Chapter 2049: Chapter 1952: Pickles Matter More

The chess enthusiasts who had followed Huo Sining and the others inside, upon hearing that the jars Old Qi used for pickling were actually antiques and that they could get a compensation of 150,000, immediately started buzzing. The entire yard was filled with the noise of the elderly men discussing and debating.

"When I was a kid swimming in the river, I got my foot cut by some pottery shard! Who knew those things were antiques!"

"Yeah, as a kid, I always found it strange and asked my dad why there were so many jars sunk in the river. He said they came from the kiln upstream, that they were rejects nobody wanted. Who could’ve guessed they were antiques!"

"My grandma also said they floated down from a kiln. There was indeed a kiln making bricks and pottery jars up the river back then. Those jars buried in the river were so rough, even cruder than our dog bowls, so nobody bothered to pick them up."

"So, if that river was filled in, isn’t it possible that there are many Han Dynasty antiques buried underneath?"

"Why would there be so many Han Dynasty pottery jars just like that? Where did these things come from?"

"..."

Amid the chatter of the old men, the old granny who made pickles remained the calmest. Even when she heard about the 150,000 compensation, she remained unmoved, calmly asking Zhou Shitao:

"Brother, are you going to take my three pickle jars? Can you replace them for me? Otherwise, I won’t have anywhere to store my pickles."

Hearing the old granny’s question, not only Zhou Shitao but even Huo Sining couldn’t help but twitch their mouths, feeling quite speechless at the old granny’s response.

In the face of sudden wealth, her first thought wasn’t about getting rich but rather where to put her pickles.

This granny really has a deep affection for her pickles.

Meanwhile, the old man was almost driven to tears by his wife’s foolishness, rushing forward to grab her arm furiously, scolding:

"You wasteful woman, why are you still worrying about pickle jars? They’ve given us 150,000; that’s enough to buy as many pickle jars as you want!"

The granny, however, looked defiant: "I spent more than half a year making those pickles. They can’t just be ruined. They can have the jars, I’m not refusing that, but they need to give me three replacement jars, or my pickles will be wasted. It’s not that I won’t give them the jars, it’s just that I can’t bear to lose those pickles. I’ve been pickling in those jars for decades; no other jars will produce the same taste!"

By the end, the granny was almost in tears.

Huo Sining and Gu Xu exchanged a glance, both understanding the look in each other’s eyes.

Gu Xu smiled at the granny and said, "Granny, this is our fault. Please wait here for a moment. We’ll go get you three pickle jars right now, we won’t let your pickles go to waste."

Saying this, Gu Xu walked straight out the door; he remembered seeing a general store selling pottery jars and bowls on the way there, which should have the jars the granny wanted.

Gu Xu moved quickly; in less than ten minutes, he found the store by memory, and with the shopkeeper’s help, delivered three pickle jars to the granny’s doorstep.

Seeing the pickle jars, although they were new, the granny wasn’t as resistant, taking them with a smile, washing them clean with water, and carefully transferring the pickles from the three Han Dynasty antique jars into them.

Word spreads in all sorts of ways among people; within half an hour, the news that Old Qi’s pickle jars were antiques and had been bought by the Cultural Relics Bureau quickly circulated, drawing many leisurely neighbours to Old Qi’s yard, eager to catch a glimpse of the legendary jars valued at 150,000.

Surrounded tightly by the onlookers, Huo Sining and his group felt quite troubled. However, since they had already notified the Cultural Relics Bureau, and it was highly significant to them, the bureau was on their way. So, although Huo Sining and his group found the crowd a bit overwhelming, they refrained from dispersing them and waited patiently for the bureau’s arrival.

The three pickle jars were soon emptied. Unaware that those jars were Han Dynasty antiques, the granny didn’t mind any bumps. But after knowing they were ancient relics, she dared not be so careless.

Especially under the eyes of so many people, the granny was nervous; several times she almost couldn’t hold onto the jars, nearly dropping and breaking them.

Seeing this, Zhou Shitao and Ji Kun were thoroughly frightened. Unable to stand by any longer, Ji Kun took off his suit jacket, not caring it was custom-made for tens of thousands, and personally held the pickle jars, letting the granny scoop her pickles out from underneath.

Once all the pickles were cleaned out and the three Han Dynasty antique pottery jars were washed clean again, everyone heaved a sigh of relief.

After being enveloped in pickles for decades, those three pottery jars had truly soaked up the rich, full-bodied aroma of pickles, which lingered even after several washes.

Zhou Shitao was caught between laughter and tears, at least relieved that out of the three pickle jars, only one had a chipped edge while the other two remained relatively intact, which soothed Zhou Shitao somewhat.

Just as they finished cleaning the three pottery jars, a noise came from outside with someone shouting, "The Cultural Relics Bureau has arrived."

Hearing this, the people inside squeezed and shuffled to make way.

Four or five people soon walked in from outside, led by none other than Hong Wenkun, the director of the Fucheng Cultural Relics Bureau. Seeing Zhou Shitao standing in the yard, Hong Wenkun’s eyes lit up, and he walked up excitedly, extending his hand to shake Zhou Shitao’s:

"Mr. Zhou, when did you arrive in Fucheng? Why didn’t you let me know? We should have greeted you at the airport, rolled out the red carpet for you. Where are you staying? I’ve already arranged a hotel; let me take you there, what do you think?"

Hong Wenkun spoke in a distinct bureaucratic tone, causing Huo Sining and Ji Kun to frown, let alone the actual concerned party, Zhou Shitao.