Chapter 55 The Mystery of Life
After Mingyuan left, Qin Tian sat on a bench in the hospital, watching the people coming and going. A nurse came over and asked if she would stay with him tonight. She asked, "Is Dad awake yet?" The nurse said that even with the new medicine, it wouldn't work that quickly.
She opened the door and sat in the chair beside the bed. He had just woken from his nap and opened his eyes to look at her. She could now somewhat distinguish him. Unlike her imagination, he seemed even sicker when his eyes were clear. It seemed that for him, Alzheimer's disease had simply stripped away the memories that had left him confused and exhausted.
"What are you looking for?" she asked, looking into his clear eyes.
He looked at her silently. She knew there was no answer to this question. Now wasn't the right time, there had never been a right time. For 20 years, he hadn't said a word. In his heart, he intended to take his search to his grave. This was his promise to Han Wenying, a bond that belonged only to them two, not to her.
"A large gilded copper plate from the Western Han Dynasty." He said slowly.
Time stood still, dust and plankton frozen in the sunlight streaming into the room. She looked at her father, and a gentle smile slowly blossomed on his lips as his gaze fell on her face.
"I've been looking for it. For a long time."
It was already eight o'clock in the evening when Qin Tian returned to the city. After a moment's hesitation, she went to Qin Yunjie's house. The house had been rented out last month to two girls. She knocked on the door, and the girls asked cautiously who it was. When she said it was the landlord, they opened the door.
"Sorry to come so late, I want to find something, is that okay?"
The two girls looked at each other and said reluctantly, "How long will it take? Can't we find it tomorrow?"
"The rent will be reduced by 500 this month."
One girl brought her a pair of slippers, and another poured her a glass of water.
"Sister, take your time to look for it."
After Qin Yunjie went to the nursing home, she spent two days sorting through her belongings, packing them into boxes and stacking them in a corner of the living room. The girl asked her to move the boxes, but her house was too small to accommodate them. To store the items, she reduced her monthly rent by 300 yuan.
She pulled out a box labeled with photo albums and sat on the floor, flipping through the pages one by one. Young and middle-aged Qin Yunjie and Han Wenying appeared alternately, and he flipped through the photos of the artifacts he had found one by one, but there was no photo of the large gilded bronze plate from the Western Han Dynasty, not a single one.
Undeterred, she reread the pages, even digging through the interlayers in two photos to see if she'd missed anything, but still nothing. Frustrated, she untied her hair, tangled it up, and tied it back up again. With all her might, she lifted another box of books, opened it, and lifted the books by their spines, flipping through them one by one. A few scraps of written paper floated out, even an old ten-yuan note. But no photos.
The little girl was getting a little impatient, and someone came up to her and asked her how much longer she would have to search. She looked and saw that it was almost 11 o'clock. The boxes were piled up all over the floor.
She said sorry, roughly gathered the scattered books, picked up the box of photo albums and went out. She couldn't take the books with her for the time being, so she would have to come back another day.
When she got home, she threw the box of photo albums onto the floor. She couldn't take another step. She lay on the sofa for half an hour before she forced herself to get up and take a shower.
The warm water continued to flow. She didn't like washing her hair because it was too thick and it took her forever to blow dry it. But this time, she stayed under the running water for a long time.
Her maternal grandfather, Han Yehua, had passed away before she was born. For as long as she could remember, her mother had paid respects to him at home every winter solstice, but she had never visited his grave. When she was older and learned about tomb sweeping, she asked her mother why she didn't visit the cemetery to pay respect to her grandfather. Didn't he have a grave?
The mother looked a little sad. She said there was a place, but it was too far away. Yiyi was too young to go there.
This was probably all she remembered of Han Yehua. Her mother had never mentioned anything about her grandfather. She had only met her grandmother once, her mother being her youngest daughter. She hadn't given birth to her mother until she was in her 40s and had lived with her eldest son in Henan. She had no memory of what her grandmother looked like; she was still a child then, and she didn't even remember that meeting.
Since she was born, there has been no grandparents in her family, but she has never found it strange or been curious about them.
Ming Yuanxing explains that before liberation, the Han family was a renowned antique dealer, renowned for their discerning eye and abundant supply. They initially headed the antique trade in Henan, later expanding to Beijing. Her maternal grandfather, Han Yehua, shot to fame at the age of 17 when he decisively acquired a large, gilded bronze plate from the Han Dynasty, said to have once belonged to the imperial court and possessed inestimable value. His once-glorious career fell after liberation. He surrendered over 3,000 artifacts, but the gilded plate was the only missing item, and no amount of persuasion could stop him. He left Henan for Shanghai, where he opened a small antique shop to make a living. While his first wife went to Taiwan, he and his second wife gave birth to Han Wenying in Shanghai. Qin Yunjie, a neighbor of his Shanghai shop, was considered exceptionally gifted, so Han Yehua took him in as his last disciple. Those who fell from grace initially believed that as long as they could be flexible, they could live a simple life. However, he did not expect that the debts he owed in his early years would eventually have to be repaid. He was sentenced to serve his sentence in Qinghai for smuggling cultural relics and never returned.
The Shanghai Museum was in need of talent, and the then-director, having learned of Han Yehua's legendary career, sought out Qin Yunjie, hoping to recruit him. Qin Yunjie was very young, and after his master's departure, he felt unable to care for his wife and daughter. He responded to the situation, closed his shop, and joined the Shanghai Museum. His background inherently tinged him with gloom, and he worked diligently with a sense of atonement, traveling extensively across China and making significant contributions to the Shanghai Museum's collections. However, this status denied him the opportunity for promotion, and he remained a low-level employee, doing practical work. Later, Ming Yuanxing, much younger than him, arrived at the Shanghai Museum and within a few years became his direct supervisor. Ming Yuanxing was driven by ambition and a willingness to learn. Despite his higher rank than Qin Yunjie, he often sought advice, and Qin Yunjie generously shared his knowledge with Ming Yuanxing. The two became both mentor and friend, cherishing each other's deep appreciation.
Before leaving the Shanghai Museum, Qin Yunjie remarked that while he had found so many national treasures for the museum, there was one truly priceless treasure he had yet to find. It was the heirloom Han Wenying had always coveted. It was a heirloom not only of the nation but also of his master, Han Yehua: a large gilded bronze plate from the Western Han Dynasty. He feared he would never see it again in his lifetime.
She often thought that her father had never understood her. She had always borne too much for the mistakes he made. It was not until today that she realized that he had also borne the burden of his entire life for his master, his identity as an antique dealer, the lives of his wife and daughter, and the unfair treatment and discrimination of the times.
For 20 years, she'd asked herself, "Why, why, why?" Now she knew why. More than his own mistake, their family's origins were the beginning of their connection to the Shanghai Museum, a sin he could never fully undo. He'd rather let her bear the shame of his expulsion from the museum than inherit the identity of a descendant of a convicted antiquities smuggler who died in exile.
What era is this? There are still people who care about hereditary status. He is really old. Her smile under the shower was uglier than crying.
By the time she dried her hair, it was already early morning. She lay in bed, tossing and turning, her mind racing like a revolving lantern, recent events playing out frame by frame like a silent film. The bronze coin also flipped into her mind, then gradually faded away. Just as it was about to disappear, she suddenly opened her eyes and pulled it back.
Qin Yunjie said that this was a coin Han Wenying had kept when she was a child. She had never understood why her mother, who never dealt with cultural relics, had a coin with no known provenance. Now, everything made sense.
She rolled out of bed, pulled out the bronze coin, turned on the work light, and took out a magnifying glass to examine it once more. Due to its age, nearly half of the coin was covered in patina. She searched close to the patina, fearing she'd missed something. Right below the center, she spotted a tiny bump; the rest of the coin was completely covered in patina. She opened a microscope and examined the bump. It didn't look like an artifact, but rather an inscription from the time of its casting.
Qin Tian had barely slept all night, arriving at the museum at 7:30. She could remove the rust herself, but with her skills, she wasn't sure it would remove the coin's traces along with the rust. It would be best to leave this to the restoration department... They should be able to remove the rust while preserving the coin's integrity, right?
No one in the repair department was working at this time. It would take at least nine o'clock. The first person to arrive would be Tong Zhongyuan. No matter what, she had to be patient and not rush. There was only a little over an hour left.
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