Fang Jie didn't expect that the place where the lame man brought him would be like this. What appeared in front of him was a place that had nothing to do with the prosperity of Chang'an City. It looked dirty, disorganized and run down. This is a market hidden in a dark corner, and people who come here seem to be completely isolated from the scenery of Chang'an City. But it is very lively here, even the housekeepers of some wealthy households come here to buy things.
The area of this market is not too small, there are at least hundreds of stalls in the past. The sewage on the ground has frozen, and it is a bit slippery to step on. If you look carefully, you will find fish viscera, pig skin with hair, feathers of chickens and ducks, and pig feces and sheep dung in these ice slags.
The first thing Fang Jie saw was a butcher with a pipe in his mouth. He was wearing only a leather apron in the winter and his arms were bare. He could see the thick black hair on his chest. While puffing out the smoke, he used the boning knife to remove the bones from the pork. You could tell from his appearance that even with his eyes closed, he could skillfully remove every bone. On the vegetable mound next to him were three knives, a thick-backed kitchen knife for chopping meat, a spatula for skinning pigs, and a heavier bone-chopping knife.
Behind him, there is a stout woman squatting on the ground to clean up the pig's offal, which is the pig's internal organs. Everything is placed in a large wooden basin, the pig heart, lungs, liver, and large intestine are still steaming.
"Mother, I'm hungry!"
The butcher yelled while removing the bones, and his mother-in-law hummed, stood up and wiped her bloody hands on the apron casually, walked to the side of the stove and lifted the lid of the pot. Inside was a freshly baked pot. Noodles, steaming hot. The woman took out the pancakes with bloody hands and put them on the chopping board, picked a large piece of raw lard with a knife and spread it evenly on it, and then sprinkled some salt. Finally, he peeled a green onion and rolled it on the pancake, and handed it to the butcher: "Eat it."
The butcher took down his pipe and put it aside, and slammed his sharp knife into the vegetable pile. The four knives are neatly arranged, and the distance between them is exactly the same.
He squatted on the ground, holding the pancake with his oily hands and swallowing it with great relish. Looking at his expression, it seems that the most delicious thing in this world is nothing more than that.
Next to the butcher's stall is a Chinese cabbage vendor. It doesn't look thin, but compared with the butcher, it looks a little thin. He sat on an old chair, crossed his legs and squinted his eyes, and hummed an unknown song. Fang Jie listened carefully and found that it was the Qin opera of the mountain people in the northwest. It was long and rough, but he couldn't hear the specifics. What lyrics.
There is an old goat tied to one side of his stall, which steals his cabbage from time to time. But he didn't pay attention to it at all, humming a little song leisurely.
Or smelling the smell of pancakes, he opened his eyelids to look at the butcher, and then snorted coldly: "If Aunt Chun married me back then, why would I be willing to let her do such vulgar things? Dealing with each other, a beautiful woman who is as beautiful as a flower has been ruined into what she is now!"
"Why? Is it your turn to dislike it?!"
The butcher's wife pinched her waist and asked with raised eyebrows.
The man who sold the cabbage was immediately persuaded, and said with a smile: "I feel sorry for you."
The butcher's wife gave him a hard look, and spread the second cooked pancake with lard, sprinkled it with salt, rolled it with scallions, and tossed it to the cabbage seller. It looks exactly the same, but at least half of the hog fat is missing in this cake.
The butcher chuckled, as if he had taken advantage of it. He thought Chungu still cared about me, so he gave him less than half of the raw lard.
The vegetable farmer also smiled, as if he had taken a lot of advantage. He thought Chun Gu still missed me, knowing that I can't eat too greasy food.
Looking inside, there is a stall selling fish. The well-built fisherman saw that the business was slow, so he quickly picked up two grass carp, removed the scales and opened them, and took out the internal organs. After rinsing in the water, he tied the grass rope through the gills of the fish, holding the grass carp in one hand and Come over with your own wine gourd.
"Change pancakes!"
He didn't say a word.
The butcher's wife rolled her eyes at him and said, "Wait!"
The fisherman hummed and squatted down beside the stall, and casually threw out the two packed fish, which happened to land in the bucket next to the butcher's wife. He squatted drinking while waiting for the pancakes to come out of the pan, glanced at the laughing butcher and snorted coldly: "I just can't figure it out, why did Aunt Chun marry you, a silly bastard? If you marry me, you also want to marry a vegetable seller, at least he is smarter than you! But I didn't expect that she would pick you after all the picking."
"Good luck to me."
The butcher was still grinning, not looking angry at all.
The fisherman shook his head helplessly, and handed over the flagon. After eating the pancakes, the butcher wiped his hands on his apron quickly, as if he was afraid of soiling the fisherman's flagon. He took it and took a sip cautiously, savoring it in his mouth, with an intoxicated expression on his face. But he didn't take a second sip, but handed the jug back.
"Aren't you afraid to take another sip?"
The fisherman sneered.
The butcher smiled shyly and said, "Chungu said, let me have a sip of wine a day."
At this time, Chungu, the pancake maker, seemed to have seen the old cripple by accident, and then smiled and asked, "Master Lame, what do you want to exchange your Northwest Roast for today?"
The old cripple took it for granted, "Of course it's a pancake."
Fang Jie stood not far from them, subconsciously rubbed his brows and said to himself: "The relationship is really messed up..."
…
…
The only clean place in this market is the wonton stall, although the wonton cooks don't look clean at all. The apron in front of him was so dirty that the original color could not be seen, and the mud between his nails was as black as a layer of coal face. I really don't know why people buy the wontons he made, and there are quite a few people who buy them.
The two tables were pushed together, and a dozen people sat around them.
Fang Jie took a closer look at the people in front of him, and secretly sighed inwardly, hoping that the old cripple wasn't playing with him.
Butcher, vegetable farmer, fisherman, cook, shopkeeper, bartender, Liba, smoker, fortune teller, and Chungu.
There are all kinds of things, and they don't look like masters.
But it can be seen that the old cripple is very familiar with and respects them. While speaking, although his mouth was full of vulgar words such as fuck and fuck you, there was an unaffected intimacy. Sitting among these people, Fang Xie felt as if he came from Mars. He looked too clean, so clean that he didn't know what to do.
"good."
"good."
"improvise."
"Something like it."
"Barely."
These people muttered these words in their mouths, looking at Fang Xie carefully as if they were inspecting goods to buy livestock. Fang Jie didn't doubt at all, if they wanted to, they could strip themselves naked in the next second to see if the meat was good. Especially the thick woman named Chun Gu who watched Fang Xie the most carefully, and she was obviously the common dream lover of these men. Her eyes moved inch by inch on Fang Xie's body, and Fang Xie even had the illusion that nothing in his underwear could hide from her.
The reason for the above comments is because the old cripple said straight to the point.
"He is the heir of the prince."
Then these people stared at him, although there was some dissatisfaction in the comments, at least they seemed to have no disgust. Perhaps in their view, Prince Zhong Yang Qi has the kind of demeanor that does not belong to the world, so no man can compare with him. Fang Jie looks slender but not thin, and has a handsome but masculine face. In the eyes of women, he should be regarded as a symbol of handsome man, but in the eyes of these people, he barely humiliated the reputation of Prince Zhong.
"You say he is, how to prove it?"
the fisherman asked the old cripple.
"What I said is naturally proof, do you think I will lie?"
The old cripple answered while eating pancakes and wontons.
"That won't work."
The fortune teller curled his lips and said: "You are not an honest gentleman in the first place, and it is not impossible for you to deceive people. We don't believe it without evidence, unless..."
The old cripple curled his lips: "Unless what?"
The fortune teller took a serious look at Fang Jie's face, then stretched out his hand and said, "Unless I want to touch the bone, come here, come here and let me touch it."
"Pooh!"
The old cripple spat and cursed: "Who doesn't know that you are so masculine?"
The fortune teller blushed, glanced at Chungu and said angrily, "Who told her not to choose me, and had to choose that idiot butcher? Since then, I have no interest in women, unless Chungu marries me again."
"Shut up!"
Aunt Chun scolded, looked at Fang Jie and asked, "What can you prove that you are the heir of the prince? You can do something, and you can do it, so let us see it. Don't worry, the real one can't be faked. You can't hide it from us!"
Fang Jie was silent for a moment, then shook his head and answered seriously: "No."
"No?"
Chun Gu frowned and asked, "Then why should we trust you?"
Fang Jie thought for a while and said, "To be honest, Master and I only spent a very short time together in Fangu in the northwest. I don't know why Master chose me as his successor, and he didn't pass on any information to me. Something that can prove your identity."
"Then what kind of heir is he?"
The vegetable farmer cursed in a low voice, obviously the other party was somewhat conflicted.
"Master lame, where did you pick up such a little boy? He just wants to pretend to be the heir of the prince. Are you being silly with the red sleeves?"
The fisherman muttered in dissatisfaction.
"Grandfather, you didn't just pick up a young man from a brothel to trick us into eating and drinking, did you? Did he pay tribute to you with a pot of Northwest Roast, or a pair of white buttocks?"
Liba asked while chewing a piece of cabbage he grabbed from a vegetable farmer's stall.
The old cripple glanced at Fang Xie, but he didn't seem to have any intention of helping him. He seemed to enjoy watching the disgusting pancakes rolled with raw lard in Fang Jie's eyes, and the wontons made by those black hands. Fang Xie knew what it meant for the old cripple not to rescue him, and he had to figure out a way for these people to recognize him.
"I couldn't find anything to prove my identity, because the master didn't give me anything. The only thing he gave was a small golden pill, which was eaten by me. But if you still refuse to believe that I am the successor of the master, I will I will still use my own methods to convince you.”
"any solution?"
Aunt Chun asked.
Fang Jie smiled and said, "When I was in Fan Gu, I once asked Master, how to make people believe what you said? Master said to be reasonable. I asked again, what if the other party doesn't listen to your reasoning. Master said, then Just beat him until he trusts you."
"so… "
Fang Jie stood up, took off his robe slowly and said, "Are you going to fight together, or one by one?"
"Huh?"
The only woman among the ten people, the one named Chungu, gave a groan, and saw Fang Xie's eyes slightly changed, she clicked her tongue and said, "It looks a bit similar now."