The July sun beat down fiercely, roasting the entire Cuiping Alley like a steamer.
Yu Shi squatted in front of the vegetable stall, holding two handfuls of green onions in his hand, with an expression on his face that was more serious than when a creditor came to his door.
"Aunt Zhang, you only have this little green onion left after you cut off the top and bottom. Do you want me to have two pieces?"
"Only two yuan! If you think it's too expensive, go buy it elsewhere!" Aunt Zhang is a fat lady in her fifties. Her voice is louder than a trumpet. She puts her hands on her waist and shows a posture of refusing to give in.
Yu Shi put the green onion under his nose and smelled it, then picked it up and shook it, and said slowly: "Look, the leaves are wilted. Can I pay you one and a half yuan?"
"No!"
"One dollar and six."
"No!"
