Shen Gu touched an old pot that cost 80 yuan and heard a voice coming from nine hundred years ago.
The voice spoke with a long, ancient weariness—
"Bullshit."
The pot is from the Song Dynasty. Folk kiln, fired during the Xining period. The family called it a chamber pot.
It was silent for nine hundred years, and the first thing it said was scolding him.
From that day on, Shen Gu discovered that he could talk to antiques - the moment he touched the real thing, he fell into the era he had experienced from the perspective of an artifact, watching the three meals a day of ordinary people in the city, the half-life of an unknown woman deep in the palace, and everything that had never been recorded in history books but really happened. In reality, it's just a blink of an eye, but in antiques, it's been several days.
Relying on this ability, he went from running a stall to becoming an outlier in the appraisal circle - no one has ever figured out how he could tell.
Others asked: How do you know it is from the Song Dynasty?
He said: It told me.
No one believed him.
But there are more and more antiques, more and more people speak, and the history they witness becomes more and more heavy - there is the passing of time in the market, there is the undercurrent of the palace, there is a period of truth that has been deliberately erased, leaving only fragments scattered everywhere, waiting for someone who can hear it to put it back together.
Shen Gu didn't know if he was that person.
But the note was still in the bag, the bronze mirror hadn't finished telling Ah Heng's story, and he still owed three hundred and eighty dollars in rent.
