On the sixth day of the first lunar month, there was a class reunion, or to be precise, a gathering of roommates. The agreed place was the "Wancheng Chain" department store in the old city. The agreed time was ten o'clock, and Zhou Yan arrived at eight o'clock.
After arriving, Zhou Yan discovered that he had miscalculated. Although the temperature in the city was a few degrees higher than in the countryside due to the so-called "heat island effect", it was still chilly.
Zhou Yanqian waited nearby for a while, called to inquire, and found that a group of animals had not set off yet, so he walked in small steps to the cultural market across the road.
The name is Cultural Market, but it is actually an antique market. Most antique markets these days are called this.
Of course, if you dare to call it an antique market, there must be a considerable number of genuine items on the market.
As for the cultural market and cultural people, can they be called fake?
That's called "insufficient time accumulation".
Dongyang City has a history of just over 20 years, with two districts and two counties, originally belonging to Xinhai and COSCO respectively.
Although there is a Yangcheng city under the rule that is said to have a history of three thousand years, the cultural relics buried underground had been dug out by the hard-working and simple people of Yangcheng in the early days of reform and opening up to improve their lives.
There are Neolithic ruins on the outskirts of Dongyang, but if you touch those stones or pottery, you will be punished.
After walking a few steps, Zhou Yan discovered that the "antiques" category in the cultural market was quite complete, ranging from rusty bronze tripods to colorful pastels, but "the time has not accumulated enough."
The purpose of Zhou Yan's visit to the cultural market is naturally not to pick up things, but to buy paper, pens and ink: the batch of paper, pens and ink purchased years ago are all for writing couplets. If he wants to complete the systematic task of being a master of traditional Chinese painting, he must
Obviously something is lacking.
Zhou Yan's requirements for paper and pen are very low, just enough is enough. As for the ink used for painting, there are even less requirements: mineral pigments for traditional Chinese painting have been used for nearly two thousand years.
After purchasing paper, pen and ink, Zhou Yan checked the time and found that it was still early, so he could only wander around in the market with his things.
Most people in the market go to the market with the intention of watching the excitement, so there are very few people who spend money; moreover, the simple people of Dongyang have relatively conservative ideas, which further increases the temptation of stall owners to slaughter fat sheep.
Difficulty.
Originally, Zhou Yan had no intention of taking action, but when he wandered around the seal stone area, he found that he still lacked a batch of seals...
As soon as the shrewd stall owner saw the tangled look on Zhou Yan's face, he immediately changed his face and looked at Zhou Yan with a smile: "Brother, take a look at the seal stone. I have Tianhuang and Chicken Blood Stone here!"
Zhou Yan glanced at the yellow "Tian Huang" on the stall, was stunned for a moment, picked up a piece, looked at it, and put it back in the distance: "Tian Huang" was returned, it was clearly Russian topaz.
As for the bloodstone, it is even more difficult to see at a glance: not even a trace of blood can be seen on the huge seal stone, and it is also tailings produced in Bahrain.
As soon as the stall owner saw Zhou Yan's writing posture, he knew that he had met an expert. He pointed at the piece of chicken blood stone that Zhou Yan was staring at with a flattering smile: "Brother, if you want it, I can give you a cheaper price!"
Zhou Yan pointed to the six-centimeter-square fake chicken blood stone and asked, "How much does this piece cost?"
The stall owner gritted his teeth: "One thousand!"
You can keep it to yourself! In a place like Dongyang, this kind of goods may not be sold after ten years of cultivation.
Zhou Yan turned around and left!
"Seven hundred!"
"five hundred!"
"Three hundred," the vendor's voice had a hint of crying, "it can't go any lower!"
Zhou Yan finally stood up and stepped back. He picked out the chicken blood stone he had just spotted, and picked out a few smaller seal stones and put them together: "How much do these add up to?"
"Six...five hundred!"
Zhou Yan took out his wallet, pointed out five old people's heads, and handed them over: "Is there anyone around here who can engrave seals?"
"Yes," the stall owner pointed to a small open-air stall at the end of the aisle, "I think they can engrave seals there, but the old man has a bad temper!"
"Thanks!"
Zhou Yan bent down and pulled off a plastic bag from the parasol pole on the side, packed the seal stone, and walked forward with it.
The seal stone stall owner pointed out to Zhou Yan an old man who was about fifty or sixty years old. He was leaning on a chair and basking in the sun leisurely. There was peace between his brows and his face was full of vicissitudes of life. He was dressed in simple but elegant clothes.
Very simple.
Of course, what attracted Zhou Yan the most was the old man's hands: the thick calluses were covered with criss-crossing scratches.
"Old sir, can you engrave seal script?"
When the other party heard Zhou Yan's words, he was a little surprised. He opened his eyes and glanced at Zhou Yan: "Engraving seal script is not cheap!"
Zhou Yan smiled and replied: "I also plan to borrow your tools to carve it myself!"
The little old man straightened up, glanced at Zhou Yan's hands, and smiled slightly: "I don't lend out anything to eat!"
"Then I can only help you!" Zhou Yan smiled and took out the seal stones from the plastic bag and placed them on the small table in front of the old man. "These all need to be engraved with seals!"
"What about the content?"
Zhou Yan stretched out his hand and picked up the yellow wax stone that has been hotly speculated over the years: "This piece is carved with Zhou Yan's seal script."
With that said, Zhou Yan picked up the pen on the table and wrote his name in seal script.
"what about others?"
Zhou Yan smiled slightly: "Let's finish carving this piece!"
The little old man smiled, sat down in front of the table, took his glasses from the side, put them on, took out a white steel seal carving knife from the drawer, pressed it with his fingers, and started carving with his bare hands without using a vise.
The hard white steel carving knife passed over the surface of the seal stone, stirring up pieces of stone chips. The white steel knife looked cold, but it could not escape the little old man's fingers and steadily followed the established route...
Two or three minutes later, the little old man stopped his work and handed the engraved seal to Zhou Yan: "Take a look!"
Zhou Yan glanced at it and handed the seal back: "There is still one knife missing!"
The little old man nodded with satisfaction: "We should really be traveling together!"
The second side is an idle seal with the inscription "Buzhou Stubborn Stone" written in Yin.
Zhou Yan didn't say what font to use, and the old man didn't ask. He picked up the seal stone and started to work on it. After carving it, he handed it to Zhou Yan with a smile: "Take a look..."
"Golden inscriptions?"
This time, Zhou Yan was really surprised and handed over the third seal stone with a smile.
"Boy, what words are engraved on this piece?"
"The clouds disperse!"
Hearing Zhou Yan's request, the old man was a little surprised: "Where is your hometown in Qingya Town?"
Zhou Yan nodded...
This time, the little old man used Wei Bei. The Wei Bei, which was already a bit elegant, added a bit of agility to the title of "Sanren".
The last one is still an idle seal, but the seal is a little longer, "Don't be afraid of the floating clouds covering your eyes, the infinite scenery is on the dangerous peaks."
When the old man saw the printed text, he was stunned for a moment. He raised his head and looked at Zhou Yan for himself...
Zhou Yan was shocked by what he saw: "Old man, is there any problem?"
"This seal is the verse that young people of your age should use!" The little old man smiled and shook his head, "Ask a question that shouldn't be asked. Carving these seals is not just for fun, right?"
"Seal for Chinese painting!"
"Oh," the little old man nodded carefully, "it's quite serious, I thought you were planning to use it to pretend to be X!"
Zhou Yan almost choked to death on his own saliva: "Mr., you are really keeping up with the times. You use fashionable terms like pretending to be sexy..."
"So-so..."
Seeing that Zhou Yan was a colleague, the little old man's sheep-killing knife was slightly loosened, and Zhou Yan received a thousand yuan for the four seals; but Zhou Yan was not polite and snatched four from the old man's stall.
Ginkgo wood box.
When Zhou Yan walked far away, the old man who was still dark-faced suddenly smiled: "Interesting..."