Six o'clock.
The sun has just risen.
Song Yun strolled slowly in the ghost market on the antique street.
In the past few days, life has been very peaceful, either sleeping, eating or reading.
Quietly thinking about moving.
Song Yun's hands started to itchy, and he had to touch the antiques. After pondering for a long time, he finally decided to come to the ghost market for a stroll, even though the current ghost market had changed his mind as Tang Miaomiao said. There is no place to go shopping and have a dry addiction.
"Song Yun, how do you think I am doing?"
...
"Sell or not?"
"How could it not be sold?!"
"One billion!"
"Give one hundred million this thing you take away!"
...
"This is an official kiln of the Song Dynasty with eight classics."
"Song Yun, if you want, I will give you a 20% discount and you will take away 50 million!"
...
After two hours of strolling in Song Yun Ghost Market, this kind of things happened one after another. At the beginning, I was a little uncomfortable. However, I slowly began to admit my fate and relaxed my mind. After calming my mind, I started talking with various stalls. The owner feels very good when he gets up. The consequence is that every stall, as long as he squats down, the stall owner is like a big enemy, as long as he has used antiques, when he turns and leaves, the stall owner will directly put the things away .
Seeing this, Song Yun was amused secretly. It was a little prank, deliberately teasing these stall owners. A lot of things he pretended to look like he was very interested, but in fact it was just a mess.
"You people are not willing to sell me things, so don't blame me for fooling you!"
Song Yun thought of the stall owners who hid the antiques. He couldn't help showing weird smiles. He knew that these people would look for expert appraisers when they looked back, or they would scratch their heads and think for ten and a half months. It was hopeful, thought it was really an incredible thing, and finally had to admit that it was a fake. The process was ups and downs, and I could definitely drink a pot.
Song Yun walked, and suddenly realized that this is a good way. These stall owners now have an idea. They think that the things they have used are good things. They simply count them, come here every day, and every time they visit Get a lot of antiques that you are interested in. Over time, these people will know that they have been fooled. It is much easier to buy things in the future, at least there will be no too much resistance.
Song Yun pondered carefully and found that this was indeed a good way.
Song Yun started to execute immediately, squatting down at every stall he passed by.
"This old coin is not bad! Kangxi's!"
...
"This is the blue and white of the Yuan Dynasty, it is simply a work of art!"
...
"This wooden chair must be of Qing Dynasty at least. The boss makes a price."
...
"Is this pastel for sale?"
...
Everywhere Song Yun went, he flew around and walked very pleasantly.
Song Yun walked slowly, seeing that the time was almost the same, and was about to leave, when suddenly he found that there were a lot of people in front of him.
"Isn't someone missing it?"
Song Yun strode over as he thought about it. Ghosts are such a place with a lot of people. Generally speaking, they would gather around to watch the excitement. Generally speaking, there is only one thing, that is, someone picks up and misses it.
Song Yun walked to the crowd watching the lively crowd, and after inquiring about it, he figured out the situation. It was actually very simple. Someone accidentally fell to the ground while watching the stuff on the stall, and the stall owner had to lose money if he didn't want to. The stuff's people disagreed, and this caused trouble.
Song Yun shook his head.
There are indeed rules in the antique business. If you pick things up, if they fall on the ground and smash them, those who use it must pay for it.
The ghost market is full of tourists. How can these people give up such a good opportunity? The key problem is that the reason lies on the side of the stall owner and there is no place to reason.
"You got your hands on this thing!"
"Fell on the ground!"
"You have to lose money!"
...
"One million yuan!"
"You have to pay 1 million!"
"If you pay 1 million, the things are yours, just take them away."
"What? One million is too much?"
"This is the bronze of the Shang Dynasty. The auction company evaluated it and said it could sell for 5 million yuan. Now you have to knock it off. You can take away the things as long as you pay 1 million yuan, which is a huge advantage!"
...
"I can tell you, if you can't pay it before today, don't want to leave!"
...
"Don't think about calling the police, I tell you, it's absolutely useless!"
...
Song Yun frowned.
1000000?
This stall owner is too much!
Knocked something is really wrong, the requirement of losing some money is fine, but it must not be too much.
In a place like a ghost market, few things on the stalls are real, even if they appear occasionally, they are all eight thousand things. It is too much to clamor for others to pay 1 million.
"This stall owner is too much!"
"I won't buy this kind of rotten goods for 500 yuan, but now it's just a smash, and I will be compensated for 1 million. This is a clear grab!"
"That's not wrong! I didn't expect that the people who set up the stalls here would be so dark-hearted and dare not come again."
"Don't stab a boat with one pole!"
"This product is not ours, I just came to set up a stall today!"
When Song Yun heard the discussion around him, he immediately understood that this was a professional liar who came to fool people.
People who often set up stalls in the ghost market usually don’t make things like this, because this is where they eat together. After things become too famous, they are the last to affect themselves, so everyone Consciously maintain, little pits and cheats are endless, but I definitely dare not play too much.
"Does anyone care about it?"
Song Yun looked left and right, it was a bit strange.
There are two types of management in places like ghost markets. One is, of course, the management of the management office, which is on the surface, official, and the other is secretly. To put it bluntly, these stalls will have a big boss. This person has a high prestige, and he acts as a mediator after something happens to keep things down.
Song Yun once heard Tang Miaomiao talk about this matter. There are so many people around here. It should take a while for the matter to happen. It stands to reason that someone should come forward to handle it.
Song Yun was thinking about this. A few people walked not far away. The one in his fifties who walked in front was not too tall, one meter and seven meters tall, thin, with a murderous look on his body.
