"Young lady, are you drying your books?" The man who spoke to me the day before yesterday came again. He was a resident of the same street. His house was at the corner of the street. It was also a commercial and residential complex. He ran a rice shop.
The capital was divided into two markets, East and West, and 120 wards. The market was for commerce, while the wards were for residence. Originally, these divisions were strictly separate and independent. However, in recent years, the influx of foreign envoys, students, and merchants from abroad has led to the two markets becoming overcrowded, and fights over stalls have become frequent. Therefore, the emperor has issued new laws allowing merchants to set up regular shops, inns, restaurants, and other convenient businesses within the wards, which has alleviated the situation. However, the main market is still only held in the East and West markets, and gatherings in the wards and temples are only allowed on festival days.
Xu Jiang smiled at the rice shop owner and said, "Take it out and dry it in the sun while the weather is good. There will be less sunlight after the Double Ninth Festival."
The rice shop owner asked again, "Does this mean we're open now?"
Xu Jiang shook her head, "Tomorrow is the real day."
"It's the Double Ninth Festival, a good day indeed. I would like to take this opportunity to wish the shopkeeper a prosperous opening and a prosperous business."
"Thank you very much."
As the two chatted, others came over to look at the paintings. One of them, a rather elegant middle-aged man, pointed to a painting of withered plum blossoms and asked, "Who painted this? Why is there no signature or seal?"
The painting he was pointing to was not framed, the paper had turned yellow and curled at the edges, and it looked very old. The artist's technique was sophisticated, and with just a few strokes, he had sketched out a vigorous plum tree.
Beneath the plum tree, amidst a jumble of rocks and overgrown weeds, lies a toad, gazing at a falling egret. Its eyes hold a hint of sorrow, its expression quite vivid. This painting, composed with ink lines in black and white, boasts a simple composition yet a profoundly desolate and powerful atmosphere, evoking a sense of transcendence.
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