Chapter 91 My name will be recorded in history
Tong Zhongyuan stood at the door of Qin Tian's office. He knew that Qin Tian had been called away by Wang Qiqing early in the morning. He wanted to know the result immediately. Yuan Junruo had fallen asleep on the table. Even a young man like him was too exhausted to hold on. He wondered what would happen to Qin Tian.
He waited for over half an hour, but Qin Tian still hadn't returned. Yang Yuxin couldn't stand it any longer, so he brought him a glass of water and asked him to sit down. He had originally thought Qin Tian's plan was fine and could get by for now, but now, he had a bad feeling that the discussion had taken too long.
Finally, her figure was reflected on the glass at the end of the corridor. He stood up and walked towards her. She walked forward with her head down, and she didn't notice him until he was in front of her, almost bumping into him again. Seeing her expression, he supported her and asked in a deep voice, "Is it not going well?"
She looked up and saw that it was him, like a drowning person finding driftwood. She had just gone to the restoration department but couldn't find him, so luckily he was here.
"Wang Qiqing got away with it here. But Director Ming just called me and said he's going to Hong Kong to buy some Western Zhou chime bells."
In her office, she told him everything that had happened without reservation.
Ming Yuanxing's longtime friend, Hong Kong University Professor Chen Weiming, asked him to appraise a set of bronze chime bells from the Western Zhou Dynasty. The set consists of fourteen pieces, and their level of completeness is virtually unprecedented. The Japanese Museum and the Taipei Museum had already received information and sent top appraisers to inspect the pieces, but neither made a move. The seller decided to sell the bells at auction, with the sale taking place tomorrow. After seeing the photos, Ming Yuanxing decided to fly to Hong Kong immediately. If he couldn't agree on a price before the auction, he would attend the sale tomorrow.
"Why didn't the Taipei and Japanese museums take action?" Tong Zhongyuan asked.
She stared at him, and that was the first thing she asked. She took out her phone and flipped to the photo to show him.
"Do you think it's true or false?"
He read them one by one without saying a word. The Western Zhou dynasty was too old to be suitable for the fine-grained measurement required by thermoluminescence, so judgment could only be made by the human eye and experience.
"You think it's fake, right?" Qin Tian asked him.
"Yes. Each of these chime bells is engraved with an inscription. The Western Zhou Dynasty lacked iron tools, and there was no tool harder than bronze to engrave words on."
"That's right, that's why neither the Taipei nor the Japanese museums took action."
"But Director Ming thinks it's true?"
She shook her head: "Not only Director Ming, I also think it is true."
There was no doubt in his eyes as he looked at her seriously and listened to her reasons.
She continued, "Inscriptions are very valuable, each word worth a thousand gold. That's why counterfeiters like to engrave inscriptions on bronzes. Every one of the 12 bronzes in the Nanjing Museum is engraved with an inscription. But chime bells are different. They have a tune, which is adjusted when they are fired. Engraving would disrupt the pitch. Moreover, the Western Zhou chime bells are extremely precious and already priceless. They don't need inscriptions to increase their value. Engraving inscriptions would only reduce their value. So there is only one possibility: the inscriptions on the chime bells were there from the beginning. This set of chime bells is authentic."
Her face was tired, her hair a bit greasy. She discussed the two missing chimes, the influence of inscriptions on musicality, the rubbings and characteristics of inscriptions, and the Western Zhou dynasty, three thousand years ago. Their civilization, their lives. She was opening her world to him, revealing the vibrant colors of dreams. In the small office, everything around her dimmed. It was she who was shining, the only source of light. Her reflection in his eyes, dazzling, unique.
"Now, Director Ming is waiting for me, waiting for me to give him an answer." She covered her face.
"What should I do? I believe it's authentic, but the Taipei Museum doesn't, the Japanese Museum doesn't, and no one in the world believes it. For thousands of years, everyone has known that the Western Zhou Dynasty didn't have iron tools. I can't overturn existing history and knowledge with a set of bronze chimes. If the Shanghai Museum buys it, it will just be a joke. It doesn't matter if people don't believe me, but what will everyone think of Director Ming?"
Tong Zhongyuan couldn't help but laugh. He couldn't help but touch her head. He was used to her not being able to distinguish between work and ideals. To her, the two were one and the same.
"Is this what's bothering you? Director Ming is only asking for your professional opinion. It's his choice whether to buy the chimes. If you say they're fake, he won't buy them? If you say they're real, he'll buy them?"
"I know." She knew the unspoken subtext. "I don't think I'm that important. But if he buys the Western Zhou chime bells, he'll inevitably face controversy, not honor. He's already successful and famous, there's no need for him to take risks. I don't want to see him face such pressure."
"Then tell him you think it's fake. The Shanghai Museum doesn't need any artifacts anyway, so less trouble is better."
She was speechless and looked at him helplessly. There was a faint smile in his eyes. He took her hand and placed the phone on the table into her palm.
"Go tell him your answer. You have no choice. You won't lie about the artifacts, and you certainly won't lie to Director Ming. So, why should you worry? Worrying comes from having choices."
She lowered her eyes and looked at her phone: "If it were you, what would you do?"
He was silent for a moment, lowered his head, thought about it seriously, and then smiled.
"I'll buy it. Because I haven't achieved anything yet. I'm willing to be involved in controversy. One day I'll prove that the Western Zhou Dynasty already had iron tools."
Her eyes met his, his thick eyebrows, warm deep eyes, and the voice that plucked her heartstrings.
"Tong Zhongyuan, if you hadn't become a restoration expert, you would have definitely become a speaker."
She stood up, picked up the phone and dialed.
At 11:05 PM, the flight from New York to Shanghai arrived at the airport. The plane, which was supposed to dock with the jet bridge, slowly landed on the tarmac.
The on-board broadcast repeatedly asked everyone to fasten their seat belts and continue waiting.
The young female passenger asked her husband: "There's no air bridge at this late hour? Should we take the shuttle bus?"
The husband looked outside the cabin and said in surprise, "That's not right, look!"
The female passenger looked in the direction of his finger. Dozens of black commercial vehicles were parked on the parking lot, and two rows of armed police stood on both sides of the boarding stairs.
The cabin door opened, and two people descended the jetway. They had no carry-on luggage, except for the woman, who carried a suitcase. As they descended the stairs, armed police surrounded them and led them toward the commercial vehicle. The police, with practiced skill, escorted the two to the vehicle, and they each climbed into it. The convoy, following the lead vehicle, quietly and swiftly departed the tarmac.
Under cover of darkness, the motorcade sped all the way from the airport to the Shanghai Museum. The area at the museum entrance had been cleared, and once the business car had stopped, armed police officers filed out to guard the entrance. After ensuring everything was normal, they opened the car doors. Wang Qiqing, along with the entire calligraphy and painting team, had been waiting for a long time and finally came forward to greet them.
Tang Zhixu was the first to get out of the car and waited for Director Wang at the door. Director Wang handed him the briefcase and slowly got out. Wang Qiqing led the way and the group entered the Shanghai Museum.
The lights in the collection room came on, and a sleepless night had just begun.
Late at night, Tong Zhongyuan sat at his computer, reviewing his English paper for the fifth time. He had translated Qin Tian's paper, "On the Influence of Thermoluminescence Radiation Dosage on the Dating of Bronze Artifacts," published in the Shanghai Museum Journal, into English. He had spent the past few days correcting the wording and sentence structure. This time, it should be flawless.
He sent the English paper to Eithans, and half an hour later, he called him via video. He didn't want to see his face, so he just pressed the voice button to answer the call.
"WHY? Are you in a shameful place?" he asked dissatisfiedly.
"I'm at the hotel."
"So there's a woman in your room?"
"I have to go to bed in half an hour and don't want to have a nightmare."
"Does your new girlfriend know you're so mean?"
"She also knows that you were chased by a dog and jumped into the river two years ago."
After being rebuked several times, he finally got to the point: "Who wrote this paper?"
"My new girlfriend."
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