Counterfeit - The Secret a Madman Cannot Keep

The next day, as soon as the gates to the Regent's Manor opened, Tingxia blew in like a gust of wind.

His face grim, he blew through the front courtyard, past the corridor, and all the way to Chu Jin's study. The moment he pushed the door open, he blurted out, "Fan Qu has committed suicide."

Incense was burning in the room, a kind of extremely precious spice. Tingxia had smelled it many times in Chu Jin's study; it seemed to be called Thousand Mountains Reflecting Snow. At first, he found the fragrance excessively cold and elegant and couldn't understand how Chu Jin had come to like it. But after smelling it more often, he found himself becoming addicted to it, to the point where smelling any other incense would now overwhelm him and make him sneeze nonstop.

Later, Tingxia secretly made inquiries and learned that this Thousand Mountains Reflecting Snow was extracted from the resin of the Snow-Lying Pine on Lueying Mountain on the coldest day of each year. The pine's essence was refined and condensed into incense powder. In all of Great Qin, only ten taels were produced annually.

Extravagant! What a spendthrift!

Tingxia's temper flared up instantly.

The wastrel turned over on the couch and said lazily, "Alright, got it."

Even the calming scent of Thousand Mountains Reflecting Snow couldn't help Tingxia now. He strode over angrily, wishing he could just flip the couch over. "Stop sleeping! Fan Qu is dead, how are we supposed to deal with Li Sheng now?"

"I never planned on taking him down this time anyway." Chu Jin couldn't even be bothered to open his eyes. "I didn't sleep a wink last night. If you have any conscience at all, don't disturb me."

...

Tingxia was incredulous. "I was the one who wore a human-skin mask and was tied up for a day and a night! Heavens know how hard the bed was in that wretched cell Fan Qu chose! Was all my suffering for nothing?"

"I've spoken to your tutor and given you a few days off."

"You're just fobbing me off again!"

This time, Chu Jin didn't even bother to reply, continuing to sleep as if no one else was there.

He slept peacefully, but the more Tingxia thought, the angrier he became, and the more he wanted to disturb that peace. He wracked his brain and finally recalled a matter that could be considered both important and unimportant. "There's news from the Censorate. They say Li Sheng brought someone back these past few days, claiming to the public that it was an honored guest for the hundred-day banquet."

Seeing Chu Jin still unresponsive, he gritted his teeth and added,

"But according to our informant at Li Sheng's side, that honored guest seems to have been interrogated. I don't know if he was tortured or what, but when he left the Censorate, there was a horrifying scar on his neck. Isn't that strange?"

...

Chu Jin finally opened his eyes, staring at him expressionlessly.

Tingxia pressed on, "What kind of scheme do you think Li Sheng is plotting now?"

"What scheme?" Chu Jin said lightly. "It's nothing more than one plan failing, so he's thought of another to deal with me."

Seeing him finally getting serious, Tingxia stood a little straighter and said, "Regardless, the hundred-day banquet is in three days. We need to be careful."

Although Chu Jin had thoroughly established his authority after the Autumn River Ritual incident, with no one daring to gossip behind his back anymore, a tall tree attracts the wind. If Li Sheng were to stir up trouble now, it would surely harm the current situation.

At this thought, Tingxia suddenly remembered something and asked, "Oh, right, have you prepared the gift you're bringing to the Censorate?"

Chu Jin said, "Of course."

"What is it?"

"The 'Spring Banquet' by the Painting Saint, Zhou Xihe."

Unexpectedly, Tingxia gasped and repeated blankly, "'Spring Banquet'? You have the original 'Spring Banquet'?"

Chu Jin raised an eyebrow and retorted, "And why can't I?"

Tingxia looked as if he'd seen a ghost. "Then do you happen to know what the prized treasure of Li Sheng's Censorate is?"

Hearing this, Chu Jin fell into a rare silence for a moment before answering tentatively, "Also 'Spring Banquet'?"

It wasn't his fault for not knowing; he had never been interested in famous antiques and collectibles. Besides, during the time Li Sheng had obtained the painting and was showing it off everywhere, he had been swamped with work, so he had turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to it all.

Tingxia wore a strange expression. "In the end, is yours the fake, or is his?"

For a famous painting, regarded by the great Grand Censor as the treasure of his manor and cherished dearly, to turn out to be a counterfeit would be a massive joke.

Seeing Chu Jin looking thoughtful, Tingxia frowned and asked, "Where did you get your painting?"

Chu Jin gave him a lazy glance and said, "A chance encounter. I picked it up."

"Picked it up?!" Tingxia's voice rose several pitches. "Then yours is almost certainly a fake. A painting by Zhou Xihe isn't that easy to come by."

Even Li Sheng, the current Grand Censor, had to plead for many years before he could buy it for a hefty sum from Zhou Xihe's descendants.

Chu Jin said casually, "Is that so? Mine was delivered right to my door."

Tingxia choked. "Without lifting a finger? Without spending a single coin?"

If Li Sheng were to hear this, he would probably faint from rage.

Chu Jin smiled slightly and nodded. "Correct."

Seeing Tingxia immediately start to wail, he asked in wonder, "Isn't it a counterfeit? Why are you making such a fuss?"

"A painting by Zhou Xihe," Tingxia said indignantly, "is worth a hundred taels of gold, even if it's a counterfeit!"

Chu Jin remained noncommittal, a hint of a gloating smile touching his lips. "In that case, Li Sheng really got the short end of the stick on this deal."

Tingxia frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Gold, silver, jewels, and years of pleading, all in exchange for a counterfeit," Chu Jin laughed. "If he didn't get a raw deal, who did?"

"Huh? You're saying yours is the real one?" Tingxia blurted out. "How is that possible!"

His reaction was vehement, but Chu Jin remained calm and unhurried, giving him a leisurely glance.

"What if I told you," he said, his voice tinged with amusement, "that this painting was given to me by Zhou Xihe himself?"

...

Tingxia's eyes slowly widened.

After a long moment, he stammered, "But the rumors say Zhou Xihe's whereabouts have been unknown for over a decade..."

"His whereabouts were unknown," Chu Jin said. "Because by then, he had already gone mad."

He sat up, rubbing the space between his eyebrows, and regained a sliver of clarity.

"If you hadn't mentioned it today, I would have almost forgotten about this matter."

Back then, he was still a Hostage Prince in Yanling, probably during his second year at Heshan Academy.

One rainy night, a madman covered in mud climbed over the wall into the academy. He surprisingly found his way to the Xuan Study with practiced ease and barged in.

He showed no awareness of being a thief, swaggering about the courtyard and rummaging through things. He startled the Imperial Censor into a panic, which in turn woke Chu Jin.

His first reaction was that a thief had broken into the Xuan Study. Frowning, he came out with a lantern, but it only illuminated a vague, dark silhouette in the curtain of rain.

The person was kneeling in a corner of the courtyard, their shoulders heaving and hands moving ceaselessly. The lantern cast a huge shadow on the wall, which was distorted by the washing rain.

Chu Jin realized he was digging in the earth.

The thought flashed through his mind, and he had already spoken: "Who are you?"

The other person's movements froze. He turned around, revealing a frighteningly pale face from beneath his drenched and messy hair.

He stared at Chu Jin with a look of extreme surprise and asked in return, "Who are you?"

Chu Jin, who had just gotten out of bed and casually thrown on an outer robe, sized him up with crossed arms. "Can't you tell? I live here."

After he said this, the man's eyes changed. First, there was a moment of confusion, then it was submerged by a wave of immense panic. Before Chu Jin could see clearly, these emotions were replaced by a thorough madness.

The madman said, "Nonsense! I'm the one who lives here!"

Chu Jin said, "You? Why do you live here?"

The madman said, "What a joke! I've been living here since the twentieth year of the Yuan era. You weren't even born back then!"

Hearing this, Chu Jin's gaze sharpened. "You are Zhou Xihe?"

He remembered that when he first arrived at the academy, Qi Yu had mentioned that the Xuan Study was formerly the residence of the Painting Saint, Zhou Xihe.

Unexpectedly, upon hearing that name, the madman flew into a frenzy without warning. He collapsed to the ground, his mud- and rain-soaked hands grabbing at his disheveled hair as he screamed madly, "Am I? Am I? Am I?! No, I'm not! I'm not! I'm not!!!"

He cried and laughed, one moment kowtowing ceaselessly in a certain direction, the next dipping his fingers in muddy water to draw something unknown on the wall. Finally, utterly exhausted, he sat on the ground and began to laugh uproariously.

He looked at Chu Jin, pointed to his own stomach, and made a cutting motion. "Back then... that's how that thing was taken out..."

After saying this, the madman stared at his hands and was silent for a long time.

Gradually, he began to tremble, more and more violently. "That person is always looking for this thing... It's too heavy, too heavy, I can't bear it anymore..."

His movements became increasingly wild, and Chu Jin nearly got hurt by him, so he took a few steps back.

The next second, however, the madman suddenly lunged at him, shakily pulling something out from inside his robes while muttering, "Here, this is for you, for you..."

Chu Jin looked closely and saw that it was a scroll. He asked in confusion, "What is this?"

The madman naturally didn't answer his question and started clapping his hands. "For you! It's all yours! I don't want it anymore!"

After speaking, he suddenly fell silent again. A moment later, he broke into loud wails, his sobs mixed with heart-wrenching screams.

"I can't protect it! I can't!!! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, hahahaha, I'm sorry..."

The scene before him was too bizarre. Frowning, Chu Jin cautiously reached out, intending to unroll the scroll and see what it was.

The instant his fingers touched the scroll, the man's crying and laughing stopped abruptly. He looked up, stared fixedly at Chu Jin, and when he spoke again, his voice was unprecedentedly firm.

Suddenly, a clap of thunder echoed across the sky, followed by a ghastly white bolt of lightning that tore through the night, illuminating Zhou Xihe's terribly turbid eyes.

"Bury it," he said. "And don't tell them it was me."

The author has something to say:

Another huge plot thread, hahaha