Long Aotian squatted in front of Panjiayuan's secondhand stall, holding half a piece of rusty bronzeware with two fingers, as if he was holding an overnight pizza just dug out of the trash can. The August sun was so poisonous that the asphalt road smelled like sesame paste. The Grave Robbers Alliance limited-edition T-shirt on his back was already stained with sweat. The words "Professional Grave Digging for Twenty Years" printed on it were shining brightly in the sun.
