"Plaster?"
Dong Jin was utterly baffled: "Young man, don't speak nonsense. This is the Qingfeng Sword from four thousand years ago, a rare treasure. I would never mistake it. Don't spew nonsense."
"Hehe!"
Xiao Qiang's smile broadened: "A Qingfeng Sword from four thousand years ago? Worth only half a million? Are you tricking a 3-year-old?"
"This..."
Dong Jin instantaneously panicked.
Many connoisseurs began to whisper among themselves.
"Yeah, Mr Dong, this matter is somewhat strange. Be careful not to be deceived."
"Something feels off. Look, the boy selling the sword has run off."
"He hasn't mistaken it, has he?"
...
In response to the various discussions, Dong Jin lost his confidence and ordered his bodyguard: "Quickly bring the hydrogen peroxide."
The bodyguard brought the hydrogen peroxide, and Dong Jin, quite carefully, dabbed a bit of it onto the antique copper color hilt of the sword and gently rubbed it.
