However, it is okay to eat a meal once in a while, and it is really disgusting to eat every day.

In particular, the corn kernels are not peeled when they are crushed, and they taste very rough, a little tooth-resting, and have a sour taste, which is very difficult to swallow.

If it weren't for the lack of a choice, he really didn't want to eat it.

Thinking about things in my heart, I ended up eating violently, and I got stuck in my throat and screamed.

Wang Manyin hurriedly climbed down the earthen kang, rushed to the water tank, scooped a scoop of cold water, and poured a few sips, and finally went down.

In fact, it is quite good to have corn nests to eat, and now many people in Jar Village can't even eat this, and more black nests made of sorghum are made.

It is even more unpalatable, has a bitter taste, is difficult to digest in the stomach, and can easily cause constipation.

Happiness is all contrast......

After eating a corn nest and storing food in his stomach, Wang Manyin finally felt that he had landed.

Next, he carefully fastened the remaining nests, and pressed another stone on top of the pot. This is done mainly to prevent rats.

Rats can be called the first of the "four pests", and they definitely live up to their name.

Wang Manyin was taken aback when he first arrived: these guys were very rampant, crawling on the pot table in broad daylight to steal food.

A corn nest gnaws two bites from the middle, and also sprinkles mouse urine on the side, leaving a few grains of mouse droppings. The smell made Wang Manyin almost sick to the point of vomiting.

At night, these guys are even more lawless, as if they are having a meeting in a cave, squeaking and squeaking non-stop. Even running around on torn quilts in the middle of the night.

What made Wang Manyin even more speechless was that when he cleaned up the cotton boots yesterday, he found that there was a nest of rat cubs that had not opened their eyes, and the cotton wool was bitten through.

The predecessor was surprisingly lazy, and there were more than a dozen rat holes dug under the cave walls, but he never cared about it.

In the past few days, Wang Manyin has continued to seal the hole with small stones and soil lumps, and finally let the rats settle down.

However, the method of sealing the cave is not a cure for the symptoms, and he plans to find time to raise a cat.

***

The red sun is rising, and the Loess Plateau in late autumn is unusually desolate.

Wang Manyin stood on the top of the cave and looked up, the mist curled, and he was greeted by a rolling earthy brown mountain beam, stretching to the end of the sky.

A little closer, there are layers of steamed bread-shaped mountains.

Faint shades of green can be seen in it, which is winter wheat that has just sprouted and weeds that have not yet completely died.

A small river meanders through a ravine, which is the Dongla River mentioned in the book. Hundreds of households in Jarzi Village are scattered on the mountainside, in the middle of the ditch and the cliffside.

Smoke wafts from the top of many people's caves, and they are making breakfast.

Wang Manyin's cave is dug outside the village, and the left and right sides do not rely on neighbors, and the nearest Wang Qiusheng family is also fifty or sixty meters away, and there is a deep ditch in the middle.

What's going on with the two families, they all shouted across the ditch.

Today is the fifth day of the Lunar New Year, which is the day of the Shibi Festival Commune.

According to memory, the Shibi Festival Commune is held every five days (the fifth, fifteenth, and twenty-fifth days of the lunar calendar), and the rest of the time the streets are deserted.

Of course, if farmers want to buy salt, kerosene and other daily necessities, they can go directly to the supply and marketing cooperatives.

Moreover, the management of the bazaar is relatively strict, and many private people are not allowed to buy and sell, except for some things that farmers produce and sell themselves.

However, where there is demand, there is trade, and there is still a pigeon market in the Shibi Festival commune. Counting the spontaneous formation of the people of ten miles and eight villages, the same is opened every five days, and it is generally completed before breakfast.

If Wang Manyin wants to buy local chickens, he must go to the pigeon market as soon as possible.

Therefore, he deliberately put a blue cardinal shirt on the outside of the torn cotton jacket. This is the only decent piece of clothing in the predecessor, and I am usually reluctant to wear it at all.

The village is seven or eight miles away from the Shibijie Commune, the distance is not far, but there is no serious road, the ditches and ravines are tossed back and forth, and it takes about half an hour to walk.

Wang Manyin went to the pigeon market at this time, and it was already a little late.

As soon as he got down to the dirt road, he saw an old man walking slowly with a dung basket on his back. The other party is wrapped in a greasy white sheep's belly handkerchief, wearing a torn sheepskin jacket, and a hemp rope tied around his waist, the standard image of an old farmer on the Loess Plateau.

This old man's name is Wang Mancang, he is over 60 years old this year, his body and bones are okay, and he is also diligent, and he basically carries a dung basket to pick up dung everywhere before dawn every day.

At this time, I have already picked up a small half basket.

Wang Mancang also has two younger brothers named Wang Manchu and Wang Manyao.

By generation, he is the eldest brother of his predecessor. The same great-ancestor, not yet out of five suits.

In fact, most of the families in Jarzi Village have the surname Wang, and the clan relationship is relatively simple. It's really one ancestor.

Because of this, Wang Manyin is fooling around all year round, and the village turns a blind eye.

Walking closer, Wang Manyin greeted with a smile: "Brother Mancang, pick up dung, get up so early to earn work?" ”

That's right, you can also earn a share of the work by picking up manure.

Crops and flowers depend on fertilizer.

In these years, chemical fertilizers are in short supply, and fertilizer in the fields is basically based on soil manure.

The production team called on all households to pick up dung, and more than a dozen catties of manure can be worth a farmer's share, and it will be weighed uniformly at the beginning of spring.

In other words, the old man was busy all morning and earned about five cents.

"It's you coward, you don't do anything serious all day long, what are you running nonsense?" Wang Mancang glanced at him with slanted eyes, obviously disgusted.

The diligent guy loved by the croppers.

For this kind of ghost, the old man obviously doesn't look down on it.

Twenty years ago, it is estimated that he would have starved to death.

What's even more unreasonable is ...... A few days ago, when he was working in the team, he heard that such a coward was married to the eldest daughter of Sun Yuhou's family in Shuangshui Village.

Wang Mancang really couldn't understand what Sun Yuhou liked about this second-rate son.

Wang Manyin was also speechless, and the other party said three sentences with two words of "毬".

In the future, you will definitely think that you are deliberately scolding.

But this year is normal, it is completely verbal. Just like what is said in "Seven Strokes", "words are inseparable".

"You're busy, I'll go to the commune to catch the market." Wang Manyin replied. Knowing that people don't look down on him, he doesn't plan to make small talk.

After saying hello, he hurried along the dirt road.

By the time the sun was rising on the ridges, he had already arrived at the commune of Shibijie.

The pigeon market is located in a cliff ditch outside the commune, and large jujube forests are planted at the exits on both sides, which are just used as shelters. In addition, there are people who are specially guarding the outside to help watch the scene.

Others who want to go in and buy and sell things need to pay 5 cents for the venue.

The former was a frequent visitor here, and he is familiar with it.

Now in the slack season, there are really a lot of people who come to the pigeon market, and there are hundreds of them.

The dress is very simple, basically black, yellow, and blue.

Those who wore torn patches and cotton jackets and had gray faces naturally belonged to the peasants of the nearby villages. There are also people who wear blue kaji cloth, which is supposed to be the town's commercial food.

This situation is normal, and now the grain is supplied in fixed points.

Many children in the family who eat commercial grain are not enough to eat at all, and they also have to come to the pigeon market to buy high-priced grain.

Wang Manyin glanced at it twice and found that the items were quite rich.

There are those who sell inverted tickets, those who sell cotton wool and cotton cloth, those who sell tobacco leaves, those who sell grain and vegetables, and those who sell hand-woven wicker baskets, dung baskets, dustpans, and so on.

There are also piglets, lambs, chickens, etc., for sale......

In a word, apart from the fact that it does not sell industrial products, it is almost no different from the bazaar of later generations.

Seeing Wang Manyin appear, a few familiar people immediately came over to say hello. The cat looks for the cat, the dog looks for the dog, and the turtle follows the king.

These people are all famous ghosts in ten miles and eight villages, and they have a good relationship with the original Wang Manyin.

After chatting with them for a few words, Wang Manyin went straight to a woman with a blue headscarf on her face and a floral cotton jacket on her face.

"Eldest sister, how do you sell these two local chickens?"

"A pound for a piece." The woman apparently inquired and directly called out the real price.

For the market of local chickens, Wang Manyin naturally knows that there are seven cents a pound in the supply and marketing cooperative, but he wants a meat ticket. In the pigeon market, a pound and a dollar are considered a fair price.

He has agreed in his heart, but he has come and come, and it is unprofessional not to make a price without dates.

"How's Jiumao?"

"No, one less piece is not sold. I inquired before I came, and it was all at this price. "The women didn't give a penny.

"Okay, just one piece." Wang Manyin did not insist any longer.

For him, the pigeon market is over soon, and it is the right thing to get his hands on as soon as possible.

The difference is a few cents, and it doesn't matter.

Next, the woman carried two local chickens to the steward of the pigeon market and asked the other party to help weigh and settle the accounts.

At present, most of the rural people of the older generation have never gone to school, and there are many who are illiterate and cannot settle accounts.

That's right, in this era, the pigeon market also helps to weigh and settle accounts for free.

Based on this alone, Wang Manyin knew that the guy hidden behind the scenes was a talent, and the service concept absolutely crushed the people in the supply and marketing cooperative.

Two chickens weighed six pounds and cost less than seven yuan.

After clearing the money and goods, Wang Manyin came to an old man selling chickens again......

It is said that the predecessor has been wandering around in the past few years, and he has saved more than 100 yuan and more than 30 catties of food stamps.

Wang Manyin came to the pigeon market and spent twenty.

In addition to the three chickens, there are ten catties of white flour and more than 20 catties of cornmeal.

He was originally interested in a pig seller, but after calculating the funds in hand, he temporarily dismissed his idea. Again, raising pigs is not the same as raising chickens, and there will be no benefits for at least a few months. And this thing is a big-bellied man, who eats grass every day and doesn't grow fat, and has to be fed wheat bran and bran, and he has nothing to feed himself.

At this point, it's almost time for Pigeon City to end.

Wang Manyin did not continue to wander, but swayed out of the jujube grove with the things he bought, said hello to the young man guarding the door, and turned into a fork in the road where no one was.

Turning over the mountain and looking around, he threw the things in his hand directly into the space.

The native chickens did not dare to spread for the time being, mainly for fear that they would peck at the crop seedlings.