"Little brother, listen to me. Actually, the meat today is requested by the higher-ups. If I can't get the meat, this black market might not be able to continue.
This wild boar of yours really solved my urgent problem. It's just over thirty dollars, so I'll take it as a token of my gratitude.
If you think highly of me, don't refuse. If you don't plan to deal with me anymore, I'll take the thirty-two dollars and we'll be even."
Boss Liao spoke with great sincerity, as if giving him the thirty-two yuan meant he looked down on him.
Boss Liao's parents died in the war. He struggled in troubled times since he was young and naturally developed the ability to deal with people. He knew very well that sincerity was the killer skill.
"Okay, since we all pee standing up, I won't be polite anymore. When I kill a wild boar again, I'll come back to trade old things with you.
My family is still waiting for me at home, so I won’t bother them any more.
Boss Liao, the mountains remain green and the waters flow forever. We will meet again in the future."
Zhang Shuguang looked at the wandering people in the movies of his previous life and offered his help.
"Okay, I'll take you out."
Liao Liancheng sent Zhang Shuguang to the door, but Zhang Shuguang refused to let him go any further. After they said goodbye, Zhang Shuguang followed the same path they came from and walked into the black market.
When he came over, he had already spotted a stall selling ready-made cloth shoes.
“How much are the cloth shoes?”
Zhang Shuguang squatted down in front of the shoe stall.
"Five kilograms of coarse grains for adults and three kilograms of coarse grains for children. I only want the food, not the money."
The stall owner is an old man in his fifties or sixties.
"Comrade, these shoes were made overnight by my wife and my daughter-in-law. They are sturdy and durable, and are made of good materials."
Finally someone came to his stall, and the old man introduced it enthusiastically.
"Bring me four pairs for adults and four pairs for children."
Zhang Shuguang thought about it and decided to buy a pair of cloth shoes for each family member, and two pairs for his sister and brother.
"Well, comrade, you can choose."
The old vendor took out the bag he was sitting on and dumped it all on the rag on the ground.
It was easy to choose shoes for his younger brother and sister. He had measured them at home before they came. He could try his own shoes on the spot, but he could only buy shoes for his grandparents and mother based on his impression.
"Old comrade, I want these eight pairs of shoes. I have some fine grains here, can I?"
Zhang Shuguang took a look at the system and found that it was not yet past twelve o'clock. He wanted to wait until after twelve o'clock to see if the cornmeal he had specially saved was still there.
"Comrade, I know that fine grains are delicious and smooth, but they are also expensive!
My two grandsons have grown up and are eating more every day. Plus, the wages of my son and daughter-in-law alone are not enough for the two of us to eat. Otherwise, I wouldn't have to take the risk of running here in the middle of the night.
If you have any coarse grains, please give them to me as much as possible, so that my family can survive for a few more days."
The old stall owner was also a talkative person. The old man and the young boy started chatting as if no one was around, attracting the attention of many people around them.
It’s not that the content of their conversation is so attractive, but there are really not many people chatting like this in the black market.
The black market, as the name suggests, is an underground market that is not visible to the public. Whether buying or selling things, people usually wrap themselves tightly for fear of being recognized by acquaintances.
In the process of buying and selling, if you can avoid talking, do so. If you like something, buy it. If you don't accept it, leave. Who would be like this father and son, chatting as if no one was around?
An old hand who often goes to the black market could tell at a glance that neither of them came here often.
"Old comrade, I really don't have any coarse grains. How about this? I'll give you fine grains, just like coarse grains.
Four pairs of adult cloth shoes equal twenty kilograms of grain, and four pairs of children's cloth shoes equal twelve kilograms of grain. Did you bring scales?"
Using the backpack as cover, Zhang Shuguang took out 32 kilograms of flour from the system space.
Zhang Shuguang was reluctant to trade his Wuchang rice for shoes. Even he had never tasted the authentic Wuchang rice.
Don’t ask why it is so accurate, because there are still 68 kilograms of flour left in the space.
"Comrade, you can't do that! I asked the price on the black market. One pound of fine grain can be exchanged for two pounds of coarse grain. You're really at a disadvantage."
The old stall owner is also a down-to-earth person and can't bear to let his first customer suffer any loss.
"Alright, we get along pretty well, and I don't need this little bit of food. Hurry up and weigh it. I'm in a hurry to get home and sleep!"
There was also a Yuan Dynasty golden scimitar worth 800,000 gold coins lying in the space. It was a time when he was full of ambition and wealth.
The old stall owner opened the flour bag, revealing the white flour inside. Even though it was night, the snow-white color of the flour could be seen in the dim moonlight.
"It's top-quality flour." The old stall owner dipped his index finger in a little flour and put it in his mouth to taste it.
At night, during the black market transactions, coupled with the old man's actions of inspecting the flour, Zhang Shuguang almost shouted out "There is a traitor, stop the transaction."
"Thank you, young comrade. My family is really short of food, so I can't speak so firmly.
I saw him take several pairs of shoes for children. Do you have younger brothers and sisters at home? I'll give you two more pairs. Don't refuse. I'm taking advantage of you today."
The old stall owner took out two pairs of shoes for children and stuffed them into Zhang Shuguang's backpack.
I weighed the bag of noodles and felt that the weight was about right, about 30 pounds.
The old stall owner got the food and didn't even bother to weigh it. He packed up the few remaining pairs of cloth shoes on the stall, picked up the flour bag and left.
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