Yunshui Pavilion, outside the back door of the kitchen, in the alley.

Ouyang Rong stopped for a moment, turned around and was about to return. From the corner of his eye, he saw a few black figures lying in the dirty water in a dark corner at the end of the alley.

The young man in snow-white robes stopped, grabbed a handful of coins from his arms, walked over, and squatted down in front of the black shadow smelling of wine.

"You don't have much money, so you can buy two full meals first. There is a disaster relief camp near the pavilion ten miles outskirts of the city. If you tell me Liu Ashan's name, you can go in and distribute porridge twice a day.

“If you have convenient hands and feet, you can dig new river channels and save some wages. When the folded-wing canal is repaired, there will be many new businesses along the bank.

"If you have trouble with your hands or feet, ask the clerk at the disaster relief camp and they will send you to the Beitian Nursing Home in Donglin Temple. It's quite good there.

"Besides...stop drinking."

Ouyang Rong divided the copper coins into four parts and put them into the hands of the four beggars who were either stunned or numb. He stood up and returned to Yunshui Pavilion.

Except for one beggar whose right hand was broken, the other three beggars stood up on their knees, kowtowed to the back of the young man in snow-white robes, and then trotted out of the alley with happy faces.

The remaining one-armed beggar is an ordinary-looking young man, about 27 or 27 years old.

His hair was disheveled, and his specific expression could not be seen. All he could see was the dirty, hanging black hair, the corners of his mouth drooping to both sides, and his upper lip being very thin.

The young man with the corners of his mouth turned downward grabbed the only copper coins he had and silently climbed up from the ground. His right sleeve was empty and he staggered towards the entrance of the alley.

Under the sunshine at the entrance of the alley, the one-armed beggar did not go to the outskirts of the city like the three beggars just now. He turned left without stopping, ignoring the disgusted looks on the street, and came to the door of the bustling restaurant again, expressionless.

Enter the door with the three-character plaque "Yunshui Pavilion" hanging on it.

"Go! Go! Go."

The waiter put a long towel on his shoulders and waved his hand to chase people away. The next moment, he was hit in the face with a handful of copper coins.

"Osmanthus stuffed with osmanthus."

The one-armed beggar said hoarsely, and walked towards the hot lobby on the first floor without looking back.

"Hey, you bastard..."

The waiter was about to get angry when he realized that what the beggar had thrown was money. He quickly squatted down, counted the copper coins and picked them up. He didn't forget to shout towards the counter, "Give me two jars of sweet-scented osmanthus."

Several strong thugs who were guarding the gate to maintain order saw this and let people in.

The one-armed young man ignored them and stumbled to find an empty bench in the corner of the lobby. He squeezed in unceremoniously and sat down precariously. When the people next to him saw this, they quickly stood up, fearing that they would get dirty and cursed them as bad luck.

All the guests at the table were empty, and they left cursing.

The dirty young man was indifferent.

He rested his left arm on his knees, leaned his upper body forward, and lowered his head. His long, greasy black hair fell to the ground beside his worn shoes.

The young man wandered here in a trance from Yunmengze, a small island with a peach valley.

I haven't taken a shower for many days. I'm drunk and living on the streets.

He doesn't even know where this place is.

I don't know whether I went south or north.

But he was afraid to go north...

The wine is coming.

Two pots of the very familiar sweet-scented osmanthus brew.

The one-armed young man stepped on a pot of wine with his left foot, held a pot of wine in his right arm, and drank heavily with his head raised.

You read that right, it's the "right arm" holding an oval wine bottle.

The young man's right forearm was broken and his sleeve was empty.

But the small part that sticks out of the cuff is extraordinarily flexible and can do many things, including holding a huge wine bottle and drinking gurglingly.

It seems that he has already become accustomed to it.

Except, of course, not being able to hold a sword.

Moreover, the remaining section of the one-armed young man's right arm is indeed very small, just like a piece of dead wood from an old tree growing on a mature tree full of vitality.

Compared with the other thick tree trunk, which is the left arm, this small section of the right arm is very short.

Obviously, this is the result of breaking his arm when he was young, not a new injury.

In the west corner of the lobby, the scene of a broken arm holding a pot and drinking wine attracted the attention of many tea drinkers on the west side, who were amazed.

The one-armed young man who just raised his head to pour the wine ignored him, letting the light yellow color and fragrant wine overflow his mouth and nose, and washed his face and hair.

He has nothing left.

The beloved sword is lost.

The middle-grade Qi practitioner was discouraged.

The proud and high-spirited face was gone.

The young man was only left with the wine poured into his esophagus and stomach bag.

And the dream that will be shaken and tossed around later.

"The candle in the snow...you are so cruel..."

He seemed to mumble, but unfortunately he choked on the drink, coughed wildly, and his stomach suddenly seemed to be scratched by a big hand. All the drink spurted out, and the table was soaked with vomit.

The one-armed young man was lying on the table, his dirty face flat on the table, and spitting out acidic water like water arrows from his mouth from time to time, like a stranded goldfish that was dying.

But this is the stomach pouch twitching, it's just a natural physiological reaction.

When the diners and tea guests around him saw this, they looked with disdain on their faces and did not pay attention to such rotten drunkards. There were many such people every day in the Western Market beside Penglang Watana.

The one-armed young man lying on the table used his free left hand to reach down and fish out the remaining pot of sweet-scented osmanthus wine. Unfortunately, when he coughed just now, the pot of wine was kicked over by his right foot and rolled far away.

Where can I catch it with short hands?

The young man with the corners of his mouth turned downwards, his side face facing the direction of Chang'an, murmuring:

"Vomit... wine... my wine... sweet-scented osmanthus stuffed... sweet-scented osmanthus stuffed... sweet-scented osmanthus stuffed stuffed with sweet-scented osmanthus..."

His name is Ajie, and he is a swordsman.

Come from Chang'an and go to Yunmeng Jianze.

Asking for a sword in a valley full of peach blossoms.

In front of hundreds of sword cultivators from the ten realms of the world, he was trampled under the feet of a Wuyue female cultivator named Xuezhongzhu, and was severely humiliated.

Later, he was kicked off the high platform like garbage and his sword was confiscated.

Become the target of this Yunmeng female queen who is more powerful than the edge of a sword to establish her power and fame.

In the corner of the lobby on the first floor of Yunshui Pavilion, a drunken young man singing Chang'an ballads suddenly murmured:

“…Osmanthus Lady…Osmanthus Lady makes sweet-scented osmanthus wine…eh…where’s the sword…where’s my sword…”

…

The young magistrate who returned to the window on the second floor did not know that his private money coins had been exchanged for two cans of Yunshuige's signature osmanthus brew.

When he returned to the table, his first words were to say sternly to Yan Liulang:

"We will expand the Beitian Nursing Home in Donglin Temple later. The county government should provide more support. There are still many homeless and disabled people in Longcheng."

Yan Liulang, who was looking at the beautiful sunset over the ancient ferry outside the window, was stunned and nodded, "Ah, okay, Mingfu, I will go back and contact Donglin Temple."

"Okay, let's not talk about business anymore."

Ouyang Rong nodded, looked at the dishes on the table in front of him, took out a pair of chopsticks, and said with a smile:

"Don't wait for me, eat quickly, eat with chopsticks, you're welcome."

Except for Liu Ashan, who was silent and very obedient, picking up the vegetables with chopsticks, Yan Liulang and Su Dalang looked at each other, and the former said with a look of despair:

"Mingfu, I didn't wait for you, we just tasted it, it was too... too spicy."

The two swallowed.

My mouth can handle it, but Ju doesn’t agree with it.

Ouyang Rong laughed, "I'm afraid of the spiciness. Well, you can't do it."

He glanced at the dishes on the table.

Unexpectedly, this Yunshui Pavilion still has some familiar dishes from my hometown.

Ouyang Rong sniffed it, and it seemed to be okay. It looked decent, with good color, fragrance and taste.

However, there are no chili peppers in this part of the world, and spicy dishes are made with Sichuan peppercorns, peppers, Vietnamese peppers, etc.

So, that’s it?

It's just a little spicy, nothing worth mentioning.

"Then you can order some more light dishes, and I'll take care of them."

The young county magistrate, whose mouth has become quieter in the past two months, shook his head gently and gave instructions calmly.

"It's okay. Let's order a slightly spicy dish. Brother Lianghan can eat it too."
To be continued...