A painting has become countless fragments, and the relevant authorities will definitely take these things as physical evidence in the case.

In case, according to what Song Feng said, the relevant departments will take another step and send it to the relevant testing unit for testing.

To evaluate the value of this painting, it is not Song Feng who should go in, but Wang Mouren.

At this moment, everyone noticed something different.

It was obviously Song Feng who was in trouble, how could Boss Wang be so scared, and his voice even cried, as if begging Song Feng.

Song Feng bent down and picked up a few other pieces of broken drawing paper, and said, "Boss Wang, what is the truth? Do you need me to say anything more?"

As soon as these words came out, Boss Wang seemed to have been drained of his energy and sat on the ground with a plop.

The tall man didn't expect Song Feng to use such an extreme method to push Boss Wang into a desperate situation.

The old man who reacted condescendingly asked, "Boss Wang, what the hell is going on, why didn't you let him call the police?" Are you afraid that the relevant authorities will evaluate the value of this painting?"

Boss Wang trembled and couldn't answer.

The answer is obvious, of course, I am afraid of the identification of the relevant departments.

There was no fear just now, because there is a hard standard for instrument identification.

The use of instruments to identify antiques must be done in a way that destroys the identification.

In layman's terms, a small piece is cut or broken from the ancient text, and identified by the fracture and other positions.

The ancient painting is in good condition, and Boss Wang has a hundred excuses to refuse to send it to the relevant departments.

Now that the painting is ruined and has become something of no value, Boss Wang can no longer find an excuse.

Even if they insist on refusing to send it for identification, the relevant departments will not listen to Boss Wang's thoughts at all.

Song Feng's destruction of millions of ancient paintings in public is a serious crime.

"The surname is Wang, you are such a bastard!!

Where could the old man not understand, and spit out a mouthful of thick phlegm at Boss Wang.

The faces of the people were ashamed and angry.

They thought they were smart, but they were played around by Boss Wang and tall men.

A minute ago, the tall man squeezed out of the crowd and disappeared under the pretext of having a stomachache.

Facts speak louder than words, Boss Wang not only sells fakes, but also invites tall men to come over and give him a trust.

The two sang and harmonized, playing with everyone in applause.

Song Feng threw down the damaged ancient painting in his hand and said, "If something worth a few thousand yuan is worth 900,000 yuan, the price will be 900,000 yuan, and you are still not satisfied with asking for help to raise the price, if I don't come out, this old man will definitely spend more than 1.5 million yuan to buy this fake."

"People live on pensions, not a rich and wealthy family, you don't have a conscience at all, you would rather pit others to death, but also let yourself make a lot of money, licking your face and saying that you are not a female businessman, and you are not a black shop."

"Your conscience is clean from dogs."

"I'll ask you one last time if the ancient paintings you sell are real or fake, and if you insist that they are real, I'll call immediately."

"Fake, this painting I'm selling is fake!"

Boss Wang cried and said, "Sir, I don't know Taishan, I offended a lot just now, you treat me as a fart, let me go, if you feel dissatisfied, I can compensate you a sum of money."

"Put away your dirty money and leave it for your old age."

Song Feng could predict that after this matter spread, Boss Wang's shop would be considered useless.

Not only will no one come here to shop, but customers who have consumed before may come to the door to ask for an explanation in a short time.

There were a lot of fakes in this shop, and looking around, Song Feng's attention was attracted by a poster placed on the display shelf.

When he came to the calligraphy, Song Feng picked it up and turned around and said, "This thing is also fake, right?"

"Yes, yes."

Boss Wang nodded hurriedly and said, "This calligraphy comes from an ancient copyist, judging from the year, it should be the early Qing Dynasty, and I sell it as a Song Dynasty calligraphy."

"Tell me, how much money did you get it?"

I didn't understand why Song Feng asked this, Boss Wang honestly stretched out three fingers.

He spent 3,000 yuan to collect this notebook from the thrift market.

Song Feng nodded, took out his mobile phone and came to the counter, scanned the code and paid four thousand yuan.

"I bought this font at a price higher than the purchase price, don't say I'm bullying you, as for this old gentleman, you can do it yourself in the future."

was kind enough to help others, but was almost labeled as a provocative, Song Feng felt a little chilled.

Fortunately, this time it was not all for nothing.

Leaving here, Song Feng stepped into the car and drove the car to a secluded street.

Song Feng quickly lifted the calligraphy from the middle with both hands.

"It's a good one, and the truth is hidden in the false, if it weren't for my clairvoyant eyes, I would have almost let go of your good treasure."

A magical scene happened in the car, and there was a small note sandwiched between the notebooks that Song Feng opened.

The length and width of the note are about 30 centimeters, and there are about dozens of words on it.

In addition, there are large and small vermilion seals.

This thing has a very strange name, son.

It is rumored that the son's post came from the Northern Song Dynasty, and it was a note written by Fu Bi, a famous minister of the Northern Song Dynasty, for his son to go through the back door.

Due to the interesting content and the fact that it came from the hands of big people, the son's post was not as written above, and it was burned immediately after reading.

It has been preserved by its owners from generation to generation and has been passed down to modern times.

Twenty years ago, his son Ti appeared at an antique fair in China.

The auction fetched a price of more than 4.6 million, and its sellers and buyers are still a mystery.

No one knew who sold the son's post, or who bought it for a huge sum of money.

It's only clear that this is the last time the son post appears on the market.

There are dozens of seals left on it, and the owner of each seal is a famous person from ancient times to the present.

is not a writer, but a master of calligraphy and painting.

Song Feng guessed that the son post that appeared on the market twenty years ago may not be genuine.

The original handwriting should be sandwiched inside this copybook.

As for why neither the seller nor the buyer has disclosed their identities, there are some things that need not be so straightforward.

When Song Feng was overjoyed, there was a local person who was even happier than Song Feng.

Through the three-inch incorruptible tongue, Huang Xiaowei is gradually whitewashing himself.

Xie Mengzhu's attitude towards Huang Xiaowei is no longer as disgusted as before.

Be able to sit down and talk to him calmly.

Huang Xiaowei was secretly proud in his heart, Xie Mengzhu, a stupid woman, really didn't understand anything.

"Okay, okay, don't talk in my ear, I'll forgive you."

Xie Mengzhu, who doesn't know how to hate people, really can't stand Huang Xiaowei's chatter.

The previous things were written off, as long as Huang Xiaowei didn't come to trouble himself again, he wouldn't trouble him.

"Little sister, I'm so touched by your words."

Huang Xiaowei squeezed out two tears, knocked on the side and said, "Mr. Song went out to pick up the car, it's been almost two hours, why don't you call him and ask him when he will come back?"

"No need to ask, I'm back."

At this moment, Song Feng walked in from outside.