Generally speaking, the fog in the suburbs is heavier than that in the city center in winter. But what Yang Jing couldn't understand was why in Lion City, the fog in the city center was heavier than that in the suburbs?

The further Yang Jing drove towards the city center, the thicker the fog became. When Yang Jing arrived in the city, he couldn't even see the traffic lights at the intersection.

With no other choice, Yang Jing could only follow the car with a local license plate in front of him. He would stop when the car stopped and move when the car moved. As for traffic violations, who would care about them at this time? Besides, in such a thick fog, the cameras were like blind eyes and did not work at all.

Yang Jing followed the car, but at least he didn't follow it into the garage. It was probably a car going to work, because when Yang Jing found that the car in front of him was completely immobile, he realized that he had unknowingly followed the car to a Chinese medicine hospital near the Lion City Railway Station.

Even the old man guarding the gate was amused by Yang Jing. You followed him in your car and followed him to his workplace...

However, the old man who was guarding the door was kind-hearted. When he learned that Yang Jing was from Tianqu City, he asked Yang Jing to park his car in the yard. There were basically no parking spaces near the Lion City Railway Station. If you park your car outside rashly, you will have nowhere to go if it gets scratched.

Yang Jing naturally followed the old man's advice. After parking the car, he walked out empty-handed. Of course, before leaving the hospital, Yang Jing threw a box of General brand cigarettes to the old man. These were left in the car by his father, and Yang Jing just needed them.

When I walked out of the hospital gate, it was all foggy outside and I couldn't see anything at a glance.

Yang Jing learned his lesson and walked on the sidewalk along the curb, turning whenever he saw a bend. As a result, less than ten minutes into his walk, Yang Jing heard a very familiar voice.

"Boss, this bottle of yours is from the Qianlong period. I think it's only been around for a little over a decade, right?"

"Look at what you said. How come this bottle of mine is only more than ten years old? It was passed down from my grandfather."

"Hey, boss, don't be unconvinced by what I say. What's the font of the inscription on the bottom of your bottle?"

"Do I need to say this out loud? This is regular script."

"Well, boss, if you say so, then you are really lying with your eyes open. The font used in the inscription on your bottle is clearly regular script, but what about the "製製" (made)? The "製製" (made) in the inscription on the bottom of the official kiln porcelain of the Qing Dynasty has a "製" (made) on the top and a "衣" (made) on the bottom, which is the traditional Chinese character "製". Look at the "製" (made) on your bottle, it is clearly a modern simplified Chinese character. Boss, don't say you can't see this, don't say that the modern simplified Chinese characters already existed in the Qing Dynasty..."

When Yang Jing heard this, he was delighted. He had unknowingly found himself in an antique market.

Although I couldn't see the surroundings clearly, the conversation just now was obviously a conversation between a buyer and a seller. And the buyer was obviously an expert, and rejected the seller's plate with just a few words.

Yang Jing moved closer to the sound and immediately saw a middle-aged man in his forties putting a bottle on a box, shaking his head and preparing to turn around and leave.

The boss was mumbling something, but it was obvious that he was not saying anything nice.

Yang Jing was about three or four meters away from the bottle. Although he had just heard the middle-aged man point out the biggest flaw of the bottle, Yang Jing was still looking at the bottle from such a distance. Although it was a little blurry, the bottle gave Yang Jing a slightly different feeling.

Yang Jing's mind moved, and after the middle-aged man walked away, he slowly walked over.

This was a pure street stall, covering an area of ​​about two meters by three meters. A piece of plastic colored cloth was spread on the ground, on which were placed a lot of porcelain and some broken porcelain pieces. Four wooden boxes about half a meter high were pressed on the four corners of the stall, and the bottle that the middle-aged man had just seen was placed on one of the wooden boxes.

The stall owner was also a middle-aged man in his forties, wearing a military coat and a Lei Feng hat on his head. He was holding the bottle in his hand and was about to put it away.

Seeing Yang Jing coming over, the stall owner put the bottle on the colorful cloth again and said to Yang Jing with a smile: "Come on, brother! I mainly sell all kinds of porcelain and broken porcelain pieces here. Just look at what you want."

When he approached the stall, Yang Jing realized that there were similar stalls on the left and right of this stall. Yang Jing then remembered that there seemed to be an antique market near the train station in Singapore, a purely open-air, purely street-stall antique market, and this market has a long history.

I didn't expect that I would end up in this antique market by accident.

Yang Jing smiled and nodded to the boss, then squatted down in front of the stall.

After casually looking at a few pieces of porcelain, Yang Jing lost the desire to look any further. Almost all the porcelain on the stalls were crudely made "Singapore" products that couldn't even fool a newcomer to the industry.

But it was precisely for this reason that the more Yang Jing looked at the bottle, the more he felt something was wrong.

This bottle is a round Guan Er bottle. To be precise, it should be a blue and white Guan Er bottle with five bats holding longevity.

Yang Jing asked the boss: "Can you handle this bottle?"

The boss nodded immediately, and Yang Jing took out a pair of gloves and put them on, then carefully picked up the bottle.

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