Centuries of Agarwood (Part Two)

This string of agarwood flow beads is quite remarkable. I often wear it during meditation, and it facilitates my entrance into a state of tranquility with ease..." 

Fang Yi held a deep affection for this string of old agarwood prayer beads, not only because they were a cherished relic from his master, but also due to their unique properties. The subtle fragrance emitted by the beads would naturally soothe the mind during moments of agitation, fostering a sense of calm. 

"You are fortunate, young man; your master is indeed an extraordinary figure..." 

Elder Sun fondled the agarwood string with great admiration and remarked, "Xiao Fang, if the opportunity arises, could you introduce me to your master? Anyone capable of preserving such exquisite agarwood beads must be a true connoisseur..." 

Elder Sun, with his vast knowledge and a lifetime spent in the museum, had a profound understanding of antiquities, delving into nearly every category, including the realm of curiosities represented by such beads. 

In fact, the term "curiosities" did not exist in earlier times; classifications of antiques included ceramics, bronze, and gold and silver artifacts, while all other miscellaneous items were broadly categorized as curiosities. These two categories could easily overlap, thus falling within the purview of Sun Lianda's expertise. 

"Elder Sun, my late master passed away three years ago..." 

Upon hearing Elder Sun express a desire to meet his master, Fang Yi couldn't help but smile wryly. While he acknowledged the old Taoist was indeed a remarkable individual, he certainly lacked the refinement of a gentleman, having engaged in many unseemly acts throughout his life. 

"Ah, what a pity..." Elder Sun shook his head with a look of regret, just as the door to the hospital room was unexpectedly pushed open. A middle-aged man in his forties entered, carrying a food container. 

"Father, what is going on here?" 

Upon spotting Fang Yi, the middle-aged man's expression soured instantly as he exclaimed, "Did I not pay for a private room? Why has the hospital allowed someone else to occupy it? I will speak to the administration..." 

This middle-aged man, named Sun Chao, was the eldest son of Sun Lianda. He had initially studied traditional Chinese painting before switching to Western oil painting, spending over a decade abroad, where he earned considerable acclaim and is now a well-known young painter both domestically and internationally. 

Sun Chao was a devoted son. Although he had left home to pursue his studies, upon achieving success, he returned to establish galleries in both the capital and Jinling, setting up his studio in Jinling to care for his father more conveniently. 

Originally, Sun Chao had lived with his father, but due to the urgency of completing several paintings for an overseas gallery, he had been staying at his studio. He had not anticipated that in just a few days, his father would slip and fall while going to the bathroom late at night, filling Sun Chao with guilt. 

As there were no private rooms available at the hospital, Sun Chao had negotiated with the doctor to secure a two-person room for his father and even hired a caregiver. However, upon his arrival today, he was dismayed to find another person occupying the room, causing his anger to flare. 

"Father, where is the caregiver? Why is he not here?" Sun Chao scanned the room, noticing the absence of the caregiver he had hired at a premium, his expression growing increasingly troubled. 

"Xiao Chao, what are you shouting about?" 

Seeing his son enter with a displeased demeanor, Sun Lianda tapped the bedside with his hand and said irritably, "The caregiver had a family matter; I told him to come in the evening. What's the problem? Do I not have the right to make such decisions?" 

"Father, that's not what I meant..." Sensing his father's irritation, Sun Chao quickly adopted a conciliatory tone, saying, "But the hospital cannot just assign someone else to stay here; I paid for the entire room..." 

In truth, having spent so much time abroad, Sun Chao was unaware of the intricacies of domestic hospitals. 

Hospitals do not profit from bed occupancy; their revenue primarily comes from injections, medications, and surgical fees. Although Sun Chao had paid for two beds, that was under the assumption that no patients would occupy them. Should someone check in, they would certainly be accommodated. 

"Ridiculous! This hospital isn't ours; how can they refuse to admit a patient?" Sun Lianda admonished his son and added, "Having Xiao Fang here to talk with me is far better than being alone..." 

He smiled apologetically at Fang Yi and gestured toward his son, saying, "Xiao Fang, this is my eldest son, Sun Chao, an artist. You may call him Brother Sun..." 

"Brother Sun, I am Fang Yi..." Fang Yi lay on the hospital bed, offering a wry smile as he said, "I am unable to move due to my accident, so I apologize for any neglect towards Brother Sun..." 

"Xiao Fang, just rest easy..." Sun Chao understood that the situation was not Fang Yi's fault. He settled at his father's bedside, retrieving the food container to prepare a meal for him. 

"Xiao Chao, there's no rush to eat; take a look at this..." Sun Lianda fiddled with the agarwood beads, preparing to hand them to his son when he suddenly withdrew his hand and said, "Go wash your hands first and come back after drying them..." 

"Father, I see your professional habits are acting up again?" Sun Chao, always patient with his father, complied and stepped out to wash his hands before returning to the room, taking the old agarwood beads from his father's hand. 

"Ah? A remarkable piece! This string of agarwood appears to be of royal provenance..." 

Those who possess a certain level of skill in painting must also have the ability to calm their minds. Sun Chao, who enjoyed playing with various prayer beads and strings, had a wealth of knowledge in this area, quickly recognizing the extraordinary nature of the agarwood string. 

"Royal provenance?" Sun Lianda paused, taken aback, as he had not discerned that detail. 

"Father, I believe it is indeed correct..." Sun Chao picked up the magnifying glass resting on the bedside and meticulously examined the beads. After a while, he nodded and said, "Without a doubt, this string must originate from the royal collection..." 

"Xiao Chao, how can you be so certain?" 

Hearing his son's assertion, Sun Lianda furrowed his brow. From the somewhat irregular shape and patina of the agarwood, he could surmise that it dated back to the early Qing Dynasty, yet there were no distinguishing marks or carvings to indicate it was royal. He was puzzled as to how his son had reached that conclusion. 

"Father, during my studies in France, I attended an auction where a string of eighteen agarwood prayer beads was featured..." 

The event Sun Chao referred to took place over a decade ago when he had just arrived in France to study oil painting. In the 1980s, few ventured abroad, but those who did formed a close-knit community, often organizing activities to integrate into French society, and Sun Chao participated in nearly every event. 

At a small auction hosted by a French artist, Sun Chao encountered a string of eighteen old agarwood prayer beads that captivated him. However, having just moved abroad with limited funds, he could only watch as a fellow student purchased the string. 

Due to his fondness for the beads, Sun Chao approached the French artist to inquire about their origins, learning that the artist's great-grandfather had participated in the Eight-Nation Alliance and had acquired the beads as spoils from the Summer Palace. 

According to the French artist, the original string had consisted of thirty-six beads, but during a scuffle, only eighteen were obtained by his grandfather, while the rest remained unaccounted for. 

Sun Chao had developed a deep affection for that string and, despite feeling embarrassed, borrowed it from his friend for over a month, becoming intimately familiar with its characteristics. 

Thus, even after more than ten years, upon closely inspecting Fang Yi's string of agarwood beads, he immediately recognized that these twelve beads were undoubtedly from the same source as the ones he had seen two decades prior. 

After recounting his experience abroad, Sun Chao turned to his father with a serious expression and said, "Father, I have consulted the Palace Museum's artifact catalog, which records a string of agarwood prayer beads once handled by Emperor Kangxi. I suspect this may be the very same string..." 

"I have seen that catalog entry as well..." Sun Lianda nodded and remarked, "Once an antique is associated with royalty, its value skyrockets. Xiao Chao, can you provide an estimate for this piece?" 

"Father, are you testing me?" 

Sun Chao chuckled upon hearing his father's question, aware that neither he nor his brother wished to follow in their father's footsteps in authentication, which left Sun Lianda with a sense of unfulfilled expectations. Thus, he would occasionally pose challenging questions to them. 

"Agarwood is the king of fragrances, esteemed above all others; ancient sayings equate one tael of agarwood to one tael of gold. It possesses remarkable properties, aiding in mental clarity, nourishing the five organs, enhancing vitality, warming the lower back and knees, and alleviating respiratory distress, rendering it extraordinarily precious..." 

Had it been a different subject, Sun Chao might have faltered, but he was well-versed in the study of curiosities. He spoke fluently, "This string of old agarwood beads boasts a rich patina and lustrous sheen, with a fragrance that endures through time, making it a superior specimen among agarwood. Furthermore, given its probable royal origin and significant cultural value, I would estimate its worth to be between three hundred to five hundred thousand yuan. Of course, if auctioned, it could fetch an even higher price..." 

"What item is worth three to five hundred thousand?" Before Sun Chao could finish, the door swung open, and the portly man along with San Pao entered, carrying several takeout boxes. 

"Are you friends of Xiao Fang?" Sun Chao regarded the two newcomers with curiosity, but upon seeing the portly man place the takeout boxes on Fang Yi's bedside, he quickly understood. 

"Oh, so you're Brother Sun Chao. My apologies for not recognizing you..." 

Upon discovering that Sun Chao was Elder Sun's son, the portly man brightened up, momentarily forgetting the previous discussion about the three to five hundred thousand, and sat down beside Sun Chao, exclaiming, "Brother Sun Chao, I was just about to seek Elder Sun's guidance in antique authentication. If he were to accept me as a disciple, wouldn't we all be family?"