The blind box of the plane was exposed, and foreigners cried for entry into China

"Come here! Prepare the horses!"

Zhao Lingyun ordered his personal guards to arrange for someone to take his place on duty, and he returned home to change into casual clothes. He then rode towards the official road with a group of personal guards.

Two flowers bloom, one branch each.

Zhang Erquan ran for two chapters with great difficulty and finally arrived at the teahouse which was only a quarter of an hour away from the city in the third chapter.

The closer I got, the more alluring the aroma became, the cravings in my stomach making even my tongue restless. Zhang Erquan gazed at the strange stone house next to the Grandpa Teahouse for a fleeting moment before his eyes were drawn to the bathtub-sized iron pot in the open space in front of it. There was no way around it: red lard simmered, and a swirling red spice of unknown origin stirred. Every swirl of that churning stirred his taste buds...

Zhang Erquan dismounted and tied the carriage to the wooden post at the entrance to the teahouse. He headed straight for his grandfather. He couldn't help it, hehehe, his grandfather was chatting with someone over that big pot. He figured he'd be able to have a bite of this spicy, stimulating, fresh treat soon. Hehehehe.

Over there, Old Man Zhang had already spotted his grandson driving up. What could he do? He didn't want to bother. "Miss Ling, what on earth is this food called hot pot? How can the mere smell of it be so spicy and overpowering, so addictive?" He quickly wiped his saliva with his sleeve, pretending to stroke his beard. It couldn't be helped. His ancestors were from Shu, and he loved this food. Thinking of his fellow foodies, he calmed himself. He had to calm down, establish a good relationship, and trade for some food. He wondered if they would sell this hot pot base.

Zhang Erquan was standing quietly and obediently behind his grandfather, as docile as a little lamb. He came over and saw his grandfather's movements and gestures, and instantly understood what he was going to do. So he stood aside and acted like a good grandson. Good children will be rewarded.

Old Man Zhang was about to ask Ling Xiaoyue if he could exchange or sell the hot pot base when Cheng Jia leisurely walked out. He pulled out a hammer from somewhere and hammered a black wooden board onto the stone door. On it was written in lime: "Wanjie Shop".

For some reason, Old Man Zhang felt that the hammer was not hitting a nail, but his own head.

Chen Hua followed behind and put up a human-sized inverted V-shaped sign at the door. It had a vertical layout that described the shop.

The Wanjie Shop, after a thousand years, has arrived, inspired by the true dragon's aura. For sale: All the daily necessities you need. Note: High-quality seeds are included, yielding 1,000 kilograms per mu. One kilogram is as follows.

At this time, Chen Xi placed a high stool next to the signboard, and on the stool was a golden scale. On one side was a one-pound weight, and on the other side was a one-pound weight of soil.

Why soil? Because farmers are the only ones who truly care about food production. Farmers are familiar with the land.

Old Man Zhang and Zhang Erquan were stunned. Ling Xiaoyue gave Su Yu a look, and Su Yu understood. He stood up from the stove and walked over.

"Mr. Zhang, the hot pot base I made is already available in the store. The one I made is too spicy and irritating, which is not good for your health. There are some that are slightly less spicy and have other flavors. Why not let this Mr. Su take you in to have a look?" Ling Xiaoyue introduced.

"Miss Ling, please call me Old Man Zhang like that young man does. This is my grandson. Can you take him in for a tour?" Old Man Zhang pulled Zhang Erquan to the front.

"Of course you can. We open the door for business and welcome guests from all directions. There is no reason to turn anyone away." Ling Xiaoyue said with a smile, then took a step forward and whispered to Old Man Zhang, "Old man, I am also from Shu. I was born and raised here." After Ling Xiaoyue finished speaking, she smiled meaningfully at Old Man Zhang.

Old Zhang's hand, stroking his beard, trembled, and his face flushed instantly. It was nothing more than embarrassment, shame, and anger. All he could think about was, "Zhao (three-tone) old," and being heard as old. Oh, my goodness, I can't control my mouth. He couldn't help but want to act like an old man. It was all because he missed his hometown.

He totally denies it and simply likes to be an "old man".

Zhang Erquan, standing nearby, also heard what Ling Xiaoyue said. He lowered his head, his toes nearly tearing through his cloth shoes. It was truly embarrassing! It was all Grandpa's fault for being such an "old man" everywhere. And Master spoiled him, always cleaning up his messes.

After all, old age is a sign of wisdom. After a moment, he continued to stroke his beard without any shame, leading his grandson and Su Yu to chat while walking towards the store.

"Miss Ling, please look after the teahouse for Master." Zhang Erquan took two steps and then remembered something. He turned and bowed to Ling Xiaoyue, showing his sincerity.

Ling Xiaoyue understood what this meant and waved her hand to show that she didn't care. "Don't worry, I'll call you if there are any guests."

Zhang Erquan then stood up and said to Ling Xiaoyue with a pure Sichuan accent, "I want Sister Ling!" Then he turned around and followed her.

Ling Xiaoyue was stunned. This kid really knows how to take advantage of others.

By then, Old Man Zhang had already reached the sign. He knew there was something on it, so he casually glanced at it as he passed by. But that one glance stopped him in his tracks. What? A thousand kilograms per mu? He reread the information, word for word. A thousand years later? Sensing the aura of a true dragon? A thousand kilograms per mu? Everything you could buy was inside? Was that just bragging? But after interacting with them, he realized none of them seemed the type to boast. Instead, they all seemed righteous, their bodies straighter than a door panel.

"Is this 1,000-jin per mu yield really true?!" Old Man Zhang pulled his beard tightly in excitement. His eyes were fixed on Su Yu, like a hawk staring at its prey. Su Yu felt inexplicably nervous. Subconsciously, he blurted out in his local accent, "What's the point of saying it's true? What's so strange about a 1,000-jin per mu yield?"

Old Man Zhang was startled. Seeing that this was also a Sichuanese boy, his expression relaxed, and he became more convinced that these people were not barbarians. As for a thousand years later? No matter where he came from, he said he was here to do business. It was written so clearly. He reached out and patted Su Yu on the shoulder: "Come on, take your grandfather in to see the high-quality seeds that you mentioned that yield a thousand kilograms per mu."

Ling Xiaoyue hadn't expected that even the units of measurement here were the same as in later times. She'd thought she'd just let the system "assimilate" the text, but she hadn't expected it to "assimilate" the numbers, too. So she had Lin Chen bring in the stool and scales.

Over there, the grandfather and grandson entered the shop and were amazed. Here, Ling Xiaoyue picked up the barrel of Erguotou on the ground, walked over to the pot, and poured it all in to enhance the flavor. As he poured, he heard the sound of galloping horses approaching on the official road towards the prefecture.

He stirred the pot a few times with his left hand, intensifying the aroma. A gentle breeze blew, carrying the overbearing aroma of butter and the lingering scent of wine toward the capital. The wind itself had a scent. It blew even more freely.

Ling Xiaoyue counted ten, nine, eight. With her right hand, she pulled out bottles of Lao Baigan. The transparent glass bottles gleamed brightly in the gradually scorching sun.

Six, five, four. His left hand quickly twisted off the bottle cap. With a flick of his right hand, the clear liquor slowly flowed down the bottle's mouth. The aroma drifted in the air, guided by the wind.

Three, two, one. The sound of hooves screeched to a halt at a fork in the road, kicking up a small cloud of dust and fallen leaves. Fortunately, it was still some distance from the pot. Ling Xiaoyue glanced casually, her hand motions unwavering as she continued to pour the baijiu, held at chest height. She smirked, thinking, "Look at me, I'm so pretentious. I'm such a show-off." "You're such a show-off!" "Hmph, I'm going to keep you from getting greedy." "I just don't believe I can't catch a big fish."