"Go on!"
Several pieces of curved mirrors piled on the reeds on the crossbar were pulled by the pulley on the top of a wooden frame six feet high, and were dragged by the servants shouting slogans, rising to the top of a dusty brick building.
This brick building is square and square, like an arrow tower on a city wall. It rises from the ground on a hill to the southwest of Liguoyi.
It is only three to four feet square, but may be five feet high. It has no decorations and is dusty. A small pavilion is supported by four pillars on the top platform of the brick building. In the center of the pavilion, there is a metal object, which looks a bit delicate. A craftsman held a blueprint in his hand and was fiddling with it.
Under the brick building under construction, Lu Guofeng, the postmaster of Liguoyi, looked up at the sky and cursed: "Damn it, the Mid-Autumn Festival has passed, and it's still so hot today!"
While he was cursing, he was still sitting on a small stool beside the construction site. The big red-painted gourd in his hand also made some water sounds as he waved his arms, as if to cheer him up.
He cursed twice, and then used his remaining right hand to take a sip of the bland water and wine in the gourd, causing the greedy postmen around him to swallow their saliva.
Lu Guofeng cursed for a while, became more and more anxious, and shouted at the top of his voice: "You bastard, are you done?"
The craftsman above may not have heard, but he still kept his head down and was busy. An apprentice next to him heard it and seemed to say something to him. The craftsman still ignored him and only asked the apprentice to hand him the tools in his hands.
Although Lu Guofeng was troubled, he did not dare to leave the construction site and could only suffer under the sun. When he was depressed, red shadows flashed in the corners of his eyes. He turned his head and saw a fat monk walking at the foot of the mountain.
Lu Guofeng was bored, so he called out: "Come up, monk!" The monk who was walking heard someone calling him "monk" and looked up to see Lu Yichen waving to him.
He immediately bowed his head and came up with his cassock. When he came closer, Lu Yicheng asked: "Aren't you Monk Zhitong from Pingshan Temple? How did you get here?"
With a smile on his face, Monk Zhitong bowed and said to Lu Guofeng: "It turns out that Sir Lu is in front of you. It is a coincidence that the young monk met a noble person today."
Lu Yicheng sneered and said, "You damn noble man. How did you, a drunken monk like you, come so far?"
Zhitong said flatteringly: "If you look up and down in Pengcheng, aren't you the one who can win the knighthood? Or is it Brother Lu who fought his way through mountains of corpses and blood to get this wealth?" Although he said these auspicious words, Zhitong He didn't dare to look at the scars on Lu Guofeng's face, and kept staring at his hairline with a smile.
A smile appeared on Lu Feng's face. Pointing to the ground, he said, "Sit down, monk." Zhitong complained in his heart, but his face didn't show it. He lifted his cassock to his waist, wandered around and found a relatively clean piece of grass and sat on it.
Lu Guofeng asked again: "Where are you from?"
Zhitong had no choice but to return: "It's Wang Ju who mourns me. Monk, I went over to do rituals for a few days and then I came over."
After Lu Guofeng heard this, a Mona Lisa-like smile appeared on his face. The remaining eyebrow on his left side was raised, and the scars on his face did not block his vulgar expression. He chuckled and asked, "Then can you see the little widow?"
Sweat dripped down Zhitong's face. He thought to himself that you are a cripple who has only moved here less than a year ago, but you are very clear about the affairs of these ten miles and eight towns. He came to Wang Ju's house for a banquet, and he didn't want to talk about other people's privacy, but when he saw Lu Yicheng's desire for knowledge deep in his soul, he nodded eccentrically.
Lu Yicheng laughed again, handed the gourd to the postman beside him, and with a gesture from top to bottom with his right hand, he actually drew an indescribable curve, and Zhitong actually understood it. I heard Lu Yicheng ask: "But this?"
Zhitong nodded again strangely. Lu Yicheng laughed loudly and hit the monk on the shoulder so hard that he almost lost his breath. Lu Yicheng smiled lewdly and said: "That old bastard from the Wang family, damn, he is an old man, and he still wants to marry a wife. Haha! I heard that he still had a pout when he died - is it true?"
Zhitong was already tired from walking, but now he was entangled with Lu Yicheng again, and he felt very miserable. Seeing that this naughty thing was not over, he was heart-broken and leaned in Sir Lu's ear and said: "Brother, you don't know, Monk, I heard that Wang Juren said that he wanted the little widow to remarry! Tsk, tsk, tsk, I don't know how to take advantage of this Pengcheng city What kind of good stuff is there?"
Lu Yicheng's eyes almost popped out of his sockets after hearing this. He took a deep breath and said, "Really? Is that what the little widow is willing to do? If Wang Ju, a man with a wealth of wealth and wealth, remarries this Hua Chai, what will happen?" Gone."
Zhitong curled his lips and said: "Wang Juren is forty this year, and his damn father left him with a mother as big as a flower bone! Isn't this nonsense? If I were Wang Juren, I would have to send her away! Besides, what kind of custom is there in this world now? How many young people are guarding it?"
After hearing this, Lu Yicheng blinked a pair of mung bean eyes on his face, put his head on Zhitong's bald head, and asked in a low voice: "When I came to Pengcheng last year, I saw the little widow once on the road, and then I remembered it. The hangings are all hard. Monk, tell me, I want to marry that little widow, is it possible?"
Zhitong, the fair-weather monk, usually does some work as a matchmaker to earn some pocket money. He had this in mind when he told about the young widow's remarriage.
Although Lu Yicheng was disabled, the widow was no longer a young lady. What's more, Lu Yicheng was only allocated a thousand acres of good land in Pengcheng, and he was considered a rare landowner.
Although he is not a scholar, he is at the top of the civil nobility. Apart from the clan, this gentleman has the highest status in Pengcheng. Even when the magistrate saw this Yi Cheng, he didn't dare to accept his courtesy and had to bend down to him.
What's more important is that Lu Yicheng is young, less than thirty years old. Although he is a bit uglier and is missing one hand, he won't need to do any work after he becomes an official. He only needs one hand to sign. If the widow had a son and a half daughter with him, wouldn't she lie in a honeypot for the rest of her life?
Zhitong wanted to curry favor with him, so he told Lu Yicheng: "It's not impossible, but the monk must be honest. Those girls all like to be handsome. Although Mr. Lu has a handsome appearance, his scars are a bit scary, and he is missing one." Hands. I’m afraid it’s difficult.”
After Lu Guofeng heard this, he took a sip into the ground. Touching his broken arm, his face seemed a little sentimental.
Seeing how sad he was, the monk hurriedly added: "I heard that in order to keep his promise, Wang Juren wanted to give his little girl a heavy dowry. If this was the case, the widow would have to find a young man if she had the money. Only handsome young people can get married. For Mr. Lu to succeed, you have to let the governor pull out all the money to make it happen."
After hearing this, Lu Guofeng smiled bitterly and said: "I am a martial artist, why do you give me face when you are a judge?"
The monk folded his hands and said: "Amitabha! You don't know. Even if you go to get a post from the prefect, you can just reach out and get it. How can Wang Juren have such dignity? I heard from people in the government office that you always come into this house. The Yamen Council is a sure thing! Can Wang Juren enter? As a future political master, if you let a small Juren give you face, isn't that because his ancestors burned high incense?" After saying that, he laughed.
After Lu Guofeng heard this, his eyes shone with hope. He patted the monk on the shoulder and said, "Go find me tomorrow. I'll kill a dog and stew it, and we'll put it together." Monk Zhitong swallowed his saliva and said, "Definitely, definitely!"
Then he pointed to the craftsman who was busy in the pavilion and said: "The monks have also traveled all over the country. This is the first time I have seen this tower. It is said in the countryside that this is the dragon vein that the emperor wants to suppress the world - I wonder what it does?"
Speaking of work, Lu Yichen became serious. He pointed to the top of the tower and said, "Did you see the thing they are installing? That thing can see fifty miles away. Have you seen the semicircular mirror? That thing can reflect a hundred miles away at night." You can see it. There are fifty-six stations from Nanjing to Beijing. The imperial court wants to use this thing to convey news. Urgent memorials can be transmitted to the capital in one night - I heard that the emperor named it 'Guang Bao' '."
After hearing this, the monk said with dull eyes: "Master Lu, can you use it?"
Lu Yicheng said: "We have a meeting of more than ten people in Liguoyi. It's very simple. Just count the number of times the light was turned on by the person standing in front of us. We remember that it's also a number. After confirming it, we turn around and go again. Fore hair.”
After Zhitong understood it, he seemed to find this "light reward" incredible, but also very ingenious. He asked again: "It's a bad day. What should I do if I can't see it in fog or snow?"
Lu Yicheng said: "Why is it set up in a post office? If Tian'er is not good, he should ride horses and sail boats, just like before. But what was delivered before was a sealed memorial, and now we don't know what it means. number."
