t’ien, bowing his head politely. He stirred the flame in the copper lamp.
“At that time the old master Yüan Tsai was still alive. One evening while he was discussing paintings with Yen-k’o, he asked him whether he had ever seen Ta Ch’ih’s Painting of an Autumn Mountain. As you know, Yen-k’o made a veritable religion of Ta Ch’ih’s paintings and was certainly not likely to have missed any of his works. But he had never set eyes on this Autumn Mountain.
“ ‘No, I haven’t seen it,’ he answered shamefacedly, ‘and I’ve never even heard of its existence.’
“ ‘In that case,’ said Yüan Tsai, ‘please don’t miss the first opportunity you have of seeing it. As a work of art it is on an even higher level than his Summer Mountain or his Wandering Storm. In fact I’m not sure that it isn’t the finest of all Ta Ch’ih’s paintings.’
“ ‘Is it really such a masterpiece? Then I must do my best to see it. May I ask who owns this painting?’
“ ‘It is in the house of Mr Chang in the county of Jun. If you ever have occasion to visit the Chin-shan Temple, you should call on him and see the picture. Allow me to give you a letter of introduction.’
“As soon as Yen-k’o received Yüan Tsai’s letter, he made plans to set out for the county of Jun. A house which harboured so precious a painting as this would, he thought, be bound to have other great works of different periods. Yen-k’o was quite giddy with anticipation as he started out.
“When he reached the county of Jun, however, he was surprised to find that Mr Chang’s house, though imposing in structure, was dilapidated. Ivy was coiled about the walls, and in the garden grass and weeds grew rank. As the old man approached, chickens, ducks and other barnyard fowl looked up, as if surprised to see any stranger enter here. For a moment, he could not help doubting Yüan Tsai’s words and wondering how a masterpiece of Ta Ch’ih could possibly have found its
