Moreover, in ancient times, officials’ promotions were not scheduled. While you were serving in the capital, buying real estate might have been convenient at the time. But once you were transferred elsewhere, you might never return for the rest of your life. Whether you hired someone to manage it or tried to sell it, it would be a huge hassle. And back then, there were no nationwide banks, and storing gold and silver was also inconvenient—a single antique could be worth as much as a cartload of silver. If you kept an antique in a box, it wouldn’t attract attention, but if you hauled a cart of silver away and the censors found out, you’d probably lose not only your official hat but your head as well.

Back to the main topic: as for this piece of broken ink, although it smells fragrant and looks antique, it’s just a small fragment, and there’s neither a signature nor any inscription on it. Even if it’s several decades or a hundred years old, it still wouldn’t fetch a good price.

“Broken ink isn’t worth much, and I’m buying it to use, not to collect,” David Carter said. Getting the most out of a small amount of money has been his principle since he came out. Otherwise, if he runs out of money, he really would be a hero brought down by a single penny. He might not know much about other antiques, but when it comes to brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones related to calligraphy and painting, he’s quite knowledgeable.

“Young man, I didn’t expect you to have the spirit of the ancients! With this piece of broken ink, it’ll be ten yuan for you,” the stall owner said in surprise. Nowadays, few young people write with a brush, and even fewer grind ink and write like the ancients. Now he understood why David Carter bought the blue brick—it seemed he wanted to use it as an inkstone.

But he had quite a few inkstones at his own stall, some of them quite well made, so why didn’t David Carter take a liking to any of them? Still, that was his business; he couldn’t decide for others. Besides, David Carter might not be able to afford his inkstones anyway.

“How about throwing in a brush?” David Carter asked. Without a brush, you can’t write, even with ink, paper, and an inkstone.

“Add another two yuan, then. First sale of the day, I won’t make any profit,” the stall owner replied.

David Carter didn’t haggle further. He picked a small wolf-hair brush with a short tip, paid, and got up to leave. He had agreed to meet Henry Brooks this morning at the same rice noodle shop as last night, and it was about time.

As David Carter was about to leave the antique street market, he suddenly remembered something and stopped in his tracks.

Chapter 8: Old Manuscripts of Nanyue

After arriving in Tanzhou yesterday, David Carter found Henry Brooks to be the first person he truly connected with. This time, Henry Brooks also helped him find a job. If it hadn’t been for Henry Brooks last night, he might have had to spend the night at the police station. Since someone had helped him, he naturally had to show his gratitude. Even if he didn’t have much to offer at the moment, he still had to express his thanks.

Ever since he bought that “Boy Bathing the Ox” figurine last night, David Carter realized he might have a special ability that others didn’t possess. From the moment he got off the train yesterday evening, the Tanzhou City Museum had been drawing him in, almost imperceptibly. Even though he only slept next to the museum last night, he felt unusually calm and at ease. That dream, so real yet so surreal, lingered in his mind.

David Carter thought to himself that if he could find a stable job in the future, he would definitely visit the museum often. The atmosphere there deeply attracted him, and he had a vague feeling that this place would change his life.

David Carter wandered around the stalls and saw a few things he liked, but when he picked them up, he didn’t get that comfortable feeling. Across the street, there was an antique market with some genuine antiques inside, but the prices were far beyond what David Carter could afford.

Suddenly, David Carter remembered the “Boy Bathing the Ox” figurine he bought yesterday. Although he liked it, it was clear that Henry Brooks was also interested in it. If he really couldn’t find anything else, he’d just give the figurine to Henry Brooks. As for its value, David Carter hadn’t really thought about it.

But just as David Carter was about to leave, he saw a young man riding a bicycle toward the area. As soon as he entered the square, he parked his bike, didn’t even bother to wipe the sweat from his face, and immediately started unloading.

Even while the man was still on his bike, David Carter had a special feeling about him. So as soon as the man parked, David Carter walked over. Coins, wooden items, porcelain, paintings—he had quite a variety. As soon as he put his things down, David Carter started looking through them. The man’s items were much better than those at other stalls; at least three out of every ten pieces gave him that special feeling. But David Carter wasn’t very interested in coins, wooden items, or porcelain.

But when he picked up a well-printed, well-preserved copy of the Old Manuscripts of Nanyue, the feeling was incredibly strong. It was as if the book had entered his mind all at once—he could “see” every page and every character in it with perfect clarity. David Carter knew a thing or two about books; the old man had shown him mostly thread-bound books since he was a child. Although he couldn’t judge the age or value, he knew this was something good.

David Carter flipped through the pages. The paper inside wasn’t bamboo or leather, but classic white hemp paper: the front was white and smooth, the back slightly rough, the texture even and tough.