The old couple stared at each other with wide eyes, but in the end, it was Lou Shaonong who made the decision.
"We’ll use the camphor wood chests at home to store the books and paintings. Wrap the books and paintings in moisture-proof oil paper and silk, then put the camphor wood chests inside sealed larger chests. Between the large and small chests, we’ll add a layer of iron sheeting. Bury them deep, and every year around the time of the Festival for Drying Books, we can take them out to air them and also check whether the books and paintings have been damaged."
Beyond that, there was no other way.
Lin Yufen sighed, "We’ll have to do as you say. While we’re at it, let’s stuff those antiques that are dispensable in our home and the jewelry my mother-in-law left me in there too. Those things won’t fear dampness or insects when buried underground."
Because they cherished their collection of books and paintings too much, they didn’t dare take risks.
Lou Shaonong grunted, "I remember there’s still a bit of gold left, isn’t there?" The little they had managed to save.
"Gold?" Lin Yufen paused, "Wasn’t it in that year of famine, when we couldn’t bear hunger anymore, that we exchanged it for grain on the black market? A gold bar for two catties of cornmeal, it nearly broke my heart, but we had no choice, we needed to survive."
"I remember there was a little left."
Hearing what Lou Shaonong said, Lin Yufen laughed, "Have you forgotten? Your son took the rest away."
Lou Shaonong scratched his head, remembering, "If that’s the case, let’s not mention it."
The old couple then got to work. They closed the doors and selected the books and paintings they thought had cultural value. They packed five camphor wood chests full, carefully wrapping and sealing them, filling the gaps with camphor balls, then buried them beneath the floors of the main and side houses.
They were busy with this for over ten days.
Before they even had time to catch their breath, an old friend came to borrow books.
This old friend, Zheng Peng, was the vice chancellor of Capital University and had been friends with Lou Shaonong for many years. It was he who had invited Lou Shaonong and Lin Yufen to teach at Capital University. The books he came to borrow had just been buried underground by the couple.
"Old Zheng, if you had come a few days earlier!" Lou Shaonong complained, half-sincerely, "The books you wanted to borrow have already been lent to someone else, and I don’t know when they will be returned to me!"
"What? Lent to someone else?" Zheng Peng was surprised.
Lou Shaonong and Lin Yufen were very protective of their books and paintings. They only allowed borrowers to copy and read them in their home and did not permit them to be taken away, for fear of damage that would be difficult to repair.
As his wife, Lin Yufen naturally supported her husband’s statement, nodding and saying, "Yes, they’ve been lent out."
"Who’s got such great influence?"
Lin Yufen thought for a moment and, somehow, her mind went to Xibao. She pursed her lips and smiled, "A particularly endearing child."
With no other choice, Zheng Peng asked, "But there are still copied versions available, right? I remember Lou used to love copying books. I promised my students that I would explain the contents of this book tomorrow; I can’t go back on my word."
"If you had said earlier you only needed the copy for the lecture, that would’ve been fine. I thought you wanted to study the original, so I completely forgot our own house rules." She had indeed spun an unnecessary lie.
After saying this, Lou Shaonong turned and went to the study to fetch the copy and handed it to Zheng Peng, "Here, take it. But let me warn you in advance, even though it’s a copy, and it’s one I made myself, since the original has been lent out, this copy is very precious. Don’t you dare lose it!"
"Don’t worry, don’t worry. I know your temperament well enough!" Zheng Peng replied.