Chapter 12: Embarrassment? A Perfect Match!

This is fake.

The words hung in the air, stunning everyone present.

All eyes turned to Lu Qingfei in disbelief.

They had wanted her to witness, not to appraise!

Liu Guanyun quickly regained his usual calm composure, as if nothing at all had happened.

The middle-aged police officer’s pupils contracted sharply; he exchanged a meaningful glance with Jinyu.

Is it true or not?

Mei Kaihan retorted harshly, “Nonsense, this is obviously genuine!”

Jinyu frowned. “That’s not something to say carelessly.”

“The real Five-Colored Dragon-Patterned Porcelain Jar has green dragon whiskers,” Lu Qingfei said unhurriedly, removing her gloves without looking up. “But the dragon whiskers on this piece are red.”

Jinyu immediately took up a magnifying glass to examine it. Indeed, the dragon whiskers were red.

She asked Lu Qingfei, “How do you know the whiskers of the authentic artifact are green?”

“I know! I know!” Wei Ze raised his hand, eager to answer. “Because her graduation thesis was on this very subject.”

“Graduation thesis?” Jinyu echoed.

Lu Qingfei pulled out her phone, tapped through her files, found her thesis, opened the attached images, and zoomed in—again and again.

“These were photos taken by archaeologists the year the tomb was discovered,” she explained.

Jinyu, magnifying glass in hand, peered at the most minute details of the photo, and suddenly everything became clear.

“The whiskers are indeed green.”

The difference between the thousand-year-old counterfeit and the original was plain to see.

Far from making a fool of herself, Lu Qingfei was proving her expertise.

The middle-aged police officer slowly closed his eyes. At last, the tension in his heart snapped.

Even Mei Kaihan, who prided himself on his composure, was inwardly shaken, though his face remained untroubled. Even he hadn’t noticed the discrepancy in color; yet Lu Qingfei had.

Jinyu’s admiration for Lu Qingfei shone through as she praised her, “Your observation is remarkably meticulous.”

With such a promising younger generation, what worry was there about the loss of traditional crafts?

“I had no choice—it was for graduation,” Lu Qingfei replied modestly.

“Why have fake artifacts become so rampant lately?” the middle-aged officer grumbled. “It feels like someone’s trying to hinder our investigation.”

Wei Ze agreed, “There’s definitely something fishy about all this!”

Mei Kaihan stood up, still carrying that aloof, solitary air, his tone apologetic:

“Forgive me; I handed it over without confirming its authenticity.”

The police officer waved him off. “No harm done, Mr. Mei. You were only concerned about the artifact leaving our care. That’s understandable.”

“In that case, I have other matters to attend to. I’ll take my leave.”

“Wei Ze, see Mr. Mei out, would you?”

“Of course.”

Liu Guanyun’s apprentice asked, “Master, doesn’t he have a heavy aura of evil about him? Why don’t you suspect him?”

Liu Guanyun glanced at him. “Mei Kaihan’s a tomb guardian. He wanders ancient tombs daily. It’d be odd if he didn’t carry some evil aura.”

His apprentice suddenly understood. “So that’s it.”

“We’ve lost another lead,” the middle-aged officer sighed, sitting down and sipping his tea, his brow deeply furrowed. “The longer this drags on, the less likely we are to find anything.”

“Teacher Jin, who is he?” Lu Qingfei withdrew her gaze from Mei Kaihan and asked curiously.

“Mei Kaihan. He’s been a tomb guardian for seven or eight years now. Under his care, the artifacts in the tomb have been well preserved,” Jinyu explained. “He’s no longer officially the guardian, but he still helps us look for clues. He’s responsible and diligent.”

Lu Qingfei listened intently, then posed a question:

“Don’t you think Mei Kaihan bears a striking resemblance to the portrait of Prince Rui from history?”

Jinyu chuckled. “It’s normal for people to resemble each other. Two eyes, a nose, a mouth, after all.”

“Princess Rui married Prince Rui at sixteen, and at eighteen was hung on the city wall by him for three days and nights. Her only family, her mother, tried to plead for her out of love, but was murdered by the prince’s favored concubine. The princess, learning of this, clung to a colored porcelain jar, longing for her mother, and eventually died of a broken heart.”

“In the third year after her death, Prince Rui realized he’d truly loved her. Regretful, he dug up her grave and spent his days sleeping with the porcelain jar. After his own death, he was buried with it.”

Lu Qingfei recounted the tale, her voice carrying a subtle, enchanting quality.

No one interrupted her as she spoke.

When she finished, Jinyu couldn’t help but laugh. “What, do you think this is an online novel? Hung on the city wall for three days and nights, and then three years after death?”

The middle-aged officer also chuckled. “That’s far too dramatic.”

“I’m not joking,” Lu Qingfei said seriously. “Prince Rui was capable of digging up a grave for a porcelain jar—perhaps he’s behind this, too.”

Her words left everyone first startled, then amused by her wild imagination.

“The ghost of Prince Rui stole the artifact? That’s just nonsense,” the officer said. “Artifacts are real. Ghosts are not.”

“Young as you are, you’re even more superstitious than I am,” Jinyu laughed, eyes narrowing at Lu Qingfei.

Liu Guanyun, who had been silent, coughed twice. “Metaphysics can be trusted.”

Jinyu and the police officer exchanged amused glances.

Metaphysics, perhaps. Ghosts, certainly not. And the ghost of Prince Rui—utterly unbelievable.

Previously, while researching the Five-Colored Dragon-Patterned Jar, Lu Qingfei had scoured countless official and unofficial histories, and always found this story the least credible.

Yet now, she was no longer so sure.

Wei Ze, returning from seeing the guest out, caught the last of this and joked, “We’ve searched so long and found nothing. Maybe a ghost really did steal it! Should we issue a search warrant for the underworld and see what turns up?”

The police officer reached out and rapped Wei Ze on the head.

“Does that hurt?”

“Yes,” Wei Ze replied, rubbing his head, aggrieved.

“If it hurts, then get moving and find out where this fake came from,” the officer said, exasperated. “Or are you waiting for the suspect to grow a conscience and turn themselves in?”

Though a counterfeit, the piece was still a thousand years old. Jinyu stayed behind to continue her research.

Lu Qingfei exited the police station.

Liu Guanyun’s apprentice called after her, “Miss Lu!”

Liu Guanyun’s gaze was oddly intent on Lu Qingfei.

She wore casual clothes topped with a businesslike black jacket. As she turned, the breeze lifted her fringe, revealing bright eyes, clear as the sky after rain. Recognizing her, Lu Qingfei curved her lips into a polite smile. Her complexion was fairer than frost or snow, and her smile softened in the sunlight.

The last time Liu Guanyun had returned to his temple, he had asked their founder why the heavy evil air of the tomb had dissipated in an instant.

The founder had no answer.

Liu Guanyun suspected Lu Qingfei was involved, though he had yet to figure out why.

Lu Qingfei’s eyes dropped, focusing on the talisman paper in Liu Guanyun’s hand.

“How much for a Celestial Master’s talisman?” she asked.

Both Liu Guanyun and his apprentice were taken aback.

After a stunned pause, Liu Guanyun replied, “They’re not for sale.”

“Could I borrow one, then?” Lu Qingfei asked sincerely.

Once used, a talisman is spent—how could it be returned?

Nevertheless, Liu Guanyun handed her one.

After confirming how his name was written, Lu Qingfei took out a ballpoint pen, scribbled a note, and handed it to Liu Guanyun.

“Celestial Master Liu, I’ll be going now. Thank you for the talisman.”

Liu Guanyun took it reflexively. When he looked up again, he saw only her departing figure.

“Master, what did she write?” his apprentice asked, craning his neck.