Chapter 39: An Eye-Opener

"What kind of 'Daozuo'? It's 'Daozuo Hall' style!" Hao Jun muttered, frowning. "Old Guan, have you ever heard of that?"

Guan Xingmin shook his head. "You're the expert on miscellaneous antiques. If you haven't heard of it, where would I have?"

That was true. All enamelware before the Jiaqing era originated from the Imperial Household Department's enamel workshop, but that workshop only used a few specific hall titles. There was no such thing as a "Daozuo Hall."

However, to call this basin a later imitation was even more impossible. The sense of age was unmistakable, the "Huieqing" blue pigment was authentic, and the level of craftsmanship was undeniable—it was one hundred percent imperial manufacture.

As they were deep in thought, Lin Sicheng suddenly remarked, "It's not 'Hall,' it should be 'Room'!"

"'Daozuo Room'... Which Daozuo Room?"

"The Prince Yi Mansion!"

Hao Jun was stunned, a flash of insight crossing his mind. "Yongzheng period... Prince Yi, Yinxiang... No, wait... are you saying that enamelware was fired inside the Prince Yi Mansion?"

"It was, and for quite a while," Lin Sicheng nodded. "It started after Yongzheng ascended the throne and continued until Yinxiang passed away."

"How do you know that?"

"It's recorded in historical documents. The *Draft History of the Qing* states: 'Imperial Edict (Second Year of Yongzheng): The miscellaneous workshop (enamel workshop) produced twenty pairs of new enamel-painted handled pots; the glaze cracked and the colors were uneven... Order Yinxiang to fire them within his mansion, ensuring they are delicate...'

"The *Qing Palace Archives*: 'On the fourth day of the second month (Fourth Year of Yongzheng), Prince Yi submitted nine dark dragon wine cups. The Imperial Edict read: Two are acceptable, have the remaining seven carefully fired within your mansion...'

"On the tenth day of the third month, Prince Yi submitted Western-style enamel cups: moon-white, yellow, green, light blue, pine yellow, light green, and black—seven types in total...

"Sixth Year of Yongzheng: 'Imperial Edict: Order you (Yinxiang) to blend the *Donaer* oil (specialized enamel oil) within your mansion to provide to Nian Xiyao (Nian Gengyao's brother, then Director of the Imperial Household Department) for firing enamelware.'"

"Because corruption was rampant during the Kangxi era, enamel materials were too expensive, and the Imperial Household Department was bloated and inefficient, Yongzheng ordered Yinxiang to select craftsmen from the department to research and test-fire the ware within his own mansion. Once successful, it was then handed over to the enamel workshop for mass production. The workshop where they blended colors and conducted test firings was located in the 'Daozuo' (south-facing) rooms where the servants lived. Any enamelware test-fired there was marked with the seal 'Made in the Daozuo Room'."

Lin Sicheng spoke unhurriedly, leaving Hao Jun and Guan Xingmin completely dumbfounded.

Setting aside whether the basin was authentic or if it truly came from the Prince Yi Mansion, consider the historical references Lin Sicheng just cited: these were historical records, not poems. How could he be so precise about the dates?

Looking back at the basin: the shape was correct, the glaze was correct, the era was correct, and the provenance was incredibly detailed. Everything matched; it just hadn't been appraised by a machine yet.

Guan Xingmin's eyes lit up. "So, how should this be valued?"

Lin Sicheng thought for a moment. "It barely counts as imperial manufacture, but it certainly can't compare to the official Imperial Household versions. First, it only has paintings and a seal, but no poetry or calligraphy, which is a far cry from the 'poetry, calligraphy, painting, and seal' combination characteristic of Yongzheng enamelware.

"Second, regarding the base mark and provenance: even if it is from the Prince Yi Mansion, the 'Daozuo Room' was just where servants lived. It can't hold a candle to the 'Imperial Household' or the 'Made in the Yongzheng Era' marks.

"Third, since it's a test-firing piece, it implies the craftsmanship and glaze quality are lacking compared to the mass-produced pieces. Fourth, it's too damaged... So, it has some value, but not very high."

At first, Guan Xingmin had been listening intently, but the more he heard, the more it didn't sit right. What did he mean by "some value"? Did he need this basin to auction for five or six million before he was satisfied?

Let's get one thing straight: this was a dog bowl. They only spent two thousand on it, not two million. Not to mention, it even came with a dog!

Curses rose to his lips, but Guan Xingmin swallowed them. He poked Lin Sicheng with his finger and turned around.

Wait... what was wrong with Old Hao? His eyes were fixed, staring intently at the basin, his lips moving as if muttering something.

Leaning in closer to listen: "Damn it, this is unbelievable... damn it, this is just unbelievable..."

"A dog bowl turns out to be imperial enamelware, and I'm still the expert on miscellaneous antiques?"

Guan Xingmin chuckled, almost laughing out loud. It was understandable that they hadn't noticed at the time. First, the dog had lunged out of nowhere; it had scared them both, let alone Old Hao. Who had the presence of mind to look at what was in the dog's mouth?

Second, it was too well-hidden. Of the whole basin, only the rim—the part the dog licked frequently—was somewhat visible, specifically those two chipped goldfish. Without holding it in your arms and looking closely, you'd think it was just rusted sheet metal.

Most importantly, the basin had been filthy: covered in dog feces and dog food, a black and yellow, foul-smelling mess. You wouldn't want to hold it, let alone look at it—it was disgusting. So, they could have looked at it three more times and still missed the treasure.

What Old Hao couldn't wrap his head around was that after Lin Sicheng washed it, the glaze, craftsmanship, era, and even the mark were all visible—wasn't that evidence enough? Yet, he couldn't remember the origin of the "Daozuo Room."

And Lin Sicheng? He could recite the historical sources in perfect detail. Adding that to the feather duster from before and the purple clay teapot that followed, Old Hao's confidence completely crumbled. He couldn't beat him at calligraphy and painting, couldn't beat him at wood carving, couldn't beat him at porcelain, and now, he couldn't even beat him at miscellaneous antiques?

Then what kind of "expert" was he?

"How old are you, and how old is he?" Guan Xingmin said with a laugh, patting Hao Jun on the shoulder. "If I gave you a copy of the *Draft History of the Qing*, could you memorize it?"

Memorize it? Not a chance. Let alone with the precision to the exact date that Lin Sicheng had.

Thinking about it that way, he felt much better: it wasn't that Old Hao's eyes were bad, just that he was getting older and his memory wasn't what it used to be.

Wait, something wasn't right. "How old are you, and how old is he..." Old Guan, what was that supposed to mean?

Seeing him about to catch on, Guan Xingmin quickly changed the subject. "While the excitement is still fresh, give us an estimate!"

"Oh, right..." Hao Jun pondered for a moment. "Four or five hundred thousand is easy. If you run into a real connoisseur, six or seven hundred thousand would be normal."

Lin Sicheng nodded. "That's high enough."

Guan Xingmin nodded as well; it was indeed high enough. He had previously thought it would only be three or four hundred thousand. Of course, it was a far cry from the five or six million that Yongzheng enamelware had been fetching lately, but as Lin Sicheng said, it was a test-firing piece that only barely touched upon "imperial manufacture." It wasn't low at all.

Besides, they had picked it up as a dog bowl—how much more did he want to sell it for?

Hao Jun took the basin and shook the water from the bottom. "If you're not in a hurry, I'll take it back to the shop and try to sell it for eight hundred thousand for you!"

After swindling Professor Wang out of five hundred thousand yesterday, Lin Sicheng certainly wasn't in a hurry.

"Sure, take your time..."

Before he could finish, a voice came from behind: "Eight hundred thousand, I'll take it..."

Wait, where did that come from?

The three of them reflexively turned around.

Under the shade of the trees by the road, separated from them only by a green belt, sat a brand-new Mercedes SUV with Beijing plates.

All the windows were down, and a circle of heads was visible inside. The car had been parked there the whole time, but with the windows up, no one knew there was anyone inside. The three of them had been so focused on washing the dog bowl that they hadn't noticed the carload of people watching the spectacle for quite a while.

Looking closely: there were men and women, old and young, all with the same look of astonishment—they looked at the dog, then at Lin Sicheng, then back at the dog, and then at Lin Sicheng again.

Their expressions were all equally bizarre: A dog bowl can be an antique? Thinking back to earlier, covered in dog poop and smelling horrible? And now? Worth seven or eight hundred thousand?

They had certainly learned something new today.