"Eh? Brother Zhao, what are they selling up ahead that's attracting such a crowd?" Zhao Xinglin had received orders from the arrest officer to patrol the market with some brothers, and there, he saw a stall surrounded by people. The business looked booming, and he grew curious. A constable who had come along with him casually stopped someone who had just bought something from the stall.
"What are they selling at that stall, gathering so many people?"
"Replying to the government officer, it's a woman with a child about ten years old selling steamed buns and vegetables. The buns there are cheap, only five coins each. Many people are coming to buy," the lad replied without hesitation, eager to answer the inquiry from the constable. Indeed, his greased paper package contained several buns, different in color from those sold at the Bun Shop.