The young master didn't say much and continued to enjoy the bowl of mutton soup.

Old Chen was idle and looked around bored while drinking tea.

This street is remote, so there are not many pedestrians coming and going, and it looks a little deserted in the lights of the first night. Old Chen wanders around and sees a person sitting diagonally in the corner of the wall. Although Old Chen has a little old eyes, he can still vaguely see that it is an old man dressed in a little worn-out clothes, with gray hair casually dispersed. He lowered his eyes and held a huqin in his arms, looking listless.

The old man looked like a wandering artist, but he did not play the violin. The night wind was cold, so he rubbed his hands from time to time. Most of the passers-by thought he was begging for art, but there was no job in front of him, so he felt strange and could not help but look at him a few more. But the old man didn't care, sitting with his hands as if no one was around, no one knew whether he was waiting for someone or what.

Old Chen curled his lips. He didn't care what the old man did. He had seen many strange people and things. Compared with those, the old man holding the piano was nothing particularly strange. His eyes turned to the young man drinking soup and touched about fifty or sixty steps away. It was a restaurant.

The restaurant is called Juxianlou, which is considered a famous restaurant in Donglincheng. Its business is very prosperous on weekdays. Now, when the lights are on the first night, the restaurant with three floors is almost full.

Old Chen had thought to himself more than once: If his business of mutton soup is half as good as Juxianlou, he would probably wake up in his dreams. He had also thought about one day when he went to the restaurant to have a glass of wine. But he just thought about this world, people walked to high places and water flowed to low places, and those who had their pockets were definitely going to big restaurants to eat, drink and have fun. Rich people came to this corner to drink mutton soup, wouldn’t they lose their identity?

Old Chen sighed secretly, his eyes flashed across the top floor of Juxian Tower. He was confused and saw a person drinking alone in the window facing him.

The distance was a bit far away, and the lights were dim, so Old Chen didn't see the man's appearance clearly, but he only saw a black figure. The voices upstairs were ridiculous, and many drinkers walked back and forth on the floor, but the figure was just sitting alone, as if the noise outside had nothing to do with him, and there was a faint sense of loneliness. Old Chen stared at him for a few glances, and felt his eyes sore. He was about to withdraw his eyes, but suddenly he found that the figure had just turned his head and looked down intentionally or unintentionally.

At that moment, Old Chen seemed to see the man's eyes lit up, and the light shot down like two ice arrows.

The two of them were fifty or sixty steps apart, and they looked at each other from such a distance. The eyes of the old leader Chen met the person upstairs, as if they were directly penetrated by the two ice arrows, and suddenly became cold inside. He was stunned for a moment, feeling a little incredible, then shook his head, rubbed his eyes and stopped looking.

At this time, a man carrying a load came from the corner of the street. He wore a straw hat on his head and shouted as he walked: "Bean skin... the scorched and crispy bean skin..." The voice was not loud, and it was hoarse. It turned out that he was a merchant selling bean skin snacks from the street.

The peddler walked slowly and paused when he passed by the mutton soup stall.

The young man who was drinking soup raised his eyes and looked at the peddler and said, "Buy bean skins."
Chapter completed!