Danyang had never smelled such a fishy smell. The moment the canvas on the trolley was lifted, she was almost suffocated.
The feeling of dizziness hasn't passed yet, and my stomach is already churning.
But the moment she bent over to vomit, a small cloth bag with rough stitching was stuffed in front of her mouth and nose.
A fresh and rich aroma of mugwort instantly filled the internal organs and made Danyang come alive again.
When she raised her eyes, she saw Han Qinglan conversing with the man driving the car without looking sideways, without even glancing at her.
"Hahaha, I'm really joking. If I really have such a good deal, how can I not miss you? Let me go and have a look, and I will tell you more about it when I come back."
After saying a few more homely words, the big man said goodbye to Han Qinglan. Before leaving, he did not forget to pat the "bean sprouts" like noodles with his big hand like a cattail leaf fan.
"This is your first time, little brother, to help? Just wait until you get used to the smell. You won't even be able to smell it on yourself in the future, hahaha."
After being unable to tell whether it was an encouragement or a blow, the big man enthusiastically gave Danyang a small piece of shriveled food, turned around and waved away, while urging:
"If the sachet doesn't work, just ask Lao Jiang to smoke it. It will be fine in a while."
Danyang glanced at the looming slap mark on his shoulder, and then at the ginger piece in his hand that was so yellow and white that it seemed to break with just a touch, and he couldn't laugh or cry for a while.
While she was stunned, Han Qinglan had inspected two large wooden barrels of unknown contents and re-covered them. While harnessing the horses to the cart, he turned around and greeted:
"Hey, let's go. Do you want to sit in the front or the back?"
Seeing Danyang staring at her hands in a daze, he tied the last knot, walked to her in two steps, stretched his head and couldn't help but laugh:
"It's no wonder. It's normal for you to eat fine food since you were a child. It's just one of the ingredients in the condiments. Well, or maybe it's the main ingredient in the ginger soup that His Highness drank after catching a cold. Do you think it's more impressive?"
Han Qinglan's teasing ended instantly when Danyang gave him a cold glare. He rolled his eyes and immediately raised his hands in the air to beg for mercy with a smile. He also changed the subject and said:
"Your Excellency, we are here. Can we set off now? I'm afraid we won't be able to make it in time."
Danyang had a lot of questions, but he also knew that now was not the time to ask. At least, wait until the carriage is on its way.
Without saying a word, she stepped forward, lifted her clothes, and sat firmly on the car's shaft.
Looking back at someone who was obviously surprised, she raised her chin and issued an order:
"Let's go. I have never ridden on a trolley, but at least I have eyes."
His heart was agitated, the emphasis in his words, his eyes, and his vivid provocation and unwillingness to admit defeat. Not to mention, it is much more impressive than before when I used gourds and gourds to pretend to be market vendors.
Han Qinglan laughed in her heart, but she also cooperated with the performance.
"Hey, okay, hey, sit tight and we'll walk."
As soon as he turned around, the young man who was still somewhat upright suddenly became an authentic handlebar and broker.
This was the first time Danyang had seen Han Qinglan change his face like this. At this moment, he suddenly understood how he could escape calmly even though he was being chased by the masters around her uncle.
She shook her head and smiled bitterly, but she was really curious in her heart about how a young master who could be considered a son of an aristocratic family ended up like what she saw in front of her. However, apart from personal curiosity, she really had too much to ask and find out.
The wheels rolled four or five miles away in the blink of an eye, leaving behind the lively but dilapidated Dongcheng.
Danyang saw the scenery gradually becoming familiar and knew that he was probably heading to the place where the envoy of the King of Huaiyang was staying.
She made up her mind and had enough time to ask other questions.
"Do you often go, uh, there?"
Although Danyang wanted to ask in detail, he didn't know where to start when he opened his mouth, so he just asked wherever he thought.
However, when I opened my mouth, I realized that even if I wanted to ask, it would be troublesome to even describe it because there was so much I was unfamiliar with.
Han Qinglan skillfully drove the carriage through the slowly crowded streets. When he heard this, he still had the time to glance sideways at the people around him, and then replied with a joking smile:
"You mean Dongjie Temple? Or the place where I just changed clothes?"
When Danyang heard this, he rolled his eyes, pursed his lips, and said slyly:
"Isn't it different?"
Han Qinglan laughed and said slowly:
"It's the same, but it's different. You must have heard of Dongjie Temple, otherwise why would you have jumped there and climbed over the wall in the first place, right?"
After saying that, he glanced at Danyang again, and saw that the other person's expression was the same. He touched his nose boredly and stopped pushing too far. He regained his serious look and said seriously:
"I wonder if you have ever heard of another name for Dongjie Temple, Qigong Temple."
After that, Han Qinglan was very happy and explained it in detail without her asking.
The famous Dongjie Temple in Dongcheng was actually built on the original site of Qigong Temple. The original intention of Jian was to repay a favor.
At the beginning, this was a ruined temple without even a plaque. Only an old scholar named Qi Gong lived here.
Legend has it that he was an unlucky man who failed in exams many times. Since he had no relatives in his hometown, he finally settled in a ruined temple in the capital after he lost interest in taking the exam again and was penniless.
It is no longer known how the old scholar made a living, but many articles have recorded that many poor scholars were helped and rescued in this ruined temple.
Until that one prime minister who became famous in Kyushu returned to the ruined temple. At that time, my benefactor had long since passed away, and only an even more desolate ruined temple remained here.
The prime minister contributed his own efforts and money to renovate the dilapidated temple, and built the Dongjie Temple adjacent to it.
When Danyang heard this, he turned his head slightly and said with emotion:
"This is an official with a good heart and a bad reputation."
Han Qinglan raised her eyebrows, glanced sideways at the people around her, and said with a smile:
"Oh, what do you say? The legendary prime minister now has no idea which dynasty or generation he belonged to, whether he was fat or thin. How can you tell that he has a good heart and doesn't have a good reputation? "
Danyang didn't care about the other party and resumed joking, and it was obvious that he knew what he was asking.
She only sat back more firmly, unfolded the palm of her hand that she had been holding, and focused on the withered, yellow, shriveled old ginger that seemed to be a little softer than the thickness of her little finger, and murmured:
"If you ask for a name, how come no one now remembers who the first builder was? At least he should be mentioned on the merit monument in front of the mountain gate. His good intentions are even more obvious. Destroying the ruined temple is far better than standing next to it. It will be much easier to demolish a residential house and build another one. However, it is the best and most reassuring choice to take the road that is harder than your heart."
In the end, the words no longer seemed to be spoken to the people around him, but more like talking to himself.
I don’t know whether it was because I was sitting on the shaft of the car with the wind blowing in my face, or because I had been sitting in this car for a long enough time. Suddenly, I felt that the fishy smell that made people breathless seemed to be bearable.
But she still lowered her head, sniffed lightly, and suddenly smiled and murmured in a low voice:
"It seems, it is indeed very useful. Maybe..."
"Huh? What did you say?"
Although Han Qinglan was concentrating on driving, she felt that she also spent most of her time on the conversation, especially on the last, meaningful words before smacking. Unexpectedly, there was a whisper after that.
Even though he didn't hear it clearly, he somehow felt that the second half of the sentence he didn't hear clearly was very important.
