My Museum Is Illegal

Fang Yan, a night shift security guard at a city museum, earns a monthly salary of 3,200 yuan. The thing he regretted most in his life was touching the treasure of the museum - a bronze tripod with a grid pattern from the Xia Dynasty late one night. From then on, Lord Ding made a home in his mind: "In three months, light up the thirty-six frames and stabilize the context. Otherwise, you and I will finish playing with the more than 20,000 cultural relics in the museum." Countdown, thirty days. Fang Yan thought that lighting up the grid was to chat with the cultural relics and help them fulfill their little wishes. For example, tell the Han Dynasty pottery horse that always wants to run that horses are not allowed in modern cities; comfort the Tang Sancai camel that misses the sunset in Chang'an, the sunset video is enough. Until the "civilized hunters" kicked in the door and wanted to drain the "spirit" of the cultural relics. Until Su Qinghe, a beautiful researcher from the Provincial Institute of Archeology, appeared with a psychic pulse gun and told him: "You are the resonater, the guardian chosen by the context." Fang Yan looked at the few scattered glimmers of light on the Xia Cauldron, and then looked at the powerful enemy eyeing outside. He sighed and said to Ding Ye, who was pushing the progress in his mind: "Stop pushing, keep working." "I just want to ask-" "In this job of saving civilization, do you have to pay five social insurances and one housing fund?"