With Pan Long's help, reconstruction of Dingfeng Town's North City Gate sped up enormously.
They worked straight through from morning until noon. By the time the women brought over great buckets of hot rice, dishes, soup, and Wine, the walls on either side had been mostly repaired, and the gate itself was nearly finished.
Naturally, everyone praised Pan Long's abilities. They heaped a basketful of compliments on him, as though there were no one like him under heaven or on earth.
He had done the work of twenty or thirty people single-handedly, so he deserved the praise.
That was, of course, if you excluded the "praise" from certain idiots who had dog brains stuffed into their heads and human mouths that couldn't speak human words.
And there turned out to be quite a few such idiots.
Perhaps Northerners were so accustomed to building as much muscle as possible that some had grown muscle inside their skulls. Han Feng's praise of Pan Long as the King of Brick-Carrying actually won plenty of agreement.
If Pan Long hadn't objected so firmly, by the time the New Year was over, his name throughout the Northlands might really have become that damned "King of Brick-Carrying."
After lunch, Pan Long wanted to keep working, but the others wouldn't let him.
"You've done more than enough. Go stroll around town and have some fun. Leave the rest to us!"
With everyone saying the same thing, Pan Long could hardly refuse their kindness. He put on his clothes and headed for the busiest street in town.
The street held a dozen or so shops selling all manner of food and amusements. It was, you could say, Dingfeng Town's center.
In the middle of the street stood a three-story building with a sign over its door reading "North