Chapter 42: Could He Actually Have Been Telling the Truth?

The morning mist had yet to disperse, and the bluestone path shimmered with dampness. Lin Sicheng huddled in the shadow of a crooked old locust tree.

He held a coarse porcelain bowl in his palms, the spicy aroma rising in curls of steam, his lips reddened from the heat. All around him were fellow diners, squatting in a line along the curb, the sound of slurping soup filling the air.

Xiao Yuzhu glanced at him once, then again. She pulled out her phone and tapped out a text message: "Senior Sister Li, I’ve found Lin Sicheng. He’s at Old Xing’s Hot and Sour Soup stand by the north gate of the academy."

Li Zhen replied almost instantly: "I’ll be there in a moment."

"Got it."

Pocketing her phone, Xiao Yuzhu pretended to wait in line. Barely five minutes later, Li Zhen came jogging up to the entrance of the eatery.

*So, they finally caught him?*

Professor Shang had been asking about him every day, and she had run out of excuses. She couldn't very well tell her mentor that Lin Sicheng had promised to see her after class, only to stand her up—for three days straight.

She caught her breath and navigated the queue to find Xiao Yuzhu.

"Senior Sister, aren't you going to corner him?"

"No rush. Even a prisoner gets a hearty meal before the execution!"

"True. What do you want to eat?"

"Get me a beef pancake, no soup!"

Xiao Yuzhu nodded. "I know!"

There were seats available on the second floor, but what if Lin Sicheng ran off? Li Zhen looked left and right. Seeing that Lin Sicheng only had his soup bowl and no pancake, she hurried over to the porridge and pastry stall next door and ordered two baskets of steamed buns and three cups of soy milk.

***

Drinking only soup wasn't enough to fill him up, but the pancakes at Old Xing’s were too bland, so Lin Sicheng hadn't ordered one. As he set down his empty bowl, debating whether to get two meat-filled buns or two more baskets of steamed buns, two figures blocked the sun.

He looked up instinctively. Xiao Yuzhu blinked at him with a look that said, "Let’s see where you can run this time."

Li Zhen stood silent, watching him quietly, her demeanor as gentle and serene as still water.

Lin Sicheng’s heart skipped a beat. *Oh, no.*

He had promised to see Professor Shang, but he had completely pushed it to the back of his mind. He offered a sheepish smile and stood up. "Senior Sister!"

Li Zhen tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You can't be full on just soup, can you? Here..."

She handed him two baskets of meat buns and a cup of soy milk.

Lin Sicheng hesitated. This breakfast was going to be hard to digest, he feared.

***

Xiao Yuzhu chuckled with schadenfreude: "Now that you've eaten Senior Sister’s buns, you can't stand her up again, right?"

*Why do you have to bring up the very thing I want to forget?*

Lin Sicheng didn't say a word, simply taking the food. Li Zhen inserted a straw and handed him the soy milk. "What classes do you have this morning?"

Xiao Yuzhu shook her head. "No core classes, anyway. Even if he did, he wouldn't attend them properly!"

Lin Sicheng sighed. "Xiao Yuzhu, it’s a real shame you weren't born before the Liberation."

Xiao Yuzhu thought for a moment, then balled up her fist and punched his arm. "You’re the traitor!"

It felt like a tickle to him, and Lin Sicheng didn't care. He looked at the sun, which had just crested the horizon. "Professor Shang hasn't started work yet, has she?"

"It’s fine. Once she knows you’re coming, she’ll definitely be in the office."

"I’ll go to the classroom to drop off my bag first!"

"Sure, I'll walk with Ah Zhu; I'm going that way too!"

Lin Sicheng paused. "Actually... Senior Sister Li, Professor Wang told me to stop by his office first thing after arriving at school!"

*Which Professor Wang? The new one?* That was the same excuse he used last time.

Li Zhen smiled faintly. "It’s fine. I’ll wait for you outside his office. As it happens, Professor Wang and Professor Shang are in the same building."

Lin Sicheng sighed helplessly. It seemed he couldn't escape. *Fine. Whether I stick my neck out or pull it back, the blade is coming either way.*

"Senior Sister, let’s go then!"

"Alright!"

Li Zhen nodded, and together with Xiao Yuzhu, they flanked him on both sides, as if afraid he might bolt.

Just as the three of them reached the end of the street, a Mercedes-Benz pulled over. Six or seven people piled out of the car in a bustling group, but Wang Qizhi was not among them. Shan Wangshu pointed toward the alley, and the group headed in. Ye Anning, who had just turned around, stopped in her tracks.

She narrowed her eyes slightly, staring at the backs of the three. *That boy in the middle... he looks a bit like the person who picked up the dog bowl yesterday.*

*Did I see wrong?*

Just as she was scrutinizing him, Wang Huaizhi tapped her. "What are you looking at? Let's go!"

"Oh..."

***

Once they reached the classroom, Lin Sicheng thought very carefully.

It wasn't that he couldn't refuse; if he really wanted to make excuses, he could come up with a dozen. He was considering how to decline Professor Shang’s favor while still strengthening his relationship with her and Li Zhen.

Why else?

Those twenty-odd Han dynasty tiles had been sitting there for nearly two weeks. When the machines arrived, he couldn't possibly mold them all by himself, piece by piece. He didn't know many people yet, so he couldn't let a workhorse like Xiao Yuzhu go, but if Senior Sister Li could find the time to help, wouldn't it be faster and better?

Besides, having an electric kiln and a throwing wheel was far from enough. He would need 3D scanning, projection modeling, far-infrared heating, and even air compression and electric grouting.

For now, he could only borrow from the school’s ceramics laboratory, and since Professor Shang was the deputy head of the ceramics group, he would need her approval.

If that didn't work, should he just buy a set himself and build a small studio?

As soon as the thought occurred, Lin Sicheng sighed. With the million or so he had on hand, never mind a studio, he could barely afford a set of modeling equipment.

But he would have to build one sooner or later.

Because if he wanted to make money—a lot of money—he had to rely on "puzzling" ceramics.

In 2014, Skinner Auctioneers in the US sold a Qianlong polychrome glazed vase for 25 million dollars. Before it was assembled, when the large jar was broken into seven or eight pieces, the investment firm had spent only 700,000 yuan on the shards.

Two years later, at the China Guardian auctions, a Qing Yongzheng blue-and-white porcelain vase with red floral patterns appeared. That was an even more classic case: before being assembled, it was just a pile of broken porcelain, with no piece larger than a fist, and it wasn't even complete—once finished, it was only two-thirds of the original item. Yet, it still sold for 5.4 million.

So, how much could you really make from "picking up leaks"? It relied on luck, and if you were unlucky, you might not find a single piece in three years.

But with "puzzling" ceramics, there was no such worry.

It was best if you could find a complete set of broken pieces, but even if you couldn't, you could still piece together shards from the same period. A single shard of Song dynasty Jun ware only cost a thousand or so, but if you could assemble even a small piece, it would be worth four or five hundred thousand.

About half of the family fortune his grandfather had saved for him came from this.

But he didn't have his grandfather’s status or prestige; there was no way he could rely on the lab indefinitely—at most, he could only mooch off it occasionally.

Therefore, he had to push himself to earn. He didn't need much; if he could have five or six million by the time he graduated next year, he could roughly get a studio up and running.

If that didn't work, he’d just have to rely on his family. Why suffer needlessly if he didn't have to?

Seeing him sitting there in a daze, Li Zhen didn't urge him, slowly finishing her beef pancake while chatting with Xiao Yuzhu.

Just as they were finishing, Lin Sicheng’s phone buzzed. He picked it up, and Wang Qizhi’s voice came through: "Have you arrived at school yet?"

Li Zhen looked suspicious. *Lin Sicheng actually wasn't lying?*