Celestial Masters Alliance

How I hope everything can be settled here, and we can go back to normal life when Mu Mu wakes up.

A series of exclamations came from the TV, which caught my attention. A treasure appraisal program was playing. On the treasure appraisal table was a large blue and white porcelain jar that was identified as authentic by experts. The price of the jar's recent auction price was marked below. Four Ten million.

I have never come into contact with antiques, but I am just greedy for those 40 million. The owner of the jar began to talk about the origin of the jar: "This jar was originally painted with vermilion paint inside and outside, and was discarded in the corner of the vegetable cellar in my hometown. Later I bought a house in the city and gave birth to a child. The child died. I had no choice but to bother my mother to come to the city to help. When I was moving and sorting out the debris, I brought this jar up from the cellar and was about to throw it away. A bottle of turpentine happened to be spilled and a piece of paint on the side of the jar was soaked off. , and then I realized that it was not a broken jar, but actually blue and white porcelain..."

Experts explained: "There was a period of time when the common people did not live in peace. They were afraid that their ancestral belongings would be robbed, so they came up with a way to cover the inside and outside of the porcelain with vermilion lacquer. Save and move..."

I was not in the mood to listen to what the expert said anymore, so I threw myself in front of the TV and stared at the big blue and white porcelain jar. This shape seemed like I had seen it somewhere before...

I rushed to the balcony in a panic, almost forgetting to breathe. The red lacquer jar left by my grandma is still placed on the balcony. After so many things, it has long been forgotten by me. I gently touched the jar and touched the blackened paint with my nails. The paint was applied very thickly and there was no trace of it. The traces of weathering and dryness must have been repainted before grandma handed it over to eldest grandma.

By the way, turpentine. That person just mentioned turpentine! I quickly changed my shoes and ran downstairs. Decoration City is only one street away from my home. When I came back carrying ten bottles of turpentine, my shirt was soaked.

I casually changed my clothes, put on rubber gloves, opened the nine bottles of turpentine, poured it into Maomao's bathtub, and then soaked the jar horizontally. I couldn't wait to take a towel and dip it in the turpentine and wipe the jar vigorously, covering the small area I wiped. , the jar finally revealed its true face - blue and white porcelain.

I sat down on the ground, my heart beating wildly. It turned out that my grandma did not leave a kimchi jar for me for no reason.

The wood can be saved, and our home can be saved too!

The outside of the jar gradually revealed its true appearance under my wiping, but the inside was a bit difficult to deal with. I had to fully extend my arm into the jar. The mouth of the jar always touched the wound with my movements, so I could only wipe it for a while and stop, and the towel came out of the jar. A dirty rope came out of it, huh? This seems to be the one that was originally tied to the jade lock. I remember that after I got the jade lock back, I put it on Maomao’s neck. Later, because the rope got tangled with the hair on Maomao’s neck, I cut it off and threw it in. In the jar.

Thinking of Maomao, I felt a burst of sadness, the tears that finally fell, the tail that was able to swing slightly with all my strength, the pupils that gradually lost their luster after the anesthetic was injected, and when I thought of this, my eardrums actually felt bulging.

I shook my head vigorously to get the image of Maomao out of my mind. I watched the original red rope in my hand lose its color under the turpentine soaking, like a weathered rag, and the knots were scattered and stretched. I took it out of the turpentine with two fingers, balled it up in the palm of my hand, squeezed out the turpentine and prepared to throw it into the trash can. Suddenly, the feather arrows coiled on my wrist and the gentian on my fingers glowed at the same time. .

what's the situation? I unrolled the tattered rope again and found that it was covered with dark gold lettering. Is there any mystery behind this broken rope? I put it in turpentine again and scrubbed it carefully. The more I washed the rag, the thinner it became, and the color faded and became lighter. I opened the last bottle of turpentine and poured it into a large bowl, then put the rag in for a final and thorough cleaning. , it also showed its true colors.

The light yellow cloth was made of an unknown material. It was as thin as a cicada's wings and held no weight in my hand. It was covered with dense golden fonts, glyphs I had never seen before. These words are neither embroidered with gold thread nor written on them. They appear between the yellow cloth, as misty as smoke.

What's this? Did my biological mother know there was something fishy about this rope when she handed it to me?

At this time, the alarm clock rang, and it was the time I had set for my shift change with Mao Yingnan. Due to a lack of funds, I had no money to hire a caregiver. Fortunately, Mao Yingnan helped me take care of it, so I had some time to rest.

I quickly found a piece of paper and imitated the three slightly larger gold characters on the top of the yellow cloth, then put it into a sealed bag and hid it under the sofa. Although I was grateful for what Mao Yingnan had done for me, Her origins forced me to be on guard against her. Asking her about the rope might help me find the answer faster, but the risk is also too great for me to predict.

Then I called Mao Yingnan. She was a little surprised when she received my call. During these days, although we got along well, we seldom communicated: "Zhu Mo?" There was uncertainty in her voice. This phone was just bought. I bought it for her when I got home. At that time, there were only two numbers saved in my phone, one was that of Mu Mu's attending doctor, and the other was me.

"Yeah! It's me!" I don't know why I was suddenly a little nervous and at a loss for words.

Mao Yingnan paused for a while, and seeing that I didn't speak, he resolved the embarrassment and said, "Everything is normal here at the hospital. Mu Mu is in good health, don't worry."

"Thank you!" I said these words with great piety, and I was grateful to her from the bottom of my heart. Mao Yingnan is conscientious in taking care of Mu Mu. Most patients like Mu Mu suffer from sluggish blood due to long-term lying down, so Mao Yingnan can turn him over every half hour and give him a full body massage every two hours. , nurses and doctors all lamented that Mu Mu has a good wife. Since the last time I told Bai Xue that Mao Yingnan was my wife, Mao Yingnan introduced herself as Mu Mu's sister-in-law, and it was her duty to take care of her family. I really don't know how to deal with this.

"I won't be going to the hospital these days. I have to find a way to raise some funds. Can you..." Because I had nothing to offer in return, I felt guilty every time I opened my mouth to her.

"Have you thought of a way? I can..." She knew that I was in trouble, and she was always looking for opportunities to talk to me these days. I had already troubled her, so how could I open my mouth to borrow money from her again, so I kept avoiding her.

"I can raise a lot of money, but it will take a few days. Could you please take care of the wood more these days? I won't bother you when I find a caregiver later." I quickly interrupted her, feeling a little ruthless. said.

"Zhu Mo, can I stay with you?" Mao Yingnan said cautiously, for fear that I would say decisive words again, and the voice was distressing.

It's hard for me to answer this question. Yes, I do need someone around me to help take care of the wood. Mao Yingnan is Duan Lingchao's right-hand man. If she stays, I will plant a time bomb around me. But is there anyone around me who can help? ? well! It would be nice if the trumpet speaker was here at this moment: "Let's talk about it when I get back!" I hung up the phone in a hurry, looking like I had no future.