One divination a day, a trainee celestial master

The warm yellow light from the table lamp shone on the scroll, casting varying shades of ink.

Jiang Shou practically lay on the table, pressing his face close to the drawing paper, examining it from left to right, from top to bottom, even scrutinizing the gaps at the scroll ends, for a full ten minutes.

"Where exactly is it hidden?" Jiang Shou scratched his head, somewhat puzzled.

The surface of this painting is perfectly smooth, with absolutely no mechanical mechanisms. Could it have been painted with some kind of special invisible ink, requiring heating or soaking in water to become visible?

This isn't a martial arts drama about finding the Yue Fei Manual; it doesn't need to be made so mysterious.

He closed his eyes, his mind replaying the eight words given by the Cold Season Decree: "True beauty lies hidden in paintings, pearls and jade are covered in dust."

"The painting... conceals the truth." Jiang Shou opened his eyes and stared at the painting.

He stretched out his thumb and forefinger, pinched the edge of the scroll, and gently rubbed it along the texture of the paper.

Something's not right!

Jiang Shou's fingers paused. The lower edge of the painting in his hand felt slightly thicker than the upper edge.

This difference in thickness might only be a few millimeters, something Jiang Shou in the past would never have been able to detect. But after undergoing the True Essence Cleansing and Marrow Strengthening, and having his five senses far surpassing those of ordinary people, this raw, heavy feeling became impossible to hide.

He carefully ran his hand along the edge of the scroll again. The thickness of the other parts was very uniform, except for the area near the bottom of the scroll, where one area felt noticeably thicker.

Mezzanine!

A flash of inspiration struck Jiang Shou, and he instantly understood.

He finally understood why those two seasoned experts at Guyazhai couldn't see through the deception.

When authenticating calligraphy and paintings, experts examine the brushstrokes, ink color, artistic conception, and ink paste. Those two old men, holding magnifying glasses, immediately recognized the work as a Republic-era forgery because the brushwork lacked the masterful spirit of Shi Tao.

For a "fake" that has been sentenced to death, which expert would be so bored as to meticulously examine the thickness of the paper? Moreover, the painting itself is an old object that has been around for many years. The paper has aged and hardened over time, perfectly concealing the slight abnormality in thickness at the bottom.

When Jiang Shou used to deliver food, he enjoyed listening to storytelling about unofficial history. He vaguely remembered that in ancient times, wealthy families often used a hidden technique called "mounting" to avoid war or theft.

This involves sealing the genuine heirloom between two layers of Xuan paper with paste, and then painting an inconspicuous fake on the surface to deceive people.

Having found the way, Jiang Shou immediately took action.

He didn't understand the professional "remounting" techniques of those calligraphy and painting restoration experts, but he understood basic physics. Ancient mounting used a paste made from boiled flour. While this old paste hardened over time, it had a fatal weakness—it was susceptible to heat and steam!

Jiang Shou ran quickly into the kitchen, grabbed an electric kettle, filled it halfway with well water, and boiled it.

After the water boiled, he pressed the keep-warm button, opened the lid, and let the scalding steam "whoosh" out.

Back in the room, he carefully picked up a corner of the painting and held it about ten centimeters above the spout of the kettle, allowing the steam to evenly fumigate the thicker part of the paper's edge.

After being steamed for a full five or six minutes, the edges of the originally dry and brittle drawing paper gradually became moist and soft as the water vapor continued to penetrate.

Jiang Shou put down the kettle, held his breath, and didn't dare to even breathe loudly.

He found a fruit knife in the kitchen, held the handle very steadily, and gently used the tip of the knife to pry open the tiny crack at the edge of the drawing paper.

"Just a little bit more... pick it open a little more..."

The old paste, softened by the steam, gradually loosened. With Jiang Shou's extraordinary focus and arm control, the fruit knife remained as steady as a rock, without the slightest tremor.

"Sizzle—"

A soft sound of paper separating echoed in the quiet room.

Jiang Shou successfully pried open a small gap in the surface of the painting!

Looking down through this opening, beneath the surface of the paper, another layer of slightly yellowed, warm-looking ancient Xuan paper is revealed!

"There really is something here!" Jiang Shou's heart skipped a beat.

He dared not be careless and followed the same method, continuing to boil water, steam, and fill the gaps.

This process was extremely tedious and tested one's patience. It took a full two hours, and Jiang Shou's forehead was covered in sweat, and even the back of his clothes was soaked.

As the last inch of the glued edge softened, Jiang Shou held his last breath, pinched the two corners of the imitation painting on the surface with both hands, and slowly and evenly applied upward force.

"Sizzle..."

As the last bit of paste fell off, the "Ink Splashed Landscape in Clouds" painting on the surface was completely peeled off and casually tossed onto a chair to the side.

On the rosewood table, the exquisite masterpiece hidden in the dark and sunless interlayer, which had endured countless years, finally saw the light of day again.

Jiang Shou leaned closer to the lamp and stared at it with wide eyes.

This is not a painting, but a calligraphy copybook! It is small in size, only about half the size of an A4 sheet of paper.

The paper is antique in color, with slightly curled edges, looking like a tattered page cut from an ancient book. Several lines of text are written on it in tiny regular script, the handwriting dignified and beautiful, with strict rules, exuding a strong scholarly air.

"The pure air of the mountains brings clarity to the mind. With clarity of mind comes understanding of the Way, and with understanding of the Way, all things can be comprehended. I have come to this understanding by chance and record it here to encourage myself."

Jiang Shou read these lines aloud softly, then his gaze fell on the signature in the lower left corner.

The signature was written in two slightly smaller characters in running script:

【Zhengming】.

Below the signature, there was a vermilion seal. Although Jiang Shou could not recognize all the seal script characters, upon careful examination, he could vaguely make out the two characters "Hengshan" engraved on the seal.

"Zhengming? Hengshan?"

Jiang Shou frowned, feeling that the name sounded familiar. Had he seen it in a textbook or online?

He took out his phone, opened the search software, and quickly typed "Zhengming Hengshan calligraphy and painting" into the search box.

The page loaded in one second, and instantly a dense array of encyclopedia entries and related images popped up on the screen.

Wen Zhengming (1470-1559), originally named Bi, courtesy name Zhengming, was an outstanding painter, calligrapher, and writer of the Ming Dynasty. He was also known as Hengshan Jushi and was commonly referred to as "Wen Hengshan." He is considered one of the "Four Masters of the Ming Dynasty" (or the "Four Masters of Wu School"), along with Shen Zhou, Tang Yin, and Qiu Ying. His calligraphy was exceptionally accomplished; his running script and cursive script were modeled after Wang Xizhi and Zhi Yong, and his small regular script was unparalleled in the Ming Dynasty.

Jiang Shou stared at the entry on the encyclopedia, his eyes widening as his Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.

"The Four Masters of the Ming Dynasty...Wen Zhengming?!"

Although he knew nothing about antiques and calligraphy, the names of Tang Yin and Tang Bohu were legendary. Since Wen Zhengming was ranked alongside Tang Bohu as one of the "Four Masters of the Ming Dynasty," he was undoubtedly a top figure in history books, a leading figure in the literary and artistic circles of that era!

Jiang Shou's hand holding the phone began to tremble uncontrollably. He swallowed hard, quickly exited the encyclopedia entry, and retyped a line in the search box:

Auction Price of Fragmentary Wen Zhengming Small Regular Script Calligraphy

The page refreshed. Several eye-catching auction house news items popped up.

China Guardian Spring Auction: Wen Zhengming's Small Regular Script Album (13×21 cm), Estimate: RMB 120 million–180 million

Christie's Hong Kong: Chinese Paintings and Calligraphy Sale: Wen Zhengming's Seven-Character Poem in Running Script, sold for HK$150 million

"Guardian Auction Seasons: Small Works with Inscriptions by Wen Zhengming, Hammer Price 152 Million RMB"

Jiang Shou sat in his chair, staring at the millions of dollars displayed on his phone screen. He then looked up at the antique calligraphy scroll on the table.

He froze completely, muttering uncontrollably to himself:

"We've made it big! We've made it big! We've made it big!"