Chapter 10

In the afternoon, there were few customers, and Yang Bo, engrossed in his book, had some time to rest. He had woken up too early in the morning, and using his special ability required a certain amount of energy. Combined with the emotional ups and downs of the day, he inevitably felt exhausted.

While reading, he gradually fell asleep. When he woke up, it was already dark, and there was no one in the shop. Fortunately, no customers had come. Yang Bo inspected the place, and nothing was missing. He went out to buy dinner and soon went to bed after washing up.

...

At dawn, the sky was pitch black, and Yang Bo got up again. The ghost market had already started. In fact, the ghost market did not happen every day; it only occurred on the 6th, 16th, and 26th of each lunar month, which meant there were only three days of the ghost market each month. However, since it was still a business, a small number of second-hand dealers would form a small ghost market to avoid being caught by the city management during the day. This small ghost market happened every day.

The small ghost market was not large, and there were many fake items. Yang Bo was well aware of this, but it was still an opportunity he would not miss!

He walked from stall to stall. Following the curator Qu yesterday had been somewhat effective, but it was hard to encounter celebrities at the small ghost market. Moreover, the events of yesterday were not pleasant, so Yang Bo gave up on the idea of following someone.

Most of the items at the small ghost market were small trinkets. Yang Bo even saw someone with a snake skin bag, selling a half-bag of rainflower stones in bulk. These rainflower stones were sold at tourist sites for a few yuan, and you could grab a handful for five or ten yuan. However, considering the cost of a few yuan per kilogram, this method of selling was highly profitable.

The bricks from the Ming city wall were also openly displayed at the stalls, but Yang Bo quickly realized that these bricks were fake. If they were real, the police would have shown up soon.

Yang Bo searched for a long time, flipping through many items. He even felt a bit dizzy, but he still found nothing, which made him anxious. He was more eager than ever to get 850,000 yuan; it was his hope!

However, things did not go as smoothly as Yang Bo had hoped. Even after checking the last stall, he still found nothing of value, which left him very disappointed.

On his way back, Yang Bo's head was heavy. Passing by Jiyatang, he noticed that it was not open. He had not paid attention before, but perhaps Jiyatang only opened on ghost market days.

He had been in Nanjing for two years, but due to his low salary and his generally inactive nature, he had never gone out to explore. Now, he felt a bit lost trying to find another ghost market. After thinking for a long time, he finally remembered a place with an antique market: Fuzi Temple!

Fuzi Temple was not far from Chaotian Palace. Yang Bo turned around and casually approached a stall owner, calling him "big brother," and asked, "Is there an antique market at Fuzi Temple?"

"Yes, of course there is. There's also a flower and bird market there!" The stall owner, with poor business, answered listlessly.

"Is there a ghost market?" Yang Bo perked up.

"Ghost market?" The stall owner snorted, "Of course there is. The market there is much larger than here!"

"Big brother, how do I get there?" Yang Bo, not noticing the stall owner's expression, asked eagerly.

"Oh, you go east from the next intersection, turn left at the third traffic light..."

...

Following the directions given by the stall owner, Yang Bo started running. He always stayed at the antique shop and had no means of transportation. He was also unwilling to spend half a day's meal money on a taxi, so he had to rely on his legs. Fortunately, according to the stall owner, the distance was not far.

Yang Bo had always exercised in the morning, but he had recently fallen out of the habit. Running was not too strenuous for him.

After running for over twenty minutes, he still had not seen Fuzi Temple. He became anxious, especially since it was night and there were no pedestrians on the road. He consoled himself that he was almost there and continued running.

After another ten minutes, he asked a passerby and finally found Fuzi Temple. By then, it was already getting light.

Yang Bo walked around Fuzi Temple and finally found a pancake stall. He ran over and asked, "Hello, isn't there a ghost market here? Why can't I find it?"

"Ghost market? What's a ghost market? Is there a haunted place?"

Yang Bo was taken aback, "It's a place where people sell antiques at night!"

"Oh, I don't think there is one. But the night market here is very lively. There's an antique street that stays open until one or two in the morning, which could be considered a ghost market."

...

Yang Bo was hungry and thirsty. He bought a pancake and soy milk, eating while wandering around Fuzi Temple.

In the early morning, only breakfast shops were open. The commercial atmosphere in Fuzi Temple was strong, and it did not have the ancient charm he had imagined. The modern clothing brands in the shops made Yang Bo lose interest.

Finally, he found the antique market on Zanyuan Road, but it was too early, and the market was not open yet. He did not have time to wait.

Crossing Zanyuan Road, he saw many antique shops on both sides. Just as he was about to leave, he spotted a stall!

Squatting in front of the stall, Yang Bo looked at the few items on display: a field-yellow stone seal, which was a new item, and he decided to skip it. His energy was limited, and he could feel that he could only use his ability once more after expending so much earlier.

A bright yellow famille-rose porcelain bowl, with a glossy exterior and still showing signs of newness, was probably not old, so he also skipped it.

The remaining items were miscellaneous, and Yang Bo did not pay much attention to them. His gaze finally settled on a bronze string-patterned jue. It was the most ordinary, but Yang Bo had a strong premonition.

A bright light appeared before his eyes, and a thick halo gradually formed, which surprised him.

Yang Bo pointed at the string-patterned jue, "How much is this one?"

The stall owner, wrapped in a gray coat, looked up at Yang Bo, "Fifty!"

Yang Bo did not haggle, paid the money, and took the string-patterned jue. After a night of searching, he finally had something to show for it!

The string-patterned jue was covered with a layer of green rust, but its condition was still good. According to Yang Bo's estimation, it was from the Shang or Zhou dynasty, but it was hard to determine the exact period.

However, even with this string-patterned jue, Yang Bo was not overly excited. The domestic bronze market was not large, and the restrictions on trading ancient bronze items made many people unwilling to collect them, so the prices were not high.

Even so, being able to buy this string-patterned jue still made Yang Bo a bit excited. Having something to show for his efforts gave him the confidence to keep going!

On his way back, Yang Bo took a taxi; he was too tired to walk...