Zhao Youcai inquired all the way, carrying a gun and passing through Beifeng Fort and Beishan Fort on the east side of the fifth ditch.

After walking out of Beishan Fort, Zhao Youcai saw a gathering outside the fort, and he smelled the aroma of big ballast porridge.

Zhao Youcai followed the smell and looked for it. After walking a few steps, he saw a small stall at the north end of the street.

There was a stove made from a tin bucket on the stall, with firewood burning in the stove. There was a large stew pot sitting on the stove, and the stew pot was boiling big ballast porridge.

Zhao Youcai had been walking since about five o'clock in the morning, and he was really hungry. He took a look at the stall and asked, "How do you sell it?"

"Three cents a bowl, five cents two bowls." The old lady looking at the stall quoted a price, and Zhao Youcai said: "I want two bowls."

After saying that, Zhao Youcai took out a five-cent coin from his pocket and handed it to the old lady.

At this time, someone happened to return the bowl. The old lady poked the big toothy bowl into the basin of snow next to it, took it out, shook it, and wiped it with a yellowed drawer cloth.

There is no way, how many bowls can a normal family have these days? For weddings, weddings, weddings, etc., neighbors borrow plates, bowls, tables, chairs, and benches.

It's winter again now, and I can't fetch water to wash the dishes outside. The old lady is very particular about being so tidy.

Zhao Youcai is not picky, and few mountain runners are particular about it.

I saw the old lady pick up a pair of chopsticks from the small helmet next to her, put a piece of mustard pickles on the end of the chopstick and put it at the bottom of the bowl.

Then, the old lady opened the lid of the stew pot, scooped out a large spoonful of porridge and poured it into the bowl.

Zhao Youcai took the porridge bowl and took the chopsticks cut from ash willow branches from the table nearby.

This stall has no tables, only two long benches. There are five people crowded on the two long benches, but only one is drinking porridge, and the other four are resting.

Seeing Zhao Youcai coming over with a bowl, a pockmarked old man knocked the pipe in his hand, stood up and greeted Zhao Youcai: "Come, sit here with me."

This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! "Ah, okay." Zhao Youcai was not polite, and sat beside him on the bench, slipping away and scooping the big chunks of porridge into his mouth.

When cold teeth meet hot porridge, Zhao Youcai felt that his teeth were uncomfortable when he first ate it. But hasn’t Zhao Boss been struggling to find something to eat this year?

While Zhao Youcai was slurping his porridge, the pockmarked old man stared at the semi-automatic rifle behind him.

Guns are not allowed these days, but someone who can carry a semi-automatic around on his back is definitely not an ordinary person.

Zhao Youcai quickly finished two large bowls of porridge, took out a Shilin cigarette from his pocket and stuffed it in his mouth.

At this time, Zhao Youcai found that the pockmarked old man was looking at him.

"Man, can I give you one?" Zhao Youcai was not stingy without asking him to spend money.

"No." The pockmarked old man shook his head, raised the pipe and pot in his hand, and said, "I smoke this, this is strong."

Zhao Youcai smiled when he heard this and nodded slightly to express his agreement with the old man's words.

"Uncle." Zhao Youcai put out a cigarette with one hand and pointed to the south with the other, asking the pockmarked old man: "Can we reach Hansong Fort by walking along this road?"

The pock-marked old man was startled and asked instead, "What are you doing in Hansongbaozi?"

"They asked me to come here to hunt tigers." Hearing Zhao Youcai's answer, the pockmarked old man's eyes lit up and he hurriedly asked: "From your accent, you seem to be from Lingxi. What's your surname?"

"My surname is Zhao..." After Zhao Youcai said his surname, he was about to sign up, but he heard the pockmarked old man say: "General Fuhu?"

"Huh?" Zhao Youcai frowned and thought, does that little guy in my family have such a famous name? Do all the old men in Lingnan know about him?
Chapter completed!