William Thompson’s heart skipped a beat when he heard the price Edward Clark shouted. Just now, he had only offered one hundred and fifty, and finally settled at fifty. Now, hearing Edward Clark call out five thousand, it felt like a knife had stabbed his heart, blood gushing out.

“Even for fifty thousand, I wouldn’t sell it. This isn’t about money.” David Carter stopped in his tracks, turned around, and said. Indeed, he was in a very tight financial situation—he had spent seventy last night, plus fifty now, and had barely over a hundred left. But that still couldn’t make him cash in this book, because through Edward Clark, he had basically confirmed that he seemed to have a special sense for valuable antiques.

Watching David Carter stride away with determination, Edward Clark was filled with regret, stomping his feet and pounding his chest. If only he had come earlier, if only he had offered a higher price before, maybe William Thompson would have handed over this old Nanyue manuscript to him. But now it was too late; judging by David Carter’s demeanor, he definitely wouldn’t let it go.

But when he shouted “Five thousand!” just now, it had already attracted the attention of others. In the antique market, the fastest-spreading and most envy-inducing stories are always about someone scoring a huge bargain. Although finding such treasures takes sharp eyes, financial power, intelligence, and luck, even if it happens only once in ten thousand times, it becomes a hot topic for everyone.

“Boss Clark, what kind of bargain did that guy just score?” Someone who knew Edward Clark immediately came over to ask.

“Judging by the book’s condition and material, could it be a Song dynasty edition?”

“There’s no such thing as Song editions nowadays, at most Qing dynasty reprints.”

……

Everyone had their own opinions, talking all at once, which made Edward Clark even more frustrated. He ignored the crowd, clasped his hands behind his back, and strolled back to his shop, not even wanting to browse the morning market anymore.

Chapter 10: Heaven-Defying Luck

Although Edward Clark didn’t explain to anyone, the news that a Song edition book had been discovered in the antique market—and that someone had scored a bargain—spread like wildfire. Anyone in the business heard about it immediately. David Carter picked up the old Nanyue manuscript and left; as for the legendary story circulating in the market, he didn’t hear a word of it.

When David Carter walked into the same rice noodle shop as yesterday, Henry Brooks hadn’t arrived yet. David Carter found an empty table and waited patiently. He took out the half brick he had just bought, poured a little water on it, and took out some leftover ink, quickly grinding it into ink. He pulled out a sheet of paper, trimmed it, pondered for a moment, and with a draft in mind, his brush moved as if guided by inspiration, quickly finishing his writing.

Just as David Carter finished putting away his brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, and placed his résumé at the edge of the table, he saw Henry Brooks walk in, his face glowing with health. Grace Brooks was with him; without her police uniform, she wore a fitted T-shirt and a floral short skirt, looking both fashionable and cute.

“Grandpa Brooks, this way please.” David Carter quickly stood up and said with a smile.

“Xiao Yu, I was delayed at the antique market just now. Oh, what’s that?” As soon as Henry Brooks walked over, he noticed the sheet of paper hanging by the table. At a glance, he thought the calligraphy was quite good.

“My résumé.” David Carter hurriedly took the paper down and respectfully handed it to Henry Brooks.

“The brushwork is bold and free, vigorous and powerful. Xiao Yu, I didn’t expect you to have such fine calligraphy.” Henry Brooks looked at the writing before the content. He hadn’t expected David Carter’s brushwork to be this good; without more than a decade of practice, it would be impossible to write like this. Nowadays, even middle-aged people rarely have such skill.

Grace Brooks also glanced at it. Although she had learned brush calligraphy since childhood, she knew she wasn’t at this level. Last night, her impression of David Carter was just that of a martial artist. She also thought David Carter must have used a weapon, otherwise there wouldn’t have been such serious injuries. Plus, David Carter’s attitude last night had left her rather displeased. But now, she suddenly felt that his attitude last night was actually calm and dignified. People are like this—when they realize they’re outdone in some area, their perception quietly changes.

“Grandpa Brooks, do you think this résumé is okay?” David Carter asked humbly. With the development of computer technology, résumés are now usually printed; handwritten ones like his are rare. He was still confident in his calligraphy—he used to write for fun when he had nothing to do. Now that he had something suitable, he picked it up again.

“No problem, absolutely no problem. I’ve already made arrangements. I’ll take you to the interview in a bit. If all goes well, you can officially start work tomorrow.” Henry Brooks said. Before leaving home this morning, he had already mentioned David Carter to the deputy director of the Tanzhou City Museum, Brian Brooks, who was also his son. Being a museum security guard, and a temp at that, wasn’t exactly a coveted job. If it didn’t work out, they could let him go at any time.

“Thank you, Grandpa Brooks.” David Carter quickly stood up and bowed.

“Xiao Yu, last night I thought you’d scored a nice little bargain. But this morning, there’s even bigger news in the antique market.” Henry Brooks said. On his way here, he had purposely passed by the antique market and heard that someone had bought a Song dynasty printed book for fifty yuan. That find was much bigger than the one David Carter got last night.