There were two lush loquat trees planted in the courtyard, the light was dim, and more than a dozen people were already waiting there, all with somewhat hesitant expressions on their faces. Clearly, none of them had expected the other party to contact so many buyers at once.

Henry Brooks also felt a sinking feeling in his heart and looked at Fatty Goodwin: “Why are there so many people? Where do we see the goods?”

Fatty Goodwin shrugged helplessly and pointed to the middle-aged man standing under the tree in a dark gray jacket, saying, “This is Mr. Jones. He was worried that just three or five people wouldn’t be able to take all his goods, and they’re eager to get rid of them, so he invited three more groups. As for where the goods are, I don’t know either.”

The middle-aged man was quite unremarkable, about 1.7 meters tall, looking a bit thin and gaunt, wearing glasses with badly worn frames and thick lenses, making him look very nearsighted. His jacket seemed to be stained with a lot of dust and mud, making him look just like a technician coming off a construction site.

The other party said that this batch of old goods was dug up from a tunnel construction site in another province. Because the work was being done late at night, the construction team in charge at the time moved the old goods out and then buried the not-so-large site...

Now the foundation work at that site has been completed, so not a word about the ancient tomb has leaked out.

Of course, this could all just be a story. At this point, someone asked discontentedly:

“He can just mention any random corner, and we all have to follow him there?”

Everyone here was from the same circle. Henry Brooks had met most of them before and knew that he himself was the least well-off among this group, far less so than Grace Sutton.

If someone had tens of millions in assets, there’s no way they’d let a stranger lead them by the nose. Who knows what the other party is really up to?

Seeing the other party being so mysterious, not to mention Henry Brooks and Grace Sutton, most people were ready to back out and leave.

“I brought two items with me. Take a look first, then decide if you want to go see the rest.” The middle-aged man said in a muffled voice.

Henry Brooks was the least well-off, so he didn’t care much. He just stood there watching how Fatty Goodwin and the others would choose, and was also curious to see what kind of old goods this unremarkable middle-aged man could produce that would make so many old hands willingly take such a risk.

Chapter 2: The Dragon Cauldron

The middle-aged man spoke little and turned to walk toward the main hall, with the others following behind.

He pushed open the main door. In the center of the hall, against the wall on the Eight Immortals table, sat a four-legged black square cauldron, about a foot tall.

A square cauldron of this size would be considered miniature among the bronze vessels unearthed in China. On the body of the cauldron was a slender, lifelike azure dragon coiled around it, its four claws forming the four legs of the cauldron. The dragon’s head and tail were raised high, serving as the two handles of the square cauldron, which could be gripped.

The light in the room was extremely dim, with no light source shining on the Eight Immortals table, yet Henry Brooks, standing at the doorway, could see every detail on the black cauldron with surprising clarity.

Not only were the blue scales of the dragon on the cauldron’s body clearly visible, but even the thousands of tiny ancient seal script inscriptions, as small as fly heads, were perfectly legible to Henry Brooks.

There was hardly any rust on the cauldron. The dragon’s blue scales and red head were still bright in color, nothing like something just dug out of an ancient tomb, yet it exuded an ancient and unrefined aura.

Even stranger, the dragon cast on the cauldron seemed almost alive, and Henry Brooks inexplicably felt a kind of mental pressure, as if he were being stared at.

“It doesn’t look like paint...” Someone walked up to the Eight Immortals table, staring at the small square cauldron in confusion, but didn’t suspect it was fake. He carefully reached out to touch the dragon-head handle, gasped, and exclaimed in surprise, “It’s so hot...”

After being buried underground for a thousand years, what kind of paint could survive exposure to light without decaying, and still look as fresh as new?

If the other party really wanted to fake it, they would have done a thorough job and wouldn’t have left such laughable flaws.

Seeing that the middle-aged man didn’t try to stop them, Henry Brooks also went over and reached out to touch the cauldron. The body of the cauldron was as cold as ice, but the fierce dragon coiled around it felt like burning charcoal, so hot that Henry Brooks almost cried out. But when he quickly pulled his hand back, there was no sign of a burn at all.

This was truly bizarre.

Henry Brooks looked closely at the dragon’s blue scales and red head. The colors were extremely vivid, but they weren’t painted on; it was more like they were cast directly from some kind of radioactive colored metal.

Thinking of this, Henry Brooks was startled and instinctively backed away: radioactive metal was nothing to mess with!

“We tested it at the construction site with instruments for metal flaw detection—no radioactivity...”

Henry Brooks’s instinctive reaction caught the middle-aged man’s attention. He clearly realized how cautious and meticulous Henry Brooks was. Perhaps out of a sense of camaraderie, the usually taciturn man came over and offered Henry Brooks a brief explanation.

Seeing the others still confused, Henry Brooks gave an embarrassed smile, knowing that no one else had thought of this. He carefully examined the black cauldron again. He couldn’t tell what metal the dragon coiled around the cauldron was made of, but it was seamlessly integrated with the cauldron’s body, with not a trace of a joint. If nothing else, just this level of craftsmanship was astonishing.

Henry Brooks circled to the front of the black cauldron and again felt as if the dragon’s eyes were staring straight at him, making him extremely uncomfortable, as if this fierce dragon were a living creature. It was truly uncanny.