more than merited. Compared to this painting, everything I have seen until now seems second-rate.’
“ ‘Really? You find it such a masterpiece?’
“Yen-k’o could not help turning a surprised look at his host.
“ ‘Can you doubt it?’
“ ‘Oh no, it isn’t that I have any doubts,’ said Mr Chang, and he blushed with confusion like a school-boy. Looking almost timidly at the painting, he continued, ‘The fact is that each time I look at this picture I have the feeling that I am dreaming, though my eyes are wide open. I cannot help feeling that it is I alone who see its beauty, which is somehow too intense for this world of ours. What you just said brought back these strange feelings.’
“But Yen-k’o was not much impressed by his host’s evident attempt at self-vindication. His attention was absorbed by the painting, and Mr Chang’s speech seemed to him merely designed to hide a deficiency in critical judgment.
“Soon after, Yen-k’o left the desolate house.
“As the weeks passed, the vivid image of the Autumn Mountain remained fresh in his mind,” continued Wang Shih-ku after accepting another cup of tea. “Now that he had seen Ta Chi’h’s masterpiece, he felt ready to give up anything whatsoever to possess it. Inveterate collector that he was, he knew that not one of the great works that hung in his own house—not even Li Ying-ch’iu’s Painting of the Floating Snow-Flakes, for which he had paid 500 taels of silver—could stand comparison with that transcendent Painting of an Autumn Mountain.
“While still sojourning in the county of Jun, he sent an agent to the Chang house to negotiate the sale of the painting. Despite repeated overtures, he was unable to persuade Mr Chang to enter into any arrangement. On each occasion that pallid gentleman would reply that while he deeply appreciated the master’s admiration of the Autumn Mountain and while he would be quite willing to lend the painting, he must ask to be
