I was a rookie reporter in the 00s

Zhang Wanqing took a deep breath, her eyes determined. She would protect the antique shop and these secrets until the last moment.

At this moment, the door of the antique shop was pushed open again, and Feng Xi and Xiao Yu walked in with a few strangers. A hint of surprise flashed in Zhang Wanqing's eyes, but when she saw the determination on their faces, a warm current surged in her heart.

"Wanqing, we are back." Fengxi's voice was firm, and his eyes were full of trust.

Zhang Wanqing's eyes fell on the strangers. She could feel their strength and she knew that they would be her new allies.

"Welcome back, we have a lot to do." Zhang Wanqing's voice was calm, but there was a glimmer of expectation in her eyes.

Fengxi and Xiaoyu nodded. They knew the next battle would be even harder, but they were ready. Together they would uncover the secrets of the antique shop.

However, at this moment, Zhang Wanqing's phone rang, shattering the tranquility. It was her director, the newspaper's boss, calling. She had taken a leave of absence and hadn't been back to work for a long time.

"Wanqing, you've only just started, and you've already taken so many days of sick leave. You're not feeling well and need to go to the hospital for a checkup and recuperation, but this... isn't a good idea," the director said, a hint of dissatisfaction etched in his voice. Zhang Wanqing knew she had lied, claiming she was ill and needed to recuperate when she had clearly come out for an adventure.

"Director, I understand. I will go back to work the day after tomorrow, oh no, tomorrow!" After saying that, Zhang Wanqing immediately packed up and prepared to go back.

Zhang Wanqing stood at the doorway of the antique shop, the night enveloping her like a vast curtain. She still held the black feather in her hand, a symbol left by the mysterious organization and a lingering shadow within her. She took a deep breath, trying to expel the heaviness, but the sense of urgency remained like a maggot, difficult to shake off.

Her footsteps echoed on the old streets, each a farewell to her past self. The lights of the antique shop faded behind her, and her figure stretched out beneath the streetlights, like a shadow from another world. Her home wasn't far away, but tonight, the journey seemed especially long.

Zhang Wanqing's home is an old apartment building, its exterior covered in ivy, a testament to the passage of time. She pushes open the door, and a familiar yet unfamiliar scent washes over her: the scent of home, yet also the scent of loneliness. Her footsteps echo on the stairs, each a reminder that her life is about to be shattered.

She opened the door. Everything inside seemed so quiet and orderly. Her life had always been like this, perfectly organized. She put down her bag and slipped into her slippers. It was late, and her parents and brother were all asleep. She took a hot bath and prepared for bed when the phone rang again.

The ringing of the phone echoed in the empty house, each ring seemed to urge her on, reminding her that she had another identity, another world waiting for her. She picked up the phone, and a familiar voice came from the other end: Fu Siyuan.

"Wanqing, are you okay? I know you are recuperating, but there is an urgent news clue recently, and the director wants us to continue working together. Can you come back to work immediately? If it really doesn't work, I will talk to the director tomorrow and I will go alone!" Fu Siyuan said.

Zhang Wanqing's brow furrowed slightly. Her life was once again torn in two. One half was the secret keeper of the antique shop. She had just learned about her family's secrets and the mysterious organization, and hadn't had time to unravel them yet. The other half was an ordinary urban reporter, with work to do, family, and friends to support. She sighed softly, knowing she had no choice.

"Fu Siyuan, the director has called me and I will go back to work tomorrow." Her voice was calm, but her heart was in turmoil.

Zhang Wanqing hung up the phone and walked into the bedroom. Her gaze lingered on the wardrobe for a moment, then she opened it. Hanging inside was her other outfit—a professional suit. She changed and looked in the mirror. She was the urban journalist, a completely different person from the secret keeper of the antique shop. Oh, and by the way, she was also a time traveler from the Tang Dynasty. Zhang Wanqing was merely her current host; her true identity was Su Qimeng.

Zhang Wanqing became increasingly upset the more she thought about it, so she decided to stop thinking about it. She picked up her bag and checked the equipment inside: a notebook, a voice recorder, a camera—all her weapons. She took a deep breath, knowing she was about to enter another battlefield, a battlefield without the smoke of gunpowder.

The next day, Zhang Wanqing walked out of the house and set foot on the familiar street again.

She arrived at the newspaper office, her other battlefield. The office was still brightly lit and bustling with activity, a stark contrast to the outside world. Familiar sounds rang in her ears: the clatter of typing on computer keyboards, the clatter of colleagues discussing reports... She walked past the bustling crowd of colleagues and headed for her desk. It was piled high with documents and materials; these were her daily routine, her battle.

She sat down, turned on her computer, and began sorting through the news leads. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, her eyes switching back and forth between the screen and the information. She was a reporter, and she needed a keen sense of smell, quick reactions, and calm judgment.

However, at this moment, her heart could not fully immerse herself in these news clues. There was always a voice in her heart calling her, the voice of the antique shop, the voice of those family secrets. She knew that her life had been completely changed and she could never go back to the past.

At this moment, Fu Siyuan came to her side and said excitedly: "Wanqing, long time no see, welcome back!"

Seeing Fu Siyuan, Zhang Wanqing also felt inexplicably happy. Fu Siyuan was still as handsome as ever, and always looked energetic. When she was with him, she seemed to forget the troubles in her heart.

Fu Siyuan told her the story they were about to report, and her attention was immediately drawn to him. It was about an ancient family, said to possess a mysterious legacy, inextricably linked to the secrets of an antique shop. A flicker of surprise flashed in her eyes, and her heartbeat inexplicably accelerated.

She knew this wasn't just a news tip; it was an opportunity, a chance to uncover the secrets of the antique shop. Perhaps, she could even use it as a chance to uncover secrets about her family, or even find clues to her journey back in time. The more Zhang Wanqing thought about it, the more excited she became. She had to seize this opportunity.

She began to dig deeper into the clue, her eyes searching through the information, her fingers flying across the keyboard, and asking Fu Siyuan questions from time to time.