I collect cultural relics in the human world

Chapter 243 It’s Him (Part )

The story's transition is not a happy one. Qin Jian walks back and forth in the suffocatingly thick ink, watching the smile on his face disappear again. In order to collect information, he relies on his natural intuition about antiques and starts a pawnshop business. He changes into a young man, and because of his immortality, he gradually disappears behind the scenes. He opens more and more shops all over the place, but he gradually becomes like a walking corpse.

Until one day, he was drinking alone in the courtyard, and suddenly heard two servants talking from the other side of the courtyard wall. They were talking about a tea stand they had just passed by after shopping. The sour plum soup was particularly refreshing, paired with a variety of delicate snacks and fruits, and the girl who ran the tea stand said she had escaped from the disaster outside the city, and her eyes were particularly dazzling. For some reason, his heart suddenly skipped a beat, and he rushed out of the courtyard and grabbed the servant's hand.

"Where is that tea stall you mentioned?"

"On...on...on the ancient road outside Xishan Temple."

He was right. When he saw the girl, the blood in his body began to flow again. Fortunately, it was not their first meeting. He learned from the last lesson and did not lose his composure again among the passing people. Instead, he walked to the tea stall, slowly sat down on a rickety long bench, and said in a voice that was almost trembling with thirst, "Give me a bowl of sour plum soup."

"Would you like two more servings of tea and fruit?" a crisp voice sounded. The girl looked at him expectantly, but when she saw that his face was tense and he didn't say a word, she thought the guest thought she was talking too much, so she quickly lowered her head and turned around to get the sour plum soup.

At this moment, he regained the disguise he had developed over the years of dressing up, calmed himself and asked, "Do you have any recommendations?"

The girl turned around, looking relieved, her voice cheerful again: "I heard the guest's voice was a little hoarse, maybe his throat was uncomfortable, how about a serving of salted kumquats, it can help relieve the throat and promote salivation."

"I'll listen to you."

The girl smiled. Even before the sour plum soup and tea were served, Qin Jian felt a chill in his heart. He saw the young man start to go out, going back and forth between the tea stalls every day. It was still the same repetitive life, but it was obviously more colorful, and even his steps were lighter. The girl was more out in the open this time, and it was obvious that there were more people who wanted to go to this tea stall than just the young man. But Qin Jian looked at the person in the painting, and he was not annoyed at all. Instead, he was very interested, as if these unexpected suitors had added a bit of fun to his destined love. Fighting violently, being a hero to save the beauty, spending a lot of money, and occasionally getting jealous and making a fuss, he finally felt that he was alive again.

He invested in a restaurant for the girl and specially found some rare recipes, turning it into a husband-and-wife shop.

Just like in the previous life, the two had no children, but he did not stop the girl from saving an abandoned baby girl and taking her as his apprentice. Although she was called an apprentice, she was actually a daughter. The girl was smart and cute. She grew up under their laps and looked like a girl. He thought that the two would eventually experience death again, and leaving a little shadow behind might give them more thoughts.

Qin Jian, who was standing by, gradually understood why he fell in love with the taste of Wuweizhai after waking up, because this was the restaurant he once opened.

When the girl turned into an old woman and left again, Qin Jian looked at himself slumped in the pearwood chair, his eyes falling on a crack on the wall that snaked down from the ceiling. The ink was spreading, and Qin Jian could not tell whether the crack was on the painting, on the wall, or on his heart.

He originally thought that all he wanted was to be with the one he loved for his whole life, but in the end he found that one life was far from enough. The departure of the one he loved tore his heart apart again and again. The better the companionship, the more painful the separation. It turned out that death was easier than life. For the first time in a long time, he hated the fact that he was resurrected.

The thick ink splashed across the picture, burying all the happiness. Qin Jian saw the boy again - no, he was now a middle-aged man, his eyes full of gloom. Only when he looked at a painting would his eyebrows relax, but only for a moment, and then his eyebrows would unconsciously twist again. One foot stepped into the still picture, and then the figure stepped into the door carefully, lowered his head and bent his waist, like a housekeeper, reporting all the big and small matters, and waited for the middle-aged man to say "hmm", but did not leave.

"Anything else to say?"

"Recently, a troupe of actors came to the city, and they are very popular." The person in the upper seat showed a trace of impatience, but the housekeeper did not stop, but instead quickened his pace and continued speaking in one breath, "I went to take a look, and there was a female warrior on the stage, who looked 80% similar to the person in the painting."

The butler mustered up his courage to speak it all in one breath, and after he finished speaking he did not dare to look up at his master's expression. He waited for no answer, and sweat broke out on his back.

Qin Jian saw it clearly. He was like a man who had been drowning for a long time and suddenly found a floating log. He grabbed the handles of the wooden chair with both hands, and the veins on the back of his hands were bulging. He hesitated for a long time before he regained his breath and said, "Let's go. It's been a long time since I last watched a play."

Sure enough it was her.

By then, his business had grown immensely and he had thought of distributing the girl's portrait and asking his men to help find it, but he held back - he was afraid of a big commotion, and also afraid that something might happen secretly and he would not be able to protect his beloved. He did not expect that they would meet again, again relying on a painting.

This time, she was not the star of the stage, but she was still lively and free, and her every frown and smile touched the heart of the man in the audience. The man was obsessed with the familiar face hidden behind the heavy oil paint on the stage, and the swords and shadows between her soft body. The long loneliness and pain were like the smoke after a volcanic eruption. It was slightly pulled in the drifting, and then it sank into the eternal silence again and disappeared.

When the scene turned to the backstage, the girl was removing half of her makeup. When she saw someone coming in, she looked very surprised. She stared at him for a while and suddenly said, "Sister Caifeng is next door."

"What Caifeng? Boss Qin came all the way to see you." Before the man could speak, the boss came over in a hurry, pulled the girl up from her seat, and whispered in her ear, "Boss Qin, half of the property in this city belongs to him."

The girl's body froze.

She was not a Qingyi, not a Huadan, not the top star in the troupe. This was the first time someone came to see her backstage, and it was such a generous boss. The man knew what she was thinking. His expression softened, and the girl's originally embarrassed posture became relaxed. She thought for a while and said, "Thank you for your kindness. I don't have anything to treat you. How about I take off my makeup and invite you to have a cup of tea."

"it is good."

When the ink solidified into a picture again, Qin Jian heard himself asking the girl why she learned to be a female warrior.