An Old Fool from Shang and Zhou Bought a Fake Jar from Last Week; Go Reflect Some More, Teacher

By the time Guter and the others arrived at the Night Market in the city center, chatting as they walked, the festive atmosphere there had just reached its peak.

The streets, originally broad, had become somewhat cramped due to the crowds celebrating outside, but that was not a bad thing.

Because of that closeness, strangers no longer maintained cold social distances. Instead, they stood near one another like friends and family, close enough to feel each other's emotions.

In such an environment, everyone's excitement over the festival spread outward like droplets falling upon the sea, ripple after ripple.

Their joy infected one another, weaving together into a shared memory of the festival.

In such an atmosphere, even someone with Lairn's personality wore a faint smile.

That's more like it. Everyone should be happy during a festival.

Guter's lips also curved upward with a smile, and when they passed a roadside stall, he took out some money and bought two interesting little accessories.

He hid them behind his back, then quickly walked over to Teacher Serie and Junior Disciple. While they were still confused, he pulled out the hidden accessories from behind him and placed them on their heads.

"Senior Brother, what did you put on my head?"

Gumi did not take it off. Instead, she reached up and touched it. Judging from the feel, it seemed to be a headband?

"Junior Disciple, take a look at Teacher. You two are wearing the same style."

"Really?"

Following her senior brother's guidance, Gumi looked at the teacher beside her and immediately let out a surprised cry.

"Wow! Teacher, you're really adorable!"

At that moment, two pure white cat ears stood atop Serie's helpless face. The cute accessory and the teacher's resigned expression formed an extreme contrast.

"Heh."

"It's just a boring toy."

Serie snorted and mocked it without mercy.

Yet just after dismissing the cat-ear accessory, Serie froze slightly when she looked at her disciple Gumi, who was wearing the same cat ears.

She actually does look rather cute.

Boom!

Just as Serie was lost in thought, a loud explosion suddenly rang out in the black sky.

A dazzling firework blossomed in the night sky, and as though they had all received a signal, the people along the streets erupted into cheers.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

All kinds of fireworks bloomed one after another overhead. The grand display lit up the deep night as brightly as day, and together with the people's cheers, it formed the climax of the Holy Scripture.

Guter looked around at the people beside him—Serie, Gumi, Lairn, and the people on the street—and deeply etched this moment into his mind.

Perhaps this was the meaning of celebrating a festival.

Not everyone could still remember how festivals had first come to be.

Even if they were recorded in writing, after thousands of years, those records would likely become distorted beyond recognition.

In the end, festivals were merely an intangible concept. What was real were the people gathered here in joy.

After the fireworks display ended, Serie led her disciples to the liveliest square in the district.

Most of the snack stalls in the Night Market were gathered there.

Guter patted his junior disciple Gumi on the shoulder. The two exchanged a smile and, with perfect understanding, launched into battle from one end to the other.

Meanwhile, Serie took her disciple Lairn to browse the shops selling magical devices along the street.

Before they knew it, they had wandered around for quite some time. Only when the crowds in the Night Market had gradually thinned did they reluctantly gather again.

During that time, Guter and Gumi had truly eaten their fill. The Night Market's food, brimming with the warmth of everyday life, was remarkably good at soothing the heart.

Teacher Serie and Lairn had also made a purchase.

Guter stared at the jar Teacher Serie was holding in her arms, feeling somewhat puzzled.

After hesitating for a while, Guter finally spoke.

"Teacher, that isn't a magical device, is it?"

"No, it indeed isn't a magical device. But this pattern has an extremely long history, even older than the Unified Empire period of humanity. It can already be considered an antique, so I bought it."

"Is that so?"

Guter paused, then continued.

"Teacher, can I take a closer look?"

"Sure."

Serie handed the jar in her arms to Guter and rather proudly told him that she had bought it for only five silver coins.

However, Serie did not notice that the expression of her disciple Guter, now holding the jar, had become exceedingly strange.

He kept muttering, "That shouldn't be possible," over and over.

Seeing this, Serie's slightly excited mood cooled down. She asked her disciple Guter, "What shouldn't be possible?"

Guter returned the jar to his teacher. After clearing his throat, he said,

"Teacher, you shouldn't have misjudged it."

"Logically speaking, even if it were genuine, you should still be older than it. How could you have misjudged it?"

"?"

Serie's eyebrow twitched. "Explain why you are certain it's fake."

Facing his teacher's doubts, Guter's expression was resolute. If it had been any other kind of object, that would have been one thing—but it just happened to be a jar.

Back in that abandoned Monastery, Guter had copied four or five volumes of research on the history of human vessels. When it came to vessels alone, Guter believed he was no less knowledgeable than a professional scholar.

Thus, Guter analyzed it confidently.

"Teacher, the pattern you recognize is indeed from before the Unified Empire period. There's no problem with that."

"But the issue lies in this jar's style, material, and forging technique."

"This jar's style imitates one that was popular during the Unified Empire peak period, but the placement of these two handles is wrong. And this inlay technique is wrong as well. This method of inlay only became mainstream within the last two hundred years."

"Lastly, there is this jar's firing technique. The sound from tapping its walls is crisp, while its base is smooth and substantial. Only kiln techniques from the past few decades could produce something like this."

"Therefore, it is most likely a fake."

"Teacher, it seems you need to go reflect some more."

"H-How could this be..."

Faced with Guter's orderly analysis, Serie could not help feeling dejected. In particular, his words—"even if it were genuine, you should still be older than it"—struck deeply at her heart.

"Pfft—"

A disciple beside her laughed. Wearing cat-ear accessories, Serie pulled a little cat-like pout as she looked around for the disciple who had just laughed.

Guter? No.

Her chief disciple was currently looking at her with great interest. Though he was not laughing, there was nothing kind about his gaze either.

Gumi? No.

Her female disciple was pinching her own arm and biting her lower lip tightly. Judging by how red her face had become from holding it in, it probably was not her.

After ruling out those two, only one answer remained.

Lairn!

Lairn had not even reined it in yet. The smile on his face flowed freely, and only when Teacher Serie stared directly at him did the socially oblivious Lairn vaguely realize that perhaps he should not have laughed so openly.

At that moment, Guter patted Lairn on the shoulder. Perhaps it really was not unjustified that his junior brother had been ostracized in the Imperial Capital Circle.