One day.
Zhang Ling suddenly had a feeling and calculated with his fingers that there was a place called "Qingyun Town" at the easternmost end of Jieyang Mountain.
The secrets of this place are obscure, and hidden causes and effects are difficult to detect.
I have never paid attention to the mortals in the mountains in previous years. This time, it seems that a fairy friend deliberately passed on a clue, but the smell is a bit disgusting, like some kind of rotten odor.
He frowned slightly, pondered for a moment, and then transformed into a graceful gentleman, holding a folding fan in his hand, and walked towards the east side of the foot of the mountain.
——
"Selling buns! Top-quality meat buns!"
“Selling candied haws skewers, cheap and affordable!”
"Shaobing, shaobing, big shaobing!"
"Sir, are you eating big pancakes?"
"Thanks, I'm not (eating)"
…
As soon as Zhang Ling entered Qingyun Town, he saw that the market was extremely bustling.
There was an endless stream of vendors, children, women and children, and their shouts and hawking could be heard everywhere.
He walked into a bun shop on the street and saw an old man busy lifting the steamer and changing the layers. Large clouds of white smoke rose up and then spread away with a gust of wind, filling the air with the aroma of meat.
Zhang Ling sat on a long bench, his folding fan resting lightly on the square wooden table, and slowly asked, "Old man, give me twenty meat buns!" As he spoke, he looked into the distance, his gaze moving through the bustling crowd, as if looking for something.
"Twenty?" The old man walked to the table, looked up and down at the young man with extraordinary appearance and noble temperament, and asked, "Can you eat so many by yourself?"
Zhang Ling withdrew his gaze, turned to look at the old man, smiled and said, "Of course I'm not alone, there will be other companions soon."
"Oh oh..." The old man suddenly realized, and soon brought four large plates. Each plate contained five large meat buns with thin skin and thick meat. They were steaming and looked very appetizing.
Zhang Ling sat quietly at the table, waiting. Before long, he heard several sharp insults: "Get out of here, you idiot! Who told you to block my business?"
"Oh, this idiot touched the corner of my clothes, it's so dirty!"
"Damn it! This idiot will tear off the roof if he's not punished for one day." After the voice fell, one could vaguely hear someone screaming in pain.
"Beat him to death! Beat him to death!" Many people were cheering, clapping and cheering, and bursting into applause from time to time like watching a show.
Zhang Ling's eyes were as sharp as torches as he saw a beggar with disheveled hair, unshaven beard and a black face being beaten by a group of people. He was wearing a tattered robe, which had been torn into long pieces by the crowd and scattered on the ground. One of his feet was half-tied in a torn cotton shoe with holes that exposed his five toes, while the other foot was bare. His toenails were old and hard, in the shape of hooks, and filled with black dirt.
The old man selling buns witnessed the whole thing, shook his head, and said with a look of pity: "What a sin, what a sin."
Zhang Ling feigned confusion and asked, "Old man, do you recognize that beggar?"
"You look unfamiliar, I'm afraid you're not from Qingyun!"
Zhang Ling nodded when he heard this and said, "I came from Xingfu Town and came to Jieyang Mountain to stay with my relatives."
Seeing that there were no passersby buying buns, the old man simply sat down on a stool and chatted: "Have you heard of the great name of Qingyun Town?"
Zhang Ling shook his head: "I've never heard of it."
The other party coughed lightly and continued, "You may not know this, but this Qingyun Town was once chosen by the late emperor as a place of outstanding talent and talent. Every three to five years, this place will produce several successful candidates in the imperial examinations. As for scholars, the number is even greater, countless."
So magical?
Zhang Ling nodded unconsciously. He knew how difficult it was to pass the imperial examination in the Dali Dynasty. It was even more difficult than getting into a top 985 university in his previous life.
In the small town of Qingyun, a juren appears every three to five years. If you round it off, doesn't that mean there is an average of one juren every year?
Zhang Ling pondered this while chatting with the old man at the opposite table. He poured himself a bowl of white soy milk, took a sip, and cleared his throat, saying, "But since a certain day thirty years ago, Qingyun Town has been like a cursed place, and no more scholars or juren have been born. Even more bizarrely, all babies born in this town are as dumb as wooden donkeys, with slow brains, and are born a little dumber than ordinary people."
Zhang Ling seemed lost in thought, gently waving his folding fan. "Could it be that some demon is causing trouble?"
When the old man heard the word "monster", he immediately shrank his neck, moved closer and hissed, "Don't dare to say anything nonsense, sir! Be careful, there is a god above your head!"
The old man looked around and saw no one was eavesdropping, so he whispered, "This secret is an eternal pain in the hearts of the people in this town... Two hundred years ago, a giant turtle suddenly emerged from the river in this town. It often surfaced during the day, exposing most of its shell to bask in the sun. Everyone believed this was a good omen and called it a fairy turtle. They brought incense and food to offer to the turtle. Over time, everyone seemed to notice that anyone who drank from this river water became strong and healthy, and lived longer, especially..."
Before the old man could finish his words, a homeless man with a bruised face and bleeding mouth rushed into the bun shop. This man was the beggar who had been called a "fool" by passers-by and beaten half to death.
The beggar lay on the ground holding his stomach, then his whole body arched like a shrimp, his face twisted, beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, the veins on his neck protruded, and he looked extremely painful.
A dozen passers-by who had been chasing him gathered around with murderous eyes, as if they wanted to continue beating him.
“What a sin!”
Seeing that this group of people wanted to cause trouble in the bun shop, the old man immediately stretched out his withered palm to appease the beggar, "Stop it, or someone will die!"
The old man protected the poor and helpless man on the ground and tried to persuade him with earnest words.
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