In the 1980s, northern Henan was so poor that the wind smelled like dust.
But in these humble little villages,
But there are a group of people who ride bicycles as "money bikes" -
Collect antiques, go to ghost markets, go down to caves, and gamble your life for money.
And I, a rural scholar who should have been admitted to college,
Forced to drop out of school, he embarked on the antique world with a broken canvas bag on his back.
With a pair of eyes that are good at seeing people,
Relying on a few yellowed ancient books,
Also relying on the "yin and yang eye" that has been handed down a little bit,
I got into the most chaotic, darkest, and easiest ghost market to get rich.
I have seen:
Fake jade deceives laymen, genuine goods are hidden in ancient wells, stolen goods are laundered on the black market, and childcare bureaus are playing tricks;
Also seen——
Some people break their righteousness for money, and some people lose their lives for righteousness.
The rules of the world are messed up.
I set up a small store sign in the ghost market:
Yin Yang Antique Shop.
Yin looks at people, Yang looks at goods.
Don't harm others, don't lie to others.
Some people say I'm stupid,
Some people say I'm crazy,
But only I know——
In this world where it is difficult to distinguish between true and false,
What I want to keep is not money.
It's the heart.
