was he able to appreciate quality wines and the art of drinking. Firstly, this was congenial for him; secondly, he had a good teacher to give him directions. So as soon the scent of wine hit his nostrils, he praised.

“Wow! I smell the scent of aged High Grade Fen-Wine. Hmm, the Hundred-Grass Wine probably is around seventy-five years old. And that Monkey Wine is even harder to come by.”

As soon as he recognized the aroma of the Monkey Wine, he instantly remembered Lu Dayou, his sixth apprentice brother, and sorrow swelled in his heart.

“Excellent! Excellent! Brother Feng, as soon as you stepped into my wine room, you have already recognized the best three brews in my collection. You are really an expert! Amazing! Amazing indeed!” Mr. Paint clapped his hands with a big smile blossoming on his face.

Linghu Chong glanced around the room. What met his eyes where wine jars, wine bottles, wine calabashes, and wine cups everywhere.

“I really doubt Senior Master’s collection stops at the three great brews I’ve just mentioned. The Shaoxing-Red Wine is definitely first-class, and the Grape-Wine from the Western Region city Turfan,[4] which requires four cycles of distillation and ferments, is second to none in the entire world.”

“My Turfan four cycles of distillation and ferments Grape-Wine is still sealed off in the wooden barrel. How could you have sniffed it out?” Mr. Paint uttered, half shocked and half pleased.

“Come on! With such quality wine, even if you hide it in a cellar twenty feet below ground, the sweet scent would still make it all the way here,” Linghu Chong said with a grin.

“Right on! Let’s drink this four cycles distillation and ferments Grape-Wine, then!” Mr. Paint shouted.

Soon, he took out a big barrel from a corner of the room. The barrel had begun to turn black from its old age and was covered with wriggling Western Region scripts. The wooden stopper was sealed off by sealing wax, which carried the sign of a solemn looking stamp. Mr. Paint held the wooden stopper and gave it a gentle pull. All of a sudden, the room was filled with the scent of great wine. Shi Lingwei was a man who never touched alcohol, and at the strong smell from the wine, he immediately felt tipsy. Mr. Paint waved him off with a grin.

“Go out! Go out! You don’t want to get drunk, do you?”

Placing three wine cups in a row, he picked the barrel up and poured the wine toward the wine cups. The wine’s color was dark red and almost looked like blood. When the cups were full, the top of the liquid was actually slightly higher than the edge of the cup, yet not a drop spilled out.

“This man has extraordinary Kung Fu skills,” Linghu Chong couldn’t help but cheer inwardly. “Holding the over one-hundred pounds big barrel in his arms and pouring wine into the small wine cups, he was still able to fill the cups perfectly to their capacities. That is no easy task.”

“Cheers! Cheers!” Holding the wooden barrel under his right arm, he raised his wine cup with his left hand and stared at Linghu Chong’s face with unblinking eyes, waiting to see his reaction after he tasted the wine.

Linghu Chong raised his own cup and then drank half of its content down his throat, smacking his lips as he tasted the flavor, his eyes closed. But because of the thick layer of powder on his face, the only express on his face was indifference, as though he didn’t quite like the taste. Mr. Paint’s face, on the other hand, had anxiety written all over it, as if he was afraid that this expert in wine-appreciation would only rate his wine mediocre.

After a long while, Linghu Chong finally opened his eyes. “Very strange! Very strange indeed!” he muttered.

“What’s strange about it?” Mr. Paint asked.

“Well, this is so confusing. This is really beyond me,” Linghu Chong answered.

“You are saying…,” Mr. Paint said, his eyes flickering with joy.

“I’ve only had the fortune to taste this wine once before, and that was in the city of Luoyang. Even though the wine was utterly mellow and pure, one could still feel the slight sourness in its flavor. According to a grandmaster in the art of wine, that was because of the bumping and jolting along the transportation route. With the four cycles distillation and ferments Turfan Grape-Wine, the more you move it, the more of the excellence will be impaired. There are many thousands of miles between Turfan and Hangzhou, but Senior Master’s wine doesn’t even have the slightest sourness in its flavor. Well….”

Mr. Paint broke into loud laughter, looking very pleased of himself.

“This is my utmost secret. I had to use three sword moves in exchange for the secret recipe from Moore Watson, the Western Region Swordsman. Do you want to hear it?”

“I am already perfectly satisfied for the chance to enjoy such wonderful wine. I certainly dare not to ask about Senior Master’s secret recipe.” Linghu Chong shook his head.

“Let’s drink! Let’s drink!” Mr. Paint filled the three wine cups once again. Linghu Chong’s no desire for the secret recipe actually made his heart itch more. He couldn’t help but mutter, “Actually the recipe is not worth a dime. It’s amazingly simply, you know.”

Linghu Chong knew that the less he desired to hear the secret, the more Mr. Paint would want to share it. So he shook his hands hurriedly.

“Senior Master, please, please don’t speak the secret out. I can imagine that the three sword moves you gave out must have been no small matter. If I take away your secret recipe, which you had to pay a great price in exchange, so easily, I’ll never feel right about it. It is well said that there’s no receiving a reward without making a merit….”

“Didn’t you drink with me? Didn’t you recognize the origin of the wine? That’s plenty of merit already. You must listen to the secret recipe,” Mr. Paint insisted.

“I feel great gratitude that Senior Master is willing to grant me an audience and bestow on me your most valuable wine collection. How could I…?”

“But I want to tell you. You can listen.”

“This is Fourth Master’s goodwill. Brother Feng, you need not decline,” Xiang Wentian also chimed in.

“Exactly! Exactly!” Mr. Paint concurred. “Let me ask you. Can you tell how old the wine is?” he asked with all smiles.

Linghu Chong drank up his wine and tasted it carefully. After a long while he spoke again.

“There is another thing strange about this wine. It tastes like it’s one hundred and twenty years old, yet it also tastes as though it is only twelve or thirteen years old. There’s old flavor in the recent taste and there’s also new flavor in the old taste. Comparing to normal, over one hundred years old wine, it seems to have a unique essence.”

Xiang Wentian knitted his brows slightly as he thought to himself, “Now he has really made a fool of himself. There’s over one hundred years difference between one hundred and twenty years and twelve or thirteen years. How could they be mentioned in the same breath?”

He was afraid that Mr. Paint would be displeased to hear these words, but quite to the contrary, the old fellow Mr. Paint broke into loud laughter, his long beard fluttering back and forth.

“Good brother! You are as sharp as a razor. That’s exactly where the secret lies. Let me tell you. That Western Region Swordsman, Moore Watson, gave me ten barrels of one hundred and twenty years old Turfan Grape Wine that had gone through three cycles of distillation and ferments and had five fine horses carry them all the way to Hangzhou. And then I went through the fourth cycle of distillation and ferments and brewed one barrel of fine wine using the ten barrels Grape Wine. If we count the days, that was exactly twelve and a half years ago. That’s why the Grape Wine didn’t go sour after such a long journey and why there’s old flavor in the recent taste and new flavor in the old taste.”

“That’s why!” Xiang Wentian and Linghu Chong both put their hands together.

“Even if you were to use ten sword moves in exchange for the secret of making such wonderful wine, it would have been worth it. And you only had to use three moves. What a steal!” Linghu Chong added.

Mr. Paint was even more pleased. “Little brother, you really understand me well. At that time, both Big Brother and Third Brother grumbled about it and complained that by exchanging sword moves for wine brewing technique, I had let the secret of our Central Region unique skills into the Western Region. And even though Second Brother only smiled without saying anything, I bet he didn’t approve it in his mind, either. Only you, little brother, understand that I’ve made a kill in this deal. Lets have a toast for that!”

Seeing that Xiang Wentian obviously didn’t know anything about the art of drinking, he paid no more attention to him.

“Fourth Master, there’s actually another way to enjoy this wine. Too bad we won’t be able to at this moment,” Linghu Chong said after drinking up another cup of wine.

“How? Why can’t we?” Mr. Paint asked anxiously.

“Turfan is the hottest place in the world. I heard that when Great Master Xuan-Zang[5] journeyed to India to retrieve the true Buddhist Scriptures, he went by the Mountain of Blaze, which is exactly where Turfan is located,” Linghu Chong explained.

“Yes. That place is very hot, indeed. In the summertime, even after you immerse yourself in a bucket of cold water, you’d still feel the unbearable heat. And in the wintertime, it’ll freeze you to the bone. But just because of that, the grapes they produce there are out of the ordinary,” Mr. Paint remarked.

“When I tasted this wine in the city of Luoyang, it was still very cold. That grandmaster in the art of drinking brought out a big piece of ice and then set the wine cups on top of the ice. Once the wine was iced, it had a different kind of taste. It is already in the early summer now, that’s why I said we wouldn’t be able to taste it that way,” Linghu Chong said.

“When I was in the Western Region, unfortunately it was in the summertime also. Moore Watson also mentioned about the wonderful taste of Iced Grape Wine. Little brother, that’s easy. All you have to do is to stay in our Plum Manor for another half a year. Then when it is in the winter, we can taste the wine together,” Mr. Paint suggested. After a short pause, he went on, his eyebrows slightly knitted, “But we’ll have to wait for such a long time. What a torment!”

“It’s a pity that there’s no one here in Jiangnan who specializes in ‘Icy Palm’ or ‘Cold-Wind Claw’ the kind of Kung Fu that focuses on the negative principles, or else…,” Xiang Wentian joined in.

“I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” before Xiang Wentian even finished his sentence, Mr. Paint had shouted out cheerfully. Setting the wine barrel down to the floor, he walked out of the room excitedly.

Linghu Chong cast a glance at Xiang Wentian with a stomach full of questions, but Xiang Wentian only grinned back in silence.

Not long after, Mr. Paint had returned, dragging a very tall and very thin, old man in black robe behind him.

“Second Brother, you’ve got to do me a favor this time no matter what,” he pleaded.

Linghu Chong looked at the man. What he saw was a man with delicate features, only that his face looked unnaturally white as though the face of a corpse, which would send a chill down one’s spine at the sight of it. After Mr. Paint introduced him, Linghu Chong learned that the old man was the Second Master of the Plum Manor, Mr. Black-White. His hair looked extremely black while his skin looked extremely white. They were certainly in sharp contrast.

“What favor?” Mr. Black-White asked in a cold tone.

“To demonstrate your Turning-Water-Into-Ice Kung Fu to these two good friends of mine,” Mr. Paint said.

“That’s just an insignificant skill not even worth mentioning. It would only make the true experts laugh,” Mr. Black-White said coldly, rolling his black eyeballs around the white of the eye as he spoke.

“Second Brother, to tell you the truth, this Brother Feng, here, said that if we ice the Turfan Grape Wine, it would have an interesting taste. But where the heck can I find ice in the middle of the summer?” Mr. Paint confessed.

“The wine is already very mellow and savory. There’s no need to ice it,” Mr. Black-White replied.

“Turfan is a place of sweltering heat…,” Linghu Chong explained.

“Totally! Very hot!” Mr. Paint added.

“’Although the grapes produced there are excellent, inevitably, they also carried some of the summer heat,” Linghu Chong went on.

“Totally! That’s of course!” Mr. Paint added again.

“The summer heat was then brewed into the wine. Though after one hundred years, the effect had reduced dramatically, the little bit of bitter is simply inevitable, after all,” Linghu Chong concluded.

“Totally! Totally! If you had not mentioned it, I would have thought that it was because the flame was too high at the time of the distillation. I’ve really blamed that royal cook wrongly,” Mr. Paint said.

“What royal cook?” Linghu Chong asked.

“Well, I was afraid to spoil the ten barrels of great wine with incorrect degree of heating at the time of the distillation, so I made a special trip to the imperial palace in Beijing and grabbed the royal cook to come back with me so he could make the fire and brew the wine for me.” Mr. Paint grinned.

“Making a mountain out of a molehill?” Mr. Black-White shook his head.

“I see,” Xiang Wentian cut in the conversation. “If it were for just ordinary ones, it wouldn’t matter much for them to have the bitterness in their drink. But Second Master and Fourth Master are lofty hermits that retreated to the lakeside of the scenic West Lake, completely different from the rough fellows in the Martial World. Once the wine is iced and rid of the roughness, then it would match perfectly with the status of the two lofty masters. It is just like the gamesmanship in the game of Go.[6] Combating with shear strength would only fall into the ninth grade of gamesmanship while masters in the first or second grade of gamesmanship would seek a contest of spirit and understanding….”

“You know the game of Go?” rolling his queer eyes once again, Mr. Black-White suddenly grabbed at Xiang Wentian’s shoulder and asked eagerly.

“The game of Go is the favorite in my life. Unfortunately my skills are just ordinary. So I traveled all over the country in pursuit of Go manuals. Throughout the past thirty years, I’ve managed to memorize quite a few of the famous games of all ages,” Xiang Wentian replied.

“Which famous games have you memorized?” Mr. Black-White asked excitedly.

“For example: The game Wang Zhi watched when he encountered celestial beings on Mount Decayed Helve,[7] the game Liu Zhongpu played against the Fairy Granny on Mount Li,[8] and the game Wang Jixin heard between the mother and the daughter-in-law fairy foxes[9]….”

Before he even finished, Mr. Black-White had begun shaking his head in disappointment. “Those are only myths. How can they be credible? And how could there be real game manuals from those myth stories?” At that word, he let go of Xiang Wentian’s shoulder.

“Well, at first, I also thought these were just stories made up by busybodies, but twenty-five years ago when I saw the game manual for the game between Liu Zhongpu and the Fairy Granny of Mount Li with my own eyes and realized how pointed and profound each move was, nothing an ordinary person could have made up, that was when I believed whole heartedly that the myth story was real. Is Senior Master also fond of this game?”

Mr. Paint suddenly burst into an uncontrolled laugh, his long beard fluttered about once again.

“Why are you laughing?” Xiang Wentian asked.

“Didn’t you ask my Second Brother if he is fond of the game of Go? Ha-ha-ha! My Second Brother’s name is Mr. Black-White. You tell me if he likes the game or not. They way Second Brother loves the game of Go is just like how I love the art of drinking,” Mr. Paint said in amusement.

“Good heavens! Second Master, please excuse my random talk. That’s like displaying one’s slight skill before an expert,” Xiang Wentian said hurriedly.

“Did you really see the game manual for the game between Liu Zhongpu and the Fairy Granny of Mount Li?” Mr. Black-White asked. “I’ve seen recordings from ancient journals about this story. It said that Liu Zhongpu was the national champion at the time, but he lost miserably to a countryside granny at the foot of Mount Li and spat out several liters of blood from the frustration. That’s why this famous game manual was named the ‘Blood-Spitting Manual.’ Could this ‘Blood-Spitting Manual’ really exist in this world?”

When he first entered the room, his face had looked completely indifferent, but now it was covered with excitement.

“Twenty-Five years ago, I had the chance of reading it in the old residence of a well-known family in Chengdu, Szechwan. Because it was such a stunning battle, even after twenty-five years, I could still remember every single one of the entire one hundred and twelve moves,” Xiang Wentian elaborated.

“There are a total of one hundred and twelve moves? Why don’t you show it to me? Come on, let’s go to my game room to set it up,” Mr. Black-White proposed anxiously.

Mr. Paint stretched his arms out and blocked the way.

“Hold it! Second Brother, if you don’t make ice for me, see if I’ll ever let you leave,” he said as he took out a white china basin filled with clear water.

“Alas, each of the four brothers has his own ‘thing’ to be crazy about. It’s hopeless,” Mr. Black-White sighed.

He stretched out his right hand and inserted his index finger into the water. Only a short moment later, faint traces of white mist began rising from the water surface, and soon, hoar frost began forming along the edges of the basin. Before long, a thin layer of ice appeared at the water surface. The ice grew thicker and thicker and only minutes later, the water inside the basin had all turned into cold ice. Xiang Wentian and Linghu Chong both cheered loudly.

“I heard that the ‘Violent Wind Finger’ Kung Fu had been long lost in the Martial World. Who would have thought that the Second Master…?” Xiang Wentian said.

“This is not the ‘Violent Wind Finger.’ This is called the ‘Profound Heavenly Finger,’ which is a much more advanced Kung Fu in comparison with the truculent ‘Violent Wind Finger’ Kung Fu,” Mr. Paint clarified promptly. Without any delay, he had placed four wine cups on top of the ice as he spoke and filled them with Grape Wine. Shortly afterwards, traces of white mist began rising from the surface of the wine.

“Now!” Linghu Chong said.

Picking up a wine cup, Mr. Paint tossed the wine down, and sure enough, the wine tasted thick and mellow and there was not a trace of bitterness. In addition, a taste of cool and refreshing was also added to the wine and made it even more delicious. He couldn’t help but praise.

“How marvelous! Now I did a great job brewing the wine; Brother Feng did a great job explained it; Second brother did a great job made the ice. Well, what about you? Hmm….” He grinned at Xiang Wentian. “You did a great job stooging alongside.”

Mr. Black-White drank up his wine casually, didn’t even pay any attention to the flavor of it. Grabbing Xiang Wentian’s arm, he pulled.

“Come on! Come on! Show me how Liu Zhongpu’s ‘Blood-Spitting Manual’ looks like.”

Xiang Wentian gave Linghu Chong’s sleeve a gentle pull, and Linghu Chong immediately understood. “I’d like to go take a look, myself.” he said.

“I bet you there’s nothing interesting about it. Why don’t you and I stay here and enjoy our wine?” Mr. Paint suggested.

“We can watch the game and enjoy our wine at the same time,” Linghu Chong replied and began walking following behind Mr. Black-White and Xiang Wentian.

Mr. Paint had no choice but follow them into the game room, holding the big wine barrel under the arm.

The game room was a very spacious room, but other than a stone table and two soft chairs in the middle of the room it was completely empty. The top of the stone table had been carved into a game board with a grid of nineteen vertical and nineteen horizontal lines. On the two ends of the checkerboard sat two baskets, one filled with black game pieces and one with white ones. Apparently having no other articles in the room except the table, the chairs and the game pieces was to minimize distractions for the players.

Xiang Wentian walked to the stone table and then placed one game piece on each of the “star” points on the four corners of the game board. Next, he set a white game piece on the six-three intersection, then a black game piece on the nine-three intersection, a white game piece on the six-five intersection, a black game piece on the nine-five intersection. He went on and on and placed one game piece after another onto the game board, gradually slowing down as he went.

The black side and the white side began a fierce dogfight from the very beginning of the game, and neither side had even one poor move. Mr. Black-White looked at the game board with fixed stares and soon sweat streamed down his forehead.

Linghu Chong found himself baffled by the scene. He had witnessed how Mr. Black-White turned water into ice with his “Profound Heavenly Finger” Kung Fu, which would have required extraordinary inner energy cultivation, but he didn’t even break a sweat; playing Go game was only an unorthodox school,[10] yet he was sweating profusely just watching a game. When one had great concern about something, he would more likely to lose his rational. This man was crazy about the game of Go, and Xiang Wentian most probably had picked this weakness of his intentionally as a breakthrough.

Sure enough, when Mr. Black-White noticed that Xiang Wentian hadn’t put any game piece down a long while after he showed the sixty-sixth move, he turned impatient.

“What about the next move?” he asked.

“That is a key step of the game. Where do you think the next game piece should be at?” Xiang Wentian grinned.

Mr. Black-White pondered upon the question for quite a while and finally muttered, “Well, where do I want to put this one? A Tsuke move would be inappropriate; a Dame move would not be right; a Sagari move wouldn’t make it through; to make two eyes seems impossible.[11] Well…well…well….”

Holding a white game piece with his index finger and middle finger, he rapped on the stone table with it, but after almost half an hour, he was still unable to decide where on the game board to put this game piece. By then Mr. Paint and Linghu Chong had each drank up seventeen or eighteen cups of wine, already.

“Brother Tong, isn’t this the ‘Blood-Spitting Manual?’ Do you really want my Second Brother to spit up blood because of it? Whatever the next step is, why don’t you just tell us what it is straightforward?” noticing that Mr. Black-White’s face began turning livid, Mr. Paint proposed.

“Alright! The sixty-seventh move should be right here,” Xiang Wentian replied as he placed a game piece at the seven-four intersection.

“Splendid!” Mr. Black-White called out as he smacked his thigh with excitement. “To place the game piece there is a brilliant move, indeed.”

“Liu Zhongpu’s this move is, of course, a brilliant move. But it’s only a clever move from a mortal champion. When compared to the divine move from the Mount Li Fairy Granny, it is far inferior,” Xiang Wentian said with a smile.

“What about the divine move from the Mount Li Fairy Granny?” Mr. Black-White inquired eagerly.

“Second Master might as well give it a try,” Xiang Wentian said.

Mr. Black-White pondered upon it deeply but could only conclude that this was destined to be a losing battle, and it would have been impossible to turn the tide. So he shook his head.

“Since it’s a divine move, how can any one of us mortals figure it out? Brother Tong, there’s no need to sell the climax.”

“This move contained wonderful foresight. It really takes an immortal to figure it out,” Xiang Wentian grinned again.

Mr. Black-White was an expert in gamesmanship, thus also became very proficient in reading an opponent’s minds. Since Xiang Wentian wouldn’t just speak out the game manual frankly, which made his heart itchier by the second, he reckoned that Xiang must had something he wanted in return.

“Brother Tong, if you tell me this game manual, I assure you that you won’t be disappointed.”

Linghu Chong thought to himself, “Is it possible that Brother Xiang knew this Second Master’s ‘Profound Heavenly Finger’ Kung Fu can cure my injuries, that’s why he went around in such a big circle for the request?”

“Brother Feng and I have nothing to request of the four Masters of the Manor. Second Master’s words have really put us two down,” Xiang Wentian raised his head and said.

“I beg your pardon for my discreet remark.” Mr. Black-White bowed deeply. Xiang Wentian and Linghu Chong also bowed in return.

“The two of us came to the Plum Manor because we’d like to make a wager with the four Masters,” Xiang Wentian said.

“”Make a wager? What kind of wager?” Mr. Black-White and Mr. Paint asked in unison.

“I want to make a wager that no one in the Plum Manor can beat Brother Feng here in sword arts,” Xiang Wentian answered.

At those words, Mr. Black and Mr. Paint both turned to look at Linghu Chong. Mr. Black-White’s face looked apathetic and with no sign of approval or disapproval. Mr. Paint, on the other hand, broke into a loud laugh.

“What’s the stake then?” Mr. Paint asked.

“If we lose, I’ll give this painting to Fourth Master,” Xiang Wentian replied as he untied the package on his back and opened it, inside which were two scrolls.

Xiang Wentian opened one of the scrolls and a very antiquated painting appeared in front of everyone’s eyes. At the upper right corner of the painting the autograph read, “Traveler in Mount Brook, Painted by Fan Zhongli of the Northern Song.”[12] In the painting, a towering mountain shot up to the sky, steep and magnificent, well illustrated with the thick ink style. Even though Linghu Chong had little knowledge about painting, he could still tell that this scenery painting was an excellent piece of art. The awe-inspiring mountain stood tall and upright. Although it was only a picture on the canvas, one still couldn’t help but feel the admiration soaring in his heart.

“Holy cow!” Mr. Paint cried out. Fixing his eyes upon the painting, he could no longer look away. After a good while he finally spoke again, “This is the authentic work of Fan Kuan in the Northern Song era. Where…where did you get it?”

Xiang Wentian smiled but did not answer. Slowly, he began rolling the painting into a scroll.

“Wait,” Mr. Paint called out.

He reached out and pulled Xiang Wentian’s arm, trying to stop Xiang from rolling the painting. But as soon as his hand touched Xiang’s arm, a stream of soft yet vigorous inner energy shot out of Xiang’s arm and gently pushed his palm away. Xiang Wentian looked as though he had no idea about what had just happened and slowly rolled the painting back into a scroll. Mr. Paint was amazed. When he had pulled Xiang Wentian’s arm just now, he had not really put much strength into the pull, afraid that he might damage the painting. But the inner energy push from Xiang’s arm clearly showed very advanced inner energy cultivation. Moreover, apparently Xiang had not used his inner energy to the full extent. He felt his admiration growing inwardly.

“Old Tong, turned out your Kung Fu is so excellent! It’s probably on par with mine,” he praised.

“Fourth Master must be joking! Aside from the skills in sword arts, the four masters of the Plum Manor are invincible in any other kind of Kung Fu. I, Tong Huajin, am just a nobody. How could I ever be compared to the Fourth Master?” Xiang Wentian replied.

“Why did you say ‘aside from the skills in sword arts’? Are you so sure that my swordsmanship is not up to his?” Mr. Paint pulled a long face.

“Two Masters, what do you think of this work of calligraphy?” Xiang Wentian let out a slight smile and then unrolled the other scroll, which turned out to be a piece of Crazy Grass[13] style calligraphy with extremely cursive scripts.

“Oh, oh, oh!” Mr. Paint cried out in surprise. After the three “oh” he suddenly shouted out at the top of his lungs, “Third Brother! Third Brother! The treasure of your life is here!”

The shout was so loud and explosive that even the walls, the windows and the door jolted while dusts on top of the rafters and beams on the ceiling began falling. Additionally, the shout was so sudden that Linghu Chong was completed astounded.

“What’s the fuss?” a man asked from a distance.

“If you don’t hurry up to take a look, once they put it away, you are gonna regret it for the rest of your life!” Mr. Paint shouted.

“You’ve found another counterfeit calligraphy work, haven’t you?” the man outside replied.

The portiere was raised and a man stepped into the room. This was a short and stout man, the top of his head completely bald without a single hair, which shined profusely under the light as though it had been polished. There was a big brush in his right hand and there were ink marks all over his robe. He walked closer to take a look at the calligraphy work, and suddenly, his eyes became wide open and he began breathing heavily.

“This…this is authentic! It really…really…is the ‘Willful Book’ by Zhang Xu of the Tang Dynasty. It can’t…can’t…can’t be fake!” he muttered, his voice trembling.

The strokes of the Grass Style writing on the paper appeared unrestrained and extensive, as though a Kung Fu master was performing the martial arts of Qing-Gong, leaping up sometimes and bending low some other times, swift in the movement, yet exquisite in the poise.

Out of each ten characters, Linghu Chong could only recognize one at his best. But the many stamps of seals and postscripts at the bottom of the calligraphy book easily convinced him that this calligraphy artwork was no trivial matter.

“This is my third brother Mr. Bald-Brush,” Mr. Paint introduced. “He pic