According to traditional customs, the fifth day of the first lunar month is also called "Powu".
It is said that Powu is the day when the Poor God descends to the next world. The Poor God is Jiang Ziya’s wife Ma, a famous “husband-carrying woman” in Chinese mythology and legends.
Jiang Ziya consecrated the gods and made Ma the poor god, ordering him to "return as soon as he is broken", which means that he can only go out for fun on the fifth day of breaking.
Therefore, it is not a good day to travel far, not to get married, not to offer sacrifices, and not to do anything else.
In the evening, a young man appeared on Fuxi Road. He was about 25 or 26 years old. He was wearing a light gray windbreaker and a black hat, and was carrying a brown leather suitcase.
This man looks handsome, but there is a faint scar on his left cheek, which adds a bit of ferocity to his elegant temperament.
His name is Xu Siqi, originally from Hefei, Anhui Province. He is an international student who has just returned from Japan. This time he came to Shanghai specifically to join his old classmate Zheng Zheng.
"Excuse me, please tell me how to get to No. 330 Fuxi Road?"
"Excuse me, where is No. 330 Fuxi Road?"
………
Xu Siqi asked six or seven people in succession, but no one knew the exact address of No. 330 Fuxi Road.
There are many food stalls on the street, including Yangchun noodles, wontons, fried steamed buns, scallion pancakes, steamed buns, etc., no less than a dozen kinds.
Xu Siqi didn't eat at noon. Seeing that it was already time for dinner, he thought that since he couldn't find it for a while, he should fill his stomach first.
A snack stall next to it looked relatively clean and tidy, so Xu Siqi walked over.
"Boss, a bowl of Yangchun noodles."
Xu Siqi sat down, put his suitcase on the bench, took out cigarettes and matches from his pocket, took out one and lit it.
He looked around and saw that there were very few customers in the food stall. At the same table as him was a young man in a student uniform, and a man with thick eyebrows and big eyes sat at another table.
Soon, a steaming bowl of Yangchun noodles was brought over.
The boss said attentively: "Sir, would you like to try two fried pancakes? It's ten cents each, very cheap."
"Okay, let's have two." Xu Siqi was indeed hungry, so he picked up his chopsticks and started eating noodles.
The boss quickly heated up the pan and heated up the oil. While frying the steamed buns, he chatted with Xu Siqi: "Are you a foreigner?"
"Well, my hometown is Hefei."
"Your accent doesn't sound like...I often have people from Anhui coming here to eat noodles. They speak their hometown dialect, but I can't understand a word of it."
Xu Siqi didn't explain too much about the accent. He took a spoon and took a sip of the soup. He praised: "Boss, your Yangchun noodles taste really good. It would be even better if you add more coriander."
The boss smiled and said: "If you come here in two months, you will definitely have coriander."
Xu Siqi said: "Let me ask you about this... Do you know where No. 330 Fuxi Road is?"
"No. 330, Fuxi Road?" The boss frowned and thought for a while, then shook his head slightly and said, "I have lived on Fuxi Road for more than 40 years, and I have never heard of No. 330."
The young student stopped his chopsticks and said to Xu Siqi: "Sir, did you get the wrong address? Could it be Foch Road?"
The characters "Xu" and "Xi" are written in very similar fonts. Zheng Zheng's character has always been careless, so he might have written the characters wrongly.
"Classmate, where is Foch Road?"
“The French Concession, opposite the Golden Theater, is easy to find.”
"Thank you, classmate. Fortunately I met you, otherwise I would still be wandering around here."
"You're welcome."
The boss said with emotion: "It's better to study. For someone like me who can't read, it's useless to ask me..."
Halfway through his words, his expression suddenly changed, and he looked like he was hesitating to speak and winked at Xu Siqi.
At the same time, a hand quietly reached out and suddenly grabbed the suitcase on the bench.
Xu Siqi didn't look back, but bumped his elbow behind him. He only heard an "ouch" sound, and someone fell heavily to the ground.
A man with acne on his face got up from the ground, pointed at the boss with his hand, and said viciously: "Old Liutou, I asked you to mind your own business, just wait for me!"
After saying this, the guy ran away in a hurry.
The boss was stunned for a while, and couldn't help but sigh softly: "Oh, no wonder Po Wu's life is not good, I am provoking someone..."
"Why, are you afraid that he will retaliate against you?" Xu Siqi had long noticed that someone was trying to do something wrong, but the boss kindly reminded himself that he could not just ignore it and pretend that nothing happened. After all, he had good intentions.
"The man just now is called Amao. He is from the Qing Gang and often does evil in this area..." The boss looked sad.
"Then, no one cares about this kind of thing?"
"This is Shanghai. Don't talk about us ordinary people. Even the police give the Qing Gang three points... Alas, you are a foreigner. I won't understand even if I tell you."
The student finished his noodles in a hurry and said to the boss: "Uncle, you'd better stay away. When they come, they won't smash your stall."
The boss nodded sadly. For offending the Qinggang for a stranger he had never met, he now somewhat regretted it.
Before the boss could finish cleaning up the stall, four or five strong men came over aggressively, led by none other than Amao.
Without saying a word, Amao kicked up a table and shouted loudly: "Brothers, smash it!"
The boss panicked and said repeatedly: "Don't smash it, don't smash it. Why don't you just leave if I leave? I'll leave right away."
Amao sneered and said: "Let's go? Where are we going? I smashed your stall today just to make you remember, sell your Yangchun noodles well, and stop meddling in your mother's business!"
Xu Siqi was about to speak when the guest who had been eating noodles suddenly said: "Bullying the weak means bullying the common people. Zhang Xiaolin's disciples and disciples are becoming less and less mature!"
"Who the hell are you? Are you allowed to call Mr. Zhang by his name?" Amao waved his arms and walked over in three unsteady steps.
"Be careful, he has a knife!" Xu Siqi saw clearly that Amao quietly pulled out a dagger from his waist.
"Snapped!"
A bowl of Yangchun noodles, soup and water, was placed on Amao's face.
Amao yelled and took several steps back. He felt his face was getting hot. He reached out and touched the blood on his hand, and the enamel bowl broke his nose.
This time he gave up and charged forward with a few noodles on his head and brandishing a dagger.
The guest flew up and kicked Ah Mao to the ground, stepped on his chest with his foot, and turned to Xu Siqi and said, "Thanks, brother."
Ah Mao was kicked and groaned in pain. His ribs must have been broken and they wouldn't heal in three to five months. He thought to himself, no wonder it's not appropriate to talk about five things. Today was simply not going well!