Fox Road Travel Notes

Wang Heming and Chen Zican were full of doubts, so they each picked up their bowls and took a sip.

A familiar feeling arose spontaneously, and Chen Zican almost blurted out: "Oh Ma, this isn't Japanese sake!"

Wang Heming's expression was also a little strange, thinking to himself, this jar of wine must be filled with at least half a jar of cold water!

He smiled and said: "Sister-in-law, your Shandong wine is really good."

"It can really make people drink in an instant, get drunk in an instant, wake up in an instant..."

Chen Zican shook the empty altar and said, "Well, no one can deceive anyone!"

"There are three kilograms of paste, exactly one kilogram of wine, one kilogram of water, and one kilogram of bottles..."

Monk Tong laughed.

Only then did the woman realize that she was laughing at the fact that there was too much water in her wine, but she asked for several more jars to prevent her from getting angry.

Anyway, let him laugh and scold me, and I have already earned the money.

He laughed dryly and went back to the house to get some wine.

Chen Zican secretly tapped the woman's leaving back with his thumb.

Holding back his laughter, he whispered, "Is this the man who runs a black noodle shop and wields a 700-pound rolling pin?"

Monk Tong coughed dryly: "Brother, this wine is fake, but that Liuzhou tiger spot sandalwood stick is real."

"If you think about it, if you use that thing to roll dough every day, humming, I guess he can squeeze out the oil even if he holds a stone."

"Besides, we can tell there's something fishy at first sight, so it's better to be careful."

Wang Heming smiled and said: "Third brother is too suspicious. It was just by chance that we passed by."

"In Jiangshan Yiding, there are so many strange people living in seclusion in the market. It's not surprising that you occasionally bump into one or two."

Chen Zican is not like them, he doesn't get surprised after seeing many things. How can he let go of such a strange person so easily?

He encouraged: "Brother Tong, how about we try him again later?"

Monk Tong's eyes shone brightly and he nodded repeatedly.

With so many experts around him, Wang Heming was not afraid of trouble, but he just shook his head helplessly.

Forget it, as long as Chen Zican is happy, let them go.

Not long after, I saw the strong man coming out with a large wooden tray in each hand and six or seven wine jars.

He was unusually tall, with long arms and legs, a dark complexion, and a hint of loneliness and indifference in his expression.

Walking to the table, he gently put the tray down, grabbed a jar of wine, and pushed it to the middle of the table.

His eyes were slightly narrowed, and his gaze was like lightning, slowly passing over the faces of Tong Monk, Wang Heming and Chen Zican one by one.

After a moment of silence, he nodded slightly.

His voice was low: "This jar is given to all guests by the shop."

"Our boss is a widow. It's not easy to live with her. I hope we don't cause trouble for her!"

After that, without waiting for Wang Heming and the others to reply, they picked up the trays, placed two jars on each table, and entered the room without saying a word.

Chen Zican and Wang Heming both stared at his back, confused.

The strong man's words were subtle and polite, but he clearly warned them not to cause trouble. His protective feelings for the woman were beyond words.

Look at him, he's physically strong, but he's depressed.

The charlatanism on his body could not be hidden by a blue cloth coat piled with patches.

Come to think of it, he was once a well-known figure on the road.

But I don’t know why I am so depressed that I am here, rolling dough and working for a little widow.

But Monk Tong stared at the jar of wine in the middle of the table, touching his chin, thoughtfully.

Chen Zican asked: "Third brother, what's wrong?"

Monk Tong whispered: "Pick it up and take a look."

Chen Zican stretched out his hand and wanted to push the wine jar over, but it didn't move at all.

After taking a closer look, I noticed something strange.

He tried to hold the jar with both hands and pull it up. A round pit suddenly appeared on the table.

It is flat and neat, about half an inch deep, and fits perfectly with the bottom of the altar.

Chen Zican and Wang Heming looked at each other in shock.

It turned out that the strong man had already pressed the bottom of the altar half an inch into the table with a seemingly careless release.

Monk Tong knocked on the table with his knuckles, making a clanging sound.

"Songmu. Brother Chen, do you believe it now?"

Chen Zican said in astonishment: "What do you believe?"

"I believe he can squeeze out oil even if he grabs a rock!"

Monk Tong made an obscene gesture of grabbing two eggs and said with a strange smile.

Chen Zican held the jar, looked at the bottom, and asked Monk Tong casually: "Brother Tong, can you do it?"

Monk Tong smiled bitterly and said, "What are you asking! Man, how can you say no?"

"It's just that if I press it, the jar will break..."

Indeed, a master does not matter whether he is practicing at home or outside.

It is not difficult to break this two-inch-thick pine table into pieces.

However, it would be too difficult to press the wine jar into the tabletop while keeping the table intact.

But to press the wine jar into the table, both the wine jar and the table must be kept intact, which is really difficult.

This requires not only profound cultivation, but also the control skills to gather and disperse the true energy at will, and to control it as desired.

Anyone who can do this is definitely a first-class figure in the world.

With Tong Monk's martial arts, if he wants to use his internal power so delicately, he really lacks some skills.

Chen Zican understood, took a long breath, and nodded.

But Monk Tong said with a ferocious smile: "This guy, I don't know what he is doing."

"However, he underestimates my brothers from Dongting Water Village."

"Yes, I, the young monk, asked myself that my martial arts skills are not as good as his, but I am not necessarily afraid of him."

"If you really want to take action and support two sticks of incense, there is no problem."

He pointed with his chin at the black-clad guards sitting around him and sneered.

"If we add a few more crossbows, I'm afraid we won't even need two sticks of incense. He will have to lie down in a cup of tea."

"Want to scare me? Come on, Mr. Tong won't do this..."

After hearing Monk Tong's heroic words, Chen Zican, a meddlesome person who was afraid of chaos in the world, was even more excited and eager to give it a try.

As a candidate hero, he is very curious about the martial arts in this world!

After a while, the strong man came out with more than a dozen bowls of noodles in his hands.

The bowl is a coarse porcelain sea bowl, and the noodles are beef noodle soup.

There are oil flowers floating on it, green onions floating on it, and a few slices of snow-white radish covering it, which makes people move their index fingers.

The big man put down the tray in his left hand steadily without spilling a drop of the overflowing soup.

Chen Zican stared at the bowl of noodles with mixed feelings in his heart.

He is from Guanzhong and likes pasta.

After wandering into this illusion of Taixu Glaze, I often think of this bowl of clear soup beef noodles that I used to eat often.

On the first day he ran out, he asked around in the streets and alleys of Beijing, but no one knew about it.

I never thought that we would meet again by the official road outside this small county today. It felt like a lifetime ago!

In fact, what he didn't know was that the bowl of Chen's beef noodles in front of him was really the ancestor of Lanzhou beef noodles in later generations.

Chen Zican picked out a chopstick noodle, which was really chewy.

Take another sip of the soup, it tastes like beef bones simmered over slow fire, it is delicious and fragrant.

I couldn't help but praise: "Good noodles!"

Wang Heming grew up in a water town in the south of the Yangtze River and had little interest in pasta.

He picked one and put it in his mouth and nodded.

Only Tong Monk used chopsticks to stir the bowl of noodles over and over a few times.

Picking out a piece of meat as thin as a cicada's wings, he put it in front of his eyes and looked at it carefully...

Chen Zican smiled, and it turned out that it was the same style as that of later generations!

He knew that Monk Tong was from the south and did not like to eat noodles, but only liked to eat meat.

He smiled and said: "Eat quickly, it will be good if you can see it."

"Hey, be careful, why are you lifting it so high?"

"Aren't you afraid of being blown away by the wind?"