Rebirth Picking Leaks Started in 1992

Chapter 441

The old man in the room was silent for a moment, then coughed rapidly for a while.

"Wait."

Jiang Yuan waited for several minutes.

The door was finally opened and light poured into the room. The old man couldn't help but squint his eyes and raised his hand to block the sunlight.

His face was full of wrinkles, his brows were knitted together, there was no color on his face, and his complexion looked very pale.

Jiang Yuan knew that this was because the old man was in poor health and often stayed in the house without seeing the sun.

The old man looked at Jiang Yuan's dress, nodded and said:

"You don't look like an ordinary shoveler. Why, have you fallen in love with my old house?"

Jiang Yuan knew that the old man was talking about the red rosewood above his head.

Jiang Yuan smiled and said, "If you always sell it, I will take it."

The old man did not answer, nor did he invite Jiang Yuan to sit in the room.

In fact, even standing at the door, Jiang Yuan could smell the smell emanating from the house.

It is a musty smell that is not ventilated all year round, and is also mixed with the smell of Chinese medicine, which makes people feel breathless.

The old man slowly adapted to the sunshine, staggered to the middle of the yard, and sat down on a stone pier.

Jiang Yuan sat down on the stone pillar opposite him and asked with a smile:

"How's it going, sir? Do you have something to sell?"

In fact, Jiang Yuan prefers to deal with such knowledgeable people.

After all, what they have in their hands are all high-quality products.

It may cost a little more money, but as long as you get a good product, it's worth it.

The uncle began to think deeply, sighing from time to time and looking at the room.

Jiang Yuan also subconsciously took a look and made sure there was another person inside.

That was an old woman, she should be the old man's wife, but her health seemed to be worse than the old man's, and she could only stay in bed, looking like she was dying.

Jiang Yuan couldn't help but feel a little sympathetic, and subconsciously asked:

"Uncle, do you have any children?"

I don't know if these words offended the old man. He looked at Jiang Yuan with some displeasure, then walked to another room and took out a cigarette rod and some tobacco leaves.

Jiang Yuan used a lighter to light it for him, and then persuaded him:

"If you are not in good health, you should smoke less."

"You don't need a young man

"Teach me," the old man snorted, "Let's get down to business."

"If it weren't for a little money, I would have kicked you out."

Jiang Yuan nodded awkwardly, "That's rude of me. Don't blame me, old man."

The old man took a puff of dry cigarette and couldn't help coughing violently for a while.

In that room, a faint reminder finally sounded:

"Old man, take a few puffs less."

"I got it, stop talking and have a good rest," the old man responded, then he simply knocked off the remaining tobacco leaves in the pot and put the tobacco stem back in the utility room.

"Let's go and take you to see my things."

The old man stood up on his knees and walked towards the courtyard door, intending to go out.

Jiang Yuan didn't ask any more questions and followed the old man for almost five minutes until he reached the back of the courtyard.

This is a small alleyway, only about one meter wide. Not to mention it is damp. There is a lot of garbage on the ground. The stinky ditch exudes a pungent smell. There is even a frightened rat that ran past Jiang Yuan.

The old man suddenly stopped, squatted down and lifted up a few bricks on the side of the road, and took out an iron box tightly wrapped in a plastic bag from a small pit.

This iron box is about the same size as a lunch box.

Jiang Yuan could tell at a glance that although the box was small, it contained a lot of things.

There are several seals, a dozen ancient coins, a small inkstone, and a writing brush.

The old man returned home with the iron box, and Jiang Yuan followed him through the door without saying a word.

The two sat on the stone pier in the middle of the yard again.

The old man opened the iron box and stroked it with his hands reluctantly.

Jiang Yuan could see that although these seals were not as good as the top-quality Tianhuang seals in his collection, they were still rare treasures.

There are more than a dozen ancient coins, all of which are very rare in existence. If Mr. Wang Dayou sees them, he will definitely be very excited.

As for the square inkstone, if Jiang Yuan saw it correctly, it should be the 'Duan Inkstone' that is hard to find.

This 'Duan Inkstone' is also the most valuable item in the iron box.

Jiang Yuan's favorite thing is a brush in the box.

The old man sighed at this time and said:

"My old lady is seriously ill."

"I can only sell you one of these things. Which one do you want?"

I heard that I can only buy one piece.

Jiang Yuan couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, but he also expressed his understanding. After all, a real collector treats his collection like his own child, and would not want to sell it unless he had to.

Jiang Yuan pointed to the brush in the box, "I like this one."

This writing brush is dark brown all over, has thick coating, is about 20 centimeters long, and consists of two parts: the barrel and the cap.

The material of the brush is bamboo, with shallow carvings of flowers and birds all over the body. The flowers seem to be competing in the wind, and even the heart and stamens are painted extremely delicately and clearly. There are also vivid birds flying among the flowers, making it look very lively and lively.

The carvings are very organized, and you can tell that they were made by everyone.

Moreover, at the end of the pen barrel, there is a line of inscriptions arranged vertically, which is a six-character regular script: Ming Dynasty Wanzhen Year System.

According to the naming rules of the antique circle, this writing brush should be called: Ming Wanli Bamboo Flower and Bird Pattern Writing Brush.

Such a writing brush would fetch millions of dollars at an auction in later generations.

This value may be nothing compared to Jiang Yuan's other collections.

But among the collections of calligraphy brushes, they are almost top-notch.

The uncle thought for a while and said directly:

"Don't even think about picking up the slack here. I won't make any random bids."

"Twenty thousand, I'd like you to take it."

Jiang Yuan nodded, this price is basically the current market price.

Jiang Yuan decisively wrote the check and put the writing brush into his pocket.

The old man immediately put away the other things.

Just as Jiang Yuan was about to leave, he heard the old man calling him.

"This yard is about to be demolished. The beams are all red rosewood branches as big as bowls. Do you want them?"

Jiang Yuan thought for a moment and realized that Siamese rosewood is a good wood. It can be used for making furniture or turning beads to make bracelets.

However, in that case, it still needs processing, which is more troublesome.

It will also take time to find someone to dismantle it, load it into a truck, and transport it back to Binhai.

The uncle seemed to have noticed Jiang Yuan's concerns, "Don't forget it, I'll find someone to look at it later."

Jiang Yuan looked at the old man in the room again, nodded and said:

"How much do you want to sell it for?"

"Thirty thousand," the uncle said slowly:

“I’m not trying to make money, I just feel it’s a waste.”

"The demolition workers didn't know what they were doing. As soon as the machines came in, they probably smashed them and buried them in the ground."