Before returning home to visit his relatives, Logan Yang had never bought a house. This time he hurried back to Beijing, without the company of his Yang family, so he had to continue to stay at the Chang'an Earl's Mansion.
The carriage passed through the city gate, and the sound of horse hooves was gradually drowned out by human voices.
The further we go, the louder the noise becomes, and it becomes more and more noisy.
Logan Yang pushed open the window of his car and saw many stalls on both sides of the street, with all kinds of people busy at work. There were vendors in coarse short jackets, merchants in silk robes and topless hats, and craftsmen of all ages, all busy propping up wooden poles, pulling long ropes, and spreading wooden boards.
In front of the stalls were wooden boxes of varying sizes, a few open and most tightly closed. Next to the boxes were fine wooden brocades and candles of varying thicknesses.
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