Rebirth 93: Break off the engagement at the beginning and marry Bai Fumei

Song Kaiyuan and Old Geng exchanged a knowing glance, weighing the pros and cons of this risky plan. After a moment, they nodded silently, mentally preparing themselves for the impending storm. It seemed this was the only way, they thought; after all, in this critical juncture, there was no other choice. Besides, framing the Japanese gave them a strange sense of satisfaction. Years of historical grievances made this plan seem less reprehensible.

Time ticked by, and an indescribable tension filled the air. Everyone present held their breath, their eyes glued to Zhou Jiqing's every move. Zhou Jiqing, focused and skillful, deftly removed four samples of paint from the painting. His hand was as steady as a rock, each sample taken with utmost care, as if afraid of damaging this work that could potentially change art history.

Zhou Jiqing carefully placed each sample under the microscope, his eyes almost pressed against the eyepiece, deeply engrossed in his observation. His expression shifted between solemnity and thoughtfulness, fueling the unease and speculation of his onlookers. With each refocusing and comparison, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. Everyone knew that this conclusion could change the fate of many, even impacting the nation's honor.

Finally, after a long, suffocating wait, Zhou Jiqing slowly straightened up, a complex light flickering in his eyes. He took a deep breath, as if organizing his thoughts, preparing to announce this potentially world-changing conclusion. Everyone's hearts were in their throats, awaiting this final result.

"Zhou, what's the result?" Smith saw Zhou Jiqing leave his seat, take off his white gloves, and hurriedly went over to ask. His voice carried a hint of tension and anticipation. "Is the paint on Pollock's painting from the 1950s?"

Zhou Jiqing took a deep breath, his brows furrowing slightly, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes. He slowly raised his head, his gaze meeting Smith's expectant eyes.

“Mr. Smith,” his voice was low and heavy, “I’m sorry.” These three words were like a heavy hammer blow, instantly shattering the expectations of everyone present.

Zhou Jiqing continued, "After preliminary observation under a microscope, the oil paint particles are smaller than 8 micrometers, which means they belong to the oil paints of the 1970s."

His tone carried the calmness and objectivity characteristic of a professional, but a hint of regret flashed in his eyes. As he spoke, Zhou Jiqing turned to face the lab table and pointed to the neatly arranged samples on the table.

“I extracted four groups of oil paint from different parts of the painting and observed them under a microscope. The results were exactly the same.”

Zhou Jiqing paused for a moment, letting the information settle in everyone's minds. Then, in an almost sighing tone, he continued, "Given that Pollock died in 1956, and the paint on this painting dates back to the 70s, it can be preliminarily determined that this is a forgery."

At this point, Zhou Jiqing sighed softly, and the atmosphere in the entire art exhibition became slightly heavier. His gaze slowly shifted to the stunning oil painting, a hint of admiration and regret in his eyes.

"It's so realistic, it's unbelievable," he murmured to himself, his voice carrying both the admiration of a professional appraiser and the regret of an art lover.

Zhou Jiqing turned around and faced the shocked Smith and the other people present, adding, "If you want to further confirm the results, you can do other tests later, but I think the results should be the same."

His tone carried a hint of helplessness, telling everyone present that this cruel reality could not be changed.

Upon hearing this, Smith was as if struck by lightning. His eyes widened, his mouth gaped open, and he was speechless for a moment. His body involuntarily took two steps back, as if trying to distance himself from this unacceptable fact.

“What?” he finally managed to utter the word, his voice filled with disbelief and deep shock.

Just then, a hearty laugh broke the heavy atmosphere in the room, "Hahaha!"

Chen Yang's voice, like a sharp sword, pierced the silent air. He jumped up excitedly, his face beaming with the joy of victory, "I won! You three lost! Hahaha!"

His unrestrained laughter echoed through the art exhibition hall, like a resounding slap across the face of Smith and the others, making a loud, resounding crackling sound!

Jason and Yoshida were stunned upon hearing Zhou Jiqing's words. It was a complete shock; their minds went blank. They'd actually lost?

This result was like a heavy blow to their pride, and they had lost to a greenhorn from China? This fact was even more unacceptable to them, leaving them in turmoil and overwhelmed with mixed emotions. This couldn't be possible, absolutely impossible!

Their hearts were screaming in despair, refusing to accept this cruel reality. Jason's face turned deathly pale, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his hands trembled uncontrollably. Yoshida bit his lower lip tightly, a flicker of panic and resentment in his eyes, his deepest pride and confidence rapidly crumbling.

Their gazes fell simultaneously on the painting, searching for a last glimmer of hope, only to see the reflection of their shattered dreams. At that moment, they felt an unprecedented sense of defeat and humiliation; the whole world seemed to be mocking their ignorance and arrogance. This couldn't be possible, absolutely impossible!

"We won, we won!"

"Great! We won!"

"Yes! We beat them!"

Just then, a burst of cheers erupted from the direction of the Chinese delegation, like a surging wave sweeping across the country. Everyone jumped to their feet, propelled by an invisible force, their faces beaming with the joy of victory, their eyes gleaming with pride. They clapped wildly, the applause thunderous and deafening, as if releasing years of pent-up emotions all at once.

Song Kaiyuan and Old Geng also stood up excitedly, their hands clapping until they were red, their applause for Chen Yang unusually forceful, as if slapping those foreign devils across the face. At that moment, boundless pride and emotion welled up in their hearts; in Chen Yang, they saw the future of Chinese culture shining brightly on the world stage.

This was the first major victory for the Chinese delegation in authenticating European artworks, especially oil paintings. Like a lightning bolt piercing through long-standing gloom, it illuminated a new chapter in the history of Chinese art authentication. Every Chinese person present felt the historic significance of this moment; their eyes welled up with tears, their hearts filled with deep love for their motherland and boundless hope for the future. At this moment, any personal grudges they might have had with Chen Yang were forgotten. They were no longer individuals, but had merged into a greater whole, witnessing together the glorious moment of the rise of Chinese culture on the international stage.

Although China holds a certain position in the international art world, this is largely limited to Chinese artworks. Like a phoenix imprisoned in a gilded cage, it can only display its feathers but cannot soar. In the eyes of Europeans, especially the United States and America, countries that pride themselves on being art authorities, Chinese artists are like caged canaries, only able to sing in their own little world.

They believed that without understanding Western art, one was like someone who didn't understand the essence of human civilization, and would never be able to ascend to the temple of art. This arrogant attitude was like an invisible iron curtain, isolating Chinese artists from the outside world.

Although China has cultivated many Western art scholars and experts in recent years, they have been like brave warriors forging a path for China in the jungle of Western art. However, in the eyes of Westerners, these Chinese scholars are like infants who have just learned to crawl. Their achievements are scornfully regarded as child's play, and their efforts are ridiculed as futile.

In the arrogance of the West, the level of Chinese people has been belittled to nothing, and the talents and wisdom of many Chinese people have been covered with a thick layer of dust. This prejudice is like a high wall, keeping Chinese artists outside the highest level of the international art world, forcing them to look up to those Western masters whom they consider unattainable.

But today, Chen Yang is like a lightning bolt piercing the darkness, illuminating the path forward for Chinese artists. He can identify oil paints with the naked eye that even Westerners need instruments to distinguish. This astonishing insight is like a sharp sword, piercing through the self-righteous arrogance of Westerners.

Chen Yang's accurate assessment not only proved the strength of Chinese artists but also delivered a resounding slap to these foreign devils, shattering their arrogance like a bubble. At this moment, the entire Chinese art world cheered, for this was a landmark victory for the Chinese in authenticating Western artworks for the first time.

This victory, like a warm current, flowed through the hearts of every Chinese person present, filling them with immense pride and excitement. This jubilant mood, like the warm spring sun, melted away the long-accumulated sense of loss and inferiority, allowing everyone to see the dawn of hope. How could these Chinese people not rejoice and feel their blood boil with excitement?

"Old Song, Chen Yang is quite something! I never expected him to have this skill!" Old Geng clapped his hands excitedly, his mouth practically agape. His eyes gleamed with surprise and pride.

Old Geng sighed inwardly, marveling at Chen Yang's talent and intuition. He couldn't help but recall his own youth, when he too had passionately devoted himself to art appraisal, never imagining that one day he would witness such an outstanding junior.

"This kid..." Song Kaiyuan looked at Chen Yang's figure in the center of the field, a smile playing on his lips. "I really underestimated him!"