In front of the antique shop.
Wu Sanri's body was full of drops of sweat.
He was just a tomb robber.
Although he had seen many dead objects, he had also entered many tombs. But after all, he was just a layman, and he had no less fear of death than anyone else.
"S-sir... I was threatened by Yin Jun just now, and our deal is still valid... No, no, I will give you that pair of wooden sculptures as a gift." Wu Sanri's image as a wise old fox collapsed at this moment.
Just earlier, before Yin Jun and the others died, they were yelling about devil wooden sculptures. Now, even if he gave those two wooden sculptures to Wu Sanri and that gallery for free, he would reject it with a gentleman smile.
Pan Shengcheng and Zhang Qitian were not much better than Wu Sanri.
Ye Bei always looked too unreasonably calm.
The fearful voices and expressions of fear around him seemed to have nothing to do with him.