Siheyuan: tomb robbing? I am serious about hunting.

But second sister-in-law, you have to be more careful when applying fertilizer in the future. First figure out how to apply it and how much to apply. Don't make such a joke again. It will not only cause trouble for yourself, but also affect the relationship with the neighbors. "Second sister-in-law Liu nodded repeatedly, with a shameful expression on her face: "You are right, Xiaoju, I will remember it, and I will pay attention to it in the future. "After she finished speaking, she shouldered her bamboo basket and hurried home, fearing that something would go wrong again. Lin Xiaoju looked at Liu Ersao's hurriedly leaving figure and shook her head helplessly. She picked up the hoe on the ground, returned to her own responsibility field, and continued to plow the soil. The sun was still bright, and the fields were full of vitality. Occasionally, there were a few birds singing. Everything was so peaceful and beautiful. While plowing the soil, Lin Xiaoju thought to herself that although life in the countryside was dull and there were not as many new things as in the city, there were always so many funny and heartwarming things. Neighbors occasionally had some minor conflicts, but they would reconcile in a blink of an eye, helping each other and understanding each other. Although such days were hard, they were also full of fun, making people feel at ease and warm. She swung the hoe and plowed the soil harder, her heart full of hope for the future. Chen Yan's fingertips were still stained with the museum's The greasy touch of the undried restoration glue still lingered in the lines of his fingertips - he was just leaning over to fill the final gap on the Han Dynasty bronze sword in the display case. The moment the nano-level restoration glue held by the tweezers touched the green rust on the sword, the constant temperature lamp above his head suddenly flashed three times, and the dazzling white light made him close his eyes subconsciously. When he opened his eyes again, everything around him had been turned upside down. The constant temperature and humidity restoration room that was originally filled with disinfectant and the old smell of cultural relics disappeared, replaced by a leaky adobe house. The cold wind came in from the cracks in the wall, carrying the chill of late autumn, and it blew on his face like fine needles gently pricking him. He moved his fingers, and felt a rough touch under him. He looked down and found that he was lying on a hard bed covered with hay. The hay still had a damp smell that was not completely dried, mixed with the fishy smell of soil, which entered his nostrils, and it was exactly the same as the constant smell in the museum in his memory. The 22°C room temperature formed a sharp contrast. His ears were no longer filled with the soft sounds of repair tools colliding, but with the barking of dogs outside the yard. The barking was sometimes rapid and sometimes low, occasionally interspersed with the shouts of women, the sounds of children playing, and the "clattering" of mules and horses walking across the stone road in the distance - these fresh and unfamiliar sounds, like a fine net, wrapped him tightly in the perception that "this is not modern times." He took a deep breath, and the air was filled with not only the smell of soil, but also the faint scent of wood ash. Perhaps the people outside the yard were cooking on the stove. The smoke, although simple, made his heart shrink suddenly - he was really not in the familiar world anymore. . Chen Yan supported himself with his arms and tried to sit up. As soon as his elbows touched the bed board, there was a crisp "creak" sound. The bed board seemed to be about to fall apart at any time, which made him subconsciously slow down his movements. He looked around. The adobe house was very small. Apart from a hard bed, there was only a wooden table with a missing leg and supported by stones. On the table was a chipped pottery bowl with some brown porridge stains on the bottom of the bowl. There were several bundles of dry firewood piled in the corner, and a few straws scattered next to the firewood. In the whole room, only the wild chrysanthemums in the broken pottery jar on the windowsill showed a bit of life. At this moment, his eyes fell on the wooden table - there was a familiar He saw an object that shocked his heart: a bronze sword broken into two pieces. The sword was covered with dark green rust, and in some places the rust had peeled off, revealing the dark copper underneath. What was most familiar to him was the broken end of the sword, the irregular knock marks, and the slight metal curling on the edge. It was exactly the same as the Han Dynasty bronze sword he had repaired overtime last night! He could even clearly recognize that the shallow mark on the sword near the hilt was accidentally left during the archaeological excavation. At that time, he had specially marked the angle and depth of the mark in the repair notes. "How could it be..." Chen Yan muttered to himself, his voice a little hoarse. He stretched out his hand to think He tried to touch the sword, and just as his fingertips were about to touch the scabbard, there was a sudden "clang" sound from outside the door. The wooden door was kicked open from the outside, and wood chips fell down. Two burly men in coarse cloth shorts walked in. They were tall and broad-shouldered. Their shorts were washed white, and the cuffs and trouser legs were frayed. They had thick hemp ropes tied around their waists, and a short knife was attached to the ropes. The burly man walking in front had a hideous scar on his forehead, extending from his left brow to his jaw. After he entered the room, his eyes swept across the room and finally fell on Chen Yan. His eyes were as sharp as an eagle, with undisguised hostility. "It was you, kid, who stole the master's heirloom sword! "The scarred man roared deafeningly, the anger in his voice almost bursting through the roof. He took a step forward and grabbed Chen Yan's arm with his rough palm. The force was so great that Chen Yan felt as if his arm was clamped by an iron clamp, and his bones were aching slightly. "You want to hide your sword even though it's broken? Come with us to see the county magistrate! "Another taller and thinner strong man also came over, with contempt in his eyes, and reached out to grab the broken sword on the table. Chen Yan struggled subconsciously. He didn't understand the situation yet, and he must not be taken away like this. But he stayed in the restoration room all year round, and his physical strength was far inferior to those of these two strong men who did rough work all year round. While struggling, his palm accidentally covered the broken end of the bronze sword. The moment his palm touched the sword body, a cool metallic chill spread along his palm, like an electric current running through his body. Then, Chen Yan's eyes suddenly fell into darkness, and the barking of dogs and the roar of the strong man in his ears disappeared, replaced by silence, with only the faint sound of the wind echoing in his ears. The next second, a picture slowly unfolded before his eyes-it was a drowsy night, the moon was covered by dark clouds, and only a few faint moonlight shone into the room through the window lattice Room. An oil lamp was burning in the room, and the dim light flickered, illuminating the face of a middle-aged man in a brocade robe. The man had a solemn expression, his brows were twisted into a ball, and he held a hammer in his hand, smashing it hard at the bronze sword in front of him. "We must not let this sword fall into the hands of Wang," the man's voice was full of gritted teeth and determination, and every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth. The moment the hammer fell, the sword made a crisp "click" sound and broke into two pieces. The scene suddenly changed, and the man in the brocade robe turned around to get the cloth on the table, trying to wipe the debris on the sword. At this moment, a dark shadow flashed out from behind the door. The man was thin, wearing dark shorts, with a black cloth covering his face, revealing only a pair of eyes flashing with cunning light. The black shadow took advantage of the man in the brocade robe not paying attention, quietly picked up the broken sword on the ground, and walked quickly to the corner of the wood room.