The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

Chapter 135 The Relaxing Feeling of Drinking Tea with Cultural Relics

Zhang Chang'an suddenly opened his eyes. The fluorescent lights in the photography studio made his eyes sting. He gasped for breath, and his body moved instinctively, instantly leaping five or six meters forward.

Once he regained his composure, a large amount of cold sweat immediately broke out on his forehead and back.

He was still in the studio, but the scene from the fragments of memory was still lingering in his mind.

Facing Honda Tadakatsu, who was almost at full strength, he fought back with all his might. The Rokujin Gun was indeed powerful. Despite his poor equipment and the disadvantage of being outmatched by horses, he managed to exchange a few blows with the peerless warrior from the East.

However, the limitations of the memory space were much greater than he had imagined. Because his cultivation level was not high enough, he could not materialize proper equipment from fragments of higher cultivation levels than himself. With his current abilities, he simply could not solve the problem.

"Phew—" Zhang Chang'an took a deep breath and calmly picked up his coat from the ground: "No rush—there are still many things to deal with. My abilities still have a lot of room for improvement."

He dragged his still-weak legs and plopped down on a small stool in the studio. He picked up his phone from the table and glanced at the time.

Memory space is, after all, a concrete manifestation of thought, and the flow of time there is slightly faster than in reality. However, it is not manipulating time and space, so time in reality is still slightly altered.

It was already past midnight, and it was still dark outside.

He closed his eyes, took a breath, and prepared to rest for a while before going back to sleep.

Suddenly, the phone I was holding vibrated.

"Penguin Mail? What kind of things are sent via email these days?"

He clicked on it with some doubt.

Title: Communication regarding the cooperation and exchange of two cultural relics, "Bingzi Jiaolin" and "Qingtingqie".

Dear Mr. Zhang Chang'an,

First, please allow us to extend our sincere greetings to you.

Recently, our organization learned through customs records of cultural relics entering the country that you have legally inherited two cultural relics of great historical value: the "Bingzi Jiaolin" knife and the "Qingtingqie" spearhead.

Preliminary investigations indicate that these two artifacts are important physical objects that have been repatriated from overseas, and are of extraordinary significance.

According to the relevant provisions of the laws and regulations of the Celestial Empire, your ownership of these two cultural relics is beyond doubt.

Our organization is writing to express our hope to establish friendly communication with you and to discuss the recording of cultural relics and even possible future cooperation.

If it is convenient for you, our organization would like to send a representative to visit you in person to express our respect and discuss relevant matters.

"Looking forward to your reply."

"Guangdong Provincial Museum & Guangdong Cultural Relics Bureau"

Zhang Chang'an stared at the email for three seconds without much emotional reaction. He just glanced at the studio he was in and said, "Things are getting better for us. We can even talk to these big government officials about cooperation now."

Zhang Chang'an was woken up by his phone alarm, which was buzzing under his pillow, giving him a headache. He fumbled for his phone several times with his eyes closed before finally pulling it out and squinting at the time: "11:55."

Missed calls: 5.

"WeChat messages: a dozen or so."

The latest message was from the local cultural relics bureau and the leader he was in contact with: "Mr. Zhang, we have already set off and will arrive at your place around noon. Is that convenient?"

Zhang Chang'an stared at the message for three seconds. Then he suddenly sat up.

"Oh no! The appointment was for today!"

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Zhang Chang'an seemed to have overestimated his recovery ability.

The day after receiving the notification, he tried to digest the fragments again. He had been busy all day, and even though he was only mentally exhausted, he was still completely drained. He took a shower and lay down on the bed.

I was planning to tidy up after I woke up. I didn't expect it to be this late when I woke up.

Today is the day he arranged with the Cultural Relics Bureau.

He threw his phone on the bed, rubbed his face with both hands, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

The sun shone brightly outside the window, and the faint sounds of children playing and the horn of a scrap metal tricycle could be heard downstairs. There were no shouts of battle, no gunfire, no creaking of the Nightingale floorboards, and no thunderous crash of horses' hooves.

It was just an ordinary, peaceful weekend morning.

For some reason, after listening for a while, he stopped being in a hurry and sat on the bed in his underwear, lost in thought: "Modern life is too comfortable, people have become lazy. But thinking about it carefully, I've seen scenes like those in Kyoto and London, so there's really nothing to panic about."

Zhang Chang'an smiled, got out of bed, casually put on a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and slipped barefoot into flip-flops. He walked into the living room and glanced around.

It's alright. Not too messy. I put the takeout boxes in the trash can and tidied up the clothes, but other than that, the delivery boxes in the corner don't really matter.

He scratched his head and then went to wash his face.

I was only halfway through washing my clothes when my phone rang again.

He wiped his hands and answered the call.

"Feed?"

"Mr. Zhang? This is Xiao Chen from the Cultural Relics Bureau. We're downstairs. Would you mind coming up if it's convenient?"

"Okay, come on up. Sixth floor, room 601."

After hanging up the phone, Zhang Chang'an slowly walked to the door, opened it, and leaned against the door frame to wait.

Footsteps soon echoed in the hallway, and several figures turned the corner and came up.

The man in front was in his forties, slightly overweight, wearing a short-sleeved shirt, carrying a briefcase, and had a smile on his face.

He was followed by a man and a woman, both in their early twenties or thirties, carrying instrument cases and other similar items.

He looks like an assistant.

The last one, around fifty or sixty years old, was wearing a light gray Tang suit. His hair was gray but neatly combed. He wasn't carrying anything in his hand, but he didn't look like an ordinary person.

The light swept across the hallway, past the little GG on the wall, and finally landed on Zhang Chang'an, after which his eyes showed a hint of blankness and confusion.

"Mr. Zhang! Oh, Mr. Zhang, I've finally met you in person!"

The slightly overweight middle-aged man walked over in a few steps, reached out and shook Zhang Chang'an's hand warmly.

"I'm Chen Jianping from the Provincial Cultural Relics Bureau. I contacted you before. These are Xiao Li and Xiao Zhou from our bureau, helping to take notes."

Chen Jianping spoke casually, but because they had interacted before, Zhang Chang'an knew that he was a director-level figure from the Cultural Relics Bureau: "This shows that they value me quite a bit."

Director Chen quickly released his hand, then stepped aside and introduced the elderly man behind him: "This is Professor Qin from the General Administration, a national-level expert specializing in ancient weaponry. He happens to be attending a conference in Guangdong, and we thought it was a rare opportunity, so we invited Professor Qin to come and take a look."

Qin Zhengxue nodded slightly, then withdrew the light from the stairwell and focused it on Zhang Chang'an.

First, she glanced at his dark circles under his eyes, then swept her gaze down at his T-shirt and flip-flops. Although he kept his expression straight, he was still twitching slightly.

"Hello, Mr. Zhang," Qin Zhengxue said in a low voice, his accent clearly from the north. "Excuse me."

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