The windy spring in the north blows through this nameless town every day, leaving a patch of white and pink on the streets full of peach and plums. Pen, Fun, Pavilion www.biquge.info a wine flag fluttering in the wind by the tree, but the words "Liu Ji Buns" are written, a small shop under its is not very bright, a small stall in front of the store is not very lively, a few drawers of buns are placed on the desk, a woman stands behind the stall, the gray headscarf on her head hangs a few broken flowers, the smile on her face is mixed with a few vicissitudes of life, and she sells in the wind.

It's not a bustling road, only a few passers-by are scattered here, and every time someone passes by, her shouting is a little higher, and her smile is a little sweeter. But her gaze would sweep over the faces of passers-by and quickly drift to their waists, and she would stop her mouth as soon as she saw a dangling waist tag hanging there. Small businessmen like her would never like to receive that kind of guest, and their waist cards are a proof of eating and drinking, because they are cultivators, and they are naturally superior to others.

For cultivators, it is indispensable to nourish the soul with star energy and the body with grains. Although the name of the valley is the valley, it is a valley that nourishes the soul of the gods, and it cannot replace food, so the cultivators are not immortals who do not eat the fireworks of the world, they also have to eat and drink. But it is unlikely that they should be allowed to trade with mortals in a proper manner. The absolute repressive force made some people disdain to abide by the business rules of equal trade, although the "Heavenly Master Law" promulgated by the Great Zhou Empire repeatedly emphasized that monks and mortals should buy and sell fairly, but it was always difficult to put an end to the use of forced buying and selling, and stealing by skill. Fortunately, in the area with a high concentration of monks, the law enforcement is relatively strict, and it is easy for the vendors to make friends or hire practitioners to escort them, and ordinary people do not dare to act recklessly. But in this kind of northern town, where there are basically no cultivators, occasionally a guy with an iron plate on his waist comes and is a lawless existence.

The iron plate means that the cultivation is within the three spirals, which is the primary certificate issued by the Heavenly Master of the Great Zhou Empire. Three to six spins are bronze medals, and then there are silver medals, gold medals, and so on. Of course, these brands have undergone special treatment, which is by no means different from ordinary gold, silver, copper and iron, and can be forged and kneaded at will. The woman who sells steamed buns has only seen the iron plate, and there have been a few qualified children in the town over the years, although they have all left the town to practice, but occasionally there are those who come back to save their relatives, and at that time they have a Tianshi iron card hanging on their waists and swaggering through the town. In addition, since doing business, she has also seen some passing "Iron Celestial Masters", but in previous years, she only saw one or two a year, but now she sees two or three a day, and they are all rushing to the southeast, which makes her a little uneasy. She doesn't care what they rush to do, she only cares about her own business. It's a small business with little profit, and she sends a few drawers of buns to the heavenly masters every day, and it won't be long before she closes the door.

Looking up at the corner of the street, two little beggars in ragged clothes were circling around the neighborhood again. In the past, she would give them one or two buns, but she was reluctant to do so for a while, and it was really difficult to make a living.

Because this area is adjacent to Guangyang County, it is common for teenage street children to cross the border of the county to beg. They are all children who have been abandoned by their parents. The Great Zhou royal family required each county to strictly limit the population, and mortals were not allowed to have more than three children, so as to avoid overchildbearing due to the pursuit of children who could practice. Dongting County had strict policies, but Guangyang County was much more relaxed, and the county marquis Zuo deliberately produced more cultivators under his rule, ignoring excessive fertility, resulting in many mortal families having more than ten children. Because parents cannot afford to support them, once they are found to be incompetent at the age of nine, these children are kicked out to earn a living, and some are even abandoned by their families at an even younger age. Dongting County has set up many sentry posts at the junction with Guangyang County to prohibit street children from entering the country, but after all, some people still take advantage of the negligence of the guards to smuggle in.

The woman heard from a homeless child that there were too many beggars in Guangyang County, most of them could not get food, and people walking on the country roads would often see children who were starving to death, and they would rather be beaten to death by the border guards than starved to death. The woman was sad about it for many days. It's really hard to imagine that the county dozens of miles away, a line away, is like this. Those parents who are not greedy enough are really hateful, and these children who are not clothed and hungry are really pitiful. However, she also has three children to raise, and she really doesn't have much to take care of them.

Especially now.

She frowned as she looked at the beggar who was slowly walking in the distance. The beggar was older, and although his face was covered with mud, his slender figure and vague eyebrows still indicated that he was fifteen or sixteen years old. He carried in his arms a half-broken crockpot, which contained something black, like dirt. He glanced at the steaming bun on the table from a distance, and the Adam's apple slid up and down, apparently swallowing.

The woman quickly turned her face away from him, feeling guilty for not wanting to give alms, and worried about whether the young man would come hungry and grab the buns. Out of the corner of her eye, the boy slowly walked across the street and sat down, looking down at the crockpot in his hand, as if thinking about something. Another little beggar also came from a distance, no more than seven or eight years old, skinny and skinny, staring at her stall with blank eyes.

Women have the urge to pack up and close their doors. She is soft-hearted, and she can't see this the most, but she can only pretend not to see it. At this time, the sound of horses' hooves came from far and near, and she was like a life-saving straw, raised her head, smiled, and beckoned to the direction where the horse was galloping: "The guest officer rests his feet, come to a drawer of steamed buns, and the new ones are out of the pot...... Bun. ”

She paused in the middle of the shout, and her voice faded. Because she saw a red horse coming from the dust, the man on the horse was dressed in splendid and mighty clothes, and an iron plate at his waist was swaying up and down with the horse's hooves.

Practitioners!

The woman's heart moved, and she closed her mouth very obediently, but it was too late, and the man who heard the shouting looked at her and pulled the reins, and the red horse raised its head and neighed, stopped galloping, and slowly approached with kicking steps. The man didn't get off the horse, and shouted directly on the horseback: "Boss, let's have a bun to taste!" As if he was afraid that the woman would not see his identity, he also deliberately shook the iron waist card, which reflected the noon daylight, and there were ten colors of starlight that swirled like a rainbow, piercing the woman's pupils.

Cultivators are not all fighting the autumn wind and eating white food, but those who hang the sign outside like this so that others will not see it are undoubtedly experts in the autumn wind. But there is no way for women, mortals are born inferior, and compared with monks, they are simply another lowly species, and they cannot be disobeyed at all. Although she didn't see it in person, she also knew many things that were beaten to death by monks if they didn't agree with mortals, and no matter how fragrant the buns were, no human life was worth anything. She hurriedly lowered her eyebrows and smiled, took a bun and walked around the stall and handed it to the man on the horse, and said respectfully: "It's rare for the Heavenly Master to appreciate the light, please use it slowly." ”

The voice was sweet and soft, spreading into the east wind and flying through the streets with the falling red. The young man sitting on the opposite side suddenly raised his head, and suddenly his eyes brightened a little.

Immediately, the man took the bun and broke it with the heat, revealing the shiny filling, and the overflowing fragrance immediately filled the street. The red horse shook his head restlessly and lifted his hooves. The man ate half of the bun, but threw the other half into the horse's mouth, which was swallowed by the jujube red horse. The fragrant meat buns fed the horse, which made the woman frown, but she immediately thought that it was probably because the other party thought it tasted bad, so it was best not to give away more hard-earned money in vain. But just when she was secretly happy, the man turned over and jumped off the horse, and said to her: "First come three drawers of buns, one drawer for me, and two drawers for it!"

It, naturally, refers to the jujube red horse.

The woman unconsciously let out an "ah", then nodded, turned around, and continued to take the bun with her eyebrows lowered, but her hands trembled slightly.

One drawer for men, two for horses. She admitted to giving away a few drawers of steamed buns, but the steamed buns that no one could eat had to be fed to the horses, and she felt sad and sad. But she didn't dare to ask, don't horses eat forage? Shall I find some forage for the Heavenly Master's horse to eat? The other party's tone was unquestionable, so she could only obey the order unconditionally, brought two drawers of buns to the horse, and brought another drawer, carefully led the man into the store, and found a clean table for the other party to sit down.

"Bring me a pot of hot tea, and some water for my horse. The man commanded again.

"Hey!" the woman agreed, neatly served tea to the man, and brought another basin of water outside.

The horse is eating steamed buns, with a big mouth and a mouthful, eating juicy and fragrant all over the street, which reminds people of "cow chewing peonies". The thin, ragged beggar had approached, his eyes fixed on the munching horse, a dirty finger in his mouth, saliva dripping down the finger and dripping down the corner of his mouth. He was approaching the horse, apparently hungry and desperate for a bun, and he was going to grab the horse's bun. But the stout horse's hooves are absolutely fatal to him, as long as he is touched he will turn into a corpse, even if the horse does not kick him, how can a cultivator tolerate a little beggar to steal the food of the beloved horse?

The little beggar's actions frightened the woman. She put down the basin and ran to stop in front of him, shouting, "Don't, I'll give you food!"

The little beggar was also startled by her, and stopped to look up at her, his eyes first panicked, and then quickly turned into longing. Soon, two white hot buns were handed to him. He quickly grasped one by one, glanced warily at the boy across the street, and turned and ran to the corner where no one was around.

The woman sighed. She couldn't watch this poor child go to death, not to mention that compared with the two drawers of buns given to the horse, the two gifts to the little beggar not only did not make her feel distressed but also made her happy. It's all a loss, and she'd rather give all the buns to the hungry beggars.

Let's close the shop for the time being tomorrow, these days have made the cultivators mess up their business, and it will be impossible to see that more and more monks will pass by here in the future. Thinking like this, she took two more buns from the drawer, turned to the young man opposite and shouted, "Come, come here!"

The young man kept looking at this side, his eyes were a little dull, revealing some indescribable emotions. Her shout seemed to wake the boy from his fugue, and the boy's eyes flashed, and his dull eyes suddenly became extremely vivid, like spring flowers reviving and ice lakes thawing, flashing unobtrusive but heartwarming colors. The woman was involuntarily stunned, and then she saw the young man slowly stand up, holding the half-broken crockpot, and walk towards her.

It's just that a cold snort suddenly came from the small shop behind her, which scared her hands and scared, and the buns almost fell to the ground: "Hmph, there are less than three drawers of buns left, and my horse and I are not enough, you still go to feed these little flowers!"