"Yes, my old man sent it back, I do these things to exchange for foreign currency through national exports, right?" Huang Qingbai said, justifying himself before lowering his voice, "Ever since the relics were sent to the trade department for export, I've only managed to rescue a part that wasn't sent out. The things I reclaimed, I dare not hand them over anymore. Sometimes I have to fool those ignoramuses with fake antiques!"
Desperation and anger filled Huang Qingbai's eyes, almost tangible.
"Our nation's cultural heritage, in the past was plundered by Western powers, now it's being sent away by our own people, ending up in foreigners' hands. What's left for the country? Culture, culture. We, the descendants, ought to extract the essence and discard the dregs, preserving the relics left by our ancestors. Yet somehow, both essence and dregs have been labeled as old culture that must be discarded!"