Instead of going into the shed, he squatted in the shade by the roadside, sipping the cloudy, slightly sour wine in small sips.

I was just taking a break when business came knocking.

A middle-aged man with a kind face, dressed in a worn-out coarse cloth robe, walked over and pointed to the maltose candies in the carrying pole, asking:

How much is this?

"Two coins per piece."

"Two pieces, please."

The man paid, took the candy hastily wrapped in oil paper, and hurriedly left.

He was the manager of the nearby Beitian Temple. When he returned to the slightly dilapidated but clean courtyard, a group of children of all ages immediately surrounded him, staring at him expectantly.

"Don't rush, don't rush," the man said with a gentle smile, squatting down to open the oil paper package, revealing the amber-colored maltose candy inside.

"One small piece per person, line up, everyone gets one."

He carefully broke the candy apart, and the children cheered, cautiously licking the hard-won sweetness.

The chatter immediately subsided, and the man patted one of the boys on the head.

“Zhu Zi, Granny Wang at the end of the alley has difficulty walking, so she asked me to bring her a bag of coarse salt.”

"Could you please make a trip and deliver this to Grandma?"

"Alright!" The boy named Zhuzi took the small bag of salt and ran out in a flash.

Zhu Zi, familiar with the place, arrived at the front of Granny Wang's low house, handed in the salt, and received a few words of praise from Granny Wang.

On the way back, I kicked a particularly smooth little pebble in the corner of the wall. I thought it was fun, so I picked it up.

He casually used a pebble to draw two horizontal lines of different lengths on the mottled wall.