When Ye Fan opened his eyes, a foul odor assailed his nostrils.
Ye Fan couldn't help but frown. He moved with difficulty, his chest still in severe pain, but at least his consciousness had somewhat recovered.
Turning his head weakly, he glanced to the side. It looked like a dormitory, and he was lying on a lower bunk of a bed.
A tattered quilt was covering him, and the stench emanated from it.
What is this place?
Ye Fan furrowed his brow, thinking to himself.
He had snuck into the Tianbao Pavilion under the cover of night, found a secret room there, seen a counterfeit, then encountered Mr. Bai, and was eventually defeated by Mr. Bai. He had fled in disarray, and only when he was certain that Mr. Bai was not pursuing him did Ye Fan fall unconscious.
He didn't know what happened after that.
It seemed he had been rescued by someone, but who was it?
As Ye Fan was racking his brains, footsteps and cursing could be heard from outside the door.
"Damn it, is that bastard still not awake? If he doesn't wake up soon, I'll throw him out to the dogs."
"Boss, that kid is badly injured, and we don't have any good medicine here. It'll probably take a few more days, and even if he wakes up, he probably won't be able to work."
"Screw you."
Immediately after, the sound of slaps followed.
"Do you think this is a charity? Let me tell you, at most until tomorrow. If he still can't work, I'll bury you alive."
With that, the person left with heavy footsteps.
Ye Fan struggled to get up to see what was happening, but the sharp pain in his chest made him unable to move. Even a slight movement caused a cold sweat to break out on his forehead.
Soon, the door was opened, and a thin man wearing blue overalls and sporting a messy hairstyle walked in.
Seeing that Ye Fan was awake, the man quickly stepped forward.
"Little brother, how are you feeling?"
The man's cheeks still bore fresh red slap marks. It was evident that he was the one who had been slapped for speaking up for Ye Fan just now.
Ye Fan felt a pang of guilt, "Brother, what is this place?"
The place gave him a dark and oppressive feeling.
Therefore, Ye Fan was eager to know what kind of place this was.
Upon hearing Ye Fan's question, the middle-aged man quickly made a shushing gesture, "Keep your voice down, don't let the people outside hear you."
The middle-aged man's face showed a look of terror. He quickly got up and went to the door, looked outside, and when he saw no one, he breathed a sigh of relief.
It was clear that this middle-aged man was extremely wary of this place.
Ye Fan couldn't help but frown again. What kind of place was this that made people so fearful?
The middle-aged man walked over slowly, lowering his voice.
"This is a porcelain manufacturing factory. The manager is someone from the underworld, and his methods are particularly ruthless. With the slightest carelessness, you could lose your life."
Porcelain manufacturing factory?
Ye Fan was full of question marks regarding this name.
What? Porcelain could be manufactured?
But the next moment, he suddenly realized that this must be a counterfeiting base.
And it specialized in manufacturing fake porcelain.
"Brother, how did I get here?"
Ye Fan's expression didn't change much. Given his current condition, he couldn't manage anything even if he wanted to.
He might not even be able to hold on before saying anything.
Mr. Bai's strength was indeed formidable. At least against him, Ye Fan couldn't gain any advantage.
If it weren't for his strong physical condition and his willingness to exchange a few blows with Mr. Bai, he probably wouldn't have even managed to injure him.
The middle-aged man sighed, "You were brought back by the manager. You were already unconscious at the time. The manager left you here and said that when you woke up, you would start working."
Work? Hard labor?
Ye Fan was completely stunned. What the hell was going on?
Was this place a counterfeiting operation, or a damn black market?
Seeing the confusion in Ye Fan's eyes, the middle-aged man finally couldn't help but sigh.
"Alas, little brother, to be frank, although this place is called a factory, it's actually a place where people are devoured without spitting out bones. The people who work here are either people who owe money and can't repay it, so they're captured to work off their debts, or they're lured in. Anyway, from the moment you step in here, don't even think about getting out alive. Moreover, the workload here is immense, and many people have been worked to death..."
As he said this, the middle-aged man's eyes turned red.
"I've been brought here for three years. I've seen too many people die, from exhaustion, from beatings, from falling while trying to escape. Here, humanity is cold, and no one cares about the lives of others.
I haven't seen my family in three years..."
Hearing the middle-aged man's words, Ye Fan sighed helplessly. It seemed he had been brought to a sweatshop.
Escaping from here would likely be very difficult, especially given his current physical condition and the lack of medical care here, making recovery even harder.
Therefore, the most important thing right now was to recover his injuries as soon as possible.
Since this was a counterfeiting factory, and his expertise was in antiques, porcelain was not a difficult matter for Ye Fan.
With that thought, a faint smile appeared on Ye Fan's lips.
Just then, the door was violently kicked open, and two men barged in.
"Damn it, I knew you were faking being unconscious to fool me. You're looking for death."
Saying that, the man in the lead lunged forward, shoved the middle-aged man aside, and grabbed Ye Fan from the bed.
Ye Fan, already severely injured, felt as if his chest had fractured when he was grabbed like that. He couldn't help but feel a surge of blood to his throat.
Although he managed to swallow it down, blood still trickled from the corner of his mouth.
"Let me tell you, once you're here, I don't care what your identity was before. Here, you're a slave. Now, go to workshop number three immediately and clean porcelain for me. If you dare to slack off, I'll skin you alive."
With that, he grabbed Ye Fan by the collar and threw him out of the room.
Ye Fan endured the excruciating pain in his chest, gritting his teeth, and didn't utter a sound.
He knew that at this moment, even if he screamed, no one would pity him.
Because the people here had long lost their humanity.
The middle-aged man quickly followed, supporting Ye Fan, "I'll take you there."
...
Workshop number three was a warehouse of about two hundred square meters, filled with porcelain of all kinds. There were Ding ware, Ru ware, Jun ware, Ge ware, and pieces from various dynasties.
At that moment, more than a dozen people were crouching on the ground, cleaning and wiping these porcelain pieces.
Ye Fan only glanced at them and realized that not a single piece of porcelain was real.
The traces of imitation were too obvious. An ordinary person might not notice anything amiss, but someone even slightly knowledgeable would immediately be able to distinguish the genuine from the fake.