The sunset glow dyed the sky blue canvas golden and red, and the night watchmen in the town have begun to prepare for equipment.

After Simon and his group settled in Koblenz's tavern, Miller, Gabriel, and a few tavern guys with some spare money went to the bathing grounds for fun with the caravan guards.

Simon could only say that he was curious about the bathing ground, but he had no interest in taking a bath. He could hardly imagine what these savage guys who didn't take a bath for months or even years and who liked to urinate and defecate at will would make the public bathing ground look like - even Simon himself hadn't taken a bath for a while.

The fat man wanted to go to the bath with Gabriel and the others, but Simon sent him an additional task to inquire about the local grape harvest sales in the town, which made his dreams soaked. However, as Simon's most loyal servant, the fat man just muttered and complained a few times.

"Young master, I've found out that the entire Trier grape has basically been harvested, and most of them have been entered into the local winery. The remaining batch of grapes were also bought by a caravan passing north from Lombardy two days ago." The fat man returned to the tavern and said to Simon with a bitter face.

"Well..." Simon touched his beard, which was growing longer and longer, and thought carefully in his mind. Originally, Simon heard that there were high-quality wine-making grapes here, and planned to buy a batch of grapes to go back and use grape meat to make wine. The grape skin can be used to try the purple dye cloth.

"Dear Lord Simon, I just heard a caravan coming from the east saying that in Frankfurt, not far east of Trier, there is a vineyard belonging to the Bishop of Frankfurt fiefs, which has not been harvested until now," Dyson, a young man, saw Simon in distress, took a sip of honey wine, walked over with a wooden wine glass and said, "It is said that the Bishop of Frankfurt is very strict. He once made a stipulation in the vineyard that all grapes must be picked with his consent. So after the grapes ripened, the local church sent a monk to Mainz to find the Bishop of Frankfurt, but after a long time, there was no one who replied."

"There is such a thing!" Simon was shocked, but he also felt that it was very normal. In this era, there are many more absurd regulations than these old-fashioned regulations that do not know how to adapt, so it is not surprising.

"Yes, this has made the oppressed farmers who are usually very happy. They are very happy to abide by the bishop's regulations and not picking ripe grapes and letting them rot." A bright smile appeared on the young man Dyson's face.

"Is there such a good thing?" Simon couldn't help but feel secretly happy. Only the ripe wine-wine grapes infected with gray mold can be used to make precious rot wine, and can they use the sweet and delicious dried fruit grains to create a continuous, delicate and warm taste.

"I think we can detour the eastward through Frankfurt to see the grapes in the vineyard, and then go south to Mainz." Simon told the fat man what he planned.

"But young master, there is nothing else but rotten grapes!" The fat man touched his ears in confusion.

"I have my own plans." Simon waved his hand and called the tavern maid to ask for two glasses of fruit wine.

"Dyson, why didn't you go to the bathhouse with them?" Simon took a sip of the fruit wine and looked up at the energetic young man in front of him.

"I, me," the young man Dyson blushed like a ripe apple on a tree. "When I was in the village, the pastor told us that lust was a sin."

"Oh?" Simon put down the wooden wine glass and laughed, "I didn't expect you to be such a devout believer!"

"To be honest, I really want to go out with them. But I know that there must be a peaceful country like a paradise waiting for me in the distance." When the young man Dyson said this, his eyes were filled with hope.

"What Anle Township?" The fat man took a big sip of fruit wine and took off the thick turban with some heat.

"This is what I heard from a bard. I later decided to join the caravan and travel around a large part of it because of this story," Dyson, the young man cleared his throat and slowly told it under the constant leaping firelight on the walls of the tavern. "There is a piece of land everywhere, and it was blessed by God and the saints. The walls of the house were piled up with salmon and wolf perch, the rafters were made of sturgeons, and the roof was not hay, but bacon and sausage."

"My God, it won't be long before everyone will eat their house unrecognizable and then be homeless?" The fat man asked in confusion with his index finger at the greasy oak dining table.

"Of course not, because their streets are full of fat gooses that are rotating and turning on iron forks, and there are tables with exquisite white dining cloths everywhere. Anyone can sit down and eat and drink for free anytime, anywhere, so that no one will be stupid enough to eat their own house." Dyson, the young man, had a little knotted with his tongue under the influence of alcohol, but he looked extremely excited.

"Lord, this is such a good place to be carefree." The fat man raised his wooden wine glass and burped. Simon saw that the fat man's wide rosacea became as red as the circus clown's nose.

"Of course, there is also a wine stream there, half of which is high-quality Bona wine, half of which is excellent La Rochelle and Ausselle white wine, and there are gold wine glasses that can scoop up the wine by themselves. The most amazing thing is that the calendar there is simply for enjoyment. Every day is Sunday, every day is holiday, and there is only one fasting period every twenty years." Speaking of this, the young man Dyson glanced at the inferior honey wine in his hand and drank it all in one gulp. Why did he speak, as if the honey wine in his mouth turned into red wine flowing in the stream in Anle Township.

"In addition, the bard also said that it will rain three days a week, but it is not a simple rain, but a hot pig blood sausage. There, money is useless, and the fields are filled with unpicked purses full of gold coins. Oh, by the way, all the women there are very beautiful, and every man can choose the women they like, and of course, every woman can also choose the men they like, everyone is respected and everyone is equal." The young man Dyson felt that he felt more and more disappointed with this land full of hunger and injustice.

In Simon's view, this is just a story that tells the simplest survival demands of the vast majority of farmers.

"Oh! Beauty, I guess Miller and Gabriel are in the wonderful peaceful country now?" The fat man said to himself, taking another sip of the slutty wine.

"Even if there is such a place, with these foolish people's virtue of liking to urinate and defecate everywhere, the ground will be covered with feces within a week." Simon curled his lips.

"The wool merchants in Anle Township are very kind. They distribute all kinds of new clothes for free every month, even precious robes made of violet dyed cloth, good wool sweaters, and even silk from the far east." The young man Dyson patted his ragged linen robe full of patches and filth and the green hood that had not been washed for a long time, shaking his head.

The fat man was a little drunk, but he just looked at Dyson with his hazy eyes, hoping that he would continue to talk. The young man Dyson felt a little dry, but there was no wine in the wine glass, so he simply stood up and walked towards the bar, asking the tavern shopkeeper to help him scoop a glass of honey in the big wooden wine barrel behind the counter.

For a moment, the tavern, where there were not many people, suddenly became quiet. Only the torches made of animal fat burned and the heavy odor and smoke emitted by the burning of animal fat in the air.

The brief quiet was broken by a table and two caravans playing dice gambling games next to them and a few townspeople in the corner of the wall who were drinking while making vulgar jokes. The tavern was restored to the tepid and lively atmosphere.

Simon felt a little dizzy in his head. Maybe he had drunk too much, so he patted the fat man on the shoulder and walked to the guest room on the second floor alone.

……………………

The next morning, Simon woke up not long after the first ray of Chuyang came out.

Simon stood up from the flea nest full of sweat and musty smell and vomit, or on the hay bed, and shook his heavy head and opened the old and rotten wooden window. For a moment, a cool morning breeze, carrying the disgusting smell of urine feces in the town of Koblenz, made Simon sober a lot.

"We have to leave." Simon put on his clothes, armor and helmets, knocked on the doors of the fat man, Miller and Gabriel, but saw these three lazy guys sleeping soundly with alcohol all over his body.

Simon wanted to go downstairs to get a wooden basin to scoop a large basin of cold water to wake the three of them up, but was worried that they would be sick, so he had to kick each of them hard on the butt.

Having said that, the cowardly businessman Aubrey had no objection to Simon's attempt to detour Frankfurt. Of course, he did not dare to raise any objections. He just ran to the room where his friend lived and informed everyone.

When Simon and the cowardly businessman Aubrey opened the wooden door of the tavern and came to the stable, they saw that the two caravan guards who stayed to guard the horses last night, one of the pack horses lying on their side was snoring and thunderous, while the other middle-aged caravan guards were lying comfortably in the pile of horse manure next to the stable.

"Once a person is tired, as long as he sleeps comfortably, he can sleep well even if he sleeps in a pile of feces," Simon thought so.
Chapter completed!