Chapter Ninety-Six: Selling Paintings

Within the city of Kaifeng Prefecture, on Panlou Street

Panlou Street was among the livelier markets of Kaifeng Prefecture, bustling both as a morning market and a ghost market. Each night, the market thrived until the third watch before finally ceasing, only to reopen around the fifth watch. At dawn, lamps were lit for trading various goods—clothing, calligraphy, paintings, floral wreaths, and every manner of item imaginable. Among these, the trade of calligraphy and paintings was predominant, and Panlou Street was the main hub for such commerce in Kaifeng.

On Panlou Street, one could find any kind of calligraphy or painting: masterpieces by ancient and modern masters, works by renowned literati, or even forgeries of various qualities. Wealthier buyers sought authentic pieces, while those with less means purchased imitations, some so skillfully crafted they could easily deceive the eye.

At this moment, daylight had fully arrived. Near the city gate tower, a crowd had gathered, chattering incessantly.

“What kind of calligraphy or painting is this? Does anyone understand it?”

“Who knows what kind of bird painting this is? Fifty guan a piece? That’s far too expensive!”

“My friend, you’re right—might as well just rob someone…”

“Hey, young sir, you have the looks of Pan An himself, yet you sell paintings for a living? Why not sell smiles instead? That way you could at least make a decent living.”

Laughter erupted among the crowd. They surrounded the scene, teasing and jesting.

“What on earth is this supposed to be? It’s a disgrace,” said Li Qingzhao, who had also come that day, giving a sharp push to Li Sanjian, who stood with crossed arms and closed eyes nearby.

“Can’t you see?” Li Sanjian staggered back from the push, lowering his hands and smiling at Li Qingzhao.

“Who knows what this nonsense is?” Li Qingzhao replied, stepping back to put some distance between herself and Li Sanjian.

To the onlookers, Li Sanjian was already perceived as a madman driven to desperation by money.

Li Sanjian planned to take the imperial examination again the following year, but first, he had to ensure his family’s basic needs—only then could he pursue his ambitions without worry. After much contemplation, he decided to make a living by selling paintings, as it was his sole livelihood skill.

However, this time, the paintings he intended to sell differed from his usual fare. On the surface, they appeared as chaotic bursts of color and disorderly brushstrokes, a seemingly jumbled mess. Only by employing a special method could one fully appreciate their essence.

“Oh, so that’s the plan...” Li Sanjian began to explain to Li Qingzhao when a middle-aged man pushed through the crowd and addressed him, “Young sir, could you make your paintings a bit cheaper?”

Li Sanjian’s interest piqued at the inquiry. “How much are you offering, sir?”

“Ten wen per piece.” The middle-aged man replied.

Li Sanjian’s face immediately fell. Ten wen a piece? That wouldn’t even cover the cost.

“Why would you buy these?” asked a curious onlooker.

“I raise some chickens at home and need some fencing,” the man replied.

The crowd burst into even louder laughter, pointing and jeering at Li Sanjian’s paintings.

“San... Sanlang, let’s go back,” Li Qingzhao nudged the sullen Li Sanjian, whose face was as black as a pot bottom.

Li Sanjian shook his head. “I refuse to believe that no one in this vast capital recognizes true talent.”

By now, he no longer expected anyone to truly understand his art. Not only in the capital, but perhaps nowhere in the entire realm would anyone know how to appreciate these paintings. When a genuine buyer appeared, he would then reveal the proper way to view them.

But such opportunities were scarce; his paintings were nearly impossible to sell.

As noon approached, not a single painting had been sold. Li Qingzhao had long since grown impatient and wandered off to join other spectators.

“Shankui, pack up; let’s head home,” Li Sanjian said, glancing at the sun.

Shankui acknowledged with a nod and began gathering the ten paintings to bundle and carry home.

Li Sanjian had hoped to bring “high-end” works to fetch a better price but now realized his miscalculation. He secretly mused that had he painted something more straightforward, perhaps someone would have bought them.

“Wait!” At that moment, a voice from within the crowd called out, stopping Li Sanjian and his group.

Turning his head, Li Sanjian saw a graceful young gentleman step forward from the throng.

The young man was about Li Sanjian’s age, strikingly handsome—more so, even, with a delicate beauty verging on feminine. Slightly shorter and less robust than Li Sanjian, he wore a white knee-length robe, his hair tied with a golden crown. Around his waist was a golden belt adorned with entwined floral patterns, from which hung jade pendants the size of a child’s palm, smooth and lustrous.

“A big fish has arrived!” Li Sanjian’s heart leapt at the sight. The gentleman’s attire alone marked him as someone of extraordinary status. Though dressed in common clothes, it was impossible to tell if he was an official or noble, but his bearing and the presence of several equally distinguished attendants made his rank clear.

If he was so noble, would he truly lack money? People of his stature usually spent money without a second thought.

Li Sanjian’s purpose in selling paintings no one else could understand was exactly for such buyers.

Those of their rank would have long since dismissed ordinary paintings as mundane; only novelty and wonder could capture their interest.

Li Sanjian allowed these thoughts to flash briefly in his mind, then prepared to make his move on this “big catch.”

“Sir, how may I assist you?” Li Sanjian approached with a broad smile, bowing politely.

“I’ll take all your paintings, at the price you asked,” the gentleman said, waving his hand lightly. “However...”

“Your Excellency,” an attendant beside him quickly interjected, “five hundred guan for these chaotic scribbles? They’re not worth that much.”

Five hundred guan was a substantial sum for ordinary folk—enough to accomplish much.

The gentleman glared at his attendant. “It’s only five hundred guan. I can afford it. Step aside. If the goods are good, what does it matter if they’re expensive?”

“Yes, Your Excellency.” The attendant scowled at Li Sanjian with envy before stepping aside.

“Painter,” the gentleman addressed Li Sanjian, “tell me what makes these paintings special. If they truly have merit, sell them to me. I have more than enough money.” He chuckled.

“Your Excellency truly knows quality...” Li Sanjian flattered him shamelessly before continuing, “The sunlight here is far too bright to appreciate the paintings fully. To grasp their wonder, one must view them in semi-darkness. I will be frank—these paintings were taught by immortals. Their marvels cannot be described in words. Should Your Excellency perceive their true beauty, do not be overly shocked, lest you disturb the immortal within.”

Such paintings required focused attention; too much bright light would cause dizziness and blurred vision. Li Sanjian’s fabrication was meant to whet the gentleman’s appetite, making subsequent dealings easier.

“Oh? Taught by immortals?” The gentleman’s interest visibly deepened. “Let us go quickly—to that tavern over there.”

“As you wish, Your Excellency.” Li Sanjian instructed Shankui to carry the paintings as they followed into a street-facing room within the tavern.

“Your Excellency, to view these paintings properly, one must be sincere. The sages say, ‘Sincerity brings spirit.’ Please close your eyes for a moment, focus your mind, and then appreciate the work,” Li Sanjian continued, heightening the gentleman’s curiosity.

He wore an expression of deep mystery, which only fueled the gentleman’s interest. Obediently, the gentleman closed his eyes, then after some time opened them and asked, “Is it ready?”

“Not yet. Wait a little longer,” Li Sanjian replied.

The gentleman shot him a glance before closing his eyes again.

Though fond of art, he had never experienced such a viewing ritual. He was growing weary and nearly drowsy, yet still, nothing.

Curious to see what trick Li Sanjian intended, he patiently followed the instructions despite his impatience.

After a while, Li Sanjian finally said, “Your Excellency, please look.”

Li Sanjian spread one painting on the table and explained how to appreciate it.

The painting was a specially made three-dimensional piece. Its surface appeared as a chaotic mess of colors and shapes, but by using the eye’s perception of light, shadow, clarity, and depth—combined with binocular vision—the viewer could see an astonishing world come to life.

Before the gentleman lay such a painting. Employing stereoscopic vision, he beheld a “Flower-Adorned Lady” scene. Five elegant ladies stood together with a maid, accompanied by a small dog, a white crane, and magnolia blossoms scattered throughout. Li Sanjian had masterfully applied optical principles to make the figures, animals, and flowers appear vividly lifelike—so exquisite it was as if they moved and breathed. The translucent half-revealed silk robes, the delicate hair shading, the soft blush on their faces, the tender skin, and the intricate dress decorations—all were rendered with meticulous skill. The figures seemed alive.

Before the gentleman’s eyes unfolded a fantastical world.

He had never before seen such a marvelous painting and nearly leapt in astonishment.

“Wonderful! Truly wonderful!” he exclaimed repeatedly.

Li Sanjian smiled faintly, covering the painting with a sheet of white paper. “Your Excellency, do not gaze too long, lest you desecrate the immortal maiden.”

Such paintings could not be viewed for long periods; extended exposure would cause dizziness, blurred vision, and even nausea—a regrettable outcome.

The gentleman glared at the paper covering the painting and said, “This work is indeed extraordinary. Bring the money at once. Wrap it up and deliver it to my residence immediately.”

To acquire such a celestial masterpiece for five hundred guan was a tremendous bargain, he thought.

“Your Excellency’s noble countenance and dignified bearing mark you as a person of taste. Such a humble work hardly merits your eyes. I have other paintings as well. Please allow me to present them,” Li Sanjian said with a smile.

He had painted several even more marvelous pieces. First, he lavished praise on the gentleman, then produced these works. With such flattery, would the gentleman dare bargain? Would he demand a lower price?

If Li Sanjian knew that this very man had once paid tens of thousands for a single painting, what would he think then?