Gone With The Bustling World Chapter 43: Chapter Thirty-Nine

Translator: Antonia
Streets in Bafang were crowded with shuttling people and carriages.

Stores stood one after another, with sign flags fluttering in breeze and ceaseless hawking of vendors.

There were restaurants, shops selling cosmetics, apparels, weapons, antiques, various snacks and jewelry…

In a short time, Bafang had turned from a desolate border town into a prosperous business hub connecting many places.

The speed of its development suggested the sign of becoming the top commercial town in the world!

Feeling the heat of clamors, Xiao Qingyu couldn't help but be touched by the simple smiling faces.

Perhaps, the busy hustling folks were the real creators of history.

Humble, low like gra.s.sroots at the feet of flowers, they kept fighting and never stopped trying!

He heard Fang Junqian whispering to him, “Qingyu, see that? The land can't take on this new look without you…”

Xiao Qingyu lowered his head, a smile crawling on his lips.

“Qingyu,” he said sincerely, “thank you.”

The owner of Treasure Wonton was rubbing his hand nervously now: he never imagined two fairy-like good-looking n.o.ble youth could droop down to walk into his shop!

He wiped the table again and again, just fearing that a grain of dust might stain their clothes. His face turned red from excitement!

The childe in white in a wheelchair had a soft cinnabar between his eyebrows which looked graceful and n.o.ble. He was gorgeous but indifferent, as if nothing in the world worth his one single glance.

To his right sat a distinguished and charming boy. A flamboyant masculinity and some inexplicable quality mixed together in him, which, along with his languid and proud countenance at present, was enough to impress any unmarried girl.

Just now, when they walked down the street, many stopped and followed them with a blank gaze.

The own stuttered, “What…What can I help you…?”

Duke Fang teased him, “What else can we have in a wonton stall other than wontons?”

“Yes…right!” The owner sweated from nervousness, “I'm too old!”

Fang Junqian ordered readily, “Two bowls of wontons. Add more seasonings.”

“Okay!” The stall owner went to cook wontons in joy.

“I've hung around in every corner of Bafang. Here, they have the best wontons.” Duke Fang poured tea and set chopsticks, very hospitable, “The treasure of Treasure Wonton means five ingredients: celery, mushroom, shallot, shrimp and cabbage. The treasure wonton is quite famous, so I take you here to have a taste!”

Xiao Qingyu was amused by Fang Junqian's expression of offering certain treasure.

“Here you are~~” The stall owner served two bowls of freshly boiled wontons, “Enjoy!”

Duke Fang smiled, “Thank you.”

But the owner didn't want to leave. It was better to stay longer and got a wisp of that n.o.bility!

“I guess both of you arrived in here not long ago. You look unfamiliar.” He guessed boldly.

Duke Fang for a moment wanted to laugh—It's because of me that you can come to Bafang for business. How did you know I just arrived in here?

Xiao Qingyu was carefully tasting his wonton. He ate slowly, chewed carefully and tasted the soup in small sips. His expression of gratification didn't look like eating wontons, but like enjoying some rare delicious food. The whether was hot, and so were the wontons. His chilly-jade like cheeks surfaced two mists of rose color. A thin film of sweat also exuded on his forehead.

That, falling into the eyes of Duke Fang, was Childe Wushuang peeled off from his halo and resuming to an ordinary seventeen-year-old youth, which was both real and salacious…

He pushed the cabbage pickle to his hand, “The wontons get better with this.”

Seeing this, the owner chimed in, “You two really sweet. Are you brothers?”

“No.” Duke Fang was suddenly in the mood of teasing the owner, smiling wickedly and announcing, “He is my man.”

Ah~~~!

The owner was struck by a lightning and gazed at these two men in shock! —

Xiao Qingyu only stilled for a second at his words and continued to eat his wontons. —Not even a drop of the soup splashed.

He heard such words a million times a day and was already numb at them.

Of course Xiao Qingyu wouldn't be angry with Duke Fang for such things. Otherwise, he didn't need or have the time to do anything else except for being angry.

The owner's fingers trembled, “He's…your man?”

Duke Fang nodded, “My man.”

He was my Qingyu.

My Qingyu. The two words lingering in his tongue, more delicious than any great cuisine in the world, making him more gratified than anything else.

My Qingyu.