In the late summer afternoon, the sun seems to have been drained of its strength and hangs lazily on the horizon. The light passed through the dusty glass door of the "Forgotten Corner" antique shop, cutting several dim light paths in the air. Countless tiny dust particles rolled and danced in the light paths, like a group of ghosts without destination.
Su Chen leaned on a creaking wicker chair, holding a piece of cold A4 paper in his hand. The strength of his fingertips was so strong that he almost pinched through the paper.
At the top of the paper was the bright red seal of the court, and the following lines of bold words were like sharp knives hardened with poison, piercing straight into his eyes - "Notice of Enforcement."
The fifteenth of next month.
In other words, his antique shop, which has been passed down for three generations and is now so poor that only the word "old" is left, is about to change owners.
"Heh."
A dry laugh squeezed out of Su Chen's throat. He casually crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it towards the wastebasket in the corner. The paper ball drew a weak parabola in the air, landed accurately outside the basket, rolled twice, and stopped next to a blue and white porcelain vase with a chipped mouth, which looked particularly ironic.
The last descendant of the Su family?
