After a while, the old woman came and said that dinner was ready. So Chechen and others followed the old woman into the restaurant, and Michael insisted on staying to take care of the injured old man.

    When the old woman saw the gold belt put aside by the injured old man, her eyes straightened,

    In the restaurant, the simple table composed of boards cut from various tree species has been filled with bread, meat and wine. The area of the restaurant is very large. Obviously, it also undertakes the responsibility of part of the living room. On the wall opposite the door of the dining room is a fireplace, which is crackling with dry firewood. On the wall above the fireplace, there are all kinds of swords. In Che Chen''s eyes, these swords should have been used for some time, because some of them are no longer popular and few people use them. And the swords have a layer of black carbon gray.

    "Distinguished guests, please sit down. Come on, have some salt and bread first. Just make this your home." the old woman said warmly.

    "Make this your home."

    "This is your home."

    The old woman''s six sons echoed.

    Originally on the road, the old woman said that her six sons were like bears. Chechen thought it was an exaggeration of the old woman. But now, when the six men were standing in front of him, Chechen realized that it was really appropriate to say they were bears.

    Each of the six young men stood like a wall. Their palms were thicker than bear''s, and their thighs were wider and straighter than the birch.

    But they were as docile as dogs in front of the old woman.

    Cherchen and others sat down with the old woman''s family.

    At this time, Che Chen suddenly remembered that the old woman''s daughter-in-law was gone.

    "Warm old mother, where''s your daughter-in-law?" Chechen asked.

    "She went to eat in her room. Women can''t eat at the table here." the old woman picked up the knife on the table, cut off a large piece of bread, took it in her hand, and then said to Chechen.

    "So it is." Chechen nodded. However, he is not interested in this kind of discrimination against women, but since he is a guest in other people''s homes, and perhaps this is the custom in the Polotsk region, as an outsider, he certainly doesn''t say much.

    "Eat quickly, everyone. Eat quickly." the old woman shouted again, as if she couldn''t express her enthusiasm.

    The hospitality was difficult to resist, and everyone was really hungry, so Cherchen and Pedro began to move the knives and forks in front of them.

    Chechen cut a small piece of bread, sprinkled some salt on the pot on the table, and then began to chew. The bread may have been put for a long time, and the taste is relatively hard. But compared with the air dried meat they brought on the road, it is already a rare delicacy. Moreover, for some reason, Cherchen also tasted some bread from a bakery in Smolensk.

    "Mom, where did you buy this bread? It''s as delicious as the bread I ate in Smolensk." Chechen asked the old woman after swallowing the food in his mouth. He''s just looking for a topic to chat with. He doesn''t mean anything else.

    But the old woman listened to Chechen''s words. The knife and fork that was cutting pork slices suddenly stopped. She looked at Chechen. When she saw Chechen''s calm expression, she smiled and said, "all the bread in the world has the same taste. My bread is made of flour milled by my own mill."

    At this time, Pedro stood up again. He filled the glass in front of him and said loudly; "On behalf of my nephew and everyone, I am here to thank you and your sons for their warm hospitality. May God bless you forever."

    With that, Pedro drank a glass of wine slowly.

    Others also raised their glasses one after another, and drank them up, whether they were full or not.

    Although the food on the table is monotonous, there is plenty of wine. Especially when the old women saw that Pedro and fedot loved drinking so much, they kept persuading them to drink cup by cup.

    "Come, come. Have another drink." the old woman''s fourth son took up his glass and toasted Pedro. Before him, the other sons of the old woman had drunk with Pedro in turn.

    "Of course, of course, have another drink. Whoever doesn''t drink is a dog." although Pedro talks big, he is obviously a little drunk. When he said the dog, his finger pointed in the direction of Chechen.

    Fedot was no better. His cheeks were crimson. His hand grabbed the glass and fiddled with it on the table for several times before holding it.

    In this way, Chechen and Fatima kept awake. Chechen is young and has a superficial attitude towards wine. Fatima, on the other hand, is a * * *, and in the doctrine of * * *, she was originally forbidden to drink.

    "Young man, you should drink more."

    But if Chechen didn''t drink, it didn''t mean that no one advised him to drink. The old woman''s fourth son put his goal on Chechen after respecting Pedro.

    "No, No. I can''t drink very much," said Chechen, standing up to avoid.

    Just now, he understood the old lady''s ability to persuade her family to drink - it''s a pity that they don''t buy wine.

    "Old mother, are these weapons yours?"

    In order to avoid persuading wine, Chechen walked from the dining table to the fireplace and pretended to appreciate the sword hanging on the wall.

    "Of course, these are handed down from generation to generation in our family," the old woman said vaguely because her mouth was full of food.

    Che Chen looked at the sword hanging on the wall, and his eyes were attracted by the two weapons. One of them is a flame sword. This two handed sword was once very popular in Germany and almost a symbol of German mercenaries. This flame sword is obviously made by a famous swordsman, and the pattern of one horse and two men is etched on the sword body; The other one is a thin long sword, which is very similar to the "hummingbird" that Chechen lost, but the manufacturing process is more sophisticated. There is a badge of three sheep heads on the hilt.

    Suddenly, Chechen remembered something. A cold sweat came out of his back.

    "Oh, old mother. I''m full. I''ll ask Michael to come and have something to eat," Chechen turned around and tried to pretend to be natural and said to the old woman.

    "Go, go."

    Chechen hurried out of the door. He felt that his back was almost soaked with sweat.

    Chechen walked quickly to the only room with a light on. That''s where Michael and the injured old man rest.

    "Michael!" Chechen opened the door and shouted.

    Inside, Michael was talking to the old man. The old man looks much better. He can half sit up, but he is still very weak.

    "What''s up, Cherchen?" Michael asked, turning his head.

    At this time, the old man said in a weak but dignified voice, "go and pour me a bowl of fish soup. I''m hungry."

    "No fish soup." although he knew what he was going to say was more important, Chechen was frightened by the old man''s dignity and replied unconsciously.

    "No fish soup?"

    "No. just bread and salt," Chechen added.

    "I didn''t think I would die here."

    The old man shook his head and said.