N City, antique night market, 2 am. Although it was deep in the night, there were still some people carrying bags and holding flashlights, searching around as if waiting for something. Among these people, Luo Tian stood out for his silence. Judging from his experience, the sellers would arrive in about ten minutes.

As expected, after ten minutes a bread truck screeched to a halt. Several burly men got off the truck and carried down two boxes before hopping back in and driving away, leaving behind a man in his thirties wearing glasses to handle things. He was quick and efficient, unpacking the contents of the boxes in no time. To everyone's surprise, they were filled with old books, some appearing incredibly ancient, as if they could crumble into dust with the slightest touch.

Among the original crowd waiting, some couldn't contain their excitement and rushed forward to take a closer look. Luo Tian remained unfazed. The Ghost Market had just begun, the good stuff was still to come.

For a long time, the antique circle has had the habit of strolling through night markets, also known as "ghost markets." At 3 or 4 in the morning, at designated locations, antique dealers or collectors from all walks of life come to set up stalls to buy and sell. This is the most suitable place to "pick" items, and it's also where Luo Tian makes a living.

Luo Tian was not very old, he could be said to be the youngest among this group of people. He was only twenty-six years old. He looked elegant and fair, but because his parents passed away when he was young, he had never received a formal higher education. His knowledge of antiques came entirely from books and his own insights. Even he himself hadn't expected that he would rely on this knowledge to survive.

The most important thing he did every week was wait for the Ghost Market to arrive. Among the many stalls, he would find what he wanted. If he was lucky, he would pick out one or two things. Flipping them over would be enough to cover his expenses for a month.At this time, more and more vendors gathered here, stall after stall. There were ancient books, porcelain, jade of unknown origin, and some nameless items. There were so many that it was dazzling just to look at them. Buyers all held flashlights and carefully examined the items they were interested in. Luo Tian wasn't in a hurry though. He had his own way of doing things. He didn't show too much eagerness about what he was interested in, as this would give away his thoughts.

Luo Tian casually scanned the surroundings, his target already in sight. But instead of rushing forward to inquire about the price or check for authenticity, he stood beside the stall owner, pulling out his phone and fiddling with it, feigning boredom.

Luo Tian was focused on a small eight-treasure bowl. The bright yellow glaze had auspicious patterns, and while Kong Dang, standing to the side fiddling with his phone, caught sight of the slight wavy glaze on the edge of the bowl. The ghost market had been open for nearly forty minutes, but the owner of this bowl still hadn't set up shop. He was starting to get impatient. The vendor, a man in his forties with a small beard, which we'll call "beard" for short...

"Boss, haven't any of the clothes been sent out tonight yet?" Luo Tian put away his phone and asked casually.

The little beard man was full of worry: "Oh, this ghost city is getting more and more sluggish."

"You know, you're just missing a bit of flair," Luo Tian said earnestly, "I could help brighten things up for you. How about it?"

This seemed to have pricked Little Whiskers' ears, and he immediately perked up: "Young man, you mean it?"

Let me be upfront, anything too expensive is out of the question. I can only take a look around for something affordable. Luo Tian scanned the stall's wares and picked up an eight-treasure bowl. "This one's small, maybe I can afford this."

"Wait!" a white-haired old man exclaimed, and Luo Tian's heart sank. Could it be that he had encountered a master today?

The old man picked up the eight-treasure bowl, examined it carefully, and then flipped it over. There was an inscription on the bottom of the bowl: "Made in the Tongzhi year." He said, “This craftsmanship and glaze are from Qing Dynasty porcelain. I'll take it for two hundred yuan. What do you think?”

Lu Tian's heart sank back into his chest. This white-haired old man had an eye for quality, but he only saw half of it. He didn't know the true value of this bowl. He then looked at Lu Tian. After all, Lu Tian was the first to ask about the price. Lu Tian pondered for a moment: "Three hundred."

The old man shot out a palm: "Five hundred, I'll take it!!"

Luo Tian's heart skipped a beat. Could he encounter an "lan dao" today? An "lan dao" refers to raising the price competitors bid for collectibles or preemptively buying them. Luo Tian felt a mix of anxiety, after all, there was no 100% certainty about the value of the Eight Treasure Bowl. Should he gamble? Or not?

Hu Xiaozi saw Luotiantian for half a day without making a sound, and had already shifted his attention to the old man with white hair. Luotiantian gritted his teeth, and took a gamble. He had to believe in his own eyes; it was impossible to choose correctly every time. But when he had to make a move, he had to do it!

"Wait, I'll offer one thousand!!"

The old man and the young man with the mustache were both taken aback, especially the old man whose face clearly showed displeasure: “Young man, this is just porcelain from the Qing Dynasty. One thousand? Don't be impulsive.”

"A thousand, I'll take it." Luo Tian took out a thousand yuan in cash from his pocket: "Old man, I'm young, and I don't want to compete with you. I really want this item. Please don't mind."

The old man let out a low hum, shook his head, and walked away helplessly.

This eight-treasure bowl was bought by Xiao Huzi from the countryside for eighty yuan. The old man's original offer of five hundred yuan had already made him overjoyed, but he never expected this polite young man to bid a thousand yuan!! He took the money and carefully placed the eight-treasure bowl in Luo Tian's hand, asking: "Young man, why did you pay such a high price??

“A thousand yuan for an ordinary Qing Dynasty porcelain is not a good deal. It wouldn't even sell for more than 1,200 yuan if you resold it. But what if it was used by Emperor Tongzhi on his wedding?” Luo Tian chuckled: “Then its value could be more than ten times higher. To my knowledge, the porcelain used by Emperor Tongzhi on his wedding sold for over 20,000 yuan at auction.”

After finishing his words, Luotien tucked the eight treasure bowl into his arms and walked away. He urgently needed to verify the authenticity of this bowl. Leaving the Ghost Market, Luotien planned to cross the road on foot. His mind was so preoccupied with the truthfulness of the object in his hands that he didn't notice a speeding small truck coming from the other side of the road until its headlights shone on him. As Luotien looked up, his heart sank!

Before the sound could escape his lips, the carriage had flung Luo Tian's body from it. He was thrown out with a sickening thud, "bang!" Hitting the ground, Luo Tian still possessed some awareness. He couldn't tell if his bones were broken or if the eight-treasure bowl in his arms had shattered. He opened his eyes to see the people of the Ghost Market slowly gathering around him, their faces filled with curiosity. A nauseating stench assaulted his nostrils, and then everything went black...

It's hot, scorching like being forged in flames. Every pore is gaping open from the heat, and within this inferno, he feels a wind blowing inward. Luotien feels his eyelids growing heavy, unable to lift them. He feels as if he's fallen into a dark abyss... no, it's more like falling into a furnace.

That indescribable heat finally coalesced into a current, which flowed upwards along Luò Tiān’s leg. It moved like something alive, slithering its way up, sending shivers down one’s spine. The heat surged forward until it reached his lower abdomen, then with a “bang,” it vanished…

A faint light appeared before his eyes. Luò Tiān strained to open them. Several figures flickered in and out of view, and someone was speaking.

"That's strange, I heard from people at the scene that he was thrown by the impact, but he only sustained minor injuries. He's really lucky." A voice spoke up.

Another shadow leaned down, a frigid thing at its mouth: “The heartbeat has returned to normal. Well, let’s go out and let the patient rest.”

Patient? Luotiān's head felt dizzy and heavy. When did he get sick? The surrounding area quieted down, and the blur in front of him slowly disappeared, everything became clear: white walls, white sheets, and the sound of intravenous fluids dripping, all so distinct. Looking at the needle in his hand, Luotiān finally had a vague recollection.

He struggled to get up and looked around. It was a three-person ward, but at this time, he was the only one living in it. The cold walls were really creepy. Luo Tian suddenly shivered, where's the bowl? One thousand yuan down the drain!

Just when Luotiantian was dejected, he saw a drawer beside the bed. On a whim, he pulled it open, and his eyes lit up immediately. The Eight Treasure Bowl was inside, but he instantly lost hope—it was in pieces, all crammed into a small plastic bag. He numbly reached for it, and as soon as his hand touched the shards, that surge of heat returned!!

Luò Tiān was frightened and quickly loosened his grip. As soon as he let go, the hot flow disappeared immediately. It was truly strange! Luò Tiān looked at the piece of porcelain, and saw something red mixed within it. How could there be this in genuine porcelain?! Luò Tiān helplessly lay down on the bed. He had misjudged things; instead of finding a treasure, he had picked up an evil thing! What exactly was that thing mixed in the porcelain? And what was that hot flow all about?