Chapter 316 This game has become a school of thought
2003, April.
A nervous Chinese lady, carrying a black travel bag, hurriedly walked into New York International Airport.
"It will be a long night and many dreams, so you should take your things and leave immediately."
"Promise him not to bargain with him, and return home as soon as you get the baby..."
Just because of these few words, this lady did not dare to close her eyes for a minute on the way back.
I kept holding my travel bag tightly.
Seeing her fidgeting, the two stewardesses worriedly came over and asked her several times.
They didn't know that the reason why this lady didn't dare to close her eyes was because she was holding three volumes of "Wang Xizhi" in her arms.
She is Wang Limei, director of the State Administration of Cultural Heritage and Foreign Affairs.
And what she is holding in her arms is the "Chunhua Pavilion Notes" from the Imperial Academy of the Northern Song Dynasty that was lost overseas.
…
If you ask in China: Who is the godfather of antiques in China?
Even if a multi-party debate is launched, no outcome can be discerned.
But if you ask around in the international market, you will immediately get an answer: Ellsworth.
What's ironic is that this name sounds very Chinese, but it's not Chinese.
But he is an authentic American.
This American is also the target of Director Wang Limei's cross-border transaction.
According to Ellsworth's original words, the US$4.5 million offered for the sale of "Wang Xizhi" was entirely a friendship price to China.
Interestingly, as early as 1996, someone had suggested a similar deal for the Palace Museum.
Let the national treasure "Chunhua Pavilion Tie" return to the motherland.
But in 1996, Ellsworth said he would not accept transactions, only exchanges.
After some discussion, the two parties agreed to exchange three strings of court beads from Gubo for volumes 6, 7, and 8 of "Chunhua Pavilion Notes" written by Wang Xizhi.
But when An Siyuan arrived at Gubo with his treasure, he said he didn't notice Gubo's three strings of beads.
Then, I ordered a piece of jadeite and a piece of Ming Dynasty furniture in the museum's exhibition hall.
It's a pity that although Ellsworth is shrewd, experts with extensive knowledge are not stupid either.
After each considered the other's intentions, the deal fell through without any surprise.
…
Back in late 1979, Ellsworth, who was far away in New York, knocked on a back door.
After that, I received a notice allowing me to visit the WG Art Warehouse.
In the first month of 1980, the American "Godfather of Chinese Antiques" and "King of Ming Dynasty Furniture"... came to China!
And the old expert who will be jealous of him in the future: Comrade Qi Gong.
At this moment, I was standing in Dayabao Hutong with another ancient scholar Zhu Jiaxin.
"Yongyu, is your cousin up?"
Huang Yongyu, who was brushing his teeth, glanced outside through the window glass.
With foam in his mouth, he muttered: "How can I know if he's up or not? You have to go to his house and ask."
Without his reminder, Qi Gong and Zhu Jiazhu had already gone straight to Shen Congwen's house.
This sentence I talked to Huang Yongyu was just a casual remark made when passing by.
Seeing the smiles on their faces, Huang Yongyu pushed open the window and asked, "What good thing happened to me? I hope you two will be happy."
After saying that, he quickly went out to join in the fun.
Shen Congwen started writing.
Not only did he get up, he was also surrounded by people.
Qi Gong grabbed one of his arms: "If you think about it again, who did you mention this to yesterday?"
Zhu Jiaxin: "Don't even think about Zhou Ruchang. He was sitting in the hospital with us at that time."
Huang Yongyu still couldn't believe it: "You two are not mistaken, are you really not a single room, but a cadre ward?"
"It's written on the door," Zhu Jiazhu pointed upward, "No matter how bad we are, we still know the words."
Qi Gong, like Shen Congwen, always has a smiling face on weekdays: "Besides, the two deans of the North Hospital have already visited the ward in person, how can the treatment be any worse?"
"Good boy," Huang Yongyu shook his head with emotion: "Cousin, have you figured it out? Who did you call?"
"No," Shen Congwen still looked confused: "You guys are the only ones, could it be Shi Xiang? Maybe he also used connections after he went back last night?"
"Pull him down," Huang Yongyu waved his hand: "He is worse than you now!"
"Well," Qi Gong also agreed with this point of view: "In my opinion, the relationship between these people must be unusual. You two did not see the battle at that time."
"A crowd of people came in,"
Zhu Jiazhu, who once shared the stage with Mei Lanfang, started to act in a dramatic manner: "Everyone is wearing a white suit, and the first two are not ordinary people at first glance."
"Even if you don't look at it, you know that he is not an ordinary person," Qi Gong said: "Did you call the dean of that corridor for nothing?"
Shen Congwen stretched out his finger: "Two deans?"
"No!"
"Otherwise, why would we be in such a hurry to ask you..."
Shen Congwen and Huang Yongyu looked at each other, and they both saw ignorance in each other's eyes.
"By the way," Zhu Jiazhu then remembered to ask, "Why didn't Shixiang invite us to have dinner at his house this year?"
For Wang Shixiang, who had a career in everything and had a family, learning to be a cook was all based on the standards of an imperial chef.
So in the past, every New Year and festival, he would gather a group of people to come to his place to eat with food stamps.
At the beginning, this group of scholars loved to gather at Zhang Boju's house.
Later, because of their common hobbies, the group started again at Wang Shixiang’s home.
But their children prefer to go into Huang Yongyu's house.
Because his family had dogs, cats, monkeys, hedgehogs, turtles, magpies, parrots, sika deer...
However, this year is a special situation.
"A few days ago, he just approved the furniture and was released," Huang Yongyu, a neighbor, revealed: "He has been putting it away at home for the past two days!"
Zhu Jiaxin was moved: "The batch from the Ming Dynasty?"
Shen Congwen nodded: "He didn't have it in other dynasties either!"
"Let's go," Zhu Jiazhu stopped asking about the cadre ward: "come with me and have a look."
"Where?" Huang Yongyu had other plans: "I also want to go to the hospital to see Senior Cadre Zhang!"
"Let's go to Xiang for a visit first," Qi Gong also wanted to say, "and then we can go to the hospital together."
"Yes, let's go together when the time comes," Zhu Jiaxin said, "You haven't seen the cadre ward. It's really clean and bright."
Qi Gong deeply agreed: "There are also a pair of sofas."
…
The four old intellectuals walked out together.
When Huang Yongyu passed by his house, he didn't forget to enter and put on a hat.
Fangjiayuan Hutong, where Wang Shixiang lives, is not far from Dayabao Hutong.
The elders chatted and bickered all the way... and they arrived at their destination after a while.
Wang Shixiang, who was wearing a pair of protective sleeves, was busy placing furniture in the room.
Looking at the red sandalwood, ebony, and huanghuali scattered across the yard...
The eyes of several old comrades were too busy.
When Wang Shixiang saw his old friends, he was very happy: "You guys came just in time, hurry up and help."
"have to,"
Among these people, Huang Yongyu is young and powerful: "If I don't stay home well on the second day of the Lunar New Year, I'll come here to do something for you."
Let’s look at the others:
Qi·The ninth grandson of Yongzheng·Disciple of Qi Baishi·Gubo Commissioner·Gong,
The 25th descendant of Zhu Xi, his father and son, were both commissioners of the Forbidden City.
These two appraisal specialists usually do some repair work when they have nothing to do in the unit.
The person who brought me along would squat down and pick up a handful of weeds between the bricks.
Therefore, the commissioners, who often wear a pair of navy blue sleeves, naturally joined the ranks of the working people.
Only Shen Congwen, the eldest, calmly found a huanghuali armchair and sat down: "It's really a good thing!"
After saying that, he raised his head and looked at the elders in front of him.
Oh, except for Huang Yongyu, the other three are all people with "criminal records"!
Wang Shixiang, Zhu Jiaxin and Zhang Boju like to find some cultural relics and donate them to the country when they have nothing to do.
Although, during the period of great decline, their achievements were not appreciated: Where did their ancestors get their money?
But if you think about it carefully, why do these people who received a lot of good things before and after liberation continue to become poorer and poorer?
Which gadget in Zhang Boju's hands can be compared to the American guy An Siyuan?
The reason is not because they only donate but don’t sell. Compared with most of the dudes at the same time:
They enjoy the blessings of ancestors, donate money for the war of resistance, love the country, and suffer hardships;
But other dandies are like this: they made a lot of money during the war, they enjoyed the blessings of their ancestors, they enjoyed their blessings, they enjoyed their blessings...
So, just be like the rest of the dudes who haven’t vomited it out, and go back to your country.
This group of seniors are working together to carry furniture in Wang Shixiang's courtyard!
"Your three small bungalows can't hold so much," Huang Yongyu looked at the piles of red sandalwood and huanghuali... and couldn't help but frown.
"There is a small kitchen next to it." Shen Congwen sat far away and could see everything: "If you are not careful, your house full of goodies will be stewed with the meat."
It was okay not to mention it, but when the uncle and nephew mentioned it, Wang Shixiang became even more worried.
This courtyard house, where 10 families lived, was originally his, so it would be fine if it became a large courtyard now.
It's getting more and more complex.
Five small kitchens were built against the wall of his house. Not to mention the fumes, there was also a fire hazard.
"For this matter, I went to the Cultural Relics Administration Bureau the day before yesterday."
Wang Shixiang, who was standing on the ladder, lifted the last round stool and placed it on the top of the pile of furniture.
Then, he turned around and looked at the armchair under Shen Congwen's butt.
Qi Gong and Zhu Jiazhu, who had checked their eyes, both walked over and lifted Shen Congwen up.
Shen Congwen, who didn't care at all, asked with concern: "What do the comrades from the Cultural Relics Bureau say?"
Wang Shixiang: "They couldn't solve it. They only gave me two fire extinguishers."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, now you have something to do." Huang Yongyu knew where Wang Shixiang got these furniture, and he once rode a bicycle to accompany him through the streets.
At that time, not to mention that the common people did not know the goods, even the awakened cultural relic dealers did not have this awareness.
Speaking of Wang Shixiang, he started collecting Ming Dynasty furniture after falling in love with it at first sight at the home of a friend who had returned from China.
This play has become a school of thought.
By 1985, Wang Shixiang, who was interested in everything and had a family, successfully published an atlas about Ming Dynasty furniture, "Appreciation of Ming Dynasty Furniture".
In the 1980s, this book cost more than 100 yuan a book, and it immediately became the dream love letter of a group of enthusiasts.
When Ma Weidu accompanied Wang Shixiang to an antique village in Shanxi to collect antiques, he discovered that every household had a copy of "Appreciation of Ming Dynasty Furniture" placed on the bedside.
Buyers and sellers have all become his students, and they are all burning the midnight oil to study hard.
"When I have time, I would like to submit an application to the relevant departments," Wang Shixiang stood together with several elderly gentlemen:
"I want to donate all these furniture. As long as I can have a place to put them properly, I can sleep peacefully."
"You should give up this idea as soon as possible," Zhu Jiazhu urged: "Have you forgotten the batch of furniture I donated a few years ago?"
In 1976, I faced a cultural relic dealer who often stayed in front of my house day and night.
After discussing with his three brothers, Zhu Jiaxin donated a batch of cultural relics to the Cultural Relics Bureau.
Whether it’s calligraphy, painting, jars, etc., the Cultural Relics Bureau warmly welcomes them.
But in the face of Ming Dynasty furniture that has not yet gained momentum, the Cultural Heritage Bureau said that there is really no suitable place for display.
Even the unit warehouse said there was no room.
After repeated coordination, the Cultural Relics Bureau decided to send this batch of furniture to Chengde Summer Resort.
But while this batch of precious Ming Dynasty furniture was being transported, the truck driver actually unloaded all the furniture from the truck in order to do private work.
After leaving it in the yard of a farmhouse, I ran to haul coal several times.
Five days later, the driver came back to reload the furniture and send it to the summer resort.
Due to the brutal loading and unloading movements up and down, the furniture on the entire vehicle was worn, broken, and fell apart...
More often than not, even the corpses were gone.
For this reason, Zhu Jiaxin felt distressed.
Originally, it was feared that the cultural relics would be scattered among the people, so they were handed over to the state. Unexpectedly, they still failed to escape the fate of being scattered.
"I have also considered this issue,"
Wang Shixiang frowned: "But besides them, who can provide a decent place for these furniture?"
After saying that, he looked up at Huang Yongyu.
Huang Yongyu immediately said: "I know that your home is not as spacious as yours!"
"See you're worried about that,"
Wang Shixiang never paid his attention: "Did you mention my book to that kid from Pujiang later?"
"I forgot to clean it up," Huang Yongyu smoked his pipe: "I was just thinking about the cadre ward!"
Wang Shixiang: "What cadre ward?"
"By the way," Shen Congwen remembered: "Shixiang, did you handle brother Cong Bi's cadre ward?"
"You really praise me," Wang Shixiang smiled, but then said: "What? Brother Boju's single ward has been solved?"
Zhu Jiazhu nodded: "Not only was it solved, but it was also transferred to the cadre building."
"Is this true?" Wang Shixiang looked surprised: "No, how did you know?"
"We were present when we changed rooms last night," Qi Gong said: "The two directors of the hospital all came, and they personally examined Brother Cong Bi."
Wang Shixiang: "Oh my God, which kind of god helped me with this?"
Shen Congwen: "It's a pity that I didn't witness this scene with my own eyes."
Huang Yongyu: "Then what are we waiting for? Hurry up and meet!"
One word startled everyone in the hospital.
A group of old friends collectively headed in the direction of Peking University Hospital.
At this moment, little snowflakes were floating in the sky over Yanjing City again.
Looking at their messy appearance in the wind, they really have the courage to brave the world.
…
In the corridor of the senior cadre ward in Building 6, five old friends were walking together.
At the door of one of the wards, Zhu Jiazhu stopped: "Is this it?"
Qi Gong nodded: "Isn't this Zhang Boju's name written on it?"
Just as Zhu Jiashu was about to unscrew the door lock, a voice suddenly came from the house: "What, the dragon chair in the Hall of Supreme Harmony is fake?"
The people outside the door were startled, and then looked at Zhu Jiaxin.
I saw Zhu Jiazhu with a kind smile on his face, stretched out his hand and pushed the door open.
"Look,"
As soon as he saw the visitor, Zhang Boju, who was lying on the hospital bed, smiled even deeper: "Say Cao Cao, Cao Cao is here, the person involved is here."
Everywhere you look in the spacious, bright, clean and quiet senior cadre ward is good.
Particularly pleasing to the eye are the two deans sitting on the sofa.
"Why are you all here?" It can be heard from Zhang Boju's voice that he definitely slept well last night.
"Why don't we come while you are here?" Wang Shixiang and Huang Yongyu both stepped forward to greet him.
After some concern, I felt relieved.
Although Mr. Zhang's eyes are still cloudy and his eye sockets are still sunken, he still looks in good spirits.
Especially the voice when speaking, even though it coughs a few times from time to time, it is obviously full of energy:
"Let me introduce to you that these two are Director Hu and Director Ma of the hospital," he said, switching hands:
"They are my old friends, Shen Congwen from the Institute of History, Qi Gong from the Palace Museum, Zhu Jiaxin, Wang Shixiang, this is..."
"My surname is Huang," Huang Yongyu, who has not yet taken office as the vice chairman of the Artists Association, took the initiative to introduce himself: "No further introduction is needed."
"Xiao Huang's painting is very good," Zhang Boju said with a smile to the two deans: "He was the one who painted our country's first zodiac stamp."
After listening to his introduction, the two deans suddenly felt that the ward was filled with brightness.
They didn't know about the others, but they had heard of Shen Congwen's name.
The person who can call him a brother must not be easy.
Especially I listened to two short stories first.
"It seems,"
Dean Hu nodded to everyone: "Mr. Zhang's friends are not ordinary people either!"
Shen Congwen: "Just so so."
Zhu Jiaxin: “Very average.”
"The fake dragon chair in the Hall of Supreme Harmony that I just mentioned," Zhang Boju pointed at Zhu Jiaxin with a smile: "He discovered it."
"oh?"
The two deans looked at Zhu Jiazhu together: "How did you find out about something that no one noticed for so long?"
Nature knows how to give.
Just before they entered the house, old man Zhang Boju gave some very interesting secrets to the two deans who came to visit despite their busy schedules.
Hu Yuan and Ma Yuan, who had been working intensely for several days, had a moment of relaxation.
"It's a coincidence," Zhu Jiazhu said with a smile: "That year, several experts and I were responsible for repairing the cultural relics of the Forbidden City. Well, Comrade Qi Gong was also there at the time..."
When this matter was mentioned, Zhu Jiazhu talked a lot.
But the elders who came with him were obviously not interested in these Chen Guzi.
What they are more interested in now is the manipulator behind the ward of senior officials.
While they were silently investigating, there was a sudden knock on the door of the ward.
Then, a young comrade wearing a blue Type 74 navy uniform came in: "Report to the chief, this is the fruit sent to you, please check it."
Facing the navy soldier who suddenly stood beside the bed, Zhang Boju was so nervous that he almost sweated: "Thank you, thank you."
He really didn't dare to say a word other than "thank you".
After the little soldier walked out of the ward upright, the elders gathered around him.
Looking at the basket of fruits placed on the bedside table, Zhang Boju's wife sincerely sighed: "What beautiful fruits!"
I haven't seen her for many years.
Shen Congwen nodded: "It looks fresh."
Wang Shixiang said: "These fruits are not easy to buy nowadays."
Qi Gong's eyes were sharp: "Look, there's a letter in the fruit basket."
Zhang Boju: "Hurry and see who sent it."
Qigong quickly opened it and took a look: "I wish Mr. Zhang Boju a speedy recovery..."
Looking at the signature again, Qi Gong was stunned: "A friend of Yong Yu's uncle and nephew presented it to me?"
As soon as he finished speaking, everyone in the room looked at Huang Yongyu.
