The market was bustling with people, and the heat mixed with the smell of dust and sweat made people dizzy.
Ning Changqing's stall is very simple, with an old cloth on the floor and a few calligraphy and paintings on it. He himself leaned against the wall, closed his eyes and meditated, and turned a deaf ear to the noise around him.
A burst of chaotic footsteps stopped in front of the stall, casting a shadow that completely enveloped his calligraphy and painting.
"Hey, isn't this our great talent Ning Changqing from Anhe County? He came out to sell paintings again today?"
A smooth and malicious voice sounded.
Ning Changqing opened his eyes. Standing in front of him was Zhang San, a well-known rogue in the west of the city, followed by three or five sleazy gangsters.
He didn't speak, just looked at the other person calmly.
Zhang San squatted down and picked up a piece of writing with his fat fingers, "Tsk, tsk, this writing is really good. I just don't know if I can exchange it for food."
The helpers behind him burst into laughter.
"Ning Caizi, have you paid the 'stall fee' for setting up a stall in this market?" Zhang San stood up and tapped the paintings on the ground with his toes.
Ning Changqing finally spoke, with a calm voice: "I sell my own calligraphy and paintings, not a vendor."
"I don't care what you sell!" Zhang San stepped on a landscape painting and crushed it. "On this street, you have to pay even if you can't breathe! Seeing that you are a scholar, I will give you face, three hundred wen a day, so pay it today."
The onlookers around him avoided each other and whispered, but no one dared to come forward. Three hundred coins, an ordinary street vendor may not be able to earn this amount in ten days. This is obviously a deliberate attempt to make things difficult.
Ning Changqing knew in his heart that this was not a stall fee, but a humiliation.
He pulled open the laces and unfolded the scroll.
