Zhou Chongyi squatted on the edge of his field, digging his fingers into the hardened saline-alkali soil. Three seconds later, he opened his eyes - there was a nest of Chongning Tongbao from the Northern Song Dynasty buried in the soil, and there was also a complete pottery pot from the Han Dynasty 1.5 Meters deep underground. Before his death, his grandfather said that this land could not support crops, but what Zhou Changyi saw were seventy-two cultural relics waiting to be unearthed, and a golden earth aura that was so rich that it was dazzling. He planted chili peppers, and the fruits produced were fragrant with pine wood smoke; he pickled radishes, and when he opened the altar, the whole village road was filled with the aroma of centuries-old sauce. A bacon video on the short video account "Chongyi Nongjian" gained two million followers, and the purchasing director of a five-star hotel drove into the village overnight. Villager Zhao Dabiao held up an heirloom porcelain bowl for identification, Qian Mancang dug out a copper-green plowshare and sold it as scrap iron, and the barren hillside of Sun Shoutian in the next village was suspected of containing a group of ancient tombs. Zhou Chongyi helped them identify falsehoods one by one, but he didn't know that every good deed was accumulating the legendary "merit and virtue" - until his third eye could see three feet deep into the ground, the opponent who framed him in the capital finally couldn't sit still. Tonight, someone threw arsenic into his well.
On the third floor of the Antique City, in a private room separated by a red sandalwood shelf, the green smoke of incense rises straight up.
The moment Ye Ming took the brocade box, his fingertips touched the wood - not new rosewood, but old huanghuali, with a coating as thick as solidified lard.
His eyelids twitched.
If you use a box of this level to store things, the quality of the goods inside will not be bad.
"Teacher Ye, please tell me." Zhao Dabiao unbuttoned the plate, revealing the gold chain inside, which was as thick as a little finger.
Ye Ming didn't answer.
He pushed open the copper buckle and opened the lid.
Brocade lining, lying
