Chapter 116 – Unmounting the Scroll

The mounting master introduced by Heipi was surnamed Zhou, and his home was located on Changle Street in the western part of the city, which was also part of the old district. The nearby alleys were intricate and complex, with clusters of low-rise residential buildings. The studio was hidden among these residences. Even with the detailed address, Wei Yang still took some effort to find the place.

Though it was called a studio, it was actually a small quadrangle courtyard converted from an old house. From the outside, the decoration was no different from an ordinary home. However, as soon as they pushed open the courtyard gate, a smell mixed with ink and paste wafted over. Several rooms had clearly been renovated, with windows widened and ventilation equipment added. There was also a room resembling a steam chamber, from behind its tightly closed door came a faint chemical smell.

With just a glance, Wei Yang understood the situation. The so-called “mounting” was likely just a side business, while producing and selling counterfeits was the studio’s main operation. The art and calligraphy industry had always been plagued with fakes, and skilled mounting masters inevitably knew the tricks of forgery. Since Heipi had recommended this place, it was certain that Master Zhou’s craftsmanship was exceptional.

A young man with black-framed glasses came to greet them. After sizing up the two, he asked directly, “You’re the ones Liangzi introduced? Did you bring the painting?”

Wei Yang smiled and raised the painting box in his hand. For ordinary customers, there might have been an inspection process, but Heipi’s identity as a member of the Liu Family clearly carried weight. The young man didn’t even bother to check and simply nodded, leading them to a side room.

The side room wasn’t a reception area but a proper workspace. The walls were hung with scrolls, some complete and others in the process of drying with their mounting materials and cores exposed. A more than two-meter-wide workbench stood in the center of the room, covered with a dozen brushes and various dishes and bowls, clearly prepared in advance. Seeing them enter, an elderly man with a white beard approached. His eyes weren’t on the guests but firmly fixed on the box in Wei Yang’s hand. He got straight to the point: “A genuine work of Master Yuanji? And a hidden painting within a painting?”

These two points were clearly the main reasons he had agreed to take on the job. Wei Yang nodded and handed over the box: “Master Zhou, please take a look first.”

The old man didn’t stand on ceremony. He took the box, walked to the workbench, wiped his hands with a clean silk cloth, and carefully lifted out the scroll. He didn’t rush to unroll it but first inspected the roller ends and backing paper before placing the scroll on the table and slowly unrolling it.

When the full scroll was revealed, Master Zhou couldn’t help but exclaim, “It’s a masterpiece from our own school. The technique is excellent!”

He wasn’t praising the painting itself but its mounting. In the mounting world, there were distinct schools—Su, Hu, Yang, and Jing being the four major ones. Wei Yang had previously examined the scroll and could only tell it was an antique-style mounting, unable to distinguish the specific school. However, judging by Master Zhou’s reaction, the mounting of this painting was clearly exceptional.

But after the praise, Master Zhou furrowed his brows. He ran his hands over the painting, carefully examining the seams of the mounting, and asked, “Who said there’s a hidden painting inside?”

Wei Yang didn’t answer directly but instead asked, “What’s wrong? Is there an issue with the painting?”

Master Zhou snorted coldly, “I can’t say if there’s a problem with the painting itself, but this mounting is a genuine Yang-style piece, likely from the late Qing dynasty. I’ve studied mounting all my life, and even thinner pastings than this are rare. How could something else be hidden inside?”

Even with various techniques in the mounting profession, the basic rules remained the same. To hide something within a mount, the painting had to be thickened with several layers to ensure the hidden item wouldn’t interfere with the outer layers. Thus, with just a touch, Master Zhou sensed something was off. The painting was too thin to conceal anything. Bringing such a treasure here, if not a mistake, was almost like a provocation. If he unmounted the painting and found nothing inside, damaging the original in the process, who would be responsible?

Wei Yang clearly understood Master Zhou’s concerns but didn’t respond. Instead, he put on a troubled expression and turned to Zhang Xiuqi, who was standing beside him, “Brother Qi, that thing about the qi you mentioned earlier, is it still there?”

Zhang Xiuqi frowned and said coldly, “Yes, stronger than anything else in this room.”

This statement made Master Zhou pause. What was this talk about qi? Wei Yang, however, smiled, “That’s good. Then we’ll trouble you, Master Zhou.”

“You still want to unmount it?” Master Zhou’s frown deepened, and he seemed on the verge of anger.

Generally, ancient paintings shouldn’t be unmounted unless absolutely necessary, as the process could damage the artwork. Facing such a fine piece, it would be almost sacrilegious.

Wei Yang showed a hint of apology and said sincerely, “This is really important. We just want to see what’s inside. The remounting can be done slowly, and we’ll leave it entirely in your hands.”

There was a deeper meaning in his words. The mounting business had its secrets, and unmounting was a common method for forgery. Since Xuan paper was layered, skilled mounters could split a single sheet into several layers, remount and color them, and sell them as genuine works. This kind of forgery was extremely difficult to detect, and the original owners often remained unaware. This was why Heipi had said the unmounting needed to be done in person—to avoid such shady dealings.

By saying the remounting could be done slowly, Wei Yang was tacitly allowing them to use certain methods, even to create a counterfeit as a form of compensation. Master Zhou, having spent his life immersed in the art world, naturally knew this was a genuine piece, likely a masterpiece that had been hidden away by a collector without ever being publicly displayed. The reward for unmounting it was substantial.

After a moment of contemplation, Master Zhou made up his mind, “Fine, since it’s your property, I’ll treat it as a chance to learn from the masters.”

As part of the Yang-style mounting tradition, being able to unmount such a fine piece was a rare opportunity. Master Zhou stopped hesitating and, together with his son, stood before the workbench to begin processing the scroll.

Unmounting was a delicate task, but with such a meticulously mounted piece, it didn’t take much effort. Master Zhou worked quickly and lightly, using a soft brush to wet the scroll while explaining the process to his son, clearly treating it as a live lesson. Wei Yang and Zhang Xiuqi sat to the side, becoming mere observers, quietly watching Master Zhou’s fluid movements.

After sitting idly for half an hour, Wei Yang suddenly remarked casually, “I wonder what’s hidden inside. Even Master Yuanji’s genuine work is just a cover. Brother Qi, do you really feel that the qi inside is strong?”

“Not strong, but peculiar.” Zhang Xiuqi frowned slightly. His demeanor had changed since earlier; he seemed more focused than Wei Yang. As the unmounting progressed, he felt something shift within the painting, something familiar but he couldn’t quite place it.

“To think we could find something like this. What about the other things? Is there anything with similar qi?” Wei Yang asked again.

“No.” Zhang Xiuqi answered bluntly, his attention entirely elsewhere.

Wei Yang hummed softly, “That’s right. Finding one thing from Elder Lin’s place is already a stroke of luck. Don’t you think so, Brother Qi?”

His voice was so light and his tone so casual, it sounded like idle chatter. Zhang Xiuqi responded absentmindedly, but Wei Yang immediately followed up, “You really do remember what happened at Elder Lin’s place.”

There was something different in his tone this time. A few seconds later, Zhang Xiuqi realized what Wei Yang was referring to, and his straight posture stiffened instantly. Wei Yang, as if noticing nothing, kept his gaze forward and said lightly, “Besides that, the Corpse Puppet and that fox at my place—you remember those too, right? All those ghosts and monsters, you remember them all. You just forgot about me? Or was it after that Heavenly Soul returned that you realized you’d been ‘tricked’ by me…”

The word “tricked” trembled at the end, as if suppressing a mix of resentment and sorrow. Zhang Xiuqi felt a tightness in his chest, but this wasn’t a private setting, and he truly didn’t know how to respond. He could only clench his fists, tightening his posture even more.

While Zhang Xiuqi struggled to escape, Wei Yang’s eyes softened as he watched the Little Celestial Master on the verge of breaking. He didn’t mind playing this game of cat and mouse, this flirtatious dance, but what he wanted wasn’t just a game.

Letting out a soft sigh, Wei Yang’s voice gained a weight, as if he were baring his heart, “But those things were real—so real they almost consumed me. Growing up without parents, hated and feared by others, I’ve lost too much, too much to dare share anything with anyone. When I finally grabbed onto something, I couldn’t let go. Brother Qi, you can take your time to adjust, or think it over slowly, but don’t pretend you don’t know me, don’t just cut me out of your life so decisively, and don’t…”

He paused, searching for the right words, before finally offering a bitter smile, “…don’t avoid me.”

The last three words carried a plea. Zhang Xiuqi pursed his lips, the pressure in his chest almost bursting his heart. But the image of that pale, cold face from his dream kept replaying, freezing the emotions that made him so restless. That person had said there were things he couldn’t bear to lose, but wasn’t it the same for him!

The conflict was so intense it seemed to spill out of him. Wei Yang didn’t get the response he wanted but instead confirmed a suspicion—they were indeed hiding something from him, something so important that even this little Celestial Master, who couldn’t lie, was trying hard to deceive himself.

What could it be?

A chill rose in Wei Yang’s heart. He was about to say something when a sudden exclamation came from the workbench. Master Zhou had picked up something with a small pair of tweezers.

“This isn’t part of the painting. Wait, it looks like some kind of record? Or perhaps… a map?” Master Zhou’s voice grew increasingly strange, clearly not expecting to find something inside the painting, let alone such an odd item.

The tweezers held a small piece of silk, so thin it was almost translucent. Under the light, faint markings could be seen.

Zhang Xiuqi stood up abruptly. The moment he saw the object, he suddenly realized—he had indeed encountered this qi before. It was almost identical to what he had sensed from Sun Yunhe’s manuscript. Could this be what those people were searching for?

On the other side, Wei Yang’s gaze froze. The moment the silk left the table, his chest burned as if something was scorching him. It was the reaction from the Bone Formation!