Zhuang Rui, a bit impatient and even rough, pushed the letters and notes in the box aside, revealing the bottom where two scrolls, each about fifty centimeters long, were lying. Without a close look, he eagerly took out the scrolls, though he was still careful with his movements. At this moment, these two scrolls were undoubtedly the most important things in his mind.
You should know that ever since the spiritual energy appeared in his eyes, Zhuang Rui had been tirelessly seeking ways to increase its amount. After two instances of consumption, the spiritual energy had become very thin, and there was no way to replenish it. Although he could now control whether to release the spiritual energy, in recent days when interacting with people, his gaze would wander and shift, afraid of accidentally releasing the spiritual energy. If the spiritual energy in his eyes were truly exhausted, he would be at a loss for tears.
It had been a long time since he felt this way. As he held the two scrolls in his hands, even though Zhuang Rui didn't know whether they were paintings or calligraphy scrolls, he could feel his heart pounding 'thump-thump,' like it might leap out of his throat.
Without even bothering to wipe the dust off the scroll, Zhuang Rui carefully placed it on his bed, then walked to the bathroom and splashed cold tap water on his face before finally calming down.
Back in his room, Zhuang Rui didn't open the scroll. Instead, he sat on the bed, placed the scroll on his lap, and focused his gaze on it. A flash of green light shot from his eyes as spiritual energy surged out and landed on the scroll—but the result disappointed him. The amount of spiritual energy returning to his eyes hadn't increased at all. This experiment felt exactly like his earlier attempts at seeing through ordinary books; he could only penetrate the scroll to see the objects beneath it.
"What's going wrong？"
Zhuang Rui felt a bit disappointed, but he could accept this outcome. After all, the amount of spiritual energy in his eyes had indeed increased earlier. What he needed now was to find the right way to grow the spiritual energy in his eyes—he hadn't expected to be able to absorb energy from these two scrolls repeatedly.
Zhuang Rui got up and fetched a clean towel, wiped the dust off both scrolls, then opened them and spread them flat on his bed.
After unrolling the scrolls, Zhuang Rui discovered they were two calligraphy pieces. One read: "How do you know the phoenix is not like me," and the other: "Eat clams and ask not of heaven." The inscription read "Dafang," and below the inscription there was a red seal with four characters: Dafang's Explanation.
The calligraphy was vigorous and fresh, bold and unrestrained, with a touch of spontaneity. Though Zhuang Rui didn't know much about calligraphy, he could tell the author had deep skill. The paper had yellowed slightly, the wooden scroll ends were a bit faded, and since this was his grandfather's collection, it had to be at least from before the founding of the nation.
Zhuang Rui had never heard of this person named Dafang before. But figuring out Dafang's background wouldn't be too hard—since he didn't know, he could just ask Uncle De.
After thinking about this, Zhuang Rui immediately picked up the phone and called Uncle De. When the call connected, Uncle De's hearty voice came through： "Is that Xiao Zhuang? Back home? I was just about to call you in a few days. How's your health? Doing well? ..."
Zhuang Rui couldn't help but blush a little—he hadn't even thought to call and report his safe arrival home, only reaching out when he needed something. He quickly said, "Uncle De, I'm fine, nothing wrong with my health. After the New Year, I'll try to get back to work soon. I'm calling just to put your mind at ease."
"Good to hear nothing's wrong. Don't rush back to work—rest at home for a while. I've got everything arranged at the pawn shop, no worries. Say happy New Year to your mother for me. I'll hang up now—a bunch of my apprentices are here to pay respects..."
It was a bit noisy on Uncle De's end. He was a well-known figure in Zhonghai's antique circles, with a large crowd of disciples and followers, so his home was always bustling during the New Year.
"Uncle De, I actually do have something to ask you..." These two calligraphy pieces were very important to Zhuang Rui, so he didn't bother with formalities.
"Oh？ Then hold on, let me step out to take this call..."
Uncle De was a bit surprised—the kid had never shown interest in what he knew, and in the whole year they'd been together, he'd never heard him use the word 'ask'.
"Uncle De, here's the thing: my old family house is about to be demolished. I went to clear out my grandfather's belongings and found two calligraphy pieces. They read: 'How know the phoenix is not like me? Let's eat clams and stop questioning heaven.' The signature is 'Dafang.' You know, I'm seven orifices with six open—meaning I know absolutely nothing. So I can't help but turn to you, esteemed elder..."
Zhuang Rui then reported the dimensions of the two pieces to Uncle De, feeling quite anxious inside, worried that even Uncle De might not know the origin of these calligraphy works.
After hearing what Zhuang Rui said, Uncle De burst into laughter and said, "You good-for-nothing kid, you refused to learn anything from me before, and now you realize that having more knowledge doesn't hurt, right..."
Zhuang Rui naturally kept apologizing and promised that from now on he would learn more from Uncle De, only then did he figure out the identity and background of this Fang person.
Fang also known as Fang Dishan, was born in 1873, originally named Fang Erqian, styled Dishan, from Jiangdu, Jiangsu Province （present-day Yangzhou City）, born into a scholarly family （his father Fang Peisen was a juren in the Dingmao year of the Tongzhi era of the Qing Dynasty, having long held the position of instructor in the locality）. He excelled in calligraphy and couplets, and was a renowned scholar, calligrapher, and couplet master of the late Qing and early Republic.
Fang Dishan was intelligent and talented from a young age, skilled in calligraphy, and well versed in epigraphy, painting, and rare books editions. His calligraphy was firm and upright, with a rustic air, pretending to be wild and unrestrained; he was frivolous and humorous in character, careless about appearance. He won the xiucai title at the age of 13, later taught at the Beiyang Military Academy, and became sworn brothers and in-laws with Yuan Kewen, the second son of Yuan Shikai, and became a cross-generational friend with the then-unknown painter Zhang Daqian.
Fang Dishan was good at composing couplets, especially skilled at embedded-name couplets and humorous couplets, carrying on the legacy of Xie Jin of the Ming Dynasty and Ji Yun of the Qing Dynasty, with a focus on wit and cleverness. The embedded-name couplets he composed for others were all impromptu, never drafted, naturally formed, with exquisite wordplay, often blending allusions seamlessly without any traces of chisel marks, which was considered unique and earned him the title of 'Couplet Sage' of the Republic era.
"Uncle De, does our pawnshop have any works by Fang Dishan？"
After hearing Uncle De's introduction, Zhuang Rui realized that Fang Dishan was also a master in the field of modern calligraphy. However, what he wanted now was to find another work by Fang Dishan to see if he could absorb some spiritual energy from it.
“Our pawnshop doesn’t have any, but…”
Uncle De paused for a moment, then continued： “Fang Dishan’s works that have been passed down are quite numerous. Some collectors in Zhonghai do have them. You little rascal, you’re asking about the price, right? Since many of his works have been passed down, the price isn’t very high. Your two pieces are a couplet, worth between eight thousand and fifteen thousand. These are things left by your elders; you should keep them. If you’re short on money, just tell Uncle De, and I can lend you some.”
Seeing that Uncle De had misunderstood him, Zhuang Rui quickly said, “Uncle De, that’s not what I meant. I just saw the things left by my elders and became interested in Fang Dishan as a person. I’d also like to know what other works he has. When I get back to Zhonghai, I’d trouble you to introduce me to someone who collects his works.”
Since this couplet could no longer absorb spiritual energy, Zhuang Rui wanted to see if he could absorb spiritual energy from Fang Dishan’s other works.
“No problem. When the time comes, bring that couplet, and I’ll take you to meet some fellow collectors for an exchange.”
Uncle De was very pleased to hear Zhuang Rui’s words. In the antique world, character is the top priority. Zhuang Rui was honest and sincere, and Uncle De had a very good impression of him. He had always wanted to bring him into the field but hadn’t succeeded. Now that Zhuang Rui was coming to him on his own, Uncle De couldn’t have asked for more.