Rebirth in 1958: Getting rich starts from Nanluoguxiang

Dabao looked back and saw that it was a pony that had bitten his sleeve. The pony must have been born not long ago. It had red hair all over its body and its hooves were white. However, its body was covered with scabs and a large group of flies were circling around it, making it look very dirty.

Dabao turned around and saw that the little red horse's two big eyes were full of tears. It was holding Dabao's clothes in its mouth, with its two front legs bent down, as if begging for something.

Dabao bent down and touched the horse's head: "What's wrong with you?"

Xiao Ma straightened his legs, grabbed Dabao's sleeve and pulled it aside.

At this time, a horse dealer came over with a cigarette in his mouth. From a distance, a strong smell of rancid meat came over.

He raised the whip in his hand and hit the pony, cursing at the same time, but Dabao didn't understand.

The pony shuddered at the sound of the whip, but the whip did not fall on him.

The horse dealer saw the whip in Dabao's hand and pulled it hard, but it didn't move at all.

He pouted and said in Chinese: "Baron, what do you want to do? Do you want to cause trouble?"

Dabao looked at him with contempt, and as he let go, the horse dealer, who was pulling the whip hard, threw him to the ground.

As soon as there was a commotion here, people gathered around.

The people of Xijiang were tough and fierce. They all glared at Dabao fiercely, as if they wanted to eat him raw without even dipping him in soy sauce.

Dabao didn't take it seriously and reached out to touch Xiao Ma's head. Xiao Ma snorted in comfort.

The people from Xijiang were arguing with each other, and Dabao couldn't understand what they were saying. He looked up and asked the horse dealer,

"What's wrong with this horse?"

The horse dealer held the knife at his waist, stared at Dabao, and said a lot of gibberish.

Dabao bent down and whispered in Little Red Horse's ear: "I don't understand what he said. You should tell me."

The little red horse went to pick up Dabao's clothes again. Dabao stretched out his hand to let it take them and walked out.

The horse dealer was furious and turned to ask his fellow tribesman: "What do you mean he doesn't understand what I said? Is he scolding me?" Of course, he was speaking Xinjiang dialect, which most people here can understand but not speak.

"Hey, hey you..." The horse dealer reached out to grab Dabao. Even though he was holding a knife, he didn't dare to stab him.

Dabao grabbed his wrist and pinched it, and half of the horse dealer's body immediately felt numb. He was a very smart man. In this era, livestock dealers were very smart. He knew that he had met a tough guy. He cried out "ouch, ouch", but still did not dare to draw his sword.

The rest of the people looked at each other, and then someone said something, and then everyone followed suit. These people from Xinjiang are very xenophobic, but they are very united when they meet outsiders.

After walking a few steps, I came to a stable. There were more than a dozen horses tied in the stable. They were all very docile and eating hay in a wooden trough. Outside the stable, a red horse was lying, its body covered with scabs. It had to lie down because there was a half-foot long wound on its right abdomen. The wound was so deep that the bone was visible. It was already rotten and maggots were infested. As I approached, I could smell a foul odor.

The little red horse let go of Dabao, walked over unsteadily, and stretched out its tongue to lick the red horse's ears. The tears it had been holding back finally rolled down, and the hot tears fell into the red horse's mane.

The red horse raised its head and snorted, as if to comfort its child.

This scene made everyone present bow their heads, and Dabao's heart was also tightened. He let go of the horse dealer,

Others rushed to ask the horse dealer: "Tarim, what's going on?"

The horse dealer said dejectedly, "Don't mention it. A few days ago, I was driving the horses back and encountered a pack of wolves. This little red horse was dragged away by the wolves. Its mother rushed to save it, but she was also bitten several times by the wolves. I can't treat this injury. I can only wait for it to die and bury it."

Several people came forward to look at the injuries of the red horse and shook their heads. No one could help with such injuries. He was doomed.

Dabao squatted down and touched the red horse's head. The red horse looked at him, barked a few times, and turned its head to push the little red horse over.

Two huge tears rolled down its big eyes, and it stared at Dabao with pleading eyes.

Dabao wiped away its tears and whispered, "Raise your own children. Don't expect me to help you raise them."

Dabao stood up, put his hands behind his back and said to the horse dealer: "How much are these two horses? I'll buy them."

"What? Did you buy it?" the horse dealer squeezed out a few stiff Chinese words.

"Yes, I bought it. How much is it?"

The horse dealer lowered his head and considered it. His Chinese was limited. He turned around, grabbed a bearded man, and said a few words in a gibberish voice.

The bearded man placed his right hand on his chest and saluted Dabao. When Dabao saw this, he quickly imitated him and returned the salute.

"Barangzi, Tarim said this horse won't survive tonight, so he told you not to buy it. But if you want to buy this pony, he can sell it to you."

Dabao shook his head and said, "Uncle, I'll buy both horses. I'll find a veterinarian to treat their injuries."

The bearded man was stunned for a moment, then looked at the horse dealer. The horse dealer said a few words, and he nodded.

"Barangzi, we people from Western Xinjiang will not do anything without conscience. You can take this red horse, the foal. Tarim said, give me thirty yuan."

This time it was Dabao's turn to be stunned. He had been very nervous about going to Western Xinjiang. In his previous life, he had heard many legends about people selling cakes at sky-high prices and instigating children to steal wallets. He was wary of people from Western Xinjiang and was prepared to be ripped off.

But now he understood that no matter where you are, there are always more kind people, and those who have a bad reputation are just a few scum.

Dabao took out a wad of money from his bag, counted it, and said sincerely: "Uncle, it's not easy for you to sell horses. You all have capital. I can't take it for free. Here is fifty yuan. No matter how much it is, I will buy these two horses..."

The horse dealer and the bearded man were stunned, as were the onlookers. They had never seen such a person in their lives. Usually, when selling livestock, everyone bargained fiercely, so why was he giving more money?

For a time, everyone had a good impression of Dabao, knowing that he was a good boy who would not take advantage of others.

Dabao stuffed the money into the horse dealer's pocket and said, "I also want to buy a camel. Do you have any?"

The horse dealer's eyes lit up, and he pointed at the bearded man and said, "Brother Eniwal sells camels."

Finally, Dabao spent two hundred yuan to buy a Bactrian camel, and also bought a map and a saddle. The bearded man also gave him an extra set of camel saddles made of thick felt and embroidered with patterns. Dabao then led the camels and two red horses out. However, the big red horse was limping and could only barely keep up.

Not long after leaving the market, Dabao felt something was wrong. There were three people following him.

Dabao slowed down his pace and released his consciousness. He found that these were three people from Xijiang. The difference was that they were carrying short knives, but they were carrying machetes.

As soon as he saw Dabao, he understood that he had just exposed himself in the market and attracted thieves, who were trying to rob him.

Dabao sneered and thought to himself, "You are asking for death, so let me clean up these cancers in the market."

It was already late, but in Xinjiang, where the days are long and the nights are short in the summer, it was still as bright as day. It is said that on the day of the summer solstice, Xinjiang had seventeen hours of daylight.

Dabao licked his lips. This place was too dry. His lips were dry.

He didn't know where to go, so he just let his imagination run wild. He didn't plan to stay in the guesthouse. He had his own personal space. How nice would it be to sleep there, hugging the little tiger's chubby body? Wouldn't it be better than sleeping on the hard bed in the guesthouse with the dirt buried in it?

It didn't matter that he was walking around randomly, but he confused the three thieves following behind him.

The three of them looked at each other, wondering where this guy was going. According to experience, Han people should go to the government, so why was he going towards the mosque?

The three of them discussed and decided to act quickly. If they continued to move forward, the gods would see them.

Three people rushed up like the wind. The leader pointed his scimitar at Dabao and laughed loudly: "Baron, you..."

He was about to say that he should hand over the valuables, and the other two laughed in unison. They usually did this, but unfortunately he was ugly and had beautiful thoughts.

Dabao came up and started punching Kuku, beating the three people so hard that they cried for their parents and fell to the ground and never got up again.

After Dabao finished his work, he took away the leader's machete before leaving. The guy cried like a baby. This machete was passed down from his ancestors. It was a pure Gurkha machete with exquisite patterns on it. He had lost a lot of money now...

Dabao was also afraid of trouble, so he quickly went to a deserted place, put the camel and the big and small red horses into the space, took out the jeep, and drove away...