Twelve o'clock at midnight.
Xuanyuan Rancang's fingers were still trembling when he pried open the back window of the antique shop. It's not that I'm afraid, I'm hungry. They didn't have enough to eat for three days, and the meager salary from the acrobatic troupe completely filled the hole of loan sharks.
"If you don't pay me back, I'll take off one of your legs." Scarface's words were still ringing in his ears.
He rolled into the house, moving as gently as a cat—a skill he had honed over many years of walking a tightrope. The moonlight shines through the display window and onto the rows of bottles and cans. Tang Sancai, blue and white porcelain, bronze jue... He didn't understand these. He only knew that if he touched any one, he could pay off his debt.
But those are locked in glass cabinets.
There was only a black pottery pot on the wooden shelf in the corner. The body of the pot was crooked, and a piece of the spout was missing. It was so ugly that it was eye-catching. The shop owner probably thought the junk was worthless and didn't even lock it.
Xuanyuan Rancang spat. Unlucky.
But time is running out. He reached out to grab the chamber pot, and his fingertips just touched the cold pottery surface——
"Crack!"
The body of the pot suddenly cracked.
He trembled with fright, and the pot fell to the ground from his hand, smashing into seven or eight pieces. The fragments splashed up, and one of them scratched his palm, and blood instantly poured out.
"Fuck..." He cursed and hurriedly knelt down to clean up the mess.
