In front of the night market stall, Su Mu held the blood letter that his father had given him before his execution, his knuckles turning white.
Three months ago, the old professor was accused of "trading cultural relics" and committed suicide by hitting a wall in the detention center, leaving only half a bronze compass - an old object that he had not fully studied after looking through twenty "Archaeological Notes".
"Thirty dollars?
Do poor students dare to come here to hunt for goods? "The stall owner in Tang suit puffed out a cigarette and smiled. There was a piece of mud-stained jade on the rag at his feet. "I have been putting this piece of stone on display for half a month. Experts say it was probably imitated during the Republic of China. "
Su Mu's Adam's apple moved, and the last red note in his pocket was wrinkled with sweat.
As soon as my fingertips touched the compass, there was a sudden burning sensation in my palms!
The bronze lines flowed as if alive, and a line of small gold-lacquered characters appeared in front of my eyes: "Warring States Period, Chu Style Cloud and Thunder Pattern Jade Huan, authentic, dated 327 BC."
Current task: Bid it at a price 80% lower than the market price, and be rewarded with a fragment of "Keys to Dating Ancient Jade". "
"I'll give you fifty." His voice was trembling, but he slapped the money loudly.
The owner of the Tang suit stall was stunned, and the onlookers who gathered around laughed: "Little Chi is possessed by a ghost?" But the next second - when Su Mu wiped off the mud stains on the jade Huang with the corner of his clothes, the warm green green made the whole audience mute!
