In the cold winter of the twelfth lunar month, Lu Ye, a laid-off young man, guarded his family's one-story house with bare walls and was burdened with a debt of 300 yuan. Seeing that the new year was approaching, he was desperate.
In a pile of neglected junk, he unexpectedly awakened the "heart of gold and stone" - with blood on his fingertips, he could touch the soul of an object and understand the pathos, prayers and obsessions of its maker or holder. A blue and white bowl with a cracked mouth hides the craftsman's hope of supporting his family; a piece of gray iron is engraved with the old craftsman's "Children are not deceived"; and two volumes of residual paintings that look like scraps of paper are actually attached with the suffocating pain of sinking Jiang's final strokes.
These hands that can "read minds" became the only glimmer of light in his desperate situation.
On the twenty-ninth day of the twelfth lunar month, he knocked on the door of a retired gentleman from the county cultural center with the two volumes of writings that were regarded as rubbish. He gambled on the remaining dignity, trying to dig out the value buried by time under the clumsy skin.
But cultural relics know people's hearts, and people's hearts also bet on cultural relics.
When the mark of sadness meets the scrutiny of old eyes, when the obsession of a poor boy collides with the unspoken rules of the industry, a treasure appraisal game with blood as matchmaker and objects as bargaining chips quietly begins.
But he didn't know that what was on his fingertips was not only the emotions of the artifacts, but also the unfinished stories and truths that spanned a hundred years.
