Farmer of Shu Han

"My boy, let me ask you, do you know where the nearest Zhuangzi is?"

The middle-aged man shrank his neck, looked at the nobleman in the car, and then at the waiter, he couldn't say anything.

"This kid, could he be a mute?" The waiter frowned, and turned to look at the nobleman in the car, "My lord, I'm afraid this young man can't speak, let me ask someone else."

The nobleman in the car raised his head and was about to speak, but noticed that the half-sized boy was holding a small half-headed man. He let out a "huh" and said, "Ah Wu, what is the boy holding in his hand is food? What about you?" Bring it and let me see."

At the same time, I was wondering, along the way, all I saw were ripe wheat, and I thought that the common people would not have eaten, but why did I find that there were still people eating dirt here? Could it be that he was treated harshly by the master?

Since the promulgation of "Shu Ke", although the law enforcement in central Shu is strict, the people have no complaints, only because of fairness and justice. If there are people who don't have enough to eat when they are mature, it will definitely affect the reputation of the prime minister and His Majesty. When he encounters this matter, he may not ask clearly.

Seeing the waiter reaching out to take it, the half-child subconsciously wanted to hide his hand behind his back.

"Hey, you little man, just looking at what you have in your hand, and it's not robbing you, what are you afraid of? Let's take a look, it will be of your benefit!"

Because of his fear of the nobleman, the middle-aged man finally handed over the remaining steamed buns.

"My lord, this food is really weird." The waiter put the small piece of barbarian head in his hand and looked at it, then turned and handed it to the owner in the car.

The originally white steamed bun was once held in the hands of a half-sized man, and the surface has become gray and black. If you don't pay attention, it looks like a piece of dirt.

The nobleman turned a blind eye to the dirt on the surface of the steamed bun. He gently opened the steamed bun, put it under his nose and smelled it, and picked up a small piece and chewed it carefully in his mouth.

"This food..." The nobleman's eyes lit up, feeling the sweetness in his mouth, he couldn't help picking up a slightly larger bun and putting it in his mouth, and asked the half-sized man at the same time, "Is this pasta?"

"My lord, this young man is dumb and can't speak." The waiter quickly replied.

"I...I'm not dumb." The half-child choked out a sentence.

waiter:……

"Come here now," the nobleman beckoned with a gentle smile, "I'll ask you a few words. If you answer well, I'll give you this steamed cake, how about it?" Saying that, the nobleman took out a steamed cake from the car, "I ask you, is this pasta? Who made it?"

"Your honor, nobleman, this is pasta, called Mantou, made by the master." The half-assed boy stammered.

"Why is it called Mantou? Then who is your main family?"

"Because the master said that this one looks like the head of a barbarian, so it's called a man's head. The master's surname is Feng, and this is Feng Zhuang. Well, that's it." The half-sized man pointed to Feng Yong who was fishing in the distance. , directly sold the owner's house on the spot.

"Okay, this is for you." The nobleman happily handed over the steamed cake, and at the same time said to the waiter, "Go, go and see the master of the Feng family."

"The lord has a noble status. If you think about it, the head of the Feng family is only a wealthy family in the countryside. Why do you need to go there in person? Just call him over." The waiter waited until the half-baby ran away, and then persuaded the master.

"You don't understand." The master waved his hand with a pensive look on his face, "Let's go and have a look first, maybe he is a widow."

The waiter laughed and said: "If you are really a sage, why did you not have a reputation before? I think it is because I knew that the lord is going to patrol the four directions, so I came here briskly, and I can't let go of my airs, so I used this method to attract the lord's attention."

The nobleman pointed to the waiter and said with a smile: "What do you know? I don't care whether he did it on purpose or not. What I care about is this manhead. If this mantou is really made by wheat flour, it can't be said to be a great achievement. .”

"My lord, what does this have to do with great merit?" the waiter asked strangely as he helped the nobleman straighten the sword around his waist.

"Since this mantou is food for the tenants, it must be easy and simple to make. I tasted it just now, it is very soft and delicious, and it is better than steamed cakes, not to mention the wheat rice that ordinary people eat (the ancient people ate it) One of the staple foods in China is to cook millet or wheat directly without shelling, and eat the bran together, which is extremely unpalatable). Since it is pasta, it is naturally more filling than millet. If this method can be used in the army, Being able to satiate one's stomach and not easily lower morale in the army (there is a record in the Southern and Northern Dynasties that people were coaxed by feeding soldiers with wheat rice), what is it if this is not a great achievement?"

The float first moved a few times, and then floated quietly on the water again. After a while, it suddenly sank into the water. The carp was caught out of the water in this way, shining golden in the western sun.

Feng Yong grabbed the fish, looked at it, sighed, and threw it in his hand. The carp he just caught was thrown back into the water like this. He doesn't like to eat carp. He thinks the meat of carp is too soft and has too many thorns.

"May I ask if the gentleman in front is Feng Langjun?"

There was a voice in his ears, Feng Yong didn't turn his head, and rebaited the hook with a low voice—the guy didn't even realize that he was calling him.

When he threw the hook back into the water, he was still thinking, Feng Langjun? who is this When did someone with the same surname as me come here?

Thinking of this, I suddenly felt a sudden bump in my heart, what the hell...couldn't it be called myself? Turning his head, he saw a man in his thirties standing not far away and looking at him. He was dressed in extraordinary clothes. The most important thing was that he wore a ribbon in front of his abdomen and a decorated sword on his waist. This meant that this guy It's an official, but I don't know how big the official is?

On the official road not far behind, a waiter was standing beside the bullock cart, glaring at him.

It seems that he is really called himself, Feng Yong just remembered that he is still not used to the address of this era, Feng Langjun, he has never heard others call him a few times, okay?

This can only be blamed on him being a local turtle in the countryside. Ordinary people don't know how to call him that, and they don't dare to call it that. And who would come here to visit him? That's why he didn't realize for a moment that they were greeting him.

"Is the elder calling me?" Feng Yong quickly saluted the visitor and asked.

"There is no one else here except you and me. Who else can I call you?" Although he was ignored at first, the other party still had a gentle smile, showing extremely high self-cultivation.

"Oh, I'm so rude!" Feng Yong hurriedly cupped his hands and apologized, "I was so obsessed with fishing that I didn't notice the elders. I'm really rude."

"It's okay, it's okay, I took the liberty to disturb you." The visitor came slowly, with his upper body upright and still, his steps were not in a hurry, showing his dignity.

"The kid is exactly Feng Yong. How dare you ask who is the elder? How can I ask the kid for advice?" His demeanor is not comparable. Anyway, he is young, so he should simply treat himself as a junior.

The visitor walked up to Feng Yong, looked carefully at Feng Yong, and felt a little surprised, this boy was so young, it seemed that he was thinking too much, he couldn't be the sage he imagined, and he was a little disappointed at the moment.

"My surname is Ma. I just came here to ask, did you make this thing?" The visitor said, stretching out his right hand, and there was a black and unknown substance in his palm.

"What is this?" Feng Yong was a little confused, thinking when did I make such a thing? Lao Tzu is a well-known mental illness, could it be that someone has nothing to do and came to find himself for entertainment?

"Didn't you make this thing? Could it be that you are not the owner of the Feng family?" The visitor was disappointed with doubts.

"The boy is of course the owner of the Feng family, but when did you make this thing?" Feng Yong carefully looked at the things in the opponent's hand,

Feeling a bit familiar, "The elder, who did you hear that I made this thing?"

"I am the farmer here."

I rely on! Feng Yong slapped his thigh, how can I say it looks familiar, who the hell is so disgusting? Put a good layer of mud on the steamed buns?

"Oh! I'm ashamed, it turns out that this is Mantou. Of course it was made by a kid, but..." Feng Yong looked at the other party suspiciously, "This Mantou is pure white in nature, why is it covered with a layer of dirt now? So The boy didn't recognize it all at once."

What the hell... The other person's face turned dark all of a sudden, what do you mean by that look in your eyes? Could it be that I am so unbearable to eat this kind of unclean food when I join the army alone? Can I tell you I was snatched from a child?

"Never mind that, I'm here because I have some doubts about this thing called Mantou. I want to ask you. Is it convenient?"

"The elders have questions, but the boy dare not hide his secrets." Feng Yong hastily bowed his hands and bowed. He has been here for a long time, and he also knows a lot of etiquette. In particular, the Han Dynasty ruled the world with filial piety, and disrespecting the elders would have a bad reputation.

The other party nodded in satisfaction. Although this son lives in the countryside, he is a polite person. He presumably has studied, so he opened his mouth to express his doubts.