An Autumn Mountain 167
way into such a house. Upon a servant’s answering his knock, he handed over the letter, explaining that he had come from far in the hope of seeing Ta Ch’ih’s Painting of an Autumn Mountain.
“He was led almost immediately into the great hall. Here again, though the divans and tables of red sandalwood stood in perfect order, a mouldy smell hung over everything and an atmosphere of desolation had settled even on the tiles. The owner of the house, who now appeared, was an unhealthy-looking man; he had a pleasant air about him and his pale face and delicate hands bore signs of nobility. Yen-k’o, after briefly introducing himself, lost no time in telling his host how grateful he would be if he might be shown the famous Ta Ch’ih painting. There was an urgency in the master’s words, as if he feared that were he not to see the great painting at once, it might somehow vanish like a mist.
“Mr Chang assented without hesitation and had the picture-scroll hung on the bare wall of the great hall.
“ ‘This,’ he said, ‘is the Autumn Mountain to which you refer.’
“At the first glance Yen-k’o let out a gasp of admiration. The dominant colour was a dark green. From one end to the other a river ran its twisting course; bridges crossed it at various places and along its banks were little hamlets. Dominating it all rose the main peak of the mountain range, before which floated peaceful wisps of autumn cloud. The mountain and its neighbouring hills were fresh green, as if newly washed by rain, and there was an uncanny beauty in the red leaves of the bushes and thickets scattered along their slopes. This was no ordinary painting, but one in which both design and colour had reached an apex of perfection. It was a work of art instinct with the classical sense of beauty.
“ ‘Well, what do you think of it? Does it please you?’ said Mr Chang, peering at Yen-k’o with a smile.
“ ‘Oh, it is truly of godlike quality!’ cried Yen-k’o, while he stared at the picture in awe. ‘Yüan Tsai’s lavish praise was
