Chen Feng, who grew up in an orphanage and ran a street vendor for three years, was dumped by three women because they had no money.
In the summer of 1997, his girlfriend threw the glass necklace back in his face: "Besides the word sharp in your name, what else are you sharp about?" At that moment, he had nothing to say. He fell off a cliff and was reborn on the same day. He was still the poor boy, but he had an old black inkstone in his hand. The moment my fingertips touched it, the fragrance of ink from the Qing Dynasty study, the warmth of old things, and the secrets buried by the years all came into my mind. From the scrapyard to the old house in the country, from the street stall to the auction, from being stepped on in the mud to standing at the top of the antique circle, in this life, he has shown his sharpness. Those women who had abandoned him will see the same name again and again in newspapers, on TV, and at auctions: Chen Feng.
1997 Very pretty