Chapter Twenty: The Scroll of Rivers and Mountains

"Sixty million!" Master Yan raised his paddle to bid. The entire private room fell silent after his shout. Though everyone knew of Master Yan's passion for collecting antiques, none had expected him to drive the price up to sixty million.

"Seventy million!" Huang Hai called out right after.

"Eighty million!" Qin Feng responded without hesitation.

Once Qin Feng spoke, everyone was stunned again, staring at him as if he were some kind of anomaly.

Master Yan, however, chose that moment to speak, after all, Qin Feng was his disciple.

"Everyone, let’s not compete with me today. Let’s make this painting a gift for my disciple. What do you say?" Master Yan said with a smile.

Huang Hai and the other elders exchanged glances, ultimately choosing not to raise the bid further.

"Since Master Yan requests it, the painting is yours," Huang Hai said.

The other elders also expressed their agreement.

Master Yan, hearing this, looked at Qin Feng with satisfaction.

Qin Feng gave him a dazzling smile in return.

Soon after, Master Yan paid for "The Landscape Map," and Qin Feng's wallet grew much heavier.

"Haha! I’ve grown tired of these old paintings and antiques. Little Feng is remarkable—silent until he stuns everyone!" Master Yan laughed.

Qin Feng modestly scratched his head, "Hehe, Master, let me show you something interesting."

With that, he stood up and approached the painting.

"Master, actually, this painting is a forgery."

At those words, everyone present showed disdain.

This painting was clearly the work of a late Li Tang dynasty artist, its craftsmanship extraordinary, a rarity in the world—how could it possibly be a fake?

"Little Feng, you are Master Yan's disciple, but you mustn't cause trouble here!" Huang Hai scolded sharply.

Yet the very next second, his voice abruptly ceased, his eyes widened in disbelief.

Qin Feng extended his finger and began to explain.

"Esteemed elders, please be patient and hear me out," Qin Feng spoke calmly and confidently, gently caressing the scroll.

"This painting is indeed the work of a master, but its true ingenuity lies in the fact that it is not an original, but a peerless replica."

As he spoke, Qin Feng's fingers traced every detail—from the layering of mountains, the flow of mist, to the subtle variations of ink. His gaze shone with the sharpness of keen insight.

"Please observe here—the technique used on the rocks emulates Li Tang's style to perfection, but upon closer inspection, the brushstrokes possess an intentional fluidity, lacking the sense of weathered timelessness found in the original. And as for the flowing water, though shimmering and lifelike, it lacks the random, irreplaceable beauty bestowed by nature."

Master Yan’s brow furrowed, then relaxed, a spark of curiosity in his eyes. After all, his disciple was in the spotlight, which reflected well on him.

Master Yan encouraged Qin Feng, signaling the others to listen attentively.

Qin Feng nodded and continued, "Furthermore, the inscription and seal, though seemingly flawless, hide subtle clues. Authentic late Li Tang masters often varied their inscription styles, but the one on this painting, despite careful imitation, fails to capture the true freedom and wildness of the originals. As for the seal, while the carving is exquisite, the color of the seal paste and its sense of age do not quite match the overall style—a detail that time cannot disguise."

He paused, scanning the room—where once there had been skepticism and disdain, now there was earnest attention and contemplation.

He smiled slightly, requested a magnifying glass from the staff, and placed it over a tiny area of the painting.

"Here, in the lower right corner, you’ll find a nearly invisible sign of restoration. Though the repair work is masterful, at the junction of old and new materials, there is a barely perceptible difference in color. More importantly, beneath this patch lies a line of minuscule script—almost impossible to see without professional tools."

Following Qin Feng’s guidance, the crowd leaned in, and with the magnifying glass, they indeed found the tiny, forgotten inscription.

It was a neat line of regular script: "Li Tang’s landscape, to express emotion, autumn of the Bingzi year."

The room fell silent again, then erupted in astonished exclamations and discussion.

Huang Hai was particularly shocked. He never could have imagined that such a seemingly flawless work was truly a replica.

"Little Feng, your eyes are truly sharp!" Master Yan exclaimed, his voice full of pride and comfort.

Qin Feng smiled modestly, putting away the magnifying glass and clapping his hands lightly.

"Master flatters me, but this isn't the most important part!"

With those words, he tore the painting in half and threw it to the floor.

"This...!"

Master Yan and the others were stunned.

Though the painting was a fake, it had cost a real eighty million. Even with a discount, it was worth at least ten million. What kind of operation was this?

Qin Feng offered no explanation. He picked up the remaining scroll, turned to Huang Hai and the others.

"Don’t be anxious. You’ll understand soon."

Then he asked the staff for a razor blade, pinched it between his fingers, and gently sliced at the base of the scroll.

The round cap at the bottom fell off, but Qin Feng ignored it and tipped the scroll.

"A painting hidden within a painting?"

Many had already guessed what was happening. Compared to a painting-within-a-painting, this method was simpler and easier to preserve. All it took was removing the bottom cap and laying the paper flat.

"Indeed!" Master Yan's eyes lit up—he had guessed what Qin Feng was about to do.

Qin Feng unrolled the painting, then tapped gently on the paper.

Huang Hai and the others were visibly shocked.

Qin Feng smiled, speaking to the assembled crowd: "This is the authentic masterpiece 'Map of Rivers and Mountains.'"

With Qin Feng’s announcement, the atmosphere in the room reached its peak, everyone’s gaze locked on the newly revealed painting in his hands. The genuine "Map of Rivers and Mountains"—a legendary treasure known only from ancient records and rumor—now so vividly present before their eyes, its impact was indescribable.

Compared to the replica, the real "Map of Rivers and Mountains" was worlds apart. The rivers and mountains seemed alive, each stroke infused with the grandeur and subtlety of nature. Mist curled among the peaks, evoking both ethereal transcendence and grounded solidity.

The technique on the rocks was bold and powerful; each stone appeared shaped by millennia of wind and rain, bearing the marks of history and the passage of time.