Fan Dazhi turned his face away and stepped to the roadside.
Two Western Liang soldiers walked past him, their battle boots clacking.
Once the soldiers were far away, the stone weighing on Fan Dazhi's heart quietly settled.
Across the street was a stall selling sesame flatbreads. Their rich aroma drifted over on the breeze, and he walked calmly up to the stall.
"Delicious flatbreads! How many would you like, sir?"
The stallholder was a tall, thin man in his forties. Seeing a customer approach, he greeted him while deftly kneading the dough.
In a steamer tray beside the kneading board lay a stack of freshly cooked flatbreads. Their plump, golden surfaces were covered in sesame seeds, and pretty slashes decorated their edges. The sight made Fan Dazhi's mouth water.
Fan Dazhi sucked his index finger, swallowed, and asked the price.
While the stallholder was distracted, he swiftly slipped his index finger into the tray. His saliva-coated finger picked up a layer of sesame seeds, and he eagerly thrust it into his mouth.
Delicious.
One copper coin apiece. A fair price, too.
Fan Dazhi searched all over himself but could not find a single copper coin.
Oh no!
He suddenly remembered that he had squandered his meager military pay long ago.
Even the silver his father had given him had long since been spent. He had been relying on He An for his daily expenses.
Noticing that Fan Dazhi seemed to have no money, the stallholder looked displeased. He picked up his tongs, added some charcoal to the stove, and stopped paying him any attention.
Fan Dazhi slapped his forehead, bent down, and took off a shoe. Pulling out the thick insole, he rummaged around inside for a while before prying out a little golden nugget.
This was the very last