When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#714 - Shengxieting Vegetable Market Street (Part 1)

The carriage crunched over the thin layer of snow on the road, making a creaking sound.

Sitting in the carriage, Grossien wrapped his thick woolen coat tighter around himself, squinting at the core city of the Holy Union.

Although it was already morning, the winter sky remained gray, and the entire Holy See of Machina was shrouded in dimness and vagueness.

As the mail coach he was riding in got closer to the urban area of the Holy See of Machina, he could hear the city yawning.

The hissing sound of boiling water.

The jingling of old windows being opened.

The scolding of mothers waking their children.

The greetings of citizens heading out.

From the Vegetable Market Street came a melodious sound of bagpipes.

Those who knew the sound of the bagpipes understood that the Vegetable Market Street was opening; compared to the 3 a.m. opening in summer, winter was delayed to 4 a.m.

By the time Grossien arrived in front of Vegetable Market Street, the clock tower had just chimed six times, signifying that it was six in the morning.

So, when the mail coach arrived in front of Vegetable Market Street, he could only see carriages loaded with cabbage leaves, radish leaves, and pig and sheep manure slowly driving away, and not the grand scene of loading, unloading, and wholesale.

"We're at Vegetable Market Street, Brother!" The mail coach driver reined in his stout, short horse and tipped his hat to Grossien.

Grossien slapped his dozing brother-in-law, Kalle, awake, turned his head, and asked the driver, "I haven't been here in a while, is the fish stall still in the same place?"

"It's been moved; go forward a hundred and fifty steps, the side by the river is where they sell fish, meat, chicken, and duck. You'll know you're there when you see a red-roofed shed."

"Thank you so much." Grossien pulled his brother-in-law, Kalle, out of the green-painted mail coach and pulled out the money bag from his coat lining. "How much do I owe you?"

"It's no trouble at all, Brother." The driver responded with a smile while cracking his whip, heading towards the Holy See of Machina post office with a crisp sound.

"May the Holy Father bless you!" Grossien quickly waved and offered a blessing.

Straightening his clothes, Grossien stepped on the black, ribbon-covered slush, carefully discerning the direction.

The cold wind, carrying the smell of fish and spices, blew on his face, and Kalle tried to open his eyes, looking around at the Vegetable Market Street before him.

In January of 1448, the Holy See of Machina was in the festive afterglow of the New Year holiday.

The Vegetable Market Street, located on the east side of the Holy See of Machina, was the first place to become lively, with at least half of the Holy See of Machina relying on it for food.

Dim lights illuminated the street in a semi-darkness, also illuminating the pedestrians coming and going in a semi-darkness.

Workers in blue wool, employees in gray jackets, monks draped in embroidered black robes, housewives with aprons tied around their waists...

Regardless of social class, they were all jostling on the street, carrying steaming paper cups of milk, stopping at uniform stalls to pick and bargain.

Their clothes were clean and tidy, the ground was paved with floor tiles, and no one was urinating or defecating on the street or arbitrarily dumping dung buckets from upstairs.

This was not seen in other cities, not even outside the Thousand River Valley or the Papal Special Zone.

Fixed stalls built by the city hall, sidewalks and driveways paved with floor tiles, and stinky sewage flowing under hollow covers made of mortar.

Kalle was from Hotham County and had been to Flyingwater Fortress (now Greenwater City) more than once.

Even Greenwater City, the largest city in the Thousand River Valley, had streets filled with excrement, pigs and sheep running rampant, vendors setting up stalls everywhere, and thugs hiding in street corners ready to extort.

After recognizing the road, Grossien kicked his brother-in-law's calf, "Keep up with me, don't get lost."

"Okay." Feeling inexplicably nervous, Kalle quickly followed behind his brother-in-law, heading towards the depths of Vegetable Market Street.

Compared to the impoverished farmer Grossien of three years ago, he had discarded his coarse clothes and straw sandals, replacing them with a cashmere vest and a sleeved cloak.

Not only did he have a cane with a hidden stiletto at his waist, but also an expensive pocket watch sewn into his chest pocket.

Most importantly, compared to the small fishpond owner Grossien, this Grossien had a lot more cunning and shrewdness in his simple and honest face.

The young Kalle beside him was wearing a knee-length padded jacket, a thin leather armor, and a leather belt with an iron buckle around his waist, which held a light short sword and a small iron shield.

Although the Holy See of Machina was the Pope's model city with good public security, the Road of Glory (Road of Blood and Sweat) leading to the Holy See of Machina was not so peaceful.

If robbed by masked bandits, unless they were high-ranking monks or officers, there was really no good way to catch them.

This time, Grossien came to the Holy See of Machina to discuss business, so he simply brought his brother-in-law, who had served as an armored soldier, to escort him.

Strolling through Vegetable Market Street, Grossien, who had been there several times, was familiar with the way, while Kalle was dazzled.

Vegetable Market Street was actually two streets, with three rows of stalls plus a row of shops.

The stalls had wooden frames inserted into stone pillars, and the frames were covered with oilcloth tiles and thatch.

Merchants stood under the eaves that sheltered from rain and snow, poking the bottom of the oilcloth with mops, and the accumulated snow would fall down with a crash.

Several children would come forward with brooms, sweeping the fallen snow to the side and piling it into snowdrifts to avoid fines from the night watchmen or customers falling.

Looking to the left was a row of stalls by the river, with a small cargo wharf connected behind the stalls.

Cabbages, radishes, and cheeses from South Mound County could flow down the newly built canal, directly into the Holy See of Machina and Joan of Arc Fortress.

Several stalls at the street entrance by the river sold vegetables and seasonings such as onions, peas, purple eggs, and parsley.

Further on were staple food stalls selling flaxseed oil, soybean oil, wheat flour, and potato root flour.

In the middle were merchants selling cheese, butter, honey, and sugar, and further on, you could see foods such as peat, pickles, nuts, and dried fruits.

Looking to the right, Kalle saw a row of two- or three-story brick and stone houses.

But regardless of height, their story height and eave lines were consistent.

The houses, painted white or off-white, were inlaid with red tile or copper-colored roofs.

Rows of doors were open, hanging new or second-hand clothes on both sides, as well as shops selling scissors, nail hammers, and sewing needles, or furniture or spices.

The employees under the stairs on the first floor were still sweeping snow, and the sound of the boss and his wife fighting could be heard from the windows made of broken glass on the second floor.

After the unification of the entire Thousand River Valley, the Papal Palace began to burn glass with peat in places with quartz sand, such as the beaches of Golden River Township.

Although it could not burn transparent flat glass like that of Whitesand, this uneven colored glass could be burned in large quantities.

After all, sand and peat were low in cost, and it was not required to be very transparent, as long as it could transmit light.

Currently, under Horn's promotion, most of the houses in the Holy See of Machina have been replaced with lattice windows and colored glass.

Because the technology was too poor, colored glass could not be burned too large, only the size of a palm, and then inlaid in the lattice windows.

However, the doors of shops facing the street, especially food shops, used expensive transparent glass the size of picture frames.

In the hazy mist, through the glass and orange lights, you could see customers eating in the rolling water vapor.

Holding a red purple egg sauce noodle, diners mixed black pepper sauce into the minced meat, mixed with the brown greasy gravy.

Almost pouring it all in, sticky and gooey, all into the mouth, and then snapping his fingers for a cup of blue pulp coffee.

Wiping the remaining oily soup with bread, and finally putting the last bite of bread into his stomach, the coffee arrived just in time, so he picked it up and drank it all.

After eating a mess, sweating and tearing, the customers stood up, picked up their hats and gloves and waved: "See you later."

After greeting several familiar neighbors, they hurried down to the pier and took a boat to the factory downstream.

Through the glass, Kalle could see the fragrant bread and greasy broth, as if he could see the tempting aroma with his eyes.

His stomach immediately growled.

"Brother-in-law, we've been in the car for 3 hours, why don't we eat first?" Kalle couldn't help but point to the taverns and restaurants on the street.

Grossien immediately shook his head: "Those brick and tile restaurants have to pay taxes, and the prices are much higher than the stalls. We can't spend money indiscriminately now that we have money.

A bowl of soup will cost you three dinars, and if you don't feel bad, I'll feel bad.

Walk a few steps forward, and I'll take you to eat cheaper Vegetable Market Street stalls, which are tastier and cheaper than those restaurants."