The hateful old man in the porcelain shop stood in front of the door and glared at the boss.

Kato's men sat by the door and stared at Nakamura.

Ma Yan sat diagonally in front of the dry boss and counted the wine.

The dry boss is wary of Nakamura.

Nakamura sang.

In the remnant snow, I don't realize that spring has come. When the warbler is in the spring valley, the frozen tears in the cold will dissolve now, and the birds can be heard out of the valley?

Remnant snow.

Yongping Town.

The smoke of the noon cooking slowly faded into the clear sky. There are slightly fewer pedestrians on the street.

Pedestrians either enter the restaurant or go back to their homes. Because it's meal time.

The wonton stalls on the side of the street were suddenly indescribably cordial and warm among the cold wind and gray tiles. Ordinary little people sit on a wooden bench behind a table in the open air with a turban, drinking a bowl of hot wonton soup, and the heat seems to leave a layer of oil on the face. The smell of salty and fresh boiled meat fillings wafted through the air, and the vendors in white aprons happily reconciled the wontons in the firewood pot.

Diagonally opposite the wonton stall is an iron shop. The sound of clanging is heard almost every day from morning to night, and the blacksmith should be eating at this time. It's just that the blacksmith will hold the rice bowl and talk to the wonton stall owner every day during lunch, but not today.

The owner of the wonton stall couldn't help but poke his head into the iron shop door. The streets were dazzling with white light, and the inside of the iron shop doors was pitch black. A black-robed man stepped out of the blacksmith's shop.

Suddenly, a white light more intense than sunlight pierced into the eyes of the wonton stall owner, and he blinked and squinted to take a closer look, but it was the reflection of the black-robed man holding a silver-white stick in his hand.

The wonton stall owner was stunned, and his eyes couldn't help but follow the man, but his eyes were dazzled by the silver-white thin stick.

"Hey boss, are my wontons good?"

The wonton stall owner came back to his senses. Hurriedly scooped the cooked wontons into the bowl and added soup. Grabbed a handful of parsley. At the bottom of the bowl, oil, salt, sauce and vinegar are placed with winter vegetables and shrimp skin, and the hot soup is full of fragrance.

The black-robed man would have walked past the wonton stand. I inadvertently took a breath and folded back, and I didn't look at the remaining two empty tables, but just sat down on the empty table wall that stood against the wall, and called lightly: "Boss, a bowl of wontons, no green onion and ginger." ”

"Oh, yes! A bowl of wontons, no green onion and ginger!" The wonton stall owner immediately turned around to greet the black-robed man after delivering food and drink to the diners who were in front of him. But I saw him sitting in front of the gray wall, his eyelids hanging slightly. It's not like a meal, it's like a silent mourning.

The wonton stall owner didn't dare to take a closer look for fear of delay, and only secretly glanced at the wonton when he cooked it and brought it to the table, this man was about thirty years old, his face was white and beardless, and his appearance was not so shocking and handsome, only upright, but the quiet and solemn temperament made people can't help but take a closer look. I only felt that when I looked at this man, I felt as if I was holding a fan in early summer, and when I came back to my senses, I realized that I had been stunned for a long time holding the work in my hand.

It's just that this person's body is cold, and he has rejected people for thousands of miles unconsciously.

The wonton stall owner saw him with a small crown of rosewood on his head. Wearing a vegan black silk robe, only the leader was embroidered with dark purple patterns in three places, but the silver and white stick in his hand turned out to be a seven-hole iron flute without decoration.

The black-robed man put the iron flute on his knees respectfully and took the chopsticks for dinner. Ten fingers are trimmed and fitted, clean and tidy. Pick up a wonton with chopsticks and wait quietly. When the hanging wonton is hot, try it. Fang opened his mouth and swallowed, chewing and swallowing slowly. It's not like other diners who spit and the stars fly around, pursing their lips to blow cold.

The wonton stall owner stood beside him and looked at it as a novelty. Suddenly, I saw the man put down the bamboo chopsticks, reached into his sleeve and took out a piece of silver that was light or two and rested on the table, he couldn't help but be stunned for a moment, and raised his eyes to see that he was still not in a hurry to eat with chopsticks, quietly drooping his eyelids, and did not look around even a glance, solemnly as if he was not eating, but mourning.

The owner of the wonton stall was suddenly stunned, and hurriedly waved his hand and smiled: "Ah, not busy, not busy, it's not too late for you to use it and pay for it." ”

The black-robed man didn't speak, nor did he raise his eyes, still solemnly waiting for the wontons to cool naturally.

The owner of the wonton stall was stunned again, and suddenly found that the wontons in the bowl of the black-robed man were missing a small half, and he stood aside and watched the guests eat half a bowl of wontons. The wonton stall owner hurriedly turned around to take care of the business, and was glad that this customer was really good-tempered and self-contained, and he was not angry, and he was not restrained by being stared at.

The black-robed man finally finished a bowl of wontons, and sent the empty bowl and used chopsticks to the wonton stall owner, holding the iron flute in one hand and the heavy silver in the other hand to pay the bill. ”

Picking up a handful of copper coins, he slowly walked into the next iron shop.

After noon, most of the people had finished their lunch and started their business. The blacksmith was also hammered again. The man tapped the iron flute a little on the curtain, and then felt the heat on his face, and he saw the blacksmith guarding the stove and sword in the cold winter, naked and still sweating.

"This minister is polite. ”

The man's eyes were at a loss, and he saw a single-clothed man sitting on a bench smoking a bag of cigarettes by the door.

"Boss?" said the black-robed man.

The man was noncommittal, didn't get up, squinted his eyes and spit out a puff of white smoke, took a mouthful of smoked half-yellow sesame grains, and said with a smile: "What is Xianggong going to do?"

The black-robed man said, "It's easy, hit a bag of meteor darts." ”

The man nodded and smiled: "It's really easy, when will you want it?"

The black-robed man said, "Don't worry. When will it be completed?"

The man thought for a while, "Three days at the earliest." ”

The black-robed man couldn't help but sneer, his eyes narrowing lightly when he smiled, and he smiled slightly like seeing an acquaintance say hello during a silent mourning.

"Too much business to keep busy?" the black-robed man was solemn and polite. "It's okay, when I help you exterminate some sects, you can enjoy peace and quiet. It's the right time, isn't it?"

The man who smoked looked at the man and was smiling leisurely, and his smile suddenly froze. Just like the man in the black robe said, it is not to let him "enjoy leisure", but to "spend his old age in peace". Originally, this was nothing, but in a sense it was a blessing, but the smoking man felt that his original intention was to let himself "have no old age".

"Why, you don't want to be idle?" the black-robed man said again, "Or let me simply get rid of you and let you be idle forever?"

The smoking man's muscles were tight and stiff, he was definitely older than the man in the black robe, and he was definitely stronger than the man in the black robe, and even his temper was much more irritable than the solemn and calm man.

But he just pinched the wooden cigarette stick and let the not-so-cheap tobacco burn in the small copper pot, letting the fine gray-white smoke keep squeezing his still sour eyes, staring at the man from the bottom up. There was a sudden pause in the sound of iron, and the blacksmith looked back at random.

####本书起*point*Chinese*text*net*unique*home*first*send,The rest of the network*sites are pirated * version * infringement * right * reloaded, please readers support the original * version of "Jianghu Salty Talk" address: http://www./Book/1838164.aspx#### (to be continued.) )