his family. There was no telling where the Painting of an Autumn Mountain might be—nor if the best parts of the scroll might not have suffered hopeless deterioration. In the course of our talk old Yen-k’o described that mysterious painting so vividly that I was almost convinced I could see it before my eyes. It was not the details that had impressed the master but the indefinable beauty of the picture as a whole. Through the words of Yen-k’o, that beauty had entered into my heart as well as his.
“It happened that about a month after my meeting with Yen-k’o, I had myself to make a journey to the southern provinces, including the county of Jun. When I mentioned this to the old man, he suggested that I go and see if I could not find the Autumn Mountain. ‘If that painting ever comes to light again,’ he said, ‘it will indeed be a great day for the world of art.’
“Needless to say, by this time I also was anxious to see the painting, but my journey was crowded and it soon became clear that I would not find time to visit the house of Mr Chang. Meanwhile, however, I happened to hear a report that the Painting of an Autumn Mountain had come into the hands of a certain nobleman by the name of Wang. Having learned of the painting, Mr Wang had dispatched a messenger with greetings to Chang’s grandson. The latter was said to have sent back with the messenger not only the ancient family documents and the great ceremonial cauldron, which had been in the family for countless generations, but also a painting which fitted the description of Ta Ch’ih’s Autumn Mountain. Delighted with these gifts, Mr Wang had arranged a great banquet for Chang’s grandson, at which he had placed the young man in the seat of honour and regaled him with the choicest delicacies, gay music and lovely girls; in addition he had given him 1,000 pieces of gold.
“On hearing this report, I almost leapt with joy. Despite the vicissitudes of half a century, it seemed that the Painting of an Autumn Mountain was still safe! Not only that, but it
