A nation's industrial development begins with junior engineers.

At the port, Pierre, the nephew of "the last man," was not in a good mood; perhaps it was because he had missed the chance to say goodbye to the goddess in his heart.

"Hey, the goddess is great in every way, but why is she so interested in that country in the East? It's clearly a poor and backward country..."

A dejected Pierre put the small gift left to him by the goddess's caretaker into his pocket and inadvertently touched a set of keys.

"Ha, I told you so! As long as you don't deliberately look for it, the key will always end up in your hands!"

Pierre, who had been worried about losing his keys, was now relieved.

"She truly is my goddess! With your blessing, I am still the lucky Pierre!" Recalling the goddess's every smile and gesture, Pierre felt a slight itch in his throat.

He took out a small glass bottle, swallowed two pills, and his bronchi instantly became clear!

"Viscount Pierre!"

"Hmm? Greetings, Baron! I didn't expect to run into you here! Want one?"

The baron, with some gray hair at his temples, pulled Pierre to a secluded corner with a hurried yet elegant movement.

"Did you send someone to the museum to retrieve the fake the day before yesterday?"

The pleasant sensation from the pill flooded Pierre's mind, making him somewhat addicted.

"Oh? Which museum, Fontainebleau or Guimet?"

"Keep your voice down! No, it's not! It's the Louvre! Our men went there today to try and replicate a Chinese bronze artifact, but they found it was nowhere to be found in the warehouse. The guards reported that it was people wearing your family crest who went to take it!"

"Uh, it's all baseless, isn't it? Baron, you know, my uncle wants me to get away from all this, and you know why..."

When the Baron heard Pierre mention the man, he involuntarily took two steps back.

"Well, Your Excellency, since you have this idea, I hope you can hand over the key to the secret passage so as to avoid some unnecessary misunderstandings!"

"Clatter..." Pierre threw the key out without hesitation.

Seeing that Pierre really did carry the key with him, the Baron's originally gloomy eyes relaxed a little.

“Oh, my viscount. You know how secretive our gatherings are, I hope my actions today will not cause you any trouble!”

Pierre rubbed his arm, which was sore from being scratched. The little pill was great in every way, except it could cause skin sensitivity. If it was a goddess around, it wouldn't matter, but if it was a rough guy...

"No need, I will report what happened today to my uncle truthfully..."

"Well, Your Excellency, consider the missing Chinese goods as our apology to you."

"That's more like it!" Pierre smiled smugly. Nobility, that's the kind of attitude they're after. Whether I did it or not, it's not my fault! As for the whereabouts of those Chinese artifacts, well, we'll deal with that later. They're just a bunch of bronze junk anyway; compared to my grand plan, these things are insignificant!

"Alright, Baron. My goddess is gone, and I'm not in a very good mood today. If you're free tomorrow, please come to my office to discuss it. I have a grand plan that's far more in line with our noble status than making some fakes to sell!"

"As you wish!" The baron waved his hand, making a few circles in the air before bending down.

After Pierre had walked away, several burly men emerged from behind the Baron: "Baron, without a sample, our imitation work seems to be having some difficulties..."

"Right now, I'm only interested in the big plan he mentioned. The leaders have been making a lot of moves lately, so I should be able to get some good profits..."

"What about the bald eagle? That retired leader said he needs some antiques to decorate his estate, which costs 100,000 francs..."

The baron cracked his neck: "This world is so dirty, only the franc and the dollar are worth our efforts."

"Tsk, let's hype up the 'Water Lilies' series. That guy has painted too many, and if they don't sell, they'll be stuck with them."

"Over there in the Bald Eagles, they're just a bunch of nouveau riche. Just do something random, get an expert to issue a verification report, and that's it. You have to understand, that guy who likes to chew on a corncob is just trying to balance his twisted psychology. As long as it's from China, it doesn't matter if it's real or not..."

"Your will..."

The following day, a certain newspaper published a large-format article: "To demonstrate humanitarian spirit, our Gallic country has donated over 100,000 jin of wheat to China. This fully reflects our great power spirit and our efforts for world peace, blah blah blah..."

After the praise and eulogy, there was a small news item in the last corner of the newspaper: Museum maintenance workers, due to their participation in the march, failed to repair the damaged venue in time, resulting in a batch of Chinese cultural relics being damaged by falling stones, which have now been disposed of harmlessly.

As for how to render it harmless, or whether this actually happened, nobody cares.

why?

Bah! The government has the resources to do humanitarian aid, so why can't they give us a raise! Thus, the protest, originally started by the French who were just eating from the same pot, saw many workers join in…

Haha, no wonder the French said their generator would take two years to make; they weren't lying!

In this situation, who will care about the fate of a bunch of Chinese antiques?

Yes, that's the truth about the antique trade: fakes can be mistaken for real, and real things can be mistaken for fakes...

Therefore, Xiao Dai Mao had no interest in collecting so-called "antiques." He could just look at the news about sky-high-priced antiques that occasionally appeared in newspapers in later generations.

Even if you have a genuine piece, and some experts have given it a high price, it all comes down to whether you can actually sell it! True collectors, on the other hand, acquire things through trade…

As for what was exchanged, you can guess for yourself.

Of course, none of this has anything to do with the characters in this book.

At this moment, Mulan and her team members began sailing on the sea, while Xiao Daimao was deeply entangled in the entanglement of a certain big shot.

"Are there really no backups left?"

"No, Air Force Uncle, you have to believe me!" The little guy spread his hands, looking at the big shot who was prone to airsickness with a very innocent expression.

"What about the backup of the backup?"

Little Dumb Hair was speechless. "Brother, you didn't say that yesterday when you were test-flying. You said things like low load capacity, slow flight, it felt unstable, and a gust of wind could blow it away. You said those things yourself. How come your opinion has changed so quickly? And you're still so persistent in asking?"

"Look at what you're saying! There really were only three sets of those rotors. One was taken by Uncle Beard, one was taken by Teacher Zhu and Comrade Fanzhou, and I still have a use for the remaining one..."

The air force leader scratched his head in frustration, looking annoyed.

"Oh! Our Air Force pilots have such a hard life! Oh, it's all my fault as their leader for not taking good care of them! After they parachuted, they were left to starve and freeze in the mountains. When they were found, they were barely recognizable as human!"

"Poor Air Force! We finally managed to cultivate some promising talents, but they died halfway through before they could even make a difference!"

He then proceeded to slap his face and forcefully wail.

It howled and peeked out from between its fingers, its eyes darting around.

"Hey! Air Force Uncle, have we had another accident?" Little Doe was indeed fooled and asked anxiously, grabbing the Air Force comrade's hand.

"Yeah! The training aircraft malfunctioned, and two comrades parachuted. Damn it, they watched helplessly as the plane landed on that hilltop. It took a whole team of people to rush there and find them after two days!"

"northeast?"

"No, it's on an island over there at the ends of the earth..."

Oh, that's right. The central region over there does indeed still retain a lot of virgin forest. When the lumber mill manager came to help make the seats for the "Flying Cat Car," he casually mentioned that the rosewood there is quite good.

"One aircraft won't be enough, why don't you set up a search and rescue system?"

Hey, these cultured people all talk differently! They immediately spout off a "system"!

The air force bigwig pulled out a bottle of liquor.

"Tiger bone! Perfect for nourishing you. And tell me about this system, how does it work?"