Some treasures are made of porcelain; others, of principle.
Among all Chinese imperial porcelains, few have stirred the imagination of collectors, scholars and institutions as much as the Chenghua doucai chicken cup. Revered for its delicate form and harmonious palette, this small cup – originally used by the Ming emperor himself – has become a byword for aesthetic perfection.
No more than 14 genuine examples are known today. Four reside in Beijing’s Palace Museum, two to three in Taipei, one in the British Museum and the rest in private hands. In 2014, a single piece sold for HK$281.24 million (around US$36 million) at Sotheby’s, the sale echoing across the global art world like a thunderclap.
Yet, rarer still is something beyond even the chicken cup: a pair of Chenghua doucai porcelain cups known as the Three Months of Autumn. They are, unequivocally, the only pair of their kind left in existence.
As catalogued by the Palace Museum:
Doucai “Three Months of Autumn” Cup, Ming Chenghua period. Height: 3.9 cm; Rim diameter: 6.9 cm; Foot diameter: 2.6 cm. The form features an everted rim, deep body and narrow foot ring. Inside is undecorated; the exterior shows two scenes of floral rocks and fluttering butterflies, painted in underglaze blue and overglaze enamels – red, yellow and the famed chazi purple, a matte hue unique to the Chenghua period. The name refers to the tranquil seasonal imagery, echoing the poetic notion that autumn spans three months.
The doucai technique – literally “contrasting colors” – was pioneered during the Xuande and Chenghua reigns of the Ming dynasty. It involves first outlining the design in cobalt blue underglaze, firing the porcelain and then applying overglaze enamels to bring life to the motifs. The process demanded exceptional precision, and few kilns in history matched the finesse of Chenghua-period works.
Held between fingers, the Three Months of Autumn cups feel as weightless as cicada wings. Press lightly, and one senses the soft contour of the opposite wall. The decoration floats in gentle silence – its butterflies suspended in timeless flight. Experts have called it the summit of Chenghua doucai, the “supreme masterpiece of Chinese porcelain.”
Its value is not measured in gold, but in the confluence of imperial artistry, technical sophistication, and the fragility of history preserved. Nicolas Chow, deputy chairman of Sotheby’s Asia, has spoken of such works not as market items, but as cultural phenomena that transcend economics.
And yet, this peerless pair of cups owes its survival not to a museum, nor a government, but to one man: a quiet, frugal antique dealer named Sun Yingzhou.
Born in 1896 in Hebei Province, Sun arrived in Beijing at age 14 to seek his fortune. He apprenticed in a furniture shop, then joined two respected antique firms – Tongchun Yong and Baoju Zhai – where he learned the arts of appraisal, accounting and, more importantly, discernment. After over a decade of study, he opened his own store, Dunhua Zhai, on Dongsi South Street, specializing in Ming and Qing porcelains.
Though wealthy, Sun remained humble in every aspect of life. His gloves were sewn by his wife from worn socks. His family ate meat only once a week. He adored Hebei bangzi opera but refused to buy proper seats – always opting for the cheapest tickets on the stairs.
A theater manager once asked him, half in jest, why a man of such means wouldn’t buy a better view. Sun replied, with a smile, “As long as I can hear the voice, I’m satisfied.”
Sometime in the 1930s, Sun was offered a pair of Three Months of Autumn cups in exchange for forty gold bars. At the time, that sum could have purchased five grand courtyard houses in the center of Beijing. He did not hesitate. He acquired the cups – and then locked them away. For decades, even his own family never saw them. It wasn’t until the eve of his donation, in 1956, that he placed them on the table in the family’s main hall and quietly let his children view what he had kept hidden for decades.
The story behind the cups is as poetic as their brushwork. Legend has it that Emperor Chenghua, made timid and melancholic by years of palace conflict, found emotional refuge in his senior consort, Lady Wan – his elder by 17 years. She shielded him as both protector and companion. For her, he commissioned these cups at the imperial kilns in Jingdezhen. They were delicate and introspective – an autumn garden captured in porcelain, both intimate and eternal.
Fifty years later, during the reign of the Ming Jiajing emperor, the cups were already considered legendary. They embodied the highest aspirations of Jingdezhen’s imperial kilns – technical perfection united with lyrical sensitivity.
In 1956, Beijing’s then-mayor Peng Zhen, who was asking prominent collectors to support the young republic through cultural donations, personally visited Sun. Sun agreed, again without hesitation. He donated 3,940 relics – 2,700 of them porcelain – including 25 first-tier national treasures. It took the Palace Museum over 45 days to catalogue the collection. Twenty-five trucks were dispatched to transport the trove. It remains one of the most generous private donations in China’s modern history.
Zhang Hongwei, president of the Forbidden City Publishing House, once remarked with emotion that Sun Yingzhou had made the most outstanding contribution in donating porcelain to the Palace Museum.
The Three Months of Autumn cups now rest quietly in the Palace Museum, among its most venerated holdings.
But Sun’s contribution went beyond objects. He was a mentor, too. One of his early apprentices was a young man named Geng Baochang, who later would become one of China’s foremost porcelain scholars. Geng, forever grateful, often repeated the Chinese adage: “A teacher for one day, a father for life.” That phrase, imbued with Confucian reverence, still echoes in the ceramic halls of Beijing.
Sun’s descendants carry on his legacy. His son, Sun Hongqi, became a noted appraiser. His daughter, Sun Wendong, pursued a life in education. His granddaughter, Li Run, now serves in a leadership role within the Computing Power Network Committee of the China Information Association. The Palace Museum is even planning to replicate certain pieces from the Sun Collection to allow students and scholars access to these once-hiddentreasures.
Sun Yingzhou lived a philosophy rare in any age: wealth with restraint, collection for the nation, and legacy without vanity. He saw in porcelain not profit but dignity – a reflection of civilization itself. The Three Months of Autumn cups were not ornaments; they were soul.
In a world now dominated by spectacle, Sun’s life remains a quiet rebuke: no press, no pride, only principle. He recognized something few ever truly grasp: When beauty meets humility, history survives.
He deserves not only to be remembered, but to be revered – as a man who, in the gentle twilight of time, held civilization in his hands and gave it back with grace.
Jeffrey Sze is chairman of Habsburg Asia (partially owned by the Habsburg family) and general partner of both Archduke United Limited Partnership Fund and Asia Empower LPF. He specializes in high-end art transactions and in real-world asset tokenization transactions using blockchain technology. In 2017, he secured a cryptocurrency exchange license in Switzerland.
