Lan Ke Qi Yuan - Edited MTL

Chapter 4: Don't Tell Me I Have Transmigrated?

Hey, I'm still alive!

Even if you see a dead body, shouldn't you call the police?

Ji Yuan could not understand what was going on in the brains of these people. What they did was tantamount to murder!

Some of the conversations just now are also strange, could it be that these people really have some brain problems?

Ji Yuan could sense that this group of people was not joking. They really ignored him. After one of them covered himself with a little cloth and put a wet cloth on his forehead, everyone went about their business.

Zhang Shilin told everyone to put the fire closer to the statue of the mountain god, so that the dying beggar wouldn't freeze to death.

       "Boom, boom, boom......"

Sparks flew from the beating of the flints, and after a few strokes a small piece of tinder was set on fire.

　　"There we go, add firewood!"

　　"Coming, coming."

　　"Don't overdo it! !"

They put in the small branches and carefully guarded the flames, which soon set ablazed.

The merchants then set up their earthen stoves and put their iron pots on them. Some also took bamboo tubes from the temple entrance to fill it with rainwater and poured the water into the pots to boil. Everything was done in an orderly way.

When the work was done, the merchants relaxed temporarily and sat down on the ground to rest.

　　"Boom......"

The sky was full of rolling thunder and the rain showed signs of strengthening.

The merchants who waited for the water to boil looked at the rain outside the temple in bewilderment.

　　"Will the rain be over before night falls?"

　　Someone sighs worriedly.

　　"Look at the state it's pouring. It won't stop for a while!"

　　Another casually answered while tightening his clothes.

　　"What a cold spring rain!"

　　"It seems that the thin cows and horses will have difficulty surviving until February 8th ah!"

A crowd huddled around a small fire, with the damp clothes were hung on one side by a thin temple pole.

The lid of the iron pot became restless as the temperature of the water rose, and soon afterward, "ping-pong" began to shake up.

　　"The water is boiling!"

Liu Quan said with a smile, and pulled a wooden ladle from the basket, while other merchants took out their wooden bowls or bamboo tubes.

One by one, Liu Quan took wooden bowls and bamboo tubes, filled them with boiled water, and handed them back.

A young man opened a basket and took out a cloth bag. The bag was filled with varicolored millet cakes and other rations. He held the bag and shared it with others one by one.

　　"Here.""Take it!"

　　"Brother Zhao, your favorite steamed buns!"

　　"Thanks!"

Every time the young man distributed the food to someone, some patted him on the arm and some thanked him, he quickly reached Zhang.

　　"Brother Shilin! Steamed buns and millet cakes. What do you want?"