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Gu Xingchen raised his eyes and looked at the human world under the sea of ​​clouds. There are many high-rise buildings and busy traffic. There is no aura or strong wind, only the ordinary smoke and fire. He and a thousand of his comrades behind him will transform from the proud students who graduated from school into ordinary people hiding in the sea of ​​​​people. But things don't go as expected, and danger comes quietly

The autumn mist wraps up the moisture of Baimai Spring, flowing over the bluestone roads in the old town of Zhangqiu, and also over the small stalls in the antique morning market. Song Zhengwen squatted in front of his stall, rubbing an inconspicuous black pottery fragment from Longshan with his fingertips. He could feel the warmth of the clay that had accumulated for thousands of years on his fingertips. In his ears, he could hear the shouts of vendors, the bargaining of buyers, and the faint sound of wind coming from the distant mountains of Hushan. He is twenty-five years old this year, with a tall and tall figure, and a certain calmness beyond his age in his brows and eyes. Only the occasional flash of light in his eyes reveals the agility in his bones. Three years ago, my grandfather Song Laodao passed away, leaving behind a small antique shop "Zhengwen Pavilion" that was on the verge of closure, as well as a box of yellowed ancient Feng Shui books, a half-broken compass, and a last word: "Zhengwen, our Song family's ability is to read Qi through Xuanmen, discern minds with antiques, and keep business ethics. Don't lose your roots, and don't be tainted by evil spirits." Song Laodao is a well-known local Feng Shui master in Zhangqiu. He is also a connoisseur of antiques. He has kept a low profile all his life, but he has also accumulated a bit of fame. It's just that Song Zhengwen had an unruly temper when he was young. He always felt that his grandfather's "metaphysical Feng Shui" was feudal superstition, and he was obsessed with antiques. It wasn't until his grandfather passed away and his creditors came to visit that he actually picked up those ancient books and discovered that his grandfather's What I left behind has never been illusory things - Xuanmen can tell the authenticity of antiques and the good and bad of the house by looking at Qi; antiques can distinguish the heart and know the good and evil of human nature and the warmth and warmth of world affairs; only by keeping upright business principles can we stand firm in the ups and downs of troubled times. "Young man, how much does this pottery piece cost?" An old man wearing a Chinese tunic suit and reading glasses squatted down and his eyes fell on the piece in Song Zhengwen's hand.