An old but well-functioning agricultural three-wheeler quickly arrived at the usual place. In the darkness, utilizing the lighting tools brought along, a series of tarpaulin mounds spread out like rolling hills unfolded before them.
"Machines?" The Lame Man didn't even turn off the vehicle, jumped out, and lifted a corner. "Can someone who knows this come over and take a look, or is it really just scrap metal?"
"Scrap metal, your head! How many years have you been working and still acting rashly? Move over and let me see." A grumpy old man behind him gave a casual slap, pushing him aside.
The old man wrinkled his brows and waved his hand: "Never mind, everyone scatter around and watch. Call someone over, let's move the stuff first."
The Lame Man curled his lips to the side, muttering softly: "Thought you really knew something!"
