A race against time
Looking ahead, Kuang says he holds two primary hopes for these "drifting history" paintings.
First, a museum in Guangdong, the province where these paintings were created, will acquire the works as a complete set.
Over the past two decades, the Guangzhou Museum has collected some items, including overseas donations, but mostly minor works, according to Kuang.
His second hope lies in technology: he envisions the paintings being used as prototypes for AI-driven digital reconstructions.
"To build a digital museum, you need models and prototypes. If you store these materials properly, AI could help reconstruct scenes of the Thirteen Hongs, Pearl River life and coastal defense facilities — that would be invaluable," he says.
Underlying both hopes lies a deep-seated urgency, a race against time.
That urgency is partly physical, Kuang notes. Time has not been kind to China trade paintings: many now suffer from aging materials, fading pigments and environmental damage — problems requiring careful conservation, not quick cosmetic fixes.
Kuang says he hopes China can accelerate its restoration capacity, with more funding and technical support, more trained conservators, international collaboration and clearer standards — so these fragile works can survive long enough to be studied, exhibited and passed on.
"What happens after we're gone?" he asks.
"They will go back into the market, auctioned again and again. If the buyer understands, fine; if not, they might treat a Northern Song painting as a Qing or Republican period (1912-49) imitation — that would be tragic."
For now, Kuang is holding "drifting history" in place. He hopes the drifting will end — that the paintings will find a stable home and a future beyond the market.
