Grandpa only left an unprintable sapphire seal for Shen Yan and told him not to let anyone see it. Shen Yan didn't listen, turned around and hung it around his neck to start the live broadcast. Until a Tang Sancai camel complained of motion sickness in the street. As soon as he stamped it, the camel fell silent, and he was invited to the National Stamping Department.
This is a secret unit that specializes in the manifestation of cultural relics. The monthly salary is 2,800 yuan, the ink pad is prepared by oneself, and the probation period is three months. Among my colleagues are Pixiu who can eat ink pads, a team leader who can block the street with a flick of his chain, and a bronze statue who queues up in the middle of the night to ask for explanations. Shen Yan's skill is to understand the obsession of each cultural relic and put a mark on it.
But he gradually discovered that the wordless seal left by his grandfather condensed a word every time it was stamped. The more words he writes, the closer he gets to the secret that his grandfather has hidden for half his life, and the closer he gets to a question that he dares not face: Does he himself count as a person or a seal?
