[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-bound-to-the-sign-in-system-i-took-off":3,"chapter-bound-to-the-sign-in-system-i-took-off-bound-to-the-sign-in-system-i-took-off-chapter-165":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Bound to the Sign-In System, I Took Off",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2336219,4567,"Chapter 165","bound-to-the-sign-in-system-i-took-off-chapter-165",165,"\u003Cp>Since he was going to visit Xia Xiaoxing’s home, he decided not to retrieve the car for now. After dinner, Xia Xiaoxing dropped him off at a budget hotel in Putuo District.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After they left, Qin Yun took a shower, changed clothes, and wandered out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He chose this budget hotel for a reason: not far away was Lingshi Road, which housed the Jiqu Antiques Market.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every Thursday night after eleven, a ghost market would open there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Today happened to be December 15th, a Thursday.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Visiting someone’s home empty-handed was unacceptable. Bringing a few bags of fruit or milk didn’t suit their status. Whether it was Xia Xiaoxing’s family or Han Wei’s, both clearly came from wealthy, established backgrounds—not nouveau riche.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had just checked Shanghai Ziyuan and found that although the houses were old, the prices were truly exorbitant. In the early 2000s, each villa cost over 130 million RMB, let alone now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only the ultra-rich or the elite could afford to live there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After much thought, since traditional gifts wouldn’t work, he’d better make use of his own craft. Earlier, he’d specifically asked Xia Xiaoxing and Han Wei for their family members’ zodiac signs, planning to find some jade material at Jiqu Antiques Market and carve a few personal gifts by hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This way, it wouldn’t seem stingy, yet would exude refinement—perfect for the psychology of these wealthy families.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Truthfully, he was just embarrassed about his first visit; otherwise, as their benefactor, showing up empty-handed wouldn’t matter—he was just overthinking.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Strolling leisurely, Shanghai’s night lights glittered brilliantly. It was nearly eleven, yet pedestrians still streamed past, and traffic remained jammed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>You could only say international metropolises were different. In Zhoushan, by this hour, everyone would’ve been fast asleep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not long after, Qin Yun arrived at Jiqu Antiques Market.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It might not have been eleven yet; many open-air stalls had only just begun to set up—bread vans, folding tables, plastic sheets—all manner of items that looked authentically antique were laid out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The air reeked of diesel and the mustiness of old objects. Under dim yellow lights, the assorted antiques carried an air of mystery.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Stepping into the square, his gaze swept over the nearby stalls—just one glance and he moved on.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if he knew nothing about antiques, he knew there were no Ultramen among them. Items made to look like artifacts unearthed from Sanxingdui were utterly ridiculous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After walking a few steps, he stopped. On a faded blue cloth lay a pile of broken porcelain shards. The blue-and-white fragments gleamed with glaze, some with fine crackle patterns, others still bearing kiln-change marks from firing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These pieces did look like genuine old artifacts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He glanced at the stall owner—a young man about his own age.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Do people actually buy these porcelain shards, boss?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The young man looked up, seeing Qin Yun’s tall, muscular frame and rugged aura. He’d been about to ignore him, but after meeting Qin Yun’s eyes, he replied, “Hmm. Even fragments of genuine antiques have collectors.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qin Yun nodded slightly. He didn’t understand antiques. His gaze drifted from the porcelain to the copper coins beside it, then to a jade tablet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Boss, can I handle it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The young man nodded, saying nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qin Yun didn’t hesitate. He squatted down, touched the jade tablet with his fingers, and confirmed it was real jade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though he knew nothing about antiques, he understood carving—deeply, at a master level. One touch told him the quality of any jade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This jade was decent, but too small. If he worked on it, he could only make minor adjustments to its original shape—little real value.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought for a moment, then placed it back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He kept walking. As time passed, the open-air stalls grew livelier, drawing more and more people—like a return to the bustling daytime flower-and-bird market.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The items on these stalls were impossible to distinguish as genuine or fake. As an outsider, Qin Yun firmly refused to buy any antiques.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he got fooled and brought home junk, it’d be pointless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His goal was clear: jade material and wood material. Though he knew nothing about antiques, he could instantly judge the authenticity and quality of jade and wood the moment he touched them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was a mandatory skill in his carving knowledge system.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How could one become a great carver if he couldn’t tell good jade or wood from bad? Every master carver understood materials far better than anyone else—otherwise, how could they carve flowers on wood or tigers on jade?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qin Yun wandered for over an hour, nearly covering every open-air stall, yet found nothing he liked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He decided to check the main building.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But before he took two steps, an unassuming corner stall caught his eye.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The stall was tucked between two bread vans. The vendor was an elderly man with white hair, wrapped in a faded military coat, squatting on the ground before a tattered yellow silk cloth. On it lay a jumble of old wood scraps, worn wooden spoons, and several dusty lumps of wood—initially looking like trash.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man bowed his head, rubbing a wooden bead between his fingers, ignoring passersby, eyes half-closed—whether dozing or lost in thought, no one could tell.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qin Yun was drawn to a wooden stump in the corner. It was pale yellow with faint brown tones, covered in dust, its edges scarred with knocks and dents—like discarded beams from an old house.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Earlier, someone’s flashlight had accidentally swept over it, revealing a faint, shimmering green hue—strikingly noticeable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But now, under closer inspection, the glow was gone. Qin Yun thought he’d imagined it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Old man, can I handle this piece?” Qin Yun pointed to the wooden stump.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man in the military coat lifted his eyelids slightly and grunted an “Mm,” then closed his eyes again, utterly indifferent to whether a sale happened—utterly zen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing the owner’s consent, Qin Yun immediately picked it up, pressing and touching it with his fingers, even leaning in to sniff.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He smelled nothing but faint mildew. But the tactile sensation and the wood’s slight resilience stirred something in him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To him, this wood’s texture was top-tier for carving—even better than the purple sandalwood he’d bought on Mount Putuo.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The size and appearance immediately brought several wood types to mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Old man, how much for this piece?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing the price question, the old man opened his eyes and said one word: “Five.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Fifty thousand? That’s expensive!” Qin Yun feigned shock and quickly placed the stump back on the stall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man rolled his eyes. “Five thousand. Take it. No haggling.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Five thousand’s still too much, old man. What kind of wood is this?” Qin Yun hesitated. “It looks like a wooden post—not exactly premium material, right?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It’s huanghuali. Take it back to a wood carving workshop—you could make plenty of fine pieces. I’m selling it cheap at five thousand.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though old, the man spoke with strong, clear voice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Huanghuali?” Qin Yun frowned. “I thought huanghuali had mountain-and-river patterns or ghost-face markings. This wood’s grain is too fine—it doesn’t match.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man glared. “I collected this wood. Do you know more than I do? Want it? Five thousand, take it. Don’t want it? Walk away. Plenty will buy.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright, alright, I’ll buy it!” Qin Yun muttered. “So old, yet such a temper.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pointed to the QR code on the ground. “Scan this, right?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man nodded, secretly pleased.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The discarded scraps from his hometown had finally sold. Lucky he hadn’t let his wife throw them out—otherwise, he’d have lost a fortune.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When the mobile payment alert chimed, Qin Yun casually hugged the wood to his chest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though its surface revealed nothing, it could only be one of a few types. Qin Yun judged that, beneath the grime, it was almost certainly jinsi nanmu—and likely yinchengmu.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If true, he’d struck gold.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Top-grade jinsi nanmu yinchengmu sold for over five hundred yuan per gram. Even after removing waste, this stump weighed at least ten kilograms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if it wasn’t what he thought, the wood was more than enough for carving. He didn’t bother entering the main building—turned around, and headed straight back to the budget hotel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon after he left, two middle-aged men approached the old man’s stall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One stared at the corner and exclaimed, “Old man, where’s that wooden stump?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sold it.” The old man lifted his eyelids, smug. “Five thousand.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He remembered this man—he’d come last week, eyed the stump, tried to haggle, and left empty-handed. Now he was back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man sighed regretfully. “Lao Gu, wasted trip.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man called Lao Gu pointed to the spot where the stump had been. A small fragment lay on the ground. “Can I take a look?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man nodded. A scrap of trash—go ahead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Gu picked it up, bent it, bit it, then even chewed a bit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, he placed it down with a complex expression, pitying the old man.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Why are you looking at me like that?” the old man asked, confused. “He didn’t buy it last week. I told you my goods are popular—he just didn’t believe me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Gu shook his head. “Old man, you sold that stump too cheap.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sold it cheap?” The old man scoffed. “Fine, call it cheap if you want. Now leave. Don’t block my stall.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The other man asked curiously, “Lao Gu, what’s the story? Is it good material?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Gu nodded. “Top-grade jinsi nanmu yinchengmu. Diameter near fifty centimeters? Premium. Five hundred yuan per gram.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man’s eyes nearly popped out. He had no doubt about Lao Gu’s eye—he was a Fudan archaeology professor, a national expert, a top-tier connoisseur. He couldn’t be wrong. He only regretted not buying it last week for five thousand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two men left. The old man sank into self-doubt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He instinctively disbelieved them—thought they were just trying to rattle him. Such tricks were common in the market.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he couldn’t help wondering.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hey, where’d that guy go? I just saw Professor Gu from Fudan! Old man, who was at your stall just now?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A middle-aged man, forty or fifty, rushed over, panting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man froze. “What? That guy was a Fudan professor?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man nodded. “Yes, Professor Gu from Fudan—China’s top archaeologist, national treasure. What did he want from your stall?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>*Clang!*\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man collapsed, fainting from rage.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Luckily, his health was good. Someone pressed his Renzhong point and he revived.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The moment he woke, he wailed: “My jinsi nanmu! Damn brat, may heaven strike you down!”\u003C\u002Fp>",1751,"2026-06-20T21:37:28.858Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","2e27c491d3ddd5cd27eaf9b31bc54d2a3e958f1eca2e9fc8ba9533a1b6dcc66c","bound-to-the-sign-in-system-i-took-off-chapter-166","bound-to-the-sign-in-system-i-took-off-chapter-164",329,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fbound-to-the-sign-in-system-i-took-off-cover.jpg"]