It was clear that a perfectly good antique box made of red rosewood had just been dismantled by some prodigal kid.
Even if it wasn't a centuries-old antique, even if it was a modern imitation, it would still be worth something.
If you haven't seen it with your own eyes, not even the experts dare to give a definite answer.
Wen Yan just listened to it for a bit, and was sure this was definitely an old item.
That old man might not have known about the gold grains, but he definitely knew this thing was quite valuable.
For him to finally give it away, it was probably because he really couldn't hold on anymore, so he took one last gamble and picked someone who seemed the most reliable at the moment.
He wanted to ask more, but somehow he felt that it was probably too late to ask now.
As he was mulling it over, Zhang Laoxi's phone rang — it was the person who had previously helped him find that ninety-year-old man.
After the call, Zhang Laoxi seemed a bit emotional.
