After returning from the army and returning to the county town, Lin Zhao originally wanted to stay with his parents and sister and live a peaceful life.
Until an old pen cut his finger and disappeared into his body.
From then on, with just a touch, he could see where an object came from, whose hands it passed through, how much it was worth, and what hidden secrets it concealed.
While others spent decades honing their eyesight, he knew at a glance that the broken bowl at the stall owner's feet was genuine; while others bet tens of millions on a stone, the stone he picked out from the scrap heap was able to cut out sky-high price jadeite that shocked the entire jade circle.
Antiques, gambling stones, luxury cars, contracts, bloodlines, centuries-old accounts...
All things, as long as they have been in this world, will definitely leave traces.
Everyone thought that Lin Zhao was just lucky, until the rich men came to visit, the wealthy families bowed their heads, and the lawless princes in the capital all stood up straight and saluted after seeing him.
Lin Zhao put his hands back in his trouser pockets and smiled lazily: "Don't be nervous, I'm just a rag collector in the county."
