The porcelain bottle wobbled.
The porcelain bottle rolled around.
The porcelain bottle refused to get up.
Shen Le sighed repeatedly, poking it, shaking it, and coaxing it, all to no avail. When he tried to get it to point the way to other kiln sites—undiscovered kiln sites—it refused, desperately trying to burrow headfirst into the dirt:
Poor little round porcelain bottle with its flared mouth, still wrapped in thick shockproof padding—it could not burrow down even a single step.
After spinning for ages, it had only ground a shallow dent into the yellow earth, less than two centimeters deep. It tried to use that pit to stand upside down, but could not steady itself at all and could only flop onto the muddy ground with a thud...
"Alright, alright. This kiln site has already been excavated and studied. There really isn't anything left inside. There's no point rolling around anymore."
With no other choice, Shen Le carried it to the stone monument marking the site as a "National Key Cultural Relics Protection Unit" and pointed at the inscription as he explained:
"Everything in a discovered kiln has been counted piece by piece and registered. We can't touch sites like this! —How about this? Come with me to the porcelain shops in the city first. I'll buy you a whole pile of porcelain so you can eat your fill?"
The porcelain bottle's spinning paused briefly, as though it were listening intently. A moment later, it began struggling and rolling about in Shen Le's palm again. Shen Le could only grip the bottle tightly in one hand while pulling out his phone with the other:
"If you keep refusing to listen, I'm calling Mr. Zhao! I'll have him take you back! Whatever he does to straighten you out after that won't be