The Anbei Four Garrisons.
Li Ping'an walked along the solid bluestone-paved road. Looking out, he could scarcely see yellow sand covering the ground anymore.
A small slab of bluestone symbolized the changing times.
There was a stall selling Bo Tuo by the street.
However the times changed, the wind north of the frontier was still somewhat biting.
The Bo Tuo still tasted just as delicious.
He sat down by the roadside, ready to enjoy a piping-hot meal.
Bo Tuo was also known as Water-Leading Cake.
As the saying went, knead it to about the thickness of a thumb, cut it every two inches, and soak it in a basin of water.
Then, beside the basin, knead it by hand until extremely thin, and cook it all over a fierce flame in boiling water.
Not only was it pleasingly glossy and white, but it was also exceptionally smooth and delicious.
Unlike hand-rolled noodles, these noodles were kneaded by hand to the width of a chopstick.
Each strand was a foot long and as thin as a chive leaf.
Sitting by the roadside, one could hear about affairs of state.
The Anbei Four Garrisons had always been a crossroads for travelers from north and south.
People here knew a great deal, and in the past, they had been far removed from the Central Plains.
They dared to say even the most irreverent things.
Halfway through his noodles, he saw four or five young men calling to their friends as they approached the noodle stall.
One of them was Zhang Er, who had visited his home not long ago.
A casual laborer at the Prince's Mansion.
Zhang Er noticed Li Ping'an too and cast him a somewhat resentful glance.
Now that the owner of the house had returned, he naturally no longer needed