Chapter 1: Xijing City

Xijing, autumn.

The lights were bright white, the projection slightly distorted, showing only the bolded title: Cultural Heritage Conservation Department Ceramic Restoration Practice (I).

Long tables were lined up, covered in porcelain shards; students sat around them, carefully piecing them together, the scent of pigment mixed with glue drilling into their nasal cavities.

Lin Sicheng stared at the projection, looking at the date in the bottom right corner: 2007-8-24, Friday.

He was stunned for a long time, rubbing his numb face hard: This is the Ceramic Restoration Laboratory, the first semester of senior year?

How did he get back?

Invited by the National Cultural Heritage Administration, he had attended a seminar on cultural heritage protection and had a few drinks at the evening banquet. Feeling a bit unwell, he returned to his room to sleep.

Once he opened his eyes, he was here.

He didn't even know if the proposal he submitted had been approved.

Since he was back, how could he still worry about things eighteen years in the future?

Just as he was dumbfounded and amused, a figure stood before him.

Very beautiful, also very young, wearing a megaphone, with a Teaching Assistant work badge hanging on her chest.

She glanced at the untouched porcelain shards, her expression cold and detached: "You don't know how?"

Lin Sicheng did not answer.

The twenty-year-old him certainly wouldn't, but the reborn him couldn't be more capable.

The youngest archaeologist in the country, a leader in the disciplines of cultural relic appraisal, protection, and restoration, having invented and registered over a hundred related patents. He had been awarded multiple times by the Ministry of Culture and Tourism and the National Cultural Heritage Administration, and served as a Consultant for several state-level research institutions.

Such a question was child's play to him.

The key was that his memory felt terrifyingly strong: the knowledge he had learned, the Thesis he had studied, the techniques he had investigated, the patents he had deliberated over—it was as if they were carved into his brain, surfacing at the slightest thought.

What was this, a benefit for a transmigrator?

Just as he was secretly ecstatic, slender fingers handed over an attendance sheet, "Sign first, if there's anything you don't understand, come ask me after class!"

Lin Sicheng took the pen and finished it in one stroke.

The sky was very clear, and the Wind had picked up, passing through the eaves, the iron wind chimes shaking incessantly.

Gravel rolled with blades of grass, hitting the gray stone wall. The locust trees by the roadside hung with last year's withered pods, making a fine, rustling sound.

Lin Sicheng held his textbooks, walking toward the school gate unhurriedly, the cobblestones on the stone path pressing against his soles, the sensation exceptionally clear.

Gu Ming leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, looking sloppy. Seeing Lin Sicheng, he first bared a pair of large front teeth.

What the hell are you smiling at?

Only twenty-seven, and his photo was already on the wall. Following that, his wife ran off with someone else, leaving him to raise a child for over a decade.

Son of a bitch...

Sensing that Lin Sicheng's gaze was wrong, Gu Ming lowered his head, looking himself over from head to toe: "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing!"

"Then why are you looking at me like you're throwing knives?"

Gu Ming grumbled, eyeing Lin Sicheng's face, "No class this afternoon, right? How about... going home?"

Going home?

Lin Sicheng was stunned, distant memories surging in his mind.

Back then, his brain must have short-circuited, thinking that since his grandfather was a professor at Northwest University and his old man had graduated from Northwest University, he had to attend Northwest University too?

Besides, he was about to go to college, yet he hadn't even stepped out of Xijing City, and he had been dead set against going.

But could he really have his own way?

So for his four years of college, his relationship with his family had always been poor, and he wouldn't go home at the drop of a hat.

His family worried about him, so they would occasionally send Gu Ming over to check on him, besides delivering living expenses, he would also try to persuade him.

Thinking about it now, it was quite stupid: wouldn't it have been nice to be a Second Generation of the antique world?

As it turned out, after going around in a huge circle, he ended up on this path anyway, wasting several years for nothing.

Having lived two lives, he couldn't possibly be that naive anymore. Money could be earned slowly, and fame and success were not urgent; at the very least, he wanted to be comfortable and harmonious.

He sighed: "Where's Grandpa?"

"Setting up a stall at Xiaodongmen; he can't stay idle even after retirement!"

"What about my mom and dad?"

"Working, of course..." Before he finished speaking, Gu Ming paused: Huh, a change of heart?

In the past, let alone asking proactively, he would just snort coldly whenever they were mentioned.

"Really going home?"

"What's real or fake about me going to my own home!" Lin Sicheng reached out, "Where's my money?"

Gu Ming thought quickly: "Uncle Lin didn't give it to me, he said to go home and get it yourself!"

"Bullshit!"

Before the words faded, Lin Sicheng moved with lightning speed, reaching into Gu Ming's pocket and pulling out a few red banknotes.

Gu Ming panicked: If this bastard had money, would he still go home?

He reached out to grab them: "That's my money!"

Lin Sicheng sneered: "Payday isn't until the first, what the hell kind of money do you have?"

Ever since he started his internship after the New Year, Gu Shu stopped managing him. Gu Ming was a big spender, and his salary was basically gone by the end of the month.

Forget six hundred, if he could pull out sixty from his pocket right now, Lin Sicheng would dare call him 'Dad'.

"I found it!"

Gu Ming was relentless, but Lin Sicheng pushed him away, "Don't mess around, let's go to Xiaodongmen to find Grandpa first, then go home!"

In the moment he was dazed, Lin Sicheng had walked quite far, and Gu Ming trotted along behind him, rolling his eyes: "You buy the groceries tonight, let our grandpa make Steamed Pork, stew a Pig Trotter, and we'll have a couple of drinks!"

"Will you eat that, you coward?"

"I will!" Gu Ming swallowed his saliva, "And have grandpa stew some Three Treasures, the ram's whip needs to be thick, the gamier the better!"

Upon hearing "the gamier the better," Lin Sicheng felt a chill in his stomach.

……

Two hours later, the two got off the bus.

A small alley sat beneath the city wall, covered by a rain canopy overhead; the stone-slab road was straight and level, and moisture mixed with a musty smell Floating into their nostrils.

Long tables were lined up in a row, porcelain cups were covered in cracks, Bronze ware gave off a dim light, and a sandalwood box was half-open, revealing a Jade tablet broken into two pieces. An Enamel vase was wrapped in years of accumulated dust, and an old man with a white beard and slicked-back hair leaned against a recliner, dozing.

Continuing to walk forward, they exited the alley, and the view suddenly opened up.

Under the sunny wall, small stalls were packed densely; porcelain, bronze, lacquer, tin, ancient coins, Jade, wood-carved furniture, Calligraphy and Painting, and ancient books—it could be said they were dazzling and had everything one could wish for.

Xijing is the ancient capital of thirteen dynasties; there are more ancient tombs under its city walls than in Beijing, Jinling, and Luoyang combined, so naturally, it has its own foundation. There are quite a few genuine items, and there are also quite a lot of tourists.

Of course, there are even more fakes.

The two went straight east, arriving under the city tower, but they came up empty-handed.

Only after asking the stall owner nearby did they learn that not long after arriving this morning, Grandpa received a phone call, seemingly to help someone with an Appraisal.

Gu Ming sighed: "Going home?"

"There's no one home anyway, let's look around first!"

"Better not look around, didn't you hear what our grandpa said: this lousy place is full of fakes!"

Lin Sicheng laughed immediately: "Aren't there also those who don't sell fakes, just like our grandpa? Maybe we can pick up something good."

"Pick up what?" Gu Ming squinted his eyes: "You'll pick up nothing!"

Lin Sicheng's grandpa is impressive: he taught archaeology for most of his life and played with antiques for most of his life, yet he still has times when he misjudges, let alone Lin Sicheng?

Lin Sicheng just smiled.

Not to brag, but with his current level, he is absolutely at the forefront of the domestic Appraisal and Cultural Relics Protection circles. Moreover, he has memories and insights that transcend the last twenty years.

Anyway, there is no one at home, so it's a good time to practice.

Lin Sicheng strolled along slowly.

The stalls were not large, with a hundred or eighty items at most, and thirty or fifty at least; Lin Sicheng could judge them roughly with a single glance.

There were indeed many fakes, about nine to one. Occasionally, when he encountered a real one, the price was also ridiculously high.

But this trade has been like this since ancient times; to put it bluntly: panning for gold in shit.

Walking and looking, Lin Sicheng stopped in front of a newspaper stall.

Gu Ming took a glance: it was all newspapers and magazines, not to mention they were all in simplified characters, and they were all party newspapers.

There were *People's Daily*, *Shaanxi Daily*, *Reform*, and *Seeking Truth*; one look and it was clear they were scavenged from some government agency.

"What's there to look at in a pile of waste paper?"

Lin Sicheng replied casually: "What if I find a treasure?"

Gu Ming curled his lip, "If there's a treasure in this pile of junk, I'll eat shit!"

The stall owner was unhappy: "Hey, you little brat, what kind of talk is that?"