"Hey, hey, who are you? How could you sit down and start eating? Those noodles aren't yours."
Sun Yiqiu came to his senses and could not help rebuking him.
The newcomer chewed the noodles in his mouth and slightly raised his left hand, signaling Sun Yiqiu not to speak yet. Then he took out eight copper coins from his robes and set them on the table, still savoring the noodles.
Sun Yiqiu scratched his head and swallowed the words that followed. He turned to glance at his father; seeing him nod, Sun Yiqiu took the money and said somewhat awkwardly,
"Please enjoy your meal, sir."
Ji Yuan paid no attention to Sun Yiqiu and simply ate his noodles. Faintly, he heard someone at a nearby table sighing in a low voice.
"If I'd known, I would have bought that young lady's noodles."
"Yeah, we haven't tried them anyway."
Ji Yuan smiled and shook his head. He abruptly heard someone mutter in an exceedingly quiet voice, "Better if you've eaten," nearly making him spray out his noodles. He could not help casting a sidelong glance at the speaker—a slightly dark-skinned Confucian scholar with well-proportioned features.
But at that moment, a gust of yin wind blew through.
Although the scholars here were not especially advanced in the Literary Dao, and none could hear Hu Yun and She Ji's words or sense spiritual currents too keenly, the feeling of ghosts and gods drawing near was still quite obvious.
Some confucian scholars sensed something, while others vaguely saw the traces of Yin Cha. Among them was that somewhat flirtatious confucian scholar, who even warned his companions at the same table.
"Quiet. A roaming god is passing through."
The laughter and conversation at the stall immediately died down considerably. Two Night Patrols arrived beside the