Chapter 83 Zhao Mengfu's Heart Sutra?

The woman's goals were clear, and she exuded confidence.

Her colleagues were all very restrained, but when their eyes swept over Ye Anning, a hint of mockery would still appear on their lips.

You must have been watching this spectacle for days now.

Wang Qizhi was too lazy to argue with that woman anymore. He frowned and asked, "Ye Anning, where are the things?"

"I'll go get it!"

Ye Anning turned and left. A short while later, she came out carrying a long box and placed it on the coffee table.

The teacher and student exchanged a glance, and Lin Sicheng sat down and took the toolbox from Wang Qizhi's hand.

It was somewhat abrupt, leaving the onlookers completely bewildered.

Ye Anning's uncle was the one who said he wanted to solve the problem, and he was also the one who said he understood appreciation, but why was it the young man following behind who sat down?

She looked good and remained calm, not nervous at all despite being stared at by so many eyes.

But he's too young, at most around twenty.

If he were ten years older, a woman might be intimidated. But his handsome features, the slightly childlike innocence in his eyes, and this deliberately serious demeanor just felt a bit comical.

The woman raised an eyebrow, her tone slightly teasing: "Your little brother is really handsome!"

Lin Sicheng didn't say anything, but opened the bag.

The woman persisted: "Are you Assistant Ye's brother, or her boyfriend?"

Lin Sicheng remained silent, but frowned and glanced at her.

His expression was calm, and his eyes weren't sharp, but the woman felt that those two gazes were like two knives, piercing straight at her.

The woman, feeling snubbed, pouted, her eyes seeming to say: "You're not even fully grown yet, and you're already trying to look at antiques?"

In fact, it wasn't just him; most of his colleagues who were watching had similar expressions: so-called appraisal relies on experience, keen eyesight, and a wealth of knowledge. And which of these doesn't require years of accumulated experience?

Among them were seasoned professionals with over ten years of experience, such as directors and supervisors. Not to mention this young man, even people of Ye Anning's uncle's age had rarely been seen by them.

Curiosity aside, it's impossible for everyone to skip work and just stand there watching the spectacle. After dismissing the staff, only two managers and Teacher Ma remained.

Lin Sicheng took the tools one by one at a leisurely pace, and then opened the box.

But as soon as he opened the box, he was taken aback: it was strange, it was a piece of Sanskrit calligraphy, and it was even a horizontal scroll.

Unfortunately, there is only half a page; it is a fragment.

To the untrained eye, it seems incongruous and ambiguous. But those in the know understand that many famous figures in history copied Sanskrit Buddhist scriptures, and many original copies have survived.

Earlier, there was Zhang Jizhi's Sanskrit-Chinese bilingual manuscript of the Diamond Sutra, one of the "Five Masters of the Southern Song Dynasty".

Later, there is a bilingual (Sanskrit and Chinese) album of the Heart Sutra handwritten by Zhao Mengfu of the Yuan Dynasty. Both of these are in the collection of the National Palace Museum in Taipei.

Later still, there was a bilingual Sanskrit-Chinese copy of the Diamond Sutra, handwritten by Xie Jin and commissioned by Emperor Zhu Di. Still later, there were also the Ushnishavijaya Mantra, the Mahavairocana Sutra, and the Vajrasekhara Sutra, all handwritten by Emperor Qianlong.

The following paintings are all housed in the Palace Museum.

Many of these works have survived in private hands: Xianyu Shu and Deng Wenyuan from the Yuan Dynasty, Wen Zhengming and his son, Tang Yin and Shen Zhou from the Ming Dynasty, and Fu Shan, Wang Duo, Liu Yong, and so on from the Qing Dynasty.

Even more painters: Bada Shanren, Shitao, Guanxiu, Juran... Almost none of the painters who had been monks escaped this fate.

Whether it's true or false is a matter of opinion.

At first glance, this painting contains no Chinese characters, only Sanskrit, which is quite rare.

After scanning the painting roughly, Lin Sicheng picked up a magnifying glass and a flashlight: "The old rule applies: when looking at a painting, first determine its age, and to determine its age, first look at the mounting."

But at just one glance, Lin Sicheng's eyelids twitched involuntarily: "Hidden Flower World Backed by Mountain?"

This is a unique mounting style of the Yuan Dynasty: the top and bottom refer to the borders on both sides of the paper. In the Song Dynasty, the upper layer was made of brocade and the lower layer of silk, and the colors were rich and varied.

During the Yuan Dynasty, the material was changed to silk, emphasizing simplicity and elegance, and ensuring that the mounting did not detract from the painting.

Ming dynasty culture inherited from the Song dynasty but also modified it, making extensive use of brocade and silk. Occasionally, damask was used, but in richer colors and vibrant hues. It wasn't until the mid-to-late Ming dynasty, with the rise of Suzhou-style mounting, that plain-colored damask and silk were adopted, but these were mostly decorated with clear patterns, resulting in a stronger visual impact.

The same applies to the so-called "backing": during the Song and Ming dynasties, mounting emphasized thin mounting, and with proper craftsmanship, the backing was generally only mounted with two layers of paper: a base layer and a cover layer.

Only during the Yuan Dynasty, due to the influence of religious elements and the decline of papermaking and mounting techniques, the mounting was extremely thick, jokingly referred to as "backing against the mountain".

This piece, for example, is covered with four layers of paper.

Of course, whether it's "heaven and earth" or "mountain frame," it only refers to style. In modern times, people can imitate it however they want.

The problem is, the more Lin Sicheng looks at it, the more he feels that the silk and paper on it are genuine.

Upon closer inspection: the silk used is fine silk from the Jiangnan region, which is soft and long, with a fine and even texture, light and smooth feel, and is woven with double warp and double weft, resulting in high density and wear resistance.

The background pattern is the "eight-petaled lotus flower" unique to the Mongol Yuan dynasty, interspersed with scrolling grass patterns, and the layout is symmetrical and regular.

There are obvious signs of oxidation and some fading, but the silk is still supple... In other words, these few strips on the scroll are Yuan Dynasty blue silk.

But then another problem arose: the Yuan Dynasty had a strict hierarchy, and craftsmanship had declined. Most silk fabrics used by ordinary people were not dyed, and if they were, they were only dyed with common colors like red, green, and black. Only a few items used in the imperial court were dyed with this extremely expensive and complex blue pigment.

Moreover, after hundreds of years, the texture remains supple and the color of the silk is still bright, which can only mean one thing: this is tribute silk from the Yuan Dynasty.

It's not that ordinary people aren't allowed to use it, but it's ridiculously expensive, and only the powerful and wealthy can afford it.

Turn it over and look at the back: four layers of mounting, all made of mulberry paper dyed with bark of the cork tree (Phellodendron bark).

Similarly, it was unique to the Yuan Dynasty.

Then look at the last remaining axle: Ah... ivory?

Although the axle head is expensive, its decorative style is extremely simple, with only sparse beaded patterns engraved... which is quite in line with the characteristics of the Yuan Dynasty: precious materials as the core and simple and elegant patterns as the surface.

But it's not surprising, because a plain copper wooden shaft or a gilded shaft wouldn't match those three blue silk ribbons.

Finally, Lin Sicheng tasted some of the paste from the paper seams: wheat flour with alum to prevent insects, and a small amount of honey and sugar added, which not only enhanced the stickiness but also made it easier to peel off and repair the paper... This formula was only available in the Yuan Dynasty.

Therefore, whether it's the silk, the backing paper, the scroll end, the materials used for mounting, or even the mounting style, everything points to the mid-to-late Yuan Dynasty.

Furthermore, the overall style is consistent, the characteristics of the era are obvious, and there are no traces of modern imitation or forgery.

In layman's terms, it's similar in every way.

However, if this calligraphy really was created by a famous artist from the Yuan Dynasty, Bao Li would have no reason not to collect it.

So, is there something wrong with the painting of the heart?

Lin Sicheng perked up and turned on his flashlight.

The drawing paper clearly shows signs of oxidation and fading, but the original light yellow color is still visible, and it remains smooth.

When illuminated by a strong light, gold foil and faint gold-leaf dragon and cloud patterns are visible between the lines.

Mulberry bark as the base, dyed yellow as the background, cloud and dragon patterns as the motif, sprinkled with gold for added luster?

Lin Sicheng was stunned for a moment, then exclaimed, "Ha!": Mingren Hall paper?

This name only came into use during the Qianlong era, referring to the Mingren Hall in the Yuan Dynasty palace where this type of paper was first produced.

But whether they are genuine Yuan dynasty artifacts or Qing dynasty imitations, they all serve only three purposes: writing imperial edicts, providing the emperor with painting, calligraphy, and copying Buddhist scriptures, and providing the emperor with painting, calligraphy, and copying Buddhist scriptures...