Courtyard House: I fish in the heavens, a professional bird abuser.

Yan Jiecheng panicked and instinctively tried to move closer to He Yuanchao, cursing inwardly: "Oh no! Oh no! We've been exposed! Who is this hothead who's causing trouble? Brother Yuanchao's money... is probably going to fly away!"

Lou Xiao'e's heart leaped into her throat. Looking at He Yuanchao, who was being condemned by everyone and isolated in front of the broken bench, a strong sense of worry and an urge to defend him welled up in her heart.

But looking at the surging, uninformed crowd around her, she felt a sense of powerlessness.

The old man trembled with rage, his face turning from red to white, then from white to green! He had lived a life of integrity, dedicated to scholarship, and had countless students; how could he have ever suffered such slander?! Especially not the desecration of the calligraphy art he cherished as his life!

"Shut up! You...you insolent brats! How dare you insult civilization like this! You desecrate divine artifacts!!"

The old man suddenly straightened his hunched back, slamming his well-worn boxwood cane heavily onto the ground with a thud.

With a muffled thud, an aura of imposing grandeur, like a deep pool or a towering mountain, suddenly erupted from his small body!

He was no longer an old man desperately seeking to buy calligraphy and paintings, but rather a lion that had been thoroughly enraged! An aura of authority befitting a true academic giant instantly overwhelmed the surrounding clamor!

"You can't talk to a frog in a well about the sea! You can't talk to a summer insect about ice!"

The old man's beard and hair stood on end, his eyes flashing like lightning as he scanned the loudest shouters. His voice was like shattering ice, carrying a power that pierced the soul:

"You are all illiterate and ignorant, only knowing the stench of money. How could you possibly understand the true essence of calligraphy or the treasures of art? This masterpiece embodies the legacy of the Sage of Calligraphy and leads directly to the Great Way! How could your worth, mere mortals, possibly measure it with a few pigs or a few dilapidated houses?! It's utterly ridiculous!"

His gaze finally settled on the face of the burly man who had jumped out first, like two cold, sharp swords:

"You're saying I'm a swindler? A fraud?!"

The old man laughed in extreme anger, a laugh filled with both sorrow and arrogance.

Without another word, he suddenly reached into the inner pocket of the faded Zhongshan suit in his robes!

This time, he didn't pull out a money pouch.

Instead, it was a small, meticulously sewn document sleeve made of dark brown, oily sheepskin! At the very center of the sleeve was a clearly raised, solemn relief of the national emblem!

The moment they saw the cover, the expressions of several well-dressed people on the periphery of the crowd, who looked like officials, changed instantly!

The old man's thin but steady fingers, carrying a solemn and dignified strength, snapped.

With a snap, the envelope was opened!

Inside was a work ID card, also made of thick, stiff cardboard.

The deep red cover and the gold lettering gleamed in the sunlight!

The elderly man held his work ID card high, making sure the contents on the front were clearly visible to everyone!

Above the work permit is the same solemn national emblem.

Below the national emblem are two lines of solemn and eye-catching gold-embossed characters:

Tsinghua University

Bungakuin

Below the national emblem and the school name, there is a black-and-white ID photo of an elderly man wearing a similarly faded Zhongshan suit, with a serious expression.

Next to the photo were several lines of clear printed text:

Name: Shen Molin

Position: Professor, Doctoral Supervisor

Work Unit: Institute of Classical Literature, School of Humanities, Tsinghua and Peking Universities

In the lower right corner of the work permit, a clear and unmistakable steel stamp with anti-counterfeiting features—"Personnel Department of Tsinghua and Peking Universities"—is branded into the eyes of everyone who tries to see it clearly!

"Look carefully!!"

Professor Shen Molin's voice, like a resounding bell, carried an undeniable authority and righteous spirit, echoing throughout the hall:

"I am Shen Molin, a professor at the School of Arts and Letters, Tsinghua and Peking Universities!"

Recipient of the National Special-Grade Professor Allowance!

Enjoy a lifetime special allowance from the State Council!

He has dedicated over forty years to the study of classical literature and calligraphy theory! His students are found throughout academia!

His gaze, like a tangible searchlight, swept over the burly man, whose face had turned ashen and whose legs were trembling, and over the crowd that had just been shouting "Liar!" and "Call the police!"

"You ignorant brats! If you still have even the slightest doubt or question my identity, are you some kind of charlatan or despicable scoundrel?!"

Now! Immediately! Right now! Go to Tsinghua or Peking University!

Go to the School of Humanities! Go to the guardhouse! Ask around in any office! See if this old man, Shen Molin, has taught there his whole life!

Am I qualified to judge this calligraphy?

Would they risk their reputation and conspire with others to commit fraud for a mere few hundred dollars?!

Professor Shen's words were like thunderclaps from the heavens, one after another, silencing the entire Qianmen Street!

Tsinghua... Peking University?!

professor?!

It's a national top-tier item?!

Receiving a State Council allowance?!

These words, like a heavy hammer with immense force, slammed down on the top of everyone's head!

In this era where knowledge is highly revered, universities are considered sacred halls, and professors are revered as untold figures, the names of Tsinghua and Peking Universities are a golden, weighty, and unquestionable brand!

It is a symbol of the nation's highest institution of learning!

It is a sacred place that countless people look up to but can never reach!

And this elderly man in front of me, wearing a patched Zhongshan suit, who had just been begging for a calligraphy piece with all his savings, is actually a professor from Tsinghua or Peking University?!

Or is he a top scholar enjoying the highest level of national subsidies?!

The shock of such a huge change in social status is a hundred times, a thousand times, more powerful than the impact of the four hundred yuan!

"My God...a professor from Tsinghua University?"

"Shen Molin... I... I think I've seen that name in the newspaper! He's a master of Chinese classical studies!"

"The national emblem... the seal... Oh my god! It's real! It's absolutely real!"

"Who just called me a liar? Step forward! Kneel down and apologize to Professor Shen!"

"I knew it! Those characters looked extraordinary! Professor Shen said they were good, so they must be priceless!"

"Where's that big guy? Come out here! Apologize to Professor Shen and this young comrade!"

The crowd erupted in uproar! The tide had turned completely! The doubts, insults, and mockery of moments before had instantly transformed into boundless awe, fear, and... fervor!

The burly man who had jumped out and yelled "liar" was now ashen-faced, trembling uncontrollably, with large beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.

He dared not look into Professor Shen's sharp, knife-like gaze, nor could he bear to look at the angry stares around him that seemed to want to tear him apart.

Taking advantage of the chaos, I sheepishly shrank back into the crowd, wishing I could disappear into a crack in the ground!

"Professor Shen! It's Professor Shen!"

On the outskirts of the crowd, a bespectacled man who looked like an official shouted excitedly.

"I saw you at the city's cultural work conference! You gave us a lecture! It really was you!"

His confirmation, like the final hammer blow, definitively established Shen Molin's identity!

boom!

The crowd erupted in cheers!

Their gazes toward Shen Molin were filled with awe and reverence!

The look in his eyes as he gazed at the half of the "Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion" on the bench turned into one of intense fervor and greed!

A priceless treasure personally certified by Shen Molin, a professor at Tsinghua and Peking University and a master of Chinese studies!

It rivals the masterpieces of Wang Xizhi, the Sage of Calligraphy! How much is this worth?!

Yan Jiecheng was completely petrified, his mouth agape, wide enough to fit his fist, and only one thought was frantically flashing through his mind:

My goodness! No kidding! It's true!

Brother Yuanchao's handwriting...did it really shock the old professors from Tsinghua and Peking Universities?!

Are you suggesting we expect people to go bankrupt to buy this?!

He felt that his worldview had been completely overturned!

Looking at He Yuanchao's back, it wasn't the look of looking at a "God of Wealth" anymore; it was practically looking at a "God of Literature descending to earth"!

Lou Xiao'e covered her mouth, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest!

Shen Molin, a professor at Tsinghua and Peking Universities!

She had heard of that name!

That was a true national treasure-level master of Chinese studies!

Even her father, Lou Zhenhua, spoke of her with utmost reverence! Such a person, actually…

To be so excited, almost humbly, pleading for a piece of calligraphy from He Yuanchao?!

The way she looked at He Yuanchao had completely changed.

Shock, admiration, curiosity, and a hint of...respect that she herself was unaware of.

Father was right, this really is a hidden dragon! A true prodigy!

Her previous doubts and reserve were shattered under the halo of Shen Molin, this academic giant!

Professor Shen looked at the crowd whose attitude had instantly changed to one of utmost respect, a hint of weariness flashing in his eyes, but more so a sense of helplessness and sorrow towards the world.

He ignored the clamor and turned his gaze back to He Yuanchao, his longing becoming incredibly pure.

He picked up the thick wad of money again and solemnly handed it to He Yuanchao, his voice trembling slightly: "Young friend... I was presumptuous just now and have disturbed you."

This was all of Mr. Shen's savings, 387 yuan and 64 cents.

I earnestly hope... I earnestly hope my young friend will grant my request! Please part with this painting, the "Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion," and let it be mine!

His demeanor was more humble and more resolute than before.

All eyes were once again focused on He Yuanchao.

Yan Jiecheng's palms were sweating with nervousness, and he was screaming in his heart: "Take it! Brother Yuanchao! Take it quickly! Four hundred yuan! Enough to marry ten wives!"

Lou Xiao'e also held her breath, her beautiful eyes fixed on He Yuanchao.

Under the watchful eyes of countless people, some expectant, some envious, and some greedy, He Yuanchao finally made his move.

He did not take the heavy stack of tempting banknotes.

He first bowed slightly, performing a standard junior's greeting to Shen Molin, his tone sincere and calm:

"Professor Shen, you flatter me. I, He Yuanchao, am already extremely fortunate to have the opportunity to meet you and receive your teachings."

"Sir, you just spoke up for me and cleared my name. I am deeply grateful."

Shen Molin was stunned, his hand holding the money stopped in mid-air.

After He Yuanchao finished speaking, he stopped looking at the stack of money.

Instead, he turned around and carefully, as if handling a fragile, priceless treasure, began to tidy up the half of the "Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion" with its ink just beginning to dry on the bench.

He moved gently and attentively, carefully rolling up the unused Xuan paper and putting it into a kraft paper bag.

Then he picked up the stone inkstone and pine soot ink, gently wiped them clean with a cloth, and put them away.

Finally, his hands landed on the half of the "Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion".

He didn't roll it up immediately, but instead gazed calmly at the flowing lines on the paper for a moment.

My fingertips lightly brushed over the characters "gentle breeze and pleasant weather" and "winding stream with flowing wine cups," as if communicating with some invisible rhythm.

Then, with the gentlest and steadyest movements,

This piece embodies the spirit of masterful calligraphy.

The half-roll of calligraphy, which had attracted renowned scholars of traditional Chinese learning to part with all their knowledge, slowly, very slowly rolled up along the grain of the Xuan paper.

After rolling it up, he didn't tie it with any rope. He just held the middle of the scroll gently, as if he were holding the hilt of a peerless sword.

After doing all this, He Yuanchao turned around again to face Shen Molin, who was still holding the money and whose eyes were full of confusion and tension.

Under the almost suffocating gaze of everyone,

He Yuanchao held the scroll of Xuan paper in both hands as if it were a sacred offering, and solemnly and slowly handed it to Shen Molin.

His face showed no trace of the pain of losing a "huge sum of money," only an almost serene composure and heartfelt respect.

"Professor Shen."

He Yuanchao's voice was clear and calm, reaching everyone's ears distinctly.

"A fine sword is given to a hero, and rouge is given to a beautiful woman."

This calligraphy, to have received such appreciation from you, sir, and to be regarded as a kindred spirit, is already its best destiny, and a great honor for me.

He paused slightly, then met Shen Molin's gaze honestly, which was filled with shock, astonishment, and then overwhelming joy and emotion.

"This item is a gift for you, sir."

How can one talk about parting with something? It is its good fortune to have met such a true connoisseur, appreciator, and lover as Mr. [Name].

The boy... felt only relief.

"Given...given to me?!"

Shen Molin was struck dumb, his hands holding the money trembled violently, and he could barely hold onto the thick wad of banknotes.

He had lived for over seventy years, weathered countless storms, and prided himself on having a heart as still as water, but at this moment…

The immense surprise and unbelievable shock instantly brought tears to his eyes!

"This...this is unacceptable! Absolutely not!"

Shen Molin shook his head violently, eagerly trying to push the money forward.

"Young friend! This is a divine item! Priceless! How can I accept such a generous gift for nothing? This money... you must accept this money! Otherwise, how can I live with myself? It's against all reason!"

He was so excited that he was incoherent and almost burst into tears.

He was a man of high moral character throughout his life and never imagined taking such a huge advantage of others!

Especially since it is such a precious and priceless treasure!

The onlookers were completely dumbfounded!

My brain can't keep up at all!

A gift...a present?!

A priceless calligraphy masterpiece, an invaluable treasure that professors from Tsinghua and Peking Universities would give anything for, was bought by this young worker…

Just like that... you gave it away?!

Don't you want the four hundred yuan anymore?!

Yan Jiecheng felt a sudden darkness before his eyes and almost collapsed to the ground!

Four hundred yuan! My goodness! My dear brother!

You...you just gave it away like that?! He felt his heart bleeding!

It hurt more than cutting off his own flesh! He wished he could rush up and snatch the money back for He Yuanchao!

Lou Xiao'e covered her mouth, her beautiful eyes sparkling with excitement, her heart surging with overwhelming emotions!

She watched as He Yuanchao, upright as a pine tree, remained unmoved by the temptation of a huge sum of money, and instead generously gifted her priceless calligraphy.

I felt an indescribable shock that struck the depths of my soul!

They regard money as dirt! They value loyalty and friendship more than wealth!

This is the true spirit of a distinguished scholar!

This is the true... hidden dragon's potential!

Her father's words echoed in her ears once again!

The look in her eyes when she looked at He Yuanchao was filled with shock and admiration, but also with a quietly growing affection that, like a pebble thrown into a clear pond, created ripples that could never be calmed.