"Xianbei people are ......"

Old man Lin opened his mouth and stopped. He didn't know much about it, and he didn't know how to explain it to the child in front of him.

After pondering for a moment, he said: "Xianbei people are a kind of people, just like you are a Khitan and I am a Song person. ”

Half-understood, half-understood: "I'm a Khitan, how can I be a Xianbei person?"

"It's not that you are now, but that your ancestors were Xianbei people. Just like the ancestors of our Song people were Han and Tang people. ”

On the contrary, he was even more confused: "My ancestors are from Eile, not from Xianbei. ”

"Eile is a branch of Xianbei, just like Bai Dadan is one of the Khitan tribes, in addition, there are also the Beibu tribe, as well as the Chazara tribe and so on. ”

Old man Lin didn't bother at all, and explained to him slowly.

"I kind of get it. After a little abruptness, he asked rhetorically: "What about you? Your ancestors are also Xianbei people?"

Old man Lin smiled and shook his head slightly.

"Then why do you know how to sing the Song of Ele?"

"Among our Song people, there are historians, literati, and people who are in charge of songs and movements, and they will transcribe beautiful tunes and compile them into a book, which will be passed down for generations. ”

"Is that the "Yuefu Poems" you just said?"

"Exactly. "The Song of Ele" is one of them. Imp, do you know where this song comes from?"

Old man Lin asked with a grin.

Shaking his head, his father only taught him wrestling, herding sheep, and sometimes singing, but never told him this.

"Do you want to know?"

Old man Lin asked, patting the grass beside him and motioning for him to sit down.

Without thinking about it, he sat down beside Old Man Lin.

"It is said that a long, long time ago, during the Northern and Southern Dynasties, there was a Han man named Gao Huan, who married a humble aristocratic woman, and one day he ......"

A warm breeze blew through the hillside, and the smell of grass wafted everywhere.

Under the sun, I listened to the story of Old Man Lin.

……

- "Hey, isn't the lamb all right?"

Daddy shouted impatiently and loudly to bring Tokki back to his senses.

"Alright, come right away!"

Just after cutting the meat, he took a free hand, sighed, and rubbed his palms vigorously.

The wind was bitterly cold, and even through the thick leather shed, he still felt cold.

Just as he was about to bring two plates of mutton in, he stopped and quietly put a few more pieces on one of them.

and the plate was served on a silver platter. Silver plates are usually stored and not used, and are only taken out when there are guests.

The rare guest who visited today was none other than Old Man Lin.

He frowned and thought about it, but felt that it was not enough, so he reached out and grabbed a handful of mutton slices and piled them up.

Yes, it's the "heap".

The lamb on the silver platter had been piled up into a hill.

Only then did he smile with satisfaction.

He likes Old Man Lin.

Strictly speaking, it is "respect".

However, even he couldn't tell what he "respected" Old Man Lin?

What is there to "respect" about a little old man who is weak? Even if a child like him is punched two or three times, he can immediately knock him down. Looking at Old Man Lin's small body, even if he is dozens of years younger, he will not be the opponent of the Tumote Warriors.

However, he just respects Old Man Lin.

Old man Lin will tell him stories, about General Hu Lujin and "Song of Ele", about Hua Mulan joining the army for her father, about Liu Guan and Zhang Taoyuan's worship, and about Guo Ziyi's restoration of the two Beijings......

Old man Lin can also read and write, and he can recognize some of the Khitan and Song languages.

He felt that Old Man Lin knew a lot, a lot.

At this moment, I don't know that what he "respects" is actually knowledge.

When the mutton was brought to the center of the tent, his father glanced at him, pushed his shoulder impatiently, and cursed: "It takes so long to cut two pieces of meat!

Pretending to be afraid, he shrunk his shoulders, and without a trace, he raised his eyebrows at Old Man Lin as a greeting.

Old man Lin nodded and smiled.

Ba Yanjing looked down and found that Old Man Lin had nearly twice as much meat on his plate as he was. Instead of getting angry, he secretly praised him in his heart.

This is the hospitality of the Tomote Ministry!

Unlike those Song people who divided their friends into three, six, nine and so on, in the Tumote Division, as long as it was their own guest, whether the other party was a prince or nobleman, or a peddler and pawn, he had to use the best things to receive them.

The son did not treat the visitor coldly because he was a plainly dressed old man, which made Bayan very pleased.

"Do you even want fur?"

Bayan raised his head and continued the conversation with Old Man Lin.

Old man Lin shook his head and said seriously: "No, I only need hair, not skin." ”

"Huh?"

Bayan was stunned, his eyes widened: "As long as Mao?"

The Song people have always bought sheepskins from them, most of them only need skins, and rarely even belts and wool. Because of the long journey to the Song Kingdom, once the wool is stained with water, it will stink and even grow insects and lice, which is extremely difficult to cook.

As long as the hair does not need to be traded, it is the first time he has encountered it.

"What do you want Mao to do?"

Bayan couldn't help but ask.

Old man Lin pinched a piece of half-fat and half-lean mutton, put it in his mouth, and chewed it for a while before swallowing it, with an endless aftertaste.

After eating, he replied leisurely: "You don't care what you want to do, you sell, I buy, let's negotiate the price, and it's over." ”

Bayan thinks about it too.

Those wool are of little use in the first place. His Hun family used to occasionally twist wool and weave some clothes, but in terms of dense warmth, it was far from being as good as sheepskin, and it was time-consuming and cumbersome. In recent years, cattle and sheep have been sold at a good price, and even his family is too lazy to dispose of the wool.

It's rare for someone to be willing to pay for it, asking so much for what?

"Uncle Lin," Bayan sat up straight and asked seriously, "Your old man should make a price." ”

"Five stones consistently. Old man Lin said.

Bayan thought about it, in fact, it didn't matter what the price was, anyway, it was useless to keep the wool.

However, if someone else makes an offer, he immediately responds, then the person who makes the offer will definitely think that the price is lower.

Speaking of which, this is what his son reminded him of his detachment. Bayan has always been a straight person, and there is no such bend in his heart.

He pretended to groan, and after a while, he frowned and said, "Five hundred dollars consistently." ”

Old man Lin was slightly surprised, and he subconsciously glanced at the detachment. As if he hadn't seen it, he obediently bowed his head and poured wine for them.

"Consistently four hundred dollars. ”

Old man Lin counteroffered.

"Three hundred. ”

"Okay! ”

Bayan was stunned.

For the first time, he felt the joy of bargaining, so he added: "I want Song money." ”

"Of course. ”

Old man Lin smiled, licked the wine, and said, "I won't accept sheepskin in the future, only wool." ”

"Okay!" replied Vayan cheerfully.

It just so happened that a few years ago, the clan raised a batch of curly sheep with a big food, and the amount of wool was hairier than that of ordinary goats and Tubo sheep. If someone came to collect the wool regularly, wouldn't it be easier for him to feed the sheep and not worry about breeding the sheep?

So, Bayan raised his glass to the old man Lin and drank it all.

The tent was hot and warm for a while, and the atmosphere was harmonious.

……