Chapter 20 Filling the Gaps

It was a close call, nothing serious.

At least that's what the doctors think: not much toxic gas was inhaled through the respiratory tract, and no "internal irradiation" phenomenon has been found so far.

Because of timely washing, no contaminants penetrated through the pores, and the superficial burns on the skin were very mild.

But Lin Sicheng didn't think so: It's inexplicable. How could I have gotten cancer in my past life?

"Don't rush to be discharged. After all, the hospital has equipment that can monitor you at any time."

"It won't take too long. Stay for half a month first, and then have another systematic check-up."

"Also, you should quit smoking as soon as possible!"

Lin Sicheng's tone was solemn, and there was a certain unquestionable certainty in it.

Lin Changqing and Lin Mingzhi exchanged a glance, feeling a sense of surprise and delight, as if their child, still clinging to a pacifier, had suddenly become the master of the house.

Thinking the old man didn't want to quit, Lin Sicheng frowned: "I won't let you quit for nothing: as long as you quit, I'll go wherever you want me to after graduation."

Huh, is there such a good thing?

Lin Changqing's eyes lit up, "Really!"

"I'm your grandson, would I lie to you?"

The old man immediately threw the cigarette pack and lighter hidden under his pillow into the trash can: "Okay, I'll quit!"

Lin Sicheng pressed on while the iron was hot: "It's best not to set up stalls anymore, and those consultants from those organizations, resign if you can!"

The old man wanted to shake his head, but his head was hunched over, and he hesitated for a moment.

For him, Xiaodongmen was like a fishpond; unless there were no fish coming in, as long as they did, very few could escape his ears and eyes.

With just a little more effort, he could have earned half a lifetime's worth of wealth. Wouldn't that have made Lin Sicheng's fortune even more substantial?

Secondly, his abilities are undeniable. No matter which organization he works for as a consultant, even the highest-ranking leader would have to give him some respect. Once Lin Sicheng graduates, whichever company he joins, wouldn't they be able to provide him with support and protection for several more years?

So resigning is not an option, at least not for the next few years. But Lin Sicheng hates this the most; he used to get angry whenever it was mentioned.

He pretended to hesitate and said, "I've already signed a contract, I can't just quit like that. Let's talk about it after I'm discharged from the hospital!"

Lin Sicheng sighed: So you're going to use a roundabout tactic with me?

"If it's not working, just push it onto me. It's just a matter of taking care of someone. If I can't take care of it well, I can certainly make things worse."

The old man chuckled: "Alright, take care of this afternoon's visit first!"

"Not just this time, but in the future too. Just keep postponing it as much as you can."

"And you promised to quit smoking, my dad is my witness!"

Lin Changqing nodded and smiled.

After giving a long, rambling explanation, Lin Sicheng stood up and looked at Lin Mingzhi again.

Forget it, Dad is really unreliable. If you expect him to keep an eye on Grandpa, he'll be turned against him in no time.

Let's leave it at that for now.

He shook his head and left the ward.

Lin Mingzhi looked completely bewildered: "No... Dad, what does it mean when he shakes his head?"

What does it mean to have a father but be unable to rely on him?

Lin Changqing didn't speak, but the bond between father and son was strong enough to be broken with just a glance.

"Hey, what a bastard?"

He cursed, then asked with some concern, "Can Chengwa help you get it tested? Is he capable?"

Why not?

If he wasn't sure before, after a week in the hospital, meeting Liu Meili and Shang Yan, and hearing the rumors from fellow collectors about what happened at Xiaodongmen last weekend, the old man had no more doubts.

He's been a regular at the ghost market in Xiaodongmen since the 1980s, and most of his collection came from there.

After retiring, he became a regular at the market, so he knew almost everything about what good products were coming in and what each stall had.

But he didn't notice that chicken feather dagger and that Tibetan Vajravarahi jar that had been sitting there for so long.

Especially the latter, Phagspa script, which has been lost for seven or eight hundred years, he didn't even recognize it, so how could Lin Sicheng know it?

Think back to what happened at the cultural relics company a couple of days ago: uranium yellow accelerates the decay of carbon atoms, fooling carbon-14. Depleted uranium replaces the glaze crystals to release energy, fooling thermoluminescence... This is not knowledge from books at all.

Even he had only heard a little about it; where did Lin Sicheng learn it from?

Based on these two instances alone, Lin Changqing was basically certain that, putting aside experience and knowledge reserves, Lin Sicheng was probably no less perceptive than him.

So what's there to worry about?

Then think about what Shang Yan said: "Professor Lin, I suspect that Lin Sicheng is deliberately slacking off. In fact, he knows more than anyone else and learns faster than anyone else."

Looking back now, isn't it true that he was better than anyone else?

I just don't quite understand: if someone is so rebellious, how can they possibly become successful through their rebellion?

But then think about Lin Mingzhi: he was incredibly obedient, doing whatever his father told him to do. The result? He was lazy, irresponsible, and didn't take anything seriously.

There are so many reasons: My dad has already arranged everything for me, why should I worry about anything?

He sighed and tapped the headboard: "Taking taxis all the time isn't convenient. Fix up your car and let Chengwa drive it."

"Then what should I drive?"

"You drive a Santana."

No... Chengwa is your eldest grandson, that's true, but I'm still your son. Why are you being so biased?

Lin Mingzhi lowered his eyes and muttered to himself, but dared not utter a sound.

Fine, Santana it is.

If you dare to be stubborn again, you won't even be able to drive a Santana...

...

Taxis are indeed hard to find; not only are they scarce, but they also won't take you if the distance is short.

After waiting for almost twenty minutes and being refused service by three different taxis, Lin Sicheng finally hailed an unlicensed taxi. It took another ten minutes or so to reach the Municipal Cultural Relics Exchange Center.

It is also a subordinate unit of the Municipal Bureau of Cultural Relics, with similar responsibilities to the cultural relics company, but it has its own folk museum, so its level is half a level higher and its scope is also broader: it integrates the collection, trading, exhibition and promotion of cultural relics.

With five minutes to go before the appointed time, Lin Sicheng hurriedly went upstairs.

Pushing open the door, I found a large number of people sitting in the conference room, filling most of it.

On the stage were leaders, and behind them, an electronic screen displayed a banner that read: "National Day · Xijing Folk Museum 'Sanqin Elegance' Exhibition Preparation Seminar".

Lin Sicheng glanced at it and quietly sat down at the very back.

But just as I sat down, a young man who looked like a secretary came over and asked, "Hello, which organization are you from?"

Lin Sicheng smiled and said, "I don't have a work unit. My grandfather is Lin Changqing, and he can't come because he's in the hospital!"

"Oh, is Professor Dai Lin here to attend the conference?" The secretary handed him a guest pass without a name on it. "Please wear this first."

"good!"

Then, the secretary went up to the stage and whispered a few words in the ear of a female leader in the center. The female leader looked up and glanced back.

A nameplate was placed in front of her: Lan Ling.

The secretary's voice must have been quite loud, because the people in the first two rows all turned around.

Lin Sicheng was surprised to see a familiar face: Hao Jun from Rongbaozhai.

Then he remembered that this person was the secretary-general of the provincial folk art association. For preparatory meetings for exhibitions at folk museums like today, he really had to invite him.

Lin Sicheng smiled, and Hao Jun nodded slightly.