The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

Chapter 136 A Rare Item (99% Rare)

After exchanging greetings, everyone paused for a moment. Zhang Chang'an, having just gotten up and having overworked his brain the night before, was still somewhat dazed.

It took him a moment to realize what was happening: "Don't stand there, come in and sit down."

The group then followed him into the house.

The living room isn't big, only a dozen square meters, just big enough for these people to stand in.

Chen Jianping didn't care at all and sat down on the sofa with a smile, while Xiao Li and Xiao Zhou, carrying suitcases, were a little reserved but not too bad.

Qin Zhengxue, however, seemed a bit stiff. Although he sat down, his gaze swept over the takeout boxes in the trash can and over the express delivery boxes in the corner, giving off a somewhat disoriented feeling.

"Mr. Zhang's place is quite down-to-earth." Director Chen still smiled warmly, but he really couldn't find anything to praise.

Zhang Chang'an took a few paper cups from the kitchen, poured water into them, and handed them over: "We just moved in not long ago, and haven't had time to unpack yet. Please excuse the mess."

Qin Zhengxue took the water but didn't drink it; he placed it on the coffee table. He sat very upright, looking out of place in the messy living room.

Chen Jianping, on the other hand, was very outgoing. Holding his water glass, he smiled and said, "Mr. Zhang, you are truly a young and promising man. When we received the information from customs, we never imagined that you would be such a talented young man."

Zhang Chang'an leaned against the wall and nodded: "Luckily, it was left by my ancestors."

"You're too modest," Chen Jianping said with a smile, waving his hand.

After exchanging pleasantries, the room fell silent for two seconds.

Zhang Chang'an sat opposite them and yawned. He was still a little dazed, mainly because he hadn't eaten anything since waking up and hadn't replenished his nutrition. The people in front of him didn't want to speak up, so finally, Director Chen, seeing that Zhang Chang'an didn't intend to get up, spoke up: "Um—Mr. Zhang, did someone go and get your things for you? Teacher Qin is in a bit of a rush, let's get down to business."

.

Zhang Chang'an scratched his head, straightened up, and thought, "Right, they came here to see the cultural relics."

"Okay, wait a moment, I'll go look for it."

He got up and went into the inner room, and the hall immediately fell silent.

Chen Jianping, holding a paper cup, sat on the sofa and looked at Qin Zhengxue with a smile.

Qin Zhengxue stood up, walked to the window with his hands behind his back, and looked at the old residential building outside. Downstairs, an old woman was airing out her quilts, using a bamboo pole to lift them and pat them down.

"Teacher Qin, please sit down." Chen Jianping patted the sofa next to him.

Qin Zhengxue didn't move, but turned his head and glanced at him: "Xiao Chen, tell me the truth, what exactly happened this time?"

Chen Jianping said somewhat helplessly, "Didn't I tell you? He's just a young guy, and the stuff he inherited from his family came in through customs."

"A family heirloom?" Qin Zhengxue interrupted him, his voice not loud but rather crisp: "Little Chen, I've worked at headquarters for forty years, what haven't I seen?"

"I'm not looking down on people. I've been in this line of work for a long time, and I've seen a lot of things. I have a general idea of ​​what kind of people are capable of in this country."

If you tell me which old collector has rosewood furniture in their house, and it takes my time to come and take a look, I'll come without hesitation.

.

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room: "This place, this young man, you think there's something good here? I don't come to the South often, and I don't stay long. Your provincial bureau made such a big fuss, specifically inviting me here, and this is all you get?"

He pointed out the window, then pointed inside: "How old is that kid? In his early twenties. He lives in a one-bedroom apartment."

Wearing flip-flops.

Director Chen, befitting his position, remained remarkably calm in the face of questioning from a bigwig like Qin Zhengxue: "Professor Qin, what are you saying? Can't young people have good things? It's something passed down from our ancestors."

"Let me take a look at the things when I bring them out. If it really doesn't work, I'll treat you to dinner tonight as an apology."

Qin Zhengxue didn't say anything more, only gently shook his head. The two juniors stood there stunned, looking at each other, neither daring to utter a sound.

The room fell silent again.

However, because it was so quiet, the atmosphere inside the room became increasingly strange.

No one was sure what to do. Soon, whether it was Qin Zhengxue who was standing or the others who were sitting, they all unconsciously looked through the narrow corridor and secretly glanced into the bedroom.

Zhang Chang'an was standing in the room, holding a plain, straight-bladed longsword that he had just casually picked up from the corner of the wall. The blade was still sheathed in a plain black scabbard, looking quite ordinary.

With his other hand, he rummaged through the table and pulled out a cloth bag from under some casually laid-out moisture-proof cloths. He shook it, and the cloth fell apart, revealing a slightly rusty gun head inside.

Although his movements seemed extremely hasty and casual, he managed to find the items. He picked one up in each hand and turned to walk back to the door.

Meanwhile, those people at the door, after looking around for a while, had unconsciously walked to the bedroom door.

He turned his head and saw them, and was taken aback for a moment: "Gentlemen, are you in such a hurry?"

Chen Jianping:

'

'

Qin Zhengxue:

'

'

He fell silent again, but his gaze was fixed intently on the two items in Zhang Chang'an's hands. He unconsciously raised his hand to adjust his glasses.

As a bigwig in the field of archaeology and cultural relics, his hands are usually extremely steady, but at this moment, they couldn't help but tremble slightly.

Zhang Chang'an, however, seemed oblivious to their expressions and calmly carried his things to the living room.

As they passed by, the two objects swept past Qin Zhengxue's eyes. His gaze followed the knife and the spearhead all the way into the living room.

Then, the group saw Zhang Chang'an casually place the knife on the coffee table.

"Snap!" Bingzi Jiaolin was pulled out just like that, the gleaming blade reflecting the indoor light.

Meanwhile, the cloth bag containing the dragonfly cutter was finally opened completely, and the extremely simple spearhead, along with the long knife beside it, lay quietly on the ordinary coffee table.

Qin Zhengxue's eyelids twitched. He took a deep breath, walked over, and squatted down beside the coffee table, his attitude becoming inexplicably reserved and his movements appearing inexplicably cautious.

He slightly raised his hand, but didn't touch it directly. Instead, he gestured to his two assistants beside him.

The two younger men immediately understood his meaning from his actions and took out a pair of white gloves from the box they were carrying.

Qin Zhengxue took it and carefully began to guide it, making sure that each finger was completely smoothed out.

Zhang Chang'an's reaction was completely the opposite of his; he didn't stop moving.

Because Bingzi Jiaolin was easy to preserve and carry, he stuffed her into a plain-looking container.

To determine the identity of this object, there is one indispensable detail.

"Click!" Zhang Chang'an casually and skillfully tapped the blade out of the hilt, revealing the inscribed root of the blade.

Teacher Qin had just finished putting on his gloves when, watching his movements, his hands trembled violently, and it seemed that a little cold sweat had already seeped out from his forehead.

"Mr. Zhang, may I... take a look at it?"

Upon hearing this, Zhang Chang'an noticed Qin Zhengxue, who was crouching behind him, extremely reserved: "Why did you crouch down?"

He quickly placed the Bingzi pepper grove on the table and then immediately stepped aside, saying, "Please feel free to look around."

Qin Zhengxue then approached the table and carefully, with both hands, slowly picked up the knife blade.

His expression was not only extremely serious, but his emotions were also quite sincere.

Shock.

Just looking at it, Zhang Chang'an could already hear the voice in his head: "Hmm, 99% chance—a rare find."