Chapter Thirty-One: The Most Beautiful Person in the Mirror

“Yan Hui, which school did you graduate from? Who was your advisor? Great teachers produce great students. With your current insight and expertise, I might even know your advisor,” Professor Jiang asked curiously as we walked.

“He had an advisor?” Yue Qianling shot me a disdainful look, her tone arrogant. “Professor Jiang, he never even went to school.”

“What?!” Professor Jiang stopped in his tracks and stared at me, bewildered. “You? You never went to school?”

“No… no, not at all. Kids in the mountains usually don’t go to school, and we couldn’t afford it,” I replied, my expression open and untroubled.

“Then… then where did you learn all your knowledge about jade appraisal?” Professor Jiang asked in amazement.

“Well, it sounds mysterious, but some of my knowledge about antiques seems innate. For instance, when I look at an artifact, all the relevant history and information about it just naturally come to mind, even its provenance,” I answered calmly, spreading my hands. “Of course, I also learned a lot from books.”

“You mean you could understand all that just from books?” Yue Qianling scoffed, unconvinced.

“Yes, of course. For example, ‘The Collected Records of Treasures,’ ‘The Complete Jade Anthology,’ and ‘The Ten Volumes of Pinggu’—these books are all records of precious cultural relics from various dynasties…”

“Yan Hui, hold on—what did you just say?!” Professor Jiang grabbed my arm and stared at me wide-eyed. “‘The Collected Records of Treasures,’ ‘The Complete Jade Anthology,’ and ‘The Ten Volumes of Pinggu’—you’re saying you’ve read these?”

I nodded blankly, uncertain. “Yes, I’ve read them all—and can recite them by heart. Is something wrong?”

“But those books are all lost to history! How… how could you have them?” Professor Jiang asked, astonished.

“They’re lost? I… I really didn’t know. And not just those. ‘The Annals of Hao Lian,’ ‘The Chronicle of Everlasting Burial’—there are so many. As long as the books were in the house, I could basically recite them all.”

Professor Jiang clutched his chest, his lips moving as if in a trance, looking somewhat alarming.

“Professor Jiang, please calm down! You have a heart condition! It’s just a few books, is it worth getting so worked up?” Yue Qianling hurried to support him, anxious.

“Do you know what those books Yan Hui just mentioned are for?” he asked.

Yue Qianling shook her head, indifferent.

“They are the burial records for officials above the fifth rank, imperial consorts, and even emperors, from various dynasties!”

“Burial records?”

“Books recording the burial items, listing in detail each one’s specifications, size, purpose, and material. These are classified secrets, since such detailed records could aid tomb robbers. So, throughout history, these books were systematically destroyed. They are now lost. The range of relics they document, the detail of classification, the variety of forms—it's unimaginable.”

“Oh, no wonder you know so much about antique appraisal. You really did learn it all from books,” Yue Qianling finally understood, nodding with a smile. “Don’t you get bored reading those old tomes all the time?”

“Of course I do, but what can I do? Try it yourself—alone all day, with no one to talk to. If you don’t read, what else is there?”

“But those are all ancient texts, obscure and hard to understand. You say no one taught you—how did you make sense of them?”

“I find reading these books quite easy. I have a photographic memory; after reading once, I remember everything. At night, the contents appear in my dreams, as if the antiques described are right before me, almost within reach. When I wake up, I understand everything.”

Professor Jiang, who had spent decades of hard study to reach his current achievements, found my story incredible, yet I didn’t strike him as someone who would make up tales.

“I always felt your manner of speech and bearing had an ancient quality. Turns out you’ve been steeped in books all along. Such fortune is rare indeed. Many spend their whole lives striving for what you possess naturally. You must make the most of it—your future is limitless,” Professor Jiang said with emotion.

“Don’t flatter him, Professor. He already thinks the world of himself. Praise him any more and he’ll soar to the heavens,” Yue Qianling said snidely, rolling her eyes. “I still lack a lot of material for my thesis. Hurry up and help me.”

“Hetian jade! Hetian jade! Final clearance sale! Don’t miss out—last batch!” a vendor cried out loudly from a nearby, crowded stall, clearly doing brisk business.

“Let’s go have a look. Hetian jade is excellent,” I said, stopping Yue Qianling as I glanced at the sky.

“No point, once dawn breaks, the ghost market closes. Why waste time among a pile of fakes?”

“How do you know they’re fake if you haven’t looked?”

“In Xinjiang’s Hetian region, the supply of Hetian jade from the Yulong Kashgar River is already extremely scarce. While not absolutely gone, it’s certainly not everywhere. Such valuable material—who do you know who’d sell it wholesale?”

Professor Jiang nodded with a smile. “True Hetian river jade wouldn’t show up here.”

“We’ve looked all night—this is fake, that’s fake. I don’t think there’s anything genuine in this ghost market,” Yue Qianling complained, disappointed.

I raised my hand and listened intently for a moment, then spoke, delighted. “Who says there’s nothing genuine? Listen—listen carefully.”

“Yan Hui, you… you can hear jade?!” Professor Jiang asked, astonished again.

“What do you mean, hear jade?” Yue Qianling asked in confusion.

“When it comes to identifying jade, the most refined method is by sound,” Professor Jiang explained as he followed me. “In the past, to judge a man’s status and taste, people didn’t look at his appearance or height, but listened for the sound as he passed—if the jade ornaments he wore chimed clearly, it meant he was adorned with superior jade.”

“But all jade sounds the same to me,” Yue Qianling said, baffled after listening for a while.

“Jade has spirit; its sound is melodious, like the music of heaven. It brings comfort to the body. With sound alone, one can absolutely judge jade’s quality. But nowadays, few if any can distinguish real from fake, or good from bad, by ear alone. I certainly can’t,” Professor Jiang said patiently.

I stopped at a stall displaying various small items. Several jade pendants hung there, swaying gently in the morning breeze, their delicate collisions producing a clear, ethereal sound.

Professor Jiang adjusted his glasses for a closer look, a pleased expression slowly spreading across his face. “Qianling, I’m truly impressed by Yan Hui’s hearing. He can pick out good jade just by listening. Come, look at these pendants.”

Yue Qianling picked one up and examined it. Compared to the jade pieces she’d seen before, these were entirely different—fine texture, moist luster, translucent and smooth, cool in winter but never icy, gentle in summer without a jarring touch—genuine ancient jade of the highest quality.

“No way! You can really tell just by listening?” Yue Qianling glanced at my ears, a hint of envy in her eyes. “If only I had your ears, I wouldn’t need to write any thesis.”

“If a person lacks virtue, they will never possess fine jade. Even if they forcefully keep it with borrowed eyes, it’s just for show—they can’t appreciate its spirit or benefit from it,” Professor Jiang said sincerely. “Yan Hui combines talent and virtue, with a mind as calm as still water, so he can hear the music of heaven. You and I are restless by nature; of course we can’t hear the jade. Even if you had Yan Hui’s ears, without his tranquil heart, it would still be useless.”

My gaze fell upon an antique bronze mirror on the stall. I picked it up, examining it for a while.

“How much for this bronze mirror?”

“Pay what you think is fair—if it suits you, take it,” the vendor replied amiably.

“I don’t have much money. Is ten yuan enough?” I asked with a smile, testing the waters.

The vendor agreed without hesitation. I handed over the cash and casually passed the mirror to Yue Qianling.

“We came all this way—we can’t leave empty-handed. The craftsmanship is quite fine. Take it as a gift, to make amends for the past. Let’s let bygones be bygones.”

Yue Qianling turned the mirror over and over in her hands. It was ordinary enough, decorated with a landscape—elegant and dignified, but nothing remarkable.

Given my skill at appraising antiques, she doubted I’d buy a bronze mirror on a whim and suspected I’d found a hidden treasure. After a moment’s thought, she hurried over to Professor Jiang and whispered, “Professor, he just bought this and gave it to me. He’s crafty—can you check if it’s the real deal?”

“Obviously it’s a replica. How could it be genuine? Yan Hui’s eye is too sharp for that kind of mistake,” Professor Jiang replied confidently after a glance.

Though I walked ahead, I heard their conversation behind me as clearly as if I stood beside them.

Yue Qianling fiddled with the mirror, pouting and muttering under her breath, “Honestly, giving me a worthless bronze mirror—like I’d care. Waving off old grudges—wishful thinking.”

“Yan Hui gave it to you?” Professor Jiang asked suddenly, smiling.

Yue Qianling nodded, looking unimpressed.

Professor Jiang glanced at the mirror again, a meaningful smile on his lips. “It’s a ‘Rivers and Mountains’ mirror, a Tang-style replica, not worth much. But… well…”

Seeing him hesitate, Yue Qianling couldn’t resist her curiosity. “But what, Professor? Please, just tell me.”

“There are many replicas of this mirror, because the original was a gift from Li Yu, the last ruler of Southern Tang, to his beloved consort, Lady Zhou. It’s survived because Li Yu composed a poem when he gave it as a gift.”

“What poem?”

‘The rivers and mountains are endless,
Yet none surpasses the beauty of the one reflected in this mirror.’