All the heavens begin with the love in the courtyard.

Aside from his godsons, the other four were all well-known figures in Master Huang's circle, and all of them had a blood feud with Master Huang.

Master Huang has a lot of sins and blood on his hands over the years, but the only people who can truly threaten him are these seven.

Han Chunming reassured Qi Siqiao that he would handle the situation properly and ensure that those old geezers wouldn't cause trouble when Master Huang retired from his life of crime.

Seeing Han Chunming's confident demeanor, Qi Siqiao's worries lessened considerably. If this man could truly protect her for life, why not marry him?

Dealing with those old men who had a grudge against Master Huang was simple; it didn't require taking their lives, just letting them know.

There are some things you shouldn't do lightly, because the consequences might be too great for them to bear.

Which of those old foxes who can survive in the underworld their whole lives isn't a cunning old fox?

They were all people who valued their lives, but Han Chunming hadn't yet figured out how to deal with Huang Wuye's godsons.

Human hearts are complex. The group definitely had feelings for Master Huang, after all, they had called him "father" for a lifetime, so there must have been some affection between them.

But when there are sufficient temptations, whether people can hold onto their bottom line is anyone's guess.

Han Chunming was thinking about finding himself an easier job, the most important thing being freedom. The college entrance examination would be reinstated in two years, so he wanted to use this time to study with Xiao Qiao and nurture their relationship.

By the time the two of them get into university and graduate, it will be after the reform and opening up. Then they can see whether to start a business or something. Their wonderful life is just beginning.

After experiencing so many worlds, Han Chunming felt like he couldn't find any dreams anymore. Making money and chasing girls was a lonely life. If he could get into university and experience university life, that wouldn't be bad.

It was Sunday again. Han Chunming went to Balizhuang early in the morning to pick up Xiao Qiao, but he learned that the textile factory would be working overtime to catch up on production and would only have half a day off this week. Han Chunming could only pass by disappointed.

In the past few days, Han Chunming has already figured out the addresses of several of the empresses on the list that Xiao Qiao gave him. He went to the pharmacy to get some medicine powder for backup, and everything is ready.

There was still a week until Master Huang's retirement ceremony, and he planned to take advantage of this week to get things done.

Han Chunming was quite bored, so he took two bottles of Moutai and headed to Rouge Alley to find the ragpicker Hou to play with.

These past few days he's been thinking about what kind of job he should look for? Something that's both free and easy?

After thinking for a long time, he suddenly came up with an idea: why don't he go and collect scrap with the ragpicker?

These days, even scrap collectors are paid by the government; they're officially employed, but their reputation isn't great. On the other hand, there are private scrap collectors like "Scrap Collector Hou" who roam the streets and alleys, though that happens occasionally.

The professions that outsiders look down on actually have a decent income. For example, they go from house to house to collect scrap metal, or even go to remote rural areas to collect it, and then resell it to state-run scrap metal collection stations to earn the price difference.

For a cultured man like Marquis of Scraps, collecting scrap metal was merely a cover. His real job was collecting cultural relics and antiques. In the original novel, the treasures in Marquis of Scraps' house could fill a museum. All of those were the result of his hard work over the years, collected through scrap metal collecting.

Of course, like Grandpa Guan, he also had a secret weapon. He even had many heirlooms in his possession, which were all family treasures.

Han Chunming thought about it for a long time these past few days and suddenly came up with a job that was easy and free, where he could go from street to street and have time to accompany Qi Siqiao. He could give it up after he got into university.

The only problem is that in this day and age, the reputation of collecting scrap is really bad. If my mother finds out that I, a fine young man, am collecting scrap, she will definitely be so angry that my blood pressure will rise again.

Besides, he was doing well at the food factory and couldn't easily find a reason to quit, so Han Chunming was in a bit of a predicament.

Han Chunming carried two bottles of Moutai and bought some cooked food from the grocery store, then slowly walked to the house of the ragpicker Hou.

There are only two bottles left in that case of Moutai. I gave two bottles to Grandpa Guan a few days ago, but he got drunk after drinking them. He found out that Han Chunming had a few more bottles, so he grabbed Han Chunming's hand and shamelessly begged him to bring the liquor to him.

Han Chunming kept two bottles for himself and gave the rest to Grandpa Guan. Although he drank alcohol, he didn't have any particular feelings about whether the alcohol was good or not.

When they arrived at the destination, the ragpicker was home. He was surprised to see Han Chunming, but he still stood up with a smile and invited Han Chunming to sit down.

The house of the ragpicker was dark and, more importantly, not very spacious to begin with. It was filled with bottles and jars. Han Chunming glanced at it and saw that they were all Ming and Qing dynasty porcelain. Even the tables and chairs were genuine huanghuali wood. It seemed that this place was a treasure trove.

Actually, these things aren't that special to people these days, especially Qing Dynasty porcelain bottles and jars. Many households have some, but they're just everyday utensils and not worth much money.

The antique industry truly began to rise in popularity in the 1990s, and it wasn't until the 21st century that it entered its golden age.

At that time, the domestic trade in cultural relics was still stagnant, and most people had a very vague concept of antiques and cultural relics.

If ordinary people want to sell their family's antiques, they can only sell them to state-run antique shops. The purchase price is incredibly low, but many people still choose to sell them because antiques can't be eaten.

Antique shops play a significant role, acquiring various cultural relics from across the country, selecting the more valuable ones for major museums, and selling the rest.

A piece of official kiln porcelain from the Ming and Qing dynasties only costs a few dozen yuan in an antique shop. For ordinary people in that era, even a few dozen yuan was still unaffordable for most. Therefore, in the 1970s and 1980s, most of those who went into antique shops to buy antiques were foreigners and some overseas Chinese.

In addition to antiques, antique shops also sell calligraphy and paintings. Compared to porcelain, the value of calligraphy and paintings is much more ambiguous.

The art of calligraphy and painting is highly speculative; many masters who sold their works for astronomical prices in later generations are still unknown figures today.

The paintings of famous masters like Qi Baishi in later generations cost only a dozen yuan each in that era. Some living masters sold their works for just a few yuan each. But in later generations, these works are worth millions or even hundreds of millions of yuan each.

If you really want to make money, you only need to spend 1,000 yuan to buy calligraphy and paintings at an antique shop, and after a few decades, that 1,000 yuan can become 1 billion yuan.

So Han Chunming wanted to collect scrap not because he really wanted to make money, but simply to pass the time and find a hobby.

Seeing Han Chunming carrying two bottles of fine wine and some good food, Polanhou swallowed hard and quickly invited Han Chunming to sit down. The two filled their glasses and began to drink slowly.

Han Chunming was very talkative and showed no disdain or contempt for Polanhou. The two exchanged drinks and talked about antiques and historical figures. Han Chunming was also impressed by Polanhou's broad knowledge. The two then clinked glasses again.

After a few rounds of drinks, Han Chunming suddenly spoke up.

"Brother Hou, how about I go with you to collect scrap?"

Upon hearing this, the ragpicker almost choked on his wine and immediately started coughing.

Han Chunming smiled and quickly patted him on the back to give him a break.

After recovering, the Broken-Robber asked with a serious expression.

"You're so young, why would you give up a perfectly good job and suddenly want to come with me to collect scrap?"

Han Chunming didn't hide anything, only saying that he wanted to change to a more flexible job because his current job was too boring. Hou, the ragpicker, was speechless.

Looking at Han Chunming's nonchalant demeanor, the old man, who had seen through the coldness and warmth of human relationships, couldn't help but feel a little curious about this young man. Han Chunming's carefree attitude surprised even the old man, who had seen through the coldness and warmth of human relationships.

Most importantly, this young man showed no greed whatsoever, and seemed completely unmoved by the antiques filling his room. This made the ragpicker even more curious about Han Chunming.

The ragpicker picked up a piece of garlic sausage, pondered for a moment, and said.

"You should really think about this!"

Han Chunming filled the glass of wine for the ragpicker and began to speak.

"I've thought this through, Brother Hou, this matter..."

Before Han Chunming could finish speaking, a middle-aged woman suddenly walked in through the door. Han Chunming immediately recognized her and then remembered that she was Hou Su'e, the daughter of the ragpicker.

Hou Su'e walked straight up to the ragged Hou, looking somewhat reserved, her hands clasped together, and she looked at him with some unease.

When the ragpicker saw his daughter, Hou Sulan, he looked disgusted and impatient, and didn't say a word.

Hou Su'e, however, seemed to have gotten used to it all along. Finally, she looked at the ragged Hou with pleading eyes and mustered up her courage to speak.

"Dad, my husband's wound has gotten infected again, and he has a fever now. Could you please help me? I wouldn't be bothering you if things hadn't come to this. I... I'm begging you!"

The ragged Hou looked somewhat impatient. He picked up the wine that Han Chunming had just poured for him, his hands trembling slightly. He drank the wine in one gulp. His expression was complicated and somewhat agitated. Clearly, his emotions were churning inside. He looked up at Hou Su'e, his teeth clenched. In the end, he couldn't let go of the hatred in his heart and growled at Hou Su'e.

"Get out of here!"

Han Chunming shook his head helplessly as he watched this family tragedy unfold. Only he himself could truly know the joys and sorrows of life.

Chapter Seventeen: The Strange Phenomenon of the Ge Kiln Octagonal Cup

What the ragpicker Hou said was indeed hurtful, but Han Chunming didn't rush to step forward and play the good guy.

Don't advise others to be kind if you haven't experienced their suffering. The Broken-Robbery Marquis is actually a decent person, but the way he treats his own daughter suggests that there's an untold story behind it all.

Hearing her father's words, Hou Su'e's eyes reddened. Looking at the ragged Hou, she continued to plead with a wronged expression.

"Dad, I've begged you so humbly, and you still say such things? What more do you want from me? I'm kneeling down to beg you!"

As she spoke, Hou Su'e knelt down with a thud, her eyes red, looking at the ragged Hou, waiting for his reply.

Looking at his daughter kneeling before him, the ragged Marquis twitched his nose, and his eyes seemed to sting. He suppressed his emotions and said in a trembling voice.

"If only you had known this would happen, why did you do it in the first place? I told you then that there is no longer any father-daughter relationship between us. You are me, and I am me. Get out of my way!"

Hou Su'e was deeply hurt by her father's words. She knelt on the ground, her body trembling uncontrollably. The atmosphere in the room was oppressive. After a long time, the ragged Hou remained silent, looking up at the sky as if he had given up completely.

Hou Su'e gritted her teeth and stood up, looking at the ragged Hou with red eyes.

She turned around and looked at the bottles and jars all over the room. She knew these things could be exchanged for money, but her own father was refusing to spend money to help his son-in-law who was seriously ill. At that moment, she was completely heartbroken.

Hou Su'e completely broke down. She rushed forward, grabbed a white porcelain jar from the table, and smashed it on the ground!

This scene terrified Hou Su'e, who hurriedly tried to stop her, but it was too late. Hou Su'e was already prepared to throw the pot in the air and smashed the white porcelain pot in her hand to the ground.

Since we can't get his help, let's destroy these things he cherishes.

Han Chunming felt sorry for the ragpicker Hou when he saw this scene. It was truly unbelievable that such a thing had been born.

However, this Yongle sweet white glaze bottle in front of him was a rare treasure, and it would be a real pity to smash it. Han Chunming stepped forward, stretched out his foot and hooked the white glaze bottle, which was then caught by Han Chunming and held firmly in his hand.

This scene made the ragged Hou breathe a sigh of relief. He turned around and saw Hou Su'e again. There was no mercy in his eyes. He roared at Hou Su'e.

"Get out of here! You're never allowed to set foot here again!"

Hou Su'e finally broke down, crying as she ran out the door with her back turned.

Han Chunming played with the white glazed bottle in his hand, ignoring Hou Su'e. After Hou Su'e had been gone for a long time, the ragtag Hou sighed, slumped into a chair, and sat there in a daze without saying a word.

Han Chunming put down the bottle, sat opposite him, filled the glass of wine for Polanhou, raised his glass and gestured, and Polanhou also raised his glass, and the two drank it all in one gulp.

With wine and food, there are bound to be stories.

The two drank two cups, and the ragpicker sighed and slowly said.

"In the first half of my life, I enjoyed all the riches and honors. Although my family fell into poverty, I still lived a life of luxury. Her birth marked the end of the first half of my life."

Han Chunming did not interrupt the ragpicker Hou's outpouring. People sometimes feel much better when they talk about what's on their mind, especially when there's food and wine.

"Idle Man" sighed and continued.

"Before liberation, I got a job in the puppet government through some family connections. I only got a sinecure by relying on my family's remaining influence. I hadn't done anything heinous, but that bastard Liu Sihai called me a traitor, and that's how I got sentenced to three years."

After liberation, given my already lowly status, I did all sorts of hard and tiring work, from cleaning toilets to pulling carts. I thought that since I had a daughter, there was still some hope for the future. I finally managed to raise her, and guess what happened?

Han Chunming echoed this question.

"What's wrong?"

The ragpicker put down his wine glass, picked it up, and drank it all in one gulp. He slammed the glass down on the table, his breath reeking of alcohol, as if he wanted to pour out all the troubles he had suffered over the years.

"And then she secretly got together with Liu Sihai's son behind my back. I raised her with great difficulty, and now she wants to marry the son of my enemy. Can you believe there's a daughter like that in the world?"

Han Chunming quickly refilled the wine glass of the ragpicker, nodded in empathy, and expressed his agreement with the ragpicker's point of view!

The ragpicker picked up a piece of meat, stuffed it into his mouth, and ate with his face glistening with oil. His eyes seemed to be lost in memories, and there was a trace of struggling pain between his brows. He continued to speak.