bed, smiled even deeper: "Say Cao Cao, Cao Cao is here, the person involved is here."

Everywhere you look in the spacious, bright, clean and quiet senior cadre ward is good.

Particularly pleasing to the eye are the two deans sitting on the sofa.

"Why are you all here?" It can be heard from Zhang Boju's voice that he definitely slept well last night.

"Why don't we come while you are here!" Wang Shixiang and Huang Yongyu both stepped forward to greet him.

After some concern, I felt relieved.

Although Mr. Zhang's eyes are still cloudy and his eye sockets are still sunken, he still looks in good spirits.

Especially the voice of the speaker, although he still coughs a few times from time to time, he is obviously full of energy:

"Let me introduce to you that these two are Director Hu and Director Ma of the hospital," he said, switching hands:

"They are my old friends, Shen Congwen from the Institute of History, Qi Gong, Zhu Jiaxin, and Wang Shixiang from the Palace Museum. This is..."

"My surname is Huang," Huang Yongyu, who has not yet taken office as the vice chairman of the Artists Association, took the initiative to introduce himself: "No further introduction is needed."

"Xiao Huang's painting is very good," Zhang Boju said with a smile to the two deans: "He was the one who painted our country's first zodiac stamp."

After listening to his introduction, the two deans suddenly felt that the ward was filled with brightness.

They didn't know about the others, but they had heard of Shen Congwen's name.

The person who can call him a brother must not be easy.

Especially since I listened to two short stories first.

"It seems,"

Dean Hu nodded to everyone: "Mr. Zhang's friends are not ordinary people either!"

Shen Congwen: "Just so so."

Zhu Jiazhu: "Very average."

"The fake dragon throne in the Hall of Supreme Harmony that I just mentioned," Zhang Boju smiled and pointed at Zhu Jiaqi: "He was the one who discovered it."

"Oh?"

The two deans looked at Zhu Jiaqi together: "How did you figure it out when no one had discovered it for so long?"

Nature knows how to give gifts.

Just before they entered the room, old man Zhang Boju offered some very interesting secrets to the two deans who came to visit him in their busy schedule.

This gave Dean Hu and Dean Ma, who had been working hard for several days, a moment of relaxation.

"Speaking of this matter, it's a coincidence," Zhu Jiaqi smiled and said: "That year, I and several experts were jointly responsible for repairing the cultural relics of the Forbidden City. Oh, Comrade Qi Gong was also there at that time..."

When this matter was mentioned, Zhu Jiaqi had more to say.

But the old people who came with him were obviously not interested in these old things.

What they were more interested in at this time was the manipulator behind the high-ranking cadres' ward.

Just as they were quietly checking, the door of the ward was suddenly knocked.

Then, a young comrade in a blue 74-style navy uniform came in: "Report to the commander, this is the fruit sent to you, please check it."

Faced with the navy soldier who suddenly stood by the bed, Zhang Boju was so nervous that he almost sweated: "Thank you, thank you."

Except for "thank you", he really didn't dare to say a word.

After the young soldier walked out of the ward straight, the old people gathered around him.

Looking at the basket of fruits on the bedside table, Zhang Boju's wife sighed sincerely: "What beautiful fruits!"

She hasn't seen it for many years.

Shen Congwen nodded: "It looks fresh."

Wang Shixiang said: "These fruits are not easy to buy now."

Qigong's eyes were sharp: "Look, there is a letter in the fruit basket."

Zhang Boju: "Hurry up and see who sent it."

Qigong quickly opened it and saw: "I wish Mr. Zhang Boju a speedy recovery..."

Looking at the signature again, Qigong was stunned: "Presented by a friend of Yongyu's uncle and nephew?"

As soon as the voice fell, everyone in the room looked at Huang Yongyu.

"Yongyu..."