Female Novel
Chapter 1362 Antiques
“What dream? Tell it to me.” Abel’s voice sounded somewhat nervous.
“I dreamt that I was beneath a deep cliff, unable to find you, and when I called you, the call wouldn’t gothrough.”
Abel fell silent for a moment before asking, “What does that mean?”
“How should I know?” Emmeline said: “But, Abel, does it mean that one day, I won’t be able to findyou?”
“That won’t happen, Emma. I’m here, and I’ll always be here.”
Emmeline only had one lesson the following day, so she took half a day off and boarded the bus to thecity.
Paul’s words had been lingering in her mind. She pondered that starting a clothing business might begood idea.
She went to the department store and explored a newly established commercial pedestrian street.
The city’s department store had once been so magnificent, but now it was desolate and quiet, and theonce haughty salespeople were now gathered in small groups, snacking and chatting.
In their conversations, she could tell they were discussing the topic of employees voluntarily rentingstalls and starting their own businesses.
On the pillars at the department store’s entrance were advertisements for external renting.
Emmeline checked it twice; the contact person was surnamed Chester, and she noted down the phonenumber.
On both sides of the pedestrian street, shops lined up in a row. Clothing, shoes, bags, cosmetics-allkinds of businesses were thriving.
Emmeline walked and observed, entering a few clothing stores, pretending to haggle, and studying themarket conditions.
After half a day, she began to have some ideas in her mind..
Further down the pedestrian street, the crowd was bustling, and traffic was congested. It was the city’slong-distance bus station. A large group of people had gathered at the corner of the intersection, and itseemed like they were in the midst of a fight, with shouts and arguments emanating from the crowd.
“Just smash it! Can’t believe he’s trying to scam people!
“Smash it!”
“Pay up! If you don’t pay, we’ll smash it to pieces!”novelbin
“Sir, we discussed this face-to-face that day. I’ve collected these antiques from antique markets all overthe country. Whether they’re real or fake, I don’t even know rasped an elderly man.
“Scam is scam! Stop making excuses!”
“Sir, I’m not trying to scam anyone. It’s broad daylight we should speak with a clear conscience. I can’tauthenticate whether these antiques are real or fake. We’re doing a cash-on-delivery deal. If I sell it ata loss, I’ll admit it, and if you buy it at a loss, you should admit it too. Moreover, if you can buy agenuine antique for sixty bucks and later sell it for 1.8 million, would you come back to give me mymoney? That’s how the market works. One is willing to buy, and the other is willing to sell. You shouldunderstand that.”
“Get lost! I don’t understand; all I know is I paid sixty bucks and bought two clay jars! They say you canget them for three bucks each in the wholesale market, and you’re selling them for sixty! Claimingthey’re from the Early Modern Period, what a load of nonsense!”
“Smash it! Beat him!”
Crash, bang, clatter!
A series of plates, bowls, dishes, and jars breaking, accompanied by the hoarse cries of an elderlyman, echoed under the scorching sun.
After the frenzied smashing and beating, the instigators quickly dispersed, leaving only a few onlookersscattered around. The elderly man selling antiques sat on the ground, sobbing pitifully, his face andarms. scraped.
Most of the exquisite items on the tarp were now damaged. It was a heart-wrenching scene, and thecrowd sighed in sympathy.
“How much are these things worth?” a middle-aged man crouched down, examining the fragments ofporcelain and pottery.
“It’s hard to say. The cost was around two to three thousand, but whether they’re valuable or not, whoknows if there are real antiques among them? I’m relatively new to this industry, with little experienceand poor appraisal skills. Just trying to make a living.”
“This industry is booming in the south now. People like you, who quietly scavenge for treasures, canbecome hidden millionaires.”
“It’s not that easy. I’ve invested my life savings in this. I have to beg for food to go back home,” the oldman cried again.
The middle-aged man took out several hundred bills from his wallet and handed them to the old man.
“I work at the department store at the other end of the street. Chester. If you need help, come find me.”
The old man got up and nodded vigorously, then hurriedly picked up a few copper coins from thescattered fragments and handed them to him. “I don’t have much else, but here, consider it a token ofappreciation and a keepsake.”
The man accepted the copper coins, smiled, and nodded. “Alright, I’ll keep it as a keepsake.”