Qiao San didn't say anything, just sat cross-legged, "You need to give me the items I want first."
Lu Jiang glanced at his wife, who took out the items Qiao San wanted from the basket on her back—plus a few he hadn't requested, "Twenty pounds of rice, thirty pounds of flour, two strips of cured meat, and a five-pound jar of soybean oil. I'll give you the money altogether later."
Qiao San's face lit up with a smile, "Generous! You folks are generous. I'm just an old man living next to a cesspit, really not afraid of people smelling the scent of meat."
Taking his words to heart, he actually seemed to take pleasure in living next to a cesspit.
Feng Qingxue was speechless.
Now that the deal was done, she had Lu Jiang pack the items into the basket, "Where's the treasure you mentioned?"
