When entering the town, the soldiers guarding the wooden watchtower would not stay on the man or dog for more than two seconds. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 The sheriff who is responsible for spot-checking passing travelers and preventing wanted criminals or bandits from infiltrating the town is too lazy to pay attention to Zhao Mai. Maybe in the eyes of these people, young people and puppies with rumbling bellies are not a threat, right?

He didn't have time to carefully observe the rocky ground of the town, nor did he have the energy to examine the strength and living standards of the inhabitants here, so Zhao Mai's eyes kept looking at various signboards. This is not the earth, education is not universal, illiteracy is widespread. So even if you don't know a word, you can live a normal life here.

The pattern on the signboard explains a lot of things, and one of the signs with a fireplace, roast chicken, and beer completely caught Zhao Mai's attention. "This is it, I can find a place to eat. Reserve grain agreed with Zhao Mai's words, wagged his tail and followed closely behind his master, and walked in with his head held high.

Two maids stand under the sign of the "Fireplace" tavern. When Zhao Mai strode in, the older girl covered her face with her hands. Zhao Mai very politely asked them to get out of the way a little, because he didn't want to hurt them when he entered the store. The young maid giggled, although she understood the meaning of Zhao Mai's body movements, but looking at that clumsy appearance, she didn't look like a really cultured person at all.

They stand at the doorway just to "bump into" the guests who come in and out, and then agree on a bed-related deal in a split second. The older maid's eyes were sharper, she saw Zhao Mai's black pupils, and noticed the black hair peeking out of the edge of the leather hat. This is a very rare physical trait, and rarity means risk. Covering your face means that you are not interested, and that your guests will be discouraged.

This statement was all in vain, and Zhao Mai didn't understand it at all. Even if he guessed the occupations of the two women, he didn't know anything about these routines - after all, he was just a new driver. Inside the tavern, at the end of the noisy hall, a fat man with a big waist and a round waist was wiping the counter. A thick palm holds a huge rag and slides quickly across the table. Although his hands were busy, his small eyes, which had been squeezed into slits, were watching everything here with great concentration.

The tavern is a collection place for all sorts of things, including troubles. Those who wanted to hide their identities would sit in the shadows of the corners, those who wanted to spy on information liked to bake fires around crowded fireplaces, those who wanted to get drunk occupied the tables in the halls, and the wanderers who wanted to put their palms on the buttocks of the maids controlled the sides of the passage from the back kitchen to the antechamber, where their "targets" had to pass.

Zhao Mai picked up the reserve grain, walked straight through the hall, and sat in the most conspicuous place closest to the fat boss. He wanted something to eat, but suddenly found that he didn't know the name of the local dish. After rolling his eyes, he decided to order the least erroneous food: "meat, bread, eggs, and ale!"

"Which stupid kid is this?" Some of the eyes that were originally focused on him gradually dissipated, and they didn't find what they wanted from Zhao Mai, whether it was the opportunity to make money or something else.

He doesn't blame others for looking down on his equipment. Originally, it was an old armor, but because it wasn't tailor-made, it was a little small, and it was tight on the body. Survival work in the jungle and lakeside adds a lot of frills to the armor, including dirt, smoke, and more wear and tear. Only the dagger and axe are slightly thin, and even with a shield, they do not meet the basic equipment of the combatant.

Originally, the heavy sack behind Zhao Mai could attract everyone's attention, but his rookie costume helped a lot, and everyone lost interest in finding out.

The fat boss thinks the same way. After determining that the new guest was not capable of causing trouble, his only concern was whether he would receive the money for the meal.

His voice had a very strange trill, and his fat lips were accompanied by "Pulple", and Zhao Mai's poor hearing was basically useless. But what kind of questions can there be in a tavern, which is nothing more than "do you want to rent a room?" "What do you pay for?"

In many cases, life is like a game, or a game can often distill the most core and easy to happen in life. There is nothing in the tavern that cannot be solved with money other than group fights - if it doesn't, add fists. Zhao Mai estimated that the tavern owner was asking for money, so he opened the dwarf's money bag and showed it to him. The original gold coins in it had already been taken out and placed elsewhere, and only three pieces remained in the money bag. A meal doesn't cost much, and the simple food that Zhao Mai asked for only a few silver coins is enough.

If you have money, you can do things. In a few moments, large pieces of chicken stewed with carrots poured with potato juice, two boiled eggs, brown bread the thickness of a forearm, and a half-prickly ale of ale were served.

Of all the foods, only the ale wine interests Zhao Mai the most. This beer-like drink is made by fermenting roasted barley and is said to have a sweet and textured taste. Ale wine from different regions can fully reflect the local flavors of water and soil. Before this meal, all this was just an introduction that Zhao Mai had read from a book.

He drank cold boiled water all the way, but unfortunately no matter how much he boiled it, the lake water had a strange smell that did not satisfy him completely. Ale wine has long been used as an alternative to water because it is easy to prepare, inexpensive, has a long shelf life, and is nutritious.

Swallowing it in a big gulp, Zhao Mai felt that what he had read before was a bit exaggerated. If the beer I used to drink was fresh orange, then the ale was orange - there was a lot of chewy stuff in it. It's much better than boiling lake water, but it's just as good as it can be eaten. As for the aroma of wine, Zhao Mai didn't taste it much.

It doesn't matter, just think it's water, used for food. The plate in front of me is qualified in terms of color, flavor, and flavor. Zhao Mai clearly saw a few words from the meal: "It's good to eat enough." ”

With hunger as a condiment, you can eat any meal. Zhao Mai picked up the spoon and stuffed it into his mouth, then used ale to help swallow, and ate one in a short time. The reserve grain was divided among the eggs and chicken, and it ate it with great pleasure.

The whole meal is bland, with a strong aroma but no saltiness. Zhao Mai thought for a moment and asked for a large portion of barbecue. He wanted to see what the local food tasted like and find a market for his salt.

Sure enough, even the roast chicken is bland, or it only has the aroma of fat, but there is no good salt to induce. Zhao Mai would not sprinkle salt on food in public, and he had lost his appetite for the time being. With the help of body language, and through the half-baked lingua franca, he rented a room as a foothold, hoping to hire a "local expert" as a temporary servant.

Rubbing the two gold coins in his hand, the fat boss pondered for a moment, and quickly listed the available candidates in his mind. Ferdinand Green, nicknamed "Mad Rat", might just be right.