World Tibet Bureau

Chapter 436 The Farm
Mr. Xiao Pan was excitedly ordering people to get the cloth. When he heard this, he suddenly looked very unhappy: "Brother, he is a dead liar!"

Mr. Da Pan shouted loudly: "It's not too late to wait a few minutes!"

This is the right choice for an old Jianghu.

In Mr. Pan's eyes, I am just meat on the chopping board. It doesn't really make any difference if I chop it early or later.

Verify what I said.

It doesn't waste much time at all.

Only a fool like Mr. Pan would rush for revenge.

I stopped.

The muscles on Mr. Xiao Pan's face were twisted, and his fat face turned red from holding back.

I can't be bothered to talk to him.

After a few minutes.

Suddenly there was the sound of extremely messy footsteps in the front hall.

Mr. Da Pan shouted loudly: "Lao Wu and Lao Liu, please clean up the things, and the others should evacuate quickly!"

The people from Gongmen are about to attack.

The speed can be really fast!
The entire Tozen Temple became panicked.

Except for a few people who were frantically packing their things.

Everyone else began to run into the forest on the left.

Even the fat-haired monk in charge of Tozenji Temple.

Mr. Pan looked extremely surprised.

I whistled to him and said, "Little Mianbao, run quickly!"

Mr. Pan glared at me and pushed my shoulder: "Damn it! I'll kill you later!"

Under the leadership of Mr. Pan, everyone ran wildly into the jungle.

Several people started holding me up and almost dragging me away.

My feet were hurting so much that I asked them if they could reattach my ankle first, otherwise I wouldn't be able to run fast and things would be delayed.

The person next to me yelled at me: "You are really troublesome!"

Mr. Da Pan shouted sternly: "Get him!"

My ankle was spliced.

The group of people ran down the mountain like bereaved dogs and quickly found a place to hide the car.

A truck.

It was also covered with green canvas.

I was pushed onto the back of the truck by them.

Sit with those subordinates.

The car starts quickly.

There was a muddy smell coming from the inside of the truck. When I turned around, I saw a lot of dirt on it.

I have a sensitive nose.

As soon as I smelled it, I knew that this cart was originally used to hold grave soil.

In order to make fake antiques more realistic, counterfeiting bases often transport a lot of real tomb soil and bury the fakes in the tomb soil. Some of them are buried for several years before being taken out and sold.Things that have been buried in Zhengerbajing tombs have a very unique look and feel as ghost goods.

This kind of perception.

Can't tell, don't know.

The taste, luster, and smell are completely different from pure new products.

Many top appraisers do not start from the specific model and form when appraising antiques. They just look at it and rely on their feelings. They can judge whether it is true or false immediately, and they are still very sure. Because they come into contact with too many old objects, the perception is often worse than the original ones. Identification technology is even less likely to deceive people.

It is said that Mr. Guo Moruo appraised a batch of early Qing Dynasty antiques and organized discussions among experts. Everyone had different opinions and could not make a final conclusion.

Without any choice.

Mr. Guo invited Puyi.

After Puyi came over, he only glanced at it lightly and replied: "It's all fake."

Everyone asked him why.

Puyi replied: "These things are different from the old things I play with at home."

After hearing this, Mr. Guo concluded that everything was false.

Puyi didn't understand antiques at all.

But he couldn't stand it. He had been playing with antiques every day since he was a child, and his impressions were better than anyone else. If he said something was different, it must be fake.

The grave soil is fake.

It just messes up the perception of these appraisal experts.

Pan Tianxiang, the king of the Central Plains, is very professional in making fakes.The car bumped all the way.

I don't know where to go.

The people in the car were very solemn.

All of them were expressionless.

I felt a little bored, so I took the initiative to chat with a charlatan.

This Zhao Feng Er is the guy who I stabbed him with the Vajra Zen Staff before, but he was not afraid of death and directly pulled the Zen Staff to pull me to gain fighting space for my teammates. His kung fu is really good.

"Brother, do you practice Changquan?"

Zhaofeng Er snorted, turned his head away, and ignored me.

"Your hand-holding gesture was quite good. I almost broke it in your hand."

The major characteristics of Changquan are Zhan, Hua, Bao and Hong (also known as Zhan, Hua, Pao and Hong). The blow that Zhao Feng Er used against me is a typical Baoquan style.

When Zhao Feng heard this, he looked slightly surprised and glanced at me: "What are you studying? Shameless, sneak attack!"

I felt funny in my heart, but I held it back and said, "No, no, no, you are scolding yourself by saying this. I also practice Changquan. You practice the northern style, and I practice the southern style. You may have something to do with the southern style of Changquan." I don’t know, but the characteristics of its style of play are like this: taking it by surprise and attacking it unprepared.”

Zhao Feng Er's eyes widened.

It seems that this guy is a martial arts idiot.

I started talking nonsense to him.

From the history of Changquan to the north-south division, the variations of the boxing body, and the characteristics of the fighting style, he was stunned for a moment.

Zhao Feng'er's interest was completely aroused and he asked: "My master didn't teach you this, are you telling the truth?"

I replied: "Southern Changquan began to wither away decades ago, and only my master and me are left. After my master died, I was the only one who understood. I have injuries on my body now. If I I haven’t been killed. When I get to my destination, I’ll have the opportunity to show you a set of boxing techniques. It’s up to you to see how much you can remember. After all, I don’t want our Changquan technique to be lost.”

In fact, it's all nonsense.

Made it up.

Antique people just have to ask.

Even dead people can be said to be alive.

After driving in the dark for five or six hours.

stopped.

Everyone got out of the car.

I found myself in a wilderness.

Everywhere you look.

Withered grass.

Da Pan always asked people to take me into the mountains.

After wandering around the mountains for about an hour, we came to a place.

A dozen old houses.

There is also a mottled slogan on the wall: "Grasp agriculture to promote production and make revolution."

Looks very much like an abandoned seven 80s collective farm.

I was put into a room.

This room is very large, covering nearly two hundred square meters. The door is a large iron gate. There are also a lot of old porcelain, copper cans, ironware, and shapeless wooden lacquerware piled in the corner of the room.

It looks fake at first glance.

It seems that this is still the Pan family's counterfeit manufacturing base.

No one cares about me.

After a while.

I smelled the rich aroma of food.

To be honest, they have already started cooking.

I haven't had enough food since I went to Dongzen Temple, and my stomach is growling with hunger.

To endure hunger.

Meditate on the ground with your eyes closed.

Half an hour passed.

The iron gate of the house opened.

Mr. Pan ordered a few people to bring in a large iron stove with a red charcoal fire burning inside. There was a large basin of water on top of the iron stove. He also ordered someone to bring in a very thick rope and threw it on the beam. , hanging upside down.

I asked: "Little Mianbao, what are you doing?"

Mr. Pan got angry and yelled at me: "Don't call me Little Mianbao!"

(End of this chapter)