Restoring cultural relics: Starting with the crying Tang Dynasty figurines

The mirror was empty; she was gone. The little shadows returned, squeezing out from the corner, and began to chatter:

"She's gone?"

"Let's go."

"Where did she go?"

"have no idea…"

"Can the opera still be performed on the stage?"

"Really? My heart is back."

After listening, Su Yuan turned the mirror over and put it back in his pocket. He bent down to pick up the monument, but he couldn't lift it by himself. Qian Weidong snapped out of his daze and stepped forward to help him.

The two men lifted the monument back into the pit and set it up. The monument clicked shut perfectly!

Su Yuan took two steps back, stood looking at the monument for a while, then turned and walked out with Qian Weidong. When they climbed out of the dark passage, the sunlight made Su Yuan squint for a few seconds, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light.

Old Liu was waiting in front of the stage. When he saw them come out, he hurried to greet them.

"Is it fixed?"

Su Yuan nodded: "It's fixed."

Old Liu glanced into the secret passage and didn't ask any more questions.

Su Yuan walked to the front of the stage and looked up. The beams and pillars were in place, the foundation had been grouted, and the stele had been returned!

All that's left is to put on the tiles.

Old Zhang was squatting on the stage, holding a tile in his hand, gesturing with it. Seeing Su Yuan approach, he stood up and asked:

"Master Su, that one down there..."

"Okay, it's alright now..."

After Su Yuan finished speaking, Old Zhang looked at him, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't. In the end, he only said one sentence:

"Shall I start putting the tiles on?"

"Cover it up..."

Old Zhang squatted down and began laying the tiles. He covered each gray tile with mud, one by one. Su Yuan stood below watching for a long time, while Qian Weidong called to him from the side:

"Let's go, it's getting late."

Su Yuan stood there for a while before greeting them and turning to walk towards the bread cart. After a few steps, he looked back at the stage.

Mingfeng Terrace!

After getting on the bus, Su Yuan leaned back in his seat, took out his phone, and, finding the signal weak and circling around several times before finally sending a WeChat message to Zhang Weiyi:

"The stage is repaired."

A few minutes later, Zhang Weiyi replied:

"Understood. There are three more items on the list."

After reading the message, Su Yuan put his phone back in his pocket. He took out the paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and looked at it:

Tang Dynasty female figurine (Su Awu) - now restored!

The murals in Chunyang Hall of Yongle Palace have been restored.

Tang Dynasty Bronze Mirror (Su Family) – To be processed…

A Ming Dynasty opera stage (Xinzhou) – awaiting restoration.

Song Dynasty woodblock print (The Analects) – awaiting restoration…

Spring and Autumn Period Bronze Sword – Awaiting Identification!

He crossed out the fourth item with a pen and wrote "Repaired." After writing that, he folded the paper and put it back in his pocket. The bronze mirror was warm inside his pocket, and those little shadows began to appear again:

"What's the next thing to fix?"

"It looks like a book."

"What book?"

"The Analects..."

"Can the Analects of Confucius become sentient?"

"Really? Anything is possible."

Su Yuan listened to the sounds but didn't look in the mirror. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. The car was bumping quite a bit on the mountain road, but he fell asleep!

In my dream, there was a woman singing an old opera, "The Palace of Eternal Life".

Su Yuan was woken up by the urge to urinate!

He was still dreaming when the car stopped. He dreamt that someone was singing on a stage, and as the singing progressed, the person's face transformed into A-Wu. Qian Weidong was about to pat him when he opened his eyes to find himself leaning back in his seat, drooling…

"arrive."

After Qian Wei finished speaking, Su Yuan wiped his mouth and looked out the window. It was already dark, and the streetlights at the entrance of his workplace were on. He checked his phone; it was 7:40 PM. It had taken him almost four hours to drive back from Xinzhou!

"You go back first..." Su Yuan unbuckled his seatbelt. "I'm in a hurry to put my things down..."

Qian Weidong smiled and nodded, turned off the car but didn't leave, taking out a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. Su Yuan got out of the car carrying his toolbox and walked quickly into the office. The lights in the lobby on the first floor were on, and today's evening newspaper was on a bench.

Su Yuan went upstairs first, put his things on the table, went to the bathroom, and when he came back, the bronze mirror moved a little while he was tidying up, but he ignored it!

He took out the paper and looked at it; there were three items left: a bronze mirror, the Analects of Confucius, and a bronze sword. This bronze mirror belonged to the Su family; it was the one in his pocket. What did "pending processing" mean?

Zhang Weiyi never said that…

The bronze mirror moved again, this time getting a little hot.

Su Yuan turned the mirror upside down, and the little shadows huddled together, noticing that there were a few more today, and began to discuss:

"Master Su is back?"

"They're back, they're back..."

"Is the stage repaired?"

"It's fixed!"

"So what's the next thing to fix?"

"It looks like a book..."

"What book?"

The Analects!

"The Analects..." a voice drawled, "Is that old man still alive?"

"It's still here! I've been waiting for years."

Su Yuan listened to the sounds with a sense of helplessness, then flipped the mirror over, and the sounds disappeared. He sat in the chair, staring at the ceiling for less than five minutes, when the bronze mirror flipped over by itself!

When the mirror faces upwards, the shadows are still there, but one has squeezed to the very front, making it difficult to see clearly; it looks like an old man with a bent back.

"Master Su..."

Su Yuan remained silent.

"Master Su, I have something I'd like you to take a look at!"

Su Yuan perked up and looked at the shadow, asking, "What is that?"

"A book," the shadow said, "is missing a few pages, making it difficult to read."

Upon hearing that it was a book, Su Yuan paused for a moment: "You mean the Analects?"

"No, no..." Shadow hurriedly said, "I am another Song Dynasty edition... the Book of Songs."

Su Yuan's mind was filled with the Song Dynasty woodblock-printed edition of the Analects, which was awaiting restoration; this was the Book of Poetry, and they were not the same!

"How many pages are missing?"

"Four pages, each of the four sections, including the Elegance and Classical Poetry sections, is missing a bit. I got stuck there and have been stuck for many years."

Su Yuan thought for a moment: "Where is the book?"

"In the storeroom... on the innermost shelf, the third shelf, very close to Miss Awu, it's covered in blue cloth."

Su Yuan stood up, picked up his toolbox, and headed towards the warehouse. He reached the door, saw Chen Xiaohe wasn't there, pressed his fingerprint to open it, and went to the innermost shelf, the third shelf near A-Wu. Su Yuan went over to look at A-Wu, and then saw a blue cloth bag not far away, tied with hemp rope!

He took the cloth bag down and placed it on the shelf. Opening the cloth, he saw a book inside. It was a Song Dynasty edition with a butterfly binding, the cover of which was made of cardboard and had a note attached that read "The Book of Songs".

The ink has faded, but it's still visible; the edges are curled, and there are cracks in some places.

Su Yuan turned to the first page. The characters were in regular script and were printed quite neatly, but the ink was not uniform, with some places being darker and others lighter!

He flipped through a few pages and found the gap. The bottom right corner of the third page was missing. The gap had been patched up with white paper, but the patch was poorly done. The paper was too thick, the edges were not aligned, and a bulge had formed.

Turning the page further, the top left corner of page seven is missing and hasn't been replaced; it's just missing there.

The middle line of text on page twelve is missing. Someone has traced it with a brush, making it crooked and messy, like a child's handwriting!

He paused for a moment when he turned to page eighteen…