Chapter 127 Both True and False (Bonus Chapter for Monthly Tickets 11/11)
Is it really a case of the eye being blind to one's own eyes?
I was so focused on the title and my mind was full of "Seventeen Branches" that I didn't really notice it.
Upon closer inspection: the newspaper had yellowed and had a strong sense of age, but the area below the headline was smooth, just like anywhere else.
At least it can be confirmed that this is not something that has been formed later in life, but rather something that is naturally occurring.
Thinking of this, Lin Sicheng slowly exhaled.
A misprinted daily newspaper, or even the People's Daily... These are even rarer than misprinted banknotes.
However, given the ideology of the 1960s and the rigorous work style of a certain General Office, Lin Sicheng always felt that this should not be a misprint.
It's at least not the misprint that ordinary people think it is.
Lin Sicheng tried hard to recall: He knew from the newspaper articles that the atomic bomb explosion occurred at 4:15 PM. According to later declassified information, the test unit repeatedly verified the data, and the results were urgently telegraphed to Beijing, by which time it was already night.
Xinhua News Agency reported that it was already past midnight, and the People's Daily had already published its urgent first-issue report late into the night. Sample copies were delivered to the General Office and then to the leaders on the morning of the 17th. After deliberation by the leadership, it was decided that the date would still be published as "the 16th telegram."
Simultaneously, the newspaper was urgently printed and delivered to various central and provincial government agencies, and distributed free of charge to Beijing residents.
Lin Sicheng's thoughts wandered further: Could this be the sample copy that was submitted to the General Office for the leaders to see?
Looking at the postmark: October 17, 1964... the date matches up.
But why send it to Shaanxi?
Lin Sicheng didn't know the reason yet, but he knew at least that the recipient's rank was definitely not low.
Turning the newspaper over, eight characters were written in pen at the top of the back: "Unwavering determination, human will can conquer nature..."
The classic imitation of Shu style calligraphy is well-structured and spirited.
Suddenly, Lin Sicheng's lips curled into a smile.
Ye Anning was already curious, and seeing Lin Sicheng like this made her even more curious.
Even so, she still refrained from asking, her big eyes sparkling.
Lin Sicheng smiled and said, "Sister Anning, let me verify this first!"
He then took out his phone and dialed Wang Qizhi's number.
The phone rang several times before it finally connected, and it was Shan Wangshu's voice that came through: "Sicheng, wait a moment... Qi Zhi, Wang Qi Zhi?"
He made two soft, whimpering sounds, as if he wasn't fully awake yet. Wang Qizhi, still half-asleep, asked, "Sicheng?"
It was obvious from the sound that the teacher had drunk too much again last night.
But you've already broken through the defenses?
Lin Sicheng organized his words: "Teacher, Anning, Youjian, and I went for a walk around Dongyue Temple and found an envelope and a newspaper... The envelope was stamped with Black Seventeen."
"Oh, seventeen branches... um, wait, what branches?"
"BJ Seventeen Branches, and after the branch comes the character 'Jia'!"
Wang Qizhi took a while to process this, then exclaimed, "Wait a minute, the Seventeenth Branch, they stopped using it in the 1970s?"
Lin Sicheng explained: "Yes, teacher, it was stamped on October 17, 1964, and it was a special edition of the People's Daily with the headline: 'Atomic Bomb Explosion'..."
He paused briefly: "But the newspaper has no date!"
With a creak, Wang Qizhi seemed to sit up: "Are you sure there's no date?"
"Yes, original paper, it's certain, it was originally blank!"
"Is there a recipient's name?"
"It used to be there, but now only one ear is left. Before and after it are 'Please turn around' and 'Comrade'... It's in Mao's style, very strong!"
Comrade... in the style of Mao Zedong!
Wang Qizhi sobered up considerably: "Is there any other information, like other handwriting or something?"
"have!"
Lin Sicheng flipped through the newspaper and looked at the eight characters: "Unwavering determination, human will can conquer nature... It is in the style of Shu, with a neat structure, but the brushstrokes are extremely heavy, and the last stroke of the character 'sky' is slightly longer... He must have been very excited and in high spirits at the time..."
Wang Qizhi was stunned, unsure of what to say.
Lin Sicheng only spent a short time shopping?
Wang Qizhi pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "Do you know who these two are?"
"Know!"
"You think that's all?" Wang Qizhi chuckled. "Look closely, isn't there a '1' under the date on the postmark?"
Lin Sicheng paused for a moment, then narrowed his eyes: Isn't there a (1) under the date on the postmark?
How come I didn't notice this before?
No, he did notice it, but he never had time to think about it.
But now, thinking about it again: "支" represents an organization, and "甲" represents a unit, so this (1) can be regarded as a specific office number.
Even down to the individual level.
Although it's just a postmark, just a code, and its meaning is merely symbolic, it symbolizes a great person.
Adding to that the handwritten notes from the two people mentioned earlier... Lin Sicheng's heart skipped a beat.
There are many things that cannot be thought about deeply, much less discussed, as if there is an invisible force at play...
It is not an antique, but its value and significance far exceed that of antiques.
"Sicheng, keep your things safe... We're not short of money anyway. If you really need money, just tell your teacher!"
"Teacher, I know!"
"Okay, we'll go back tomorrow, we'll talk then!"
After exchanging a few words, Wang Qizhi hung up the phone.
The three of them huddled together, and the phone was being rang loudly enough for everyone to hear clearly.
Wang Youjian is still young and of course doesn't understand, but Ye Anning shouldn't understand too much.
He not only understood the value of this set of items, but also grasped the fact that Lin Sicheng had acquired them in less than five minutes, from sitting down to standing up.
This is not a cultural relic, not an antique, but a newspaper from the new China, printed on an industrially printed envelope.
New or old, era, paper—none of it matters.
It can only be judged by handwriting, only by postmarks… especially that postmark, which I've seen and used for so many years, yet I have absolutely no recollection of it. How much knowledge would Lin Sicheng need to possess to recognize it at a glance?
Ye Anning suddenly understood what her aunt often said: Even though she had long been numb to Lin Sicheng's presence, every time there was a new one, she was still stunned and felt ashamed of herself.
Thinking back to how Lin Sicheng had accompanied them on all those shopping and fun activities, it felt like Lin Sicheng had lost a fortune...
She bit her lip: "Youjian, are you hungry?"
How could I be hungry?
After wandering around for half a day, Ye Anning sampled so much that he couldn't finish it all, and the bad food ended up in his stomach...
The chubby boy shook his head.
"That's good!" Pinching the chubby boy's cheek, Ye Anning looked at Lin Sicheng and said, "Let's take another look!"
The two were of one mind; they could tell what Ye Anning was thinking just by looking into his eyes. Lin Sicheng glanced at his watch: "It's past four o'clock!"
"I usually don't get off work until six!" Ye Anning urged him, "Let's see, just in case."
That's true.
Luck is something that can be quite unpredictable sometimes.
Lin Sicheng nodded and put the envelope and newspaper into the inner pocket.
There were many more people, but most of them were there to set up stalls, and nine times out of ten, they had just come from the central hall after their appraisals.
There were many, and they were still holding the newly issued certificates of authenticity.
After walking a few steps, Lin Sicheng heard cursing behind him and instinctively turned around.
An elderly man, with slightly graying temples, appeared to be around sixty years old. He carried two long boxes under his arms, which looked like calligraphy and paintings.
A young man followed behind, carrying two of those poles used to support calligraphy and paintings.
The two walked and cursed: "What kind of bullshit expert is he? My paintings from the Southern Song Dynasty are considered modern imitations by him?"
"He'll grow up, he'll kill his mother..."
"I refuse to believe it! I refuse to believe that no one knows its value..."
The noise was quite loud. The two found an empty stall, propped up a pole, and took out two more paintings to hang up.
It has been carefully framed and has a transparent protective film on the outside, making it very glossy and shiny.
Lin Sicheng glanced at them subconsciously: both were ink wash landscape paintings, one depicting hills and water towns, and the other a boat on the water.
The scene is shrouded in mist and rain, creating a serene and tranquil atmosphere. The brushwork is delicate, and the ink tones are distinct.
At first glance, it's actually quite well drawn.
But upon closer inspection, the silk itself is bright white, and it shines as if it were new.
The ink was very deep, even the blank areas were still bright red.
Lin Sicheng moved a little closer and looked at the largest seal: "Yu Chi Sheng"!
There's another one: "The Ma Family Collection"!
Huh, Ma Lin from the Southern Song Dynasty?
Son of Ma Yuan, one of the Four Masters of the Southern Song Dynasty, he was also a court painter and was known as the "Fifth Master of the Southern Song Dynasty".
But that's not the point. What's strange is that when Lin Sicheng looked at these two paintings, he felt that they were both "real and fake".
In layman's terms: Judging from the brushstrokes, the artistic conception, the color scheme, and the overall mood, it seems authentic.
But looking at the ink color, the printing color, and the silk, it looks fake no matter how you look at it.
That's strange.
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