📖 Miscellaneous Ancient Anthology

I. Living in this village, observing the terrain's prominent veins, water hiding mountain shapes, there must be unusual phenomena. After residing here for a long time and inquiring everywhere, I have gained nothing, feeling discouraged. Upon reviewing the Antique Illustrations by predecessors, it is profound and substantial, such a good article, why is it not from my pen? What a regret! II. After living in this village for several months, I still have no findings, instead catching a cold. The farmers here often gather herbs to sell, some sell excellent Dragon Bone, yet for some reason, this Dragon Bone has a blurred imprint, upon closer inspection it resembles text, quite interesting. III. My wife wrote urging me to return home, alas, alas, it is my lack of skill. Once I finish this medicine and feel better, I will set off. The Epigraphy and Antiquities are ultimately not the right path, because obtaining official recognition is the proper course.

To my beloved wife, Ah-Meng: Seeing your words is like meeting you. I have arrived at the new place, not yet settled, temporarily staying at a temple. This journey is long and distant, and upon looking in the mirror, I find myself thinner by three parts, as the saying goes, "gradually losing weight," yet I do not feel hardship, for there is joy amidst the mountains and rivers, not inferior to the luxury of gold pillows and jade. After residing here for several weeks, I observe the local customs are quite fierce. There is also a trend of trafficking goods. Recently, the temple acquired an item, identified as a relic from the Han dynasty, which greatly surprised me. When asked, they said it was left by the villagers. What village could leave behind jade? Alas, what governance could allow this?... Additionally: Is mother's illness improving? Has Ah-Ren been picky with food lately? (The handwriting is smudged, the signature is indistinguishable)

There was an ancient mirror from a former dynasty, three feet square, with a visible crack across its surface, later mended and made whole again. Upon examining its inscription and observing its pattern, it appeared to be an artifact once kept in the palace of Empress Wu perhaps stolen by a palace maid and passed into the hands of the common folk. A certain noble scion from a once-prosperous household, now fallen into decline, guarded this mirror alone, refusing to sell it. A local tyrant caught wind of it and came to seize it for himself. The owner would not yield, and in defiance, shattered the mirror and took his own life. I once saw an old man in the marketplace quietly selling the broken mirror. Upon asking his reason, the old man recounted the tale, saying the former owner had been his friend. Moved with sorrow upon hearing it, I recorded the story here after acquiring the mirror.

A single gilt-inlaid jade hairpin remains its pair lost, whereabouts unknown. It is said to have belonged to a palace woman of the Southern Tang, in the court of the Later Lord Li. When the Southern Tang fell, the palace ladies fled in haste, and treasures scattered far and wide did they not, as the saying goes, "Into the Common Home?" The Later Lord once wrote of "carved balustrades and jade steps" and upon seeing this hairpin, one may well imagine such a scene. It was purchased at the Daxiangguo Temple. Also: I placed the hairpin upon my desk. On a rainy night, reading the poems of the Later Lord, I came upon the line, "The court ladies in spring file forth like swimming fish." I looked up and saw the hairpin resting atop the scroll could it be that one of those ladies once wore it? And then I thought: where now is that vast palace hall? Where now are those fair companions? Unable to resist, I set the scroll aside and stood by the window, listening to the rain for a long while, moved to compose On the Heavy Rains of the Eighteenth Day of the Ninth Month.

The stele bears no name, only an inscription marking the second year of Tianyou, suggesting it dates back to the late Tang Dynasty. Villagers found a couple buried together in a tomb, their names unknown, with no other items besides this solitary stone. A damaged stele holds little worth unless it is from a renowned artist, hence it ends up in the countryside, merely serving as a plaything for children. The remaining inscription speaks of the unresolved love between the couple, wishing to be reunited in the next life. Moved by the sincerity of their emotions, I purchased it from the village. History remembers kings, nobles, and ministers, while the lesser ones are like flowing water, fading into dust how sorrowful it is!

In my youth, I was reckless and wayward, roaming unrestrained through my village. Obsessed with antiquities, I chanced upon rare treasures wealth brought power, and power bred folly. ... ...Now in my twilight years, my obsession has consumed me: wealth squandered, bonds broken, all vanished like morning dew. Reflecting on this wasted life my stubborn folly, my persistent delusions, my entrapment in vanity's cage I find nothing but utter futility. Let no descendant follow my path! ... ...All that remains is to compile these trivial findings mere specks in the grand scheme into this manuscript and bury it with my bones. ...Should some future wretch stumble upon it, let it serve as jest and warning.

Tips for finding and exploring ancient tombs: "During the Spring and Autumn, Warring States, and early Western Han periods, major tombs were typically located at the highest points of mountains or near their summits. In contrast, significant tombs from the mid to late Western Han period tended to be situated on ridges at lower elevations than those from the pre-Qin era. From the Eastern Han to the Wei, Jin, and the Northern and Southern Dynasties, tombs were often dug into the slopes of hills. By the time of the Sui, Tang, and Song dynasties, tombs were generally found at the foothills." Some spend months studying feng shui, tracing dragon veins, and assessing the solidity of the earth. Their movements are as cautious as sentries, as swift as hares. This practice is called "scouting the ground," and those who keep watch are ever vigilant.

In my youth, I heard grave robbers spoke of three taboos: never plunder righteous tombs, never touch commoners' graves, never raid near imperial mausoleums. "Righteous tombs" often held heroic figures men of honor revered by locals, recorded in chronicles. There was a tale of a bandit chief from Wei, nicknamed "the Worm," who violated this code by desecrating such a tomb. He fell from power soon after. At first, I believed it. My elder uncle scoffed: "Truth is, his own gang turned on him they just used the rumor to justify it." Years have passed since that naive belief. Now I reconsider: most outlaws are ruthless by nature. Once they've crossed into theft, would they truly spare treasure for the sake of virtue? Would they even distinguish between noble and wicked? If one in ten such men held such principles, it'd be a marvel. ...In the end, their motives remain unknowable.

Having spent decades in the porcelain trade, I've observed how connoisseurs wield "jargon" like blades those unversed in it inevitably pay inflated prices, ensnared in carefully laid traps. Deception has become the unspoken rule. ...The lexicon of this craft spans the plainly obvious to the deliberately obscure. Simple terms like "foot chip" or "glaze loss" even novices grasp, but what of "startled crack" or "hidden fissure?" Then come the truly arcane: "rebounded glaze," "dragon-scale peel," "thunderburst craquelure" each phrase a nested puzzle, designed to bewilder the uninitiated...