Liu Shengli smiled at the fat uncle standing inside the window and handed over two large bowls filled with half-cooked steamed buns.
"You listen to me and share with you. We make buns for five minutes and break them for one hour. This is the fantasy social culture of steamed buns in the ancient capital of thirteen dynasties."
Putting the big bowl on the table, Liu Shengli made a joke in Xi'an dialect, then took Tie Jun to wash his hands, washed them, and sat down opposite each other.
"Beijing people like skewers, Chengdu people are keen on rubbing sesame seeds, Nanjing people are proud of snacks, Bingcheng people love stinky noodles, Xi'an people are the best, which one is the best?"
"Hehe, bye bye!"
"That's right, this is a craft, and it's also a skill. Watch it, break it off, rub it, pinch it, it's all about cultivating one's character, meditating on Zen, and enlightening the Tao!"
Watching Liu Shengli roll the steamed bun into the size of soybeans, Tie Jun was ashamed.
I have been to Xi'an several times in my previous life, and the most disgusting thing was watching those northwest men twisting their orchid fingers, rubbing their buns, and pulling their wives' tongues.
It seems now that it was still a problem with my mentality at that time. I was not in a good state of mind and did not understand the cultural heritage and nostalgia contained in Xi'an.
After calming down, Tie Jun slowly explained his plan, calmly breaking, pinching, pinching, and rubbing, and the neutralizing energy entered his body. It was really wonderful.
"Brother Tie, you are a thoughtful person. No, we have to have two drinks. No matter what the outcome is, I have to express my gratitude!"
After hearing Tie Jun's plan, Liu Shengli was very excited. After finishing his sentence, he stood up and asked for a bottle of Xifeng wine.
"Brother Liu, this morning..."
"Are you from the Northeast? When the mood comes, it's morning and night!"
"Yes, brother, I was wrong, drink!"
Just like that, two tea eggs, a plate of soy sauce beef, the steamed buns continued to be broken, the wine continued to flow, the two of them pushed cups and changed cups, and the chatter became more and more speculative.
"Brother, there are many similarities between this guy from the northwest and our guys from the northeast.
They all have the same upright temper, bold and enthusiastic people, and they also like to talk at the back of their necks, slap the table and glare, and go out of their way to hurt their friends.
But there is one thing that makes us Northeastern men feel ashamed!"
Liu Shengli gasped and slapped the table. Tie Jun knew that he drank too fast and had no choice. Soldiers drink like this. He won't put it down when he picks it up. He must do it.
"Oh? Then I have to listen carefully. Who did our Northeastern men serve? The boss of heaven, the second boss of earth, who dares to steal the third child from me..."
"this one!"
Liu Shengli slammed the table and pointed at Tie Jun.
"this one!"
After repeating the sentence, seeing Tie Jun shut up, Liu Shengli sat down again.
"Just these seven disobedient and eight dissatisfied bad tempers have ruined many major things!
Instead of talking about us, we still talk about guys from the northwest, with one word, tolerance!"
"Tolerate?"
Tie Jun was stunned and repeated.
"That's right, tolerance, by extension, means being low-key, being able to bend and stretch, being unfazed by changes, and being open-minded to all rivers!"
"Brother, you praise too much. It's not that I object to you. There are people like this everywhere."
"Isn't it right to argue?
You are talking about a few, I am talking about most.
Don't be dissatisfied, let me explain to you.
Think of the desolate Gobi Desert, the endless desert, and the dusty loess slopes, and you will understand.
Since ancient times, men in the northwest have fought against the sky and the earth, facing the loess and turning their backs to the sky.
Is scolding useful?
Is complaining useful?
It can actually hear it?
What to do?
Tolerate!
Show the spirit of the Foolish Old Man who moved mountains, lower your head, and do things in a down-to-earth manner. This is the pragmatic character of a man from the northwest, which has been accumulated for eight thousand years!"
Tie Jun slowly thought about what Liu Shengli said, and it made sense.
"I came to the Northwest in 1974, and today, for 18 years, this is my second hometown. Maybe, I will live on this yellow land for the rest of my life.
Do you know how poor Gansu is?
Just take Lanzhou, how many poor people are there?"
Liu Shengli changed the subject and brought it back to Gansu. Tie Jun's brain was a little short-circuited. Why did he start to show off his poverty all of a sudden?
“When talking about Lanzhou, we must mention Xigu, because there are the famous Lanhua and Lanlian, countless workers, and builders of the older generation.
Your father is an eighth-level worker, and you are a child of a heavy factory. You should know very well how fulfilling the life of Big Brother, a worker, was.
But if you go to Xigu, you will go out in a white shirt in the morning and turn into a black shirt when you come back at night. The sky will always be gray and the ground will always be muddy.
I am a pilot and I will tell you the truth. When you look at Xigu from the sky above Xigu, you will never know where it is. There are only black clouds, like a black mushroom.
I saw with my own eyes a whole row of small mud houses, some with three generations living together, and some with four generations living together. The most valuable thing in the house was a bicycle.
Can you imagine the scene of sleeping on a bed of earth with grandparents, parents, and three children?
A large family, three tattered blankets, each with big holes exposed, and three dry, hard buns, which were the family's rations.
Do you know why they are so poor?"
Liu Shengli choked up a little, and Tie Jun was very distressed. What kind of wine should he drink and accept re-education from the poor for no reason?
"Pollution. Anyone who works in a factory for more than ten years will suffer from occupational diseases. Grandpa and grandma are lying down, and mom and dad are suffering. How are the children doing?"
"Gudu!"
Liu Shengli shook the bottle and there was no wine left. He reached for the wine glass in front of Tie Jun and took a sip.
Tie Jun sighed, picked up the steamed bun bowl that Liu Shengli and himself had broken a long time ago, walked to the window, and handed the big bowl over.
The fat uncle had obviously been listening to Liu Shengli's speech. He also sighed, took out two pairs of trumpet cards, clamped them on the two bowls, and gave the remaining two to Tie Jun.
"If all of us, like this soldier, can think of the common people, our Northwest will be saved!"
The fat uncle sighed with emotion and went to cook steamed buns. Tie Jun smiled bitterly and said, "Save Mao. Gansu will soon rank last in GDP for more than ten years."
After bringing the steamed buns back, Liu Shengli fell asleep on the table. Tie Jun felt a little uncomfortable looking at the tough-minded man in front of him.
Compared to Liu Shengli, Tie Jun was more impressed by the fact that the Transformation of Officialdom in the Northwest was once a required ideological course for their political and legal system.
In the 1980s, Xi'an had an "Iron Mayor" who came from Tongchuan. He built city walls, cleaned the environment, protected people's livelihood, and governed the city with an iron fist, restoring the glory of the "abandoned city".
Unfortunately, he only worked for three years and passed away at the age of 65.
Generally speaking, the thinking of cadres and people at all levels in Xi'an is too conservative, coupled with frequent personnel transfers, it is difficult to implement long-term plans, let alone achieve great results.
Smart people put aside aging enterprises, struggled with urban construction, and vigorously developed tourism and culture. It was very effective, with a good reputation, and stepped onto the floating ladder.
The stupid ones tried their best, but only received three points of results. Moreover, they had many problems, including food, clothing, housing, and transportation. They were complained about everything. Within a few years, they left.
Repairing the ancient city wall, dredging the city river, opening up entertainment venues along the city river, and building imitations of Tang Street, Song Street, and Ming and Qing Streets are called great undertakings through the ages.
There is a complete range of food, drink and entertainment, and tourists from other places flock to the place to take advantage of the reputation of the Terracotta Warriors and Horses to engage in tourism. At the same time, there are a sudden increase in people moving around, and rotten horses and donkeys are rampant.
Soon, new names were added to the ancient capital, namely City of Thieves, City of Smoke, and City of Undercover Prostitutes. The people were being wronged, and the spell casters were already rising rapidly. No matter what city you call it!
The ancient capital is still the same ancient capital, and the people are still the same people. What can be remembered are only those bright places and bright stars.
People remember Lao Mouzi who made "Red Sorghum" and talk about the calmness of the old cow eating young grass, calling it a love marathon.
I remember Xu Wei who was uninhibited for his music, Jing Tian who was never popular, the little man who ruined his career because of smell, the low-key veteran Zhang Jiayi...