The stall owner led the way around the end of the ghost market. There was a two-story earth building next to it.
This building has been in disrepair for a long time. The walls seem to have a skin disease, with spots sticking to the wall. However, the green glazed tiles on the roof exude a blue light under the moonlight.
The whole house looks very unreasonable, but it still feels quite coordinated.
The stall owner walked up the stairs slowly and stepped on it, causing the whole building to shake.
I lowered my head and glanced, instinctively holding on to the handrail, and being a little more careful under my feet.
The so-called stairs are just a few wooden boards twisted together, and the end of the stairs happens to be the wall.
It is not difficult to see that this thing should be the product of his own modification later.
"Squeak."
The stall owner opened the iron door and then pressed the switch on the wall. Although it was only dark yellow, I still felt it was a bit dazzling.
"Everything you want is here."
He pointed his finger into the room. Almost half of the room was filled with piles, but it was covered with a layer of white cloth, making it difficult to see what was inside.
I looked at him suspiciously: "Then let me see for myself?"
"casual."
The stall owner didn't seem to care much about these things. He just said something casually and leaned against the door frame to smoke.
I carefully walked around the lunch boxes and cigarette butts on the ground, but there were too many empty beer cans on the ground, and they kept clinking with the wind under my feet.
"Wow."
I grabbed the corner of the white cloth and gently pulled it down. The dust was immediately shaken and flew all over the sky, making me choke and cough.
When the dust cleared, I was completely shocked.
From cabinets as tall as a person to palm-sized rouge boxes, you can find them all here.
This is simply a museum in a garbage dump!
Although I know little about these things, I still have basic common sense.
Modern counterfeiting technology is already very powerful, but no matter how advanced the technology is, it can only imitate the form, and the expression cannot be copied.
Just like the round fan I have on hand, it is embroidered with a thrush, and every feather has a sense of layering, which is a good thing at first glance.
I tilted my head to look at the stall owner who was smoking behind me, then stood up straight and shook off the ashes from my hands.
"Brother." I also took out a cigarette from my pocket, put it in my mouth and took a heavy puff.
"I don't want to break the rules, but you have to give me a guarantee."
He glanced sideways at me: "What do you promise?"
"I don't want anything that comes out of the soil."
I laughed a few times, half-jokingly: "Don't be labeled as someone who has stolen stolen goods when the time comes. I don't want to get into trouble."
"When you asked this question, you already broke the rules."
I looked down at the cigarette butt. If I remember correctly, this brand of cigarettes should cost three yuan a pack.
Seeing this, I suddenly laughed and spread my hands nonchalantly: "Then you don't have to sell it."
Indeed, there is a common rule in the ghost market: buyers must not be mean-mouthed and do not ask where things come from.
But these things really make me uneasy. If this guy is a tomb robber, wouldn't I become an accomplice inexplicably?
After a while, the stall owner laughed a few times: "Yes, you are awesome."
"Let me tell you clearly, my ancestors were serious relatives of the emperor, and these things were all brought from the south."
"Don't look at me for being so useless, there are so many good things out there."
With that said, he got under the bed and took out a spittoon that smelled bad: "This thing was used by Princess before."
I stared at him intently, and suddenly remembered the glazed tiles I saw when I woke up.
If you think about it this way, it can be explained.
This thing is what I want!
Everything that has happened recently seems to be a coincidence, but it actually has hidden secrets, but I can't find the reason.
Cleaning the house in the normal way has little effect, so I can only pick out some old items.
Preferably, fierce and old.
I know very well that this method of driving away wolves and devouring tigers is actually playing with fire.
But the greater the risk, the higher the reward, which is not a loss.
Soon, I selected a half-person-high dressing table among a pile of objects. In the middle of the table was a bronze mirror. There were obvious scratches on the drawer under the otoscope.
It was obvious that this look was something the owner loved during his lifetime.
