Story  

Perhaps it would be best for the elder to speak..." Although Man Jun intended to assist the heavyset man in explaining, he recognized that the elderly gentleman before him was clearly an expert. If he were to recount the tale himself, it might come across as boastful and overly conspicuous. 

"Uncle, could you enlighten us on the matter?" The heavyset man inquired with curiosity, while Fang Yi, lying in his hospital bed, also lifted his head, clearly intrigued. 

"Have any of you heard of Tang Yin?" The old man did not directly respond to the heavyset man's question but instead posed his own. 

"Tang Yin? Who might that be? I have a comrade named Tang Yang..." The heavyset man looked bewilderedly at San Pao, but from San Pao's expression, he sensed that this fellow likely had no knowledge of Tang Yin either. 

"Fatty, if you don't understand, perhaps you should refrain from speaking too much..." Fang Yi covered his forehead with his hand; the heavyset man's comment had practically transported them back to Fang Family Village. 

"Hmm? Young man, do you know who Tang Yin is?" 

Noticing Fang Yi's gesture, the old man couldn't help but smile. In truth, he had not expected these young individuals to provide an answer, as most people only recognized Tang Bohu, seldom realizing that Tang Yin was his given name. 

"Elder, you mean Tang Yin is Tang Bohu, right?" Fang Yi nodded and replied, "Tang Yin was a renowned painter, calligrapher, and poet of the Ming Dynasty, though his fortunes did not favor him; his poetry was often sung in brothels, overshadowing the fame of his calligraphy and paintings..." 

Although Fang Yi's master was somewhat disheveled and fond of food, it was undeniable that he possessed profound knowledge of classical literature. From a young age, he had taught Fang Yi to recite the Four Books and Five Classics, imparting the cultural anecdotes of various dynasties. 

Thus, despite having never attended formal schooling and lacking knowledge in mathematics and physics, Fang Yi was well-versed in history and literature, likely surpassing even graduate students in university. Therefore, upon hearing the name Tang Yin, he immediately recognized whom the old man referred to. 

"Tang Bohu? I know him..." 

Upon hearing Fang Yi mention Tang Yin as Tang Bohu, the heavyset man instantly perked up, exclaiming, "I've seen the movie 'Tang Bohu Spots the Autumn Fragrance.' Isn't he one of the Four Talented Scholars of Jiangnan? Haha, I must say, Zhou Xingchi's portrayal of the charming Tang Bohu had me in stitches..." 

"Fatty, those are mere anecdotes and should not be taken seriously..." 

Fang Yi shook his head in exasperation. He understood that the classical literature he learned from the old Daoist was based on historical facts, and he knew that there was no actual event like 'Tang Bohu Spots the Autumn Fragrance.' If it were a matter of Tang Bohu visiting a brothel, there might be some credibility to that. 

"You're not wrong; Tang Bohu was indeed a charming figure..." Observing the heavyset man's delight, Man Jun chimed in, "In history, only two talented individuals have been able to entice courtesans to offer their affections for free, and one of them is Tang Yin, or Tang Bohu." 

"Hmm? There are such remarkable figures? Boss Man, who is the other one besides Tang Bohu?" 

Upon hearing Man Jun's words, the heavyset man ceased his laughter. He had been acquainted with the world of salons and knew that those women were driven solely by money. He could hardly believe that there were women in that profession willing to offer their affections for free, and his admiration for such figures surged like the waters of the Yangtze River. 

"The other is Liu Yong from the Song Dynasty, though he has little connection to us..." 

Man Jun casually replied. As a practitioner in the antique trade, he had educated himself and was quite familiar with history. However, Liu Yong was known only for his poetry, and since he had left behind no artifacts, Man Jun did not regard his value as being anywhere near that of Tang Bohu. 

"This Liu Yong was also quite a talent, wasn't he?" The heavyset man's face was filled with admiration. 

"Fatty, let the elder tell his story..." Seeing that the heavyset man was eager to ask more, Fang Yi quickly interrupted, knowing that while others might have been charming, the heavyset man's inquiries would undoubtedly veer into lewdness. 

"Actually, it's not quite a story; it's a true event..." 

The old man chuckled and said, "The Jiangnan of the Song Dynasty refers to the Suzhou and Hangzhou region, not far from Jinling. Thus, Tang Bohu's calligraphy and paintings circulated widely in these areas. Years ago, they were not particularly valuable; a fan surface like this would have fetched around a few thousand yuan..." 

"Then how is it worth several tens of thousands now?" Upon hearing the old man mention money, the heavyset man's thoughts finally shifted away from the brothel. 

"To understand this, we must recount an incident from a few years ago..." The old man picked up the cup before him and took a sip of water, preparing to share a widely known tale in the antique circles of Jinling. 

As an ancient capital of the Six Dynasties, Jinling has always boasted a rich cultural atmosphere, with many enthusiasts of antique collecting. Although numerous individuals possessed exquisite collections, the turmoil of over twenty years ago had destroyed countless paintings and artifacts, leading many to keep their treasures hidden beneath the floorboards of their homes. 

At Jinling University, there was an elderly professor whose family had a longstanding passion for collecting paintings. By the time it reached his generation, he had amassed over thirty works by Tang Bohu. During the tumultuous years, these artworks were cleverly concealed within the walls of his home, preserving them from destruction. 

After the turmoil subsided, the professor discreetly retrieved the paintings. However, fearing that they might attract unwanted attention, he buried them beneath hundreds of specialized books in the corner of his study, even his own son was largely unaware of their existence. 

The professor lost his wife in middle age, and after regaining his work benefits, he formed a bond with a rural maid who cared for him, and they began living together. This maid was exceptionally attentive, ensuring the professor enjoyed a peaceful old age. 

In the final years of his life, the professor suffered a stroke, leaving him bedridden and unable to speak. As he approached death, he could only gesture towards the pile of books in his study, indicating that they were to be left for the maid who had accompanied him. 

However, what the professor never anticipated was that his final companion lacked any formal education. Each day, gazing at the books stirred a sense of melancholy within her, and just days after the professor's passing, she found a scrap collector and sold off all the books, including the paintings mixed among them, by weight. 

To make matters worse, the elderly scrap collector was also uneducated. Upon sorting through the discarded items at home, he stumbled upon the several yellowed paintings. Many of the artworks were on rice paper, and the collector deemed them unsellable, so he burned them for kindling while cooking. 

What should have remained unknown to the world was destined to fade into obscurity. Yet, the professor's son, after some time following his father's death, inadvertently encountered someone from the antique world—a collector of paintings. 

In casual conversation, the professor's son recalled that his father had seemingly left behind some rare books. He then brought that friend to his father's home, only to discover that the books had all been sold by his stepmother. 

After rummaging through the house, although he found no paintings, the professor's son did uncover some of his father's notes. Upon reviewing those notes, he learned that his father had indeed collected dozens of paintings by famous Ming Dynasty artists. 

In the mid-1990s, while the prices of antique paintings were not excessively high, the cumulative value of dozens of renowned works likely exceeded a million yuan. The professor's son was overwhelmed with urgency and promptly reported the matter to the police, hoping to track down the scrap collector. 

Involving a case worth over a million yuan, it was classified as a major case, and they quickly located the scrap collector in the suburbs. However, the outcome of their inquiry left the professor's son devastated, nearly causing him to faint on the spot. 

The paintings that had survived centuries of turmoil had been destroyed in peacetime by someone's negligence. Both the professor's son and the investigating officers felt a deep sense of loss, but there was nothing they could do to hold the collector accountable for the incident. 

Later, after organizing the professor's notes, the son compiled a list of the artworks that had been destroyed, which included thirty-five pieces by Tang Bohu, six authentic works by Zhu Zhishan, and a late-career piece by Wen Zhengming—each a priceless antique. 

Once this news spread, it sent shockwaves through the national antique community, causing the prices of Tang Bohu's previously abundant works to soar dramatically, resulting in a scarcity of available pieces and reluctance among collectors to part with them. 

Take, for example, the fan surface that Boss Man had acquired; its standard price would typically range from ten to twenty thousand yuan, but with no one willing to sell, if a genuine admirer were to appear, it could fetch upwards of fifty thousand, thus benefiting from the incident. 

"One million... just like that, it was burned away?" 

Upon hearing the old man's account, the heavyset man's eyes nearly bulged out. From what he knew, a house in the city only cost around fifty to sixty thousand yuan. If he could possess a million, he could live off the interest for the rest of his life. 

"Indeed, it is quite a pity..." 

The old man sighed, glancing at the fan surface before suddenly addressing Man Jun, "This piece, 'Watching the Plum Blossoms,' is considered a gem among Tang Bohu's works. I wonder if you would be willing to part with it? I have a particular interest in it..." 

"Hmm? You wish to acquire it?" 

Man Jun was momentarily taken aback, hesitating as he replied, "To be honest, I am in this business to sell, and I had already arranged for someone to view it later. I cannot go back on my word..." 

"Has that person made an offer? If it hasn't been finalized, might I suggest a price?" 

Upon hearing Man Jun's words, the old man chuckled. According to the customs of the antique trade, when someone is handling an item, others should refrain from bidding. However, since the other party had merely scheduled a viewing, not yet in attendance, the old man felt free to speak. 

"That does not violate any customs..." Man Jun pondered for a moment and continued, "How about this: you propose a price, and if the offer from the other party does not exceed yours, I will retrieve it for you. What do you think?"