Eighteen years ago, my father disappeared while holding a box of cultural relics and ledgers. The official conclusion was: an accident.
Eighteen years later, his son Jiang Bai was kicked out of the antique shop, with only two hundred yuan in his pocket and a pile of broken porcelain pieces that would make people laugh.
He could hear the cultural relics talking - but he didn't know that every thing his father left behind was waiting for him to listen.
The accounts were taken away, the treasury was sealed, and the crime report records were withdrawn.
But I remember the mirror from the Tang Dynasty, the porcelain pieces from the Song Dynasty, and the seal on my father's pillow.
They erased all the names.
But not everything in this world is accounted for by name.
The bronze mirror of the Tang Dynasty scolded the street for thousands of years, telling him that there were leaks in the ghost market that could be picked up;
Porcelain fragments from the Song Dynasty hide the secrets of the underground palace and involve the unsolved archaeological case of my father's disappearance nearly twenty years ago;
And in that forgotten official kiln underground palace, every ancient object is crying for help...
From the expelled apprentice to the master treasure appraiser who shocked the entire industry.
Jiang Bai just wanted to say: In this industry, truth cannot be fake; but fakeness——
Will curse.
