Big plates, big bowls, big chunks of meat—that was the style of cooking for the mountain folk. The meat was hunted in the hills, the vegetables were fresh mountain bamboo shoots, along with greens grown in the local terrain.

The hot oil was pressed from rapeseed and peanuts they grew themselves—absolutely pure, natural, green, and pollution-free. In any case, the dishes served in massive bowls and plates placed on the table were guaranteed to make one's mouth water, irresistible for a hearty feast.

“The wine is here, thank you for your trouble, Elder…” Seeing the group return, someone quickly took the large gourd from the old man’s hand and proceeded to pour a bowl for each person. The liquid inside was milky white and slightly turbid, but the aroma of the wine was incredibly rich, causing the pourer to repeatedly swallow hard.

The food was ready, and the drink had arrived. With wine and meat, what more was there to wait for?

They naturally began to eat. Calling over a few villagers who helped with the cooking, handing some chicken claws, wings, and rabbit leg bones to a few children to gnaw on, everyone gathered around the table.

Without a word, they raised their bowls and drank deep. As the old man had said, this was home-brewed liquor; it surely couldn’t compare to the famous brands on the market, but its flavor was mild.

Even those unused to drinking wouldn't easily get intoxicated even gulping it down heartily. Drinking wine from great bowls and tearing meat with bare hands—what spirit!

This feeling greatly pleased Murong Guang and the others. Truthfully, for those whose food and clothing were secure, they had sampled countless delicacies.

Unless one was a glutton whose only love in life was eating, they wouldn't obsess over exquisite cuisine. For these people, whether the food was delicious was secondary.

As long as it wasn't so repulsive that one wanted to spit it out upon tasting, they could manage it, without rigidly insisting it must be tasty. On the contrary, they felt that flavor was secondary; the atmosphere was the most important thing.

Just like now, the atmosphere was excellent, and the food tasted fine enough. Naturally, everyone ate with great joy.

More than half an hour later, not only had the several large gourds of rice wine been emptied, but the large plates and bowls on the table were also completely clean. Perhaps because they had eaten too much, many felt stuffed and struggled to stand up, groaning while holding their stomachs, slowly digesting.

Wang Guan was more mindful of moderation and avoided this situation. Seeing the old man signaling the villagers to clear the dishes, he naturally rose to lend a hand.

But as soon as he picked up a large plate, that texture startled him, and he couldn't help but lower his head to examine it closely. After scrutinizing it for a moment, Wang Guan’s gaze sharpened, and he quietly nudged Yu Feibai.

“What’s wrong?” Yu Feibai turned to look over. “Go on, help the old man wash the dishes,” Wang Guan said with a smile, handing the large plate over directly.

“Why aren’t you going…” Yu Feibai instinctively started to object, but his gaze followed the plate, and he immediately changed his mind. “Fine, I’ll go.” As he spoke, Yu Feibai took the large plate to the washing area.

After rinsing the surface grease with water, he wiped it clean with a cloth and then began to study it carefully. It was a large blue-and-white porcelain plate, with an open mouth, curving walls, and a ring foot.

The plate was massive, with blue-and-white decorative patterns painted both inside and out. The center of the plate’s interior was encircled by a double ring, depicting six immortal cranes.

The exterior wall featured a continuous scrolling lotus motif. However, perhaps due to long-term use, some of the blue-and-white patterns were worn down.

The white-gray glaze surface had lost its former luster. After examining it repeatedly, Yu Feibai gently beckoned Wang Guan over and whispered, “No mark.” “Then it must be from a folk kiln,” Wang Guan whispered back.

“Actually, it’s not that there’s no mark. The foot rim is somewhat worn down, exposing the clay body.

I suspect the mark was accidentally scraped off during washing.” “Hmm, that makes sense.” Yu Feibai looked, nodded in agreement, and then mused, “The plate is large and heavy, and the shape is reasonably well-formed. It should be a decent piece.

But it’s hard to date quickly. In your opinion, what era is it from?” Wang Guan pondered, “It’s hard to say, but I’m certain it’s from the Ming Dynasty.” “Why?” Yu Feibai inquired.

“The shape of this type of blue-and-white plate is very common and was extremely popular during the Ming and Qing dynasties. How can you be so sure it’s Ming?” “Look at the color of the blue-and-white glaze,” Wang Guan stated as a matter of course.

“The Qing Dynasty mostly used domestic Zhejiang material or Mingzhu material, resulting in a vibrant, bright azure tone, which doesn't match the glaze color of this plate. It’s easily identifiable.” “Right.” As Wang Guan pointed it out, Yu Feibai recalled, “In the early Ming, during the Yongle and Xuande periods, imported Sumaliqing was used.

During the Chenghua period, it was Pingdianqing, and after Zhengde, they used Huiqing material.” “Huiqing material!” As he spoke, Yu Feibai lifted the plate, holding it up to the sunlight, and suddenly looked thoughtful. “The color is tranquil, subtly purplish within the blue—it looks quite similar.” “Whether it’s similar or not can be discussed later,” At this moment, Wang Guan smiled and reminded him, “I think you should put the plate down now.

Didn’t you notice everyone is watching you?” “Let them look if they want to…” Yu Feibai didn’t mind. He walked over to the old man and asked with a friendly smile, “Elder, are you willing to sell this large plate?” “What?” In that instant, not only the old man but also Murong Guang and the others nearby looked puzzled.

They couldn't understand why Yu Feibai suddenly set his sights on this large plate? Buying a falcon made sense, but buying a plate was baffling.

Under everyone’s astonished gaze, Yu Feibai remained composed and said frankly, “Elder, if I’m not mistaken, this large plate of yours was also passed down from your ancestors, right?” “Oh!” Hearing this, some people began to understand—this large plate might be an antique… With this thought, a few others walked over, curiously examining the plate. However, since they weren't experts, they couldn't discern anything, only noting that the plate was damaged and in poor condition.

“Feibai,” At the same time, Murong Guang whispered, “Do you think this is ancient blue-and-white porcelain?” “Yes,” Yu Feibai confirmed. “Look at the clay body; the trimming knife marks are uneven, showing distinct traces of skipping.

This is definitely a handmade product; only ancient workshops would have this kind of craftsmanship. If it were a modern factory, it would certainly be much more refined… Never mind, you wouldn't understand anyway.

Just know that it’s something from before the founding of the nation.” Even the most ignorant person probably understood that a large plate from before the founding of the PRC definitely fell into the category of antiques. Just then, someone laughed, “It’s a pity Ouyang isn’t here; he would surely be able to recognize it.” “Ouyang?” Yu Feibai paused, unsure who Ouyang was, but judging by the speaker’s tone, Ouyang must also be an expert, at least in identifying porcelain.

“Ouyang is our friend,” Murong Guang explained. “He loves tomb artifacts, so he built a dedicated museum at home displaying several thousand pieces of porcelain.” “Oh, then I must pay him a visit when I get the chance.” As he spoke, Yu Feibai turned back, “Elder, you haven’t answered yet.

Was this thing passed down from your ancestors? Are you willing to transfer it to me?” “You want this plate?” The old man had just snapped back to attention, but he was still somewhat confused.

“This is an antique?” “That’s right,” Yu Feibai smiled. “This is something from your home; don't you know its origins?” “I truly don’t know,” The old man was honest, looking a bit surprised and hesitant.

“It wasn't passed down. Back in the sixties or seventies, the authorities organized everyone to build roads.

After the work was done, they distributed rice, meat, washbasins, plates, and cups to everyone. I received this large plate, and I also got a plastic bucket, but it’s already broken…” When the others heard this, the story sounded plausible.

After all, in times of material scarcity, distributing goods was the most common practice. And to be fair, our country was truly built from scratch.

Whatever possessions people had, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, they gave them up to support the nation's founding. In such circumstances, the so-called heirloom objects often turned out to be less reliable.

Conversely, items like the one the old man had, distributed by the state, were more likely to be antiques. One must remember that during that period, people’s concept of antiques was quite vague.

They didn't care what era the item was from; as long as it was sturdy and usable, and especially since it came from the higher-ups, they used it. Because of this, the old man had used the large plate for decades without ever considering its origin.

Only now, hearing Yu Feibai say it was an antique, did he feel a surge of surprise and relief—relief that he hadn't chipped or broken the item during those decades of use. “Since it’s an antique, is it worth a lot of money?” the old man asked, a hint of happiness in his tone.

Relatively speaking, this was unexpected wealth. In his view, the plate was just a daily utensil.

Even with prolonged use, there was no sense of sentimental attachment. He wouldn't feel bad selling it.

Unlike the falcon, which was a living creature capable of interacting with people. The old man was advanced in years, and having spent so much time with the falcon, he had grown accustomed to its presence, making it naturally harder to part with that emotional bond.

Humans are not grass and trees; how could they be without feeling? It was a perfectly normal situation.

Regarding the old man’s question, Yu Feibai couldn't exactly lie and deceive him, but he certainly wouldn't reveal everything either. He just smiled vaguely, “Whether it’s worth money depends on the quality of the plate.” “That’s true,” Someone nearby nodded.

“Actually, it’s pretty much the same for everything. If something is brand new and well-preserved, it’s certainly worth more.

If it’s old and damaged, it will naturally affect its value.” This was the most straightforward logic, also applicable to antiques, so the old man nodded in understanding. With this basis established, negotiations became easier.

After discussing with the old man for a short while, Yu Feibai bought the large plate for a suitable price. After acquiring the plate, Murong Guang and the others felt sufficiently digested and enthusiastically went hunting again, only returning to camp late that evening.

Thanks to the help of the falcons, the group had a good harvest. Murong Guang, as he wished, secured the title of Hunting King and received unanimous praise from everyone.

Afterward, they held a lively bonfire party, having a great time until late into the night when they finally dispersed… (To be continued…)RT