1986: My Happy Life in Provence

Chapter 147 Crazy Provencal People!

Under Ronan's persuasion, Zoe wrote two numbers, 1 and 7.

Since Freddy and Alan had no idea about the other 19 sheep, they had no choice but to follow Ronan and buy them together because this guy had the best fortune among all of them.

Since this time it was still a matter of chance and did not involve any technological content, several other people who did not consider themselves professional enough but were eager to try also joined in.

The gamble that could change one's destiny eventually turned into a collective activity in which each family contributed 100 francs and pooled together to buy the ticket.

“Group activities should look like group activities.”

Freddy gave 500 francs to the official betting agent and bought the number 11 champion, the number 1 second place, and the number 7 third place.

Alan said optimistically:

"No matter what the result is, it's a good thing that we can enjoy the most 'lively' day of the year in Bonnieux from the best location, isn't it?"

Ronan didn't quite believe Alan's words at first, thinking that it was just another "exaggeration" by the people of Provence. After all, Lourmarin had many busy days.

Isn’t it lively enough when the bright yellow shadow shuttles through the village?
Until the 20 'competitors' were led by their jockeys onto the main road of Bonnieux.
Everything is different.

Ronan had never experienced such a 'lively' day in his life, it was truly a day that could go down in history.

No, it's not just about excitement.

It's crazy!
After not seeing them for more than ten minutes, the sheep contestants looked very different.

Some of them wore beautiful clothes, and some wore small hats, looking like carefully dressed up "sheep dolls".

The most eye-catching one is a sheep contestant wearing both clothes and a hat.

"Did its jockey bring it to the beauty pageant?" Freddy grinned.

"Freddy, don't say that." Old Carl propped himself up with his cane and walked to the edge of the terrace, where the view was the best. "That's the No. 7 we bought."

Louis repeatedly confirmed its 'PR photo' on the poster:
"That's it, No. 7."

It was only at this time that the investors discovered that the No. 1 sheep player they bought was not in a good situation either.

Its 'jockey' is a big fat man.

Competitor No. 1 may achieve a good result but it is hard to say about his jockey as the whole race is more than 3 kilometers.

Zoe hugged herself with some self-blame, obviously not expecting her 'premonition' to be so bad.

Ronan smiled and comforted her:
"It doesn't matter. Participation is what's important. What's important is that everyone can participate in this exciting game together."

Ronan continued to comfort Freddy who had "high hopes" for this:
"But the No. 11 sheep you picked seems to have the potential to win. I saw his jockey sharpen the stick with a dagger, while the other jockeys didn't do that. He really wants to win first place."

Zoe said in a low voice:

“It’s not necessarily about getting first place. The last-place sheep will be roasted and eaten.”

"Roasted?" A family from Paris expressed the same shock.

Louis explained to them:
"This is a custom in Provence. When the sheep migrate to the pastures from May to July, there are many sheep-related activities in various places, and sheep must be slaughtered on the spot."

"Okay." The guys from Paris learned something new.

During the conversation, there was suddenly a noisy quarrel and the impatient bleating of the contestants from downstairs.

It turned out to be a car that had lost its way and unfortunately drove into this section of road from a fork in the road. The owner hoped to pass through here and get on the highway.

But unfortunately, on his way to the highway, there were hundreds of onlookers and 20 sheep waiting for the race.

The car owner was not at all frightened by the grand scene in front of him.

He closed the car door stubbornly, the engine roared, and the car continued to move forward, about to come into close contact with the crowd.

"Brave native of Provence." Ronan crossed his arms and watched with great interest.

The people of Provence believe that the car is their fortress and their armor. As long as they sit in this iron box, they don’t need to be afraid of other vehicles or telephone poles in front of them.

"But he picked a bad time," Louis said gloatingly, "Bonnieux Village's busiest day of the year doesn't mind adding some 'busy' spice."

The situation downstairs was gradually getting out of control. The staff of the organizer kept waving their hands in the hope that the car would move back, but it was to no avail. The distance between the two sides was getting closer and closer.

The crowd of onlookers automatically opened up a small gap, and several soldiers holding huge drums and cymbals moved towards the car while beating their "weapons" vigorously, and quickly surrounded it.

This 'magic' attack takes effect very quickly.

In less than a minute, the driver's eyes became bulging and his mind became distracted, as if he had lost all life force. Amid the cheers of the crowd, he finally 'surrendered' and left the battlefield.

The instrument attacked not only the driver, but also the people around him. Ronan seemed to have experienced a heart attack in advance:
"Why is there a band here?"

As if to answer Ronan's question, a man's heart-wrenching cry came from the terrace of some restaurant next door, followed by more men howling:
"This year it's Miss Morley from the Alrind Ballroom!"

Ronan tried hard to control his micro-expressions, not wanting others to see that he knew the meaning of this sentence.

Allind Ballroom?

That famous strip club in Apt?!

But Ronan was totally overthinking it, as the reputation of the Allinde Ballroom was known everywhere in Provence.

More than a dozen musical instruments combined to create a beautiful movement. Amid the passionate music, the lady named Molly shook her breasts and hips and called on everyone to "have fun".

The crowd went completely wild.

Everyone started dancing, and countless hands waved aimlessly in the air to the passionate music.

This kind of scene, which can only be seen in the red-light district of Paris at night, was staged in Provence in broad daylight.

Freddy, Alan, Louis, Leah. Even old Carl, leaning on his crutches, wiggled his hips towards his wives.

Even those who don't have a dance partner can keep their own shadow company to the fast-paced music.

Ronan gave up the idea of going to the bathroom to 'calm down'. If he moved now, he would definitely be hit by countless straight punches and uppercuts, and he might even be whipped by a necklace thrown by someone.

Zoe's hearty laughter came to my ears.

Ronan turned his head.

Thank goodness, Zoe was still the same person he knew!
"Provence has more than one face," Zoe shouted to Ronan amid the loud music interference.

"But fortunately you only have one face." Ronan took a sip of iced pink wine to calm himself.

Zoe raised her hands slightly, twisted her waist sexily like a water snake, and swung her hair to one side, hitting Ronan in the face:

"Everyone in Provence doesn't know how to dance. I just don't want to dance here."

Seeing Ronan's expression of 'seeing a ghost', she stopped twisting, turned Ronan's face towards the downstairs, and whispered in his ear:
"Look, the game is about to begin."

Oh, yes, yes, competition!

My sheep!
Ronan almost forgot that this was a competition, not an open-air dance hall.

Compared with the lively crowd, the contestants were much calmer. They calmly chewed their last breakfast before the competition, while not forgetting to empty their intestines, leaving large traces of their "arrival" on the main road.

Ronan's focus is mainly on contestants 1, 7 and 11.

Contestant No. 11 is as reliable as ever. Its jockey is doing the final check to see if the rope around its neck is secure.

Contestant No. 1 was chewing on Contestant No. 2's green vest seriously, as if he thought it was hay.

And our most beautiful contestant No. 7 turned her head to the other side, looking 'maverick' and fashionable.

Its jockey had no choice but to hold the horns to help it find the right direction. However, after all this trouble, contestant No. 7's hat fell off crookedly, blocking one of its eyes, making No. 7 look more "fashionable" - just like a "bohemian" playboy.

"We have to remind it that its jockey's hat has fallen off!" More than one person noticed the abnormality of contestant No. 7.

Freddy paused in his flirting, wanting to go downstairs at the last minute to alert his jockey.

But just as he took two steps, a gust of wind swept in, overturning many of the remaining breakfast and sandwiches on the plates. Lettuce, tomatoes and bread crumbs flew up from the plates and hit the ladies' white breasts and the men's shirts.

The red tablecloths fluttered in the wind like flags.
The organizers knew that if they didn't start soon, it would probably cause more noise, so they started the competition early.

Freddy squeezed down the stairs with all his might, but all he saw was a group of children rolling in sheep manure.

"It's over, it's really over this time!" Freddy hugged his head in distress.

"Freddy, even if you had warned the jockey, it wouldn't have changed the outcome for runner No. 7."

Freddy was away from the best viewing point and missed too much information after the race started.

As soon as he came up, Louis told him the bad news:
"Number 7 ran too fast, and its jockey lost the rope at the first intersection. Without a jockey, it went in the wrong direction at the first intersection and entered an unknown road. Maybe number 7 is now grazing in front of an old house in Bonnieux."

The players disappeared from everyone's sight, and the progress of the game could only be known through the broadcast of the announcer.

The announcer told the whole village in a joking tone:
Several sheep stopped running in front of a restaurant and tried to grab food from customers' plates.

A few sheep started fighting during the race, and the running race turned into a 'fighting race'.

Several sheep showed great interest in the cameras on the roadside and were queuing up to shoot their first "sheep" movie, and among them was No. 11, who Ronan and his friends had high hopes for.

Halfway through the competition, there are only four players still competing seriously.

"It's a pity that I can't see the footage. It seems that the game process was more exciting than before the game." Ronan was completely excited and his blood was boiling.

The contestants ran around the village and returned to the starting point again.

The announcer's voice became more and more excited:
"Now runners 1, 9, 14 and 17 are running neck and neck. Who will be the first to cross the finish line?"

Ronan and his group all stood up.

Number 1?
That little fat guy is actually going to compete for the championship?
"The sheep are coming! The sheep are coming!" The children finally left the manure and made way for the contestants.

The jockeys' expressions were even more ferocious than the sheep's, as if the last one to be roasted was not a sheep, but a person.

In the end, contestant No. 1, who was not favored by Ronan and others, won the first place.

Ronan smiled and said to Zoe:

"If we don't listen to Freddy's 'science' and only refer to your answers, we can find the real champion."

Zoe's expression was not very happy, she kept looking at the end of the street:
"But number 7 hasn't shown up yet."

The game is over, but the water ball belonging to player No. 7 is still hanging there, unpunctured.

"The butcher will find it." Freddy licked his lips like a devil. "You'll see it on your plate soon."

Feng Zhen shook her head repeatedly:

"It's so cruel, so cruel."

Freddy pointed his index finger at his head:

"That sheep is not good here. It is so stupid."

Ronan also felt unhappy.

Maybe they paid too much attention to No. 7 and didn't want to see the "Playboy" fall like this.

noon.

“The lamb is so delicious.”

Everyone, including the Paris family, spoke highly of the Bonnieux’s skill in roasting lamb.

"What a shame, they didn't find the stupid sheep. They killed another one instead," Freddy shook his head regretfully.

"You are a devil." Ronan muttered in a low voice.

After the exciting game, everyone had lunch and left Bonnieux and returned to Lourmarin.

In the car, Zoe asked Ronan:

"Did you have fun today?"

"Of course!" Ronan's mind was filled with the brief few seconds of Zoe shaking her waist.

If only I could watch it a few more times.
"Louis said there have been a lot of sheep-related activities in the past few months?" Ronan asked with ill intentions.

Zoe nodded:

"There are a lot of sheep. Saint-Remy-de-Provence has the largest migration, with more than 3000 sheep being herded into the streets that day."

"When?" Ronan asked excitedly.

The largest one in Provence must be more 'lively', right?

"After a while." Zoe turned around and asked, "Do you want to go?"

"I want to!" Ronan couldn't stop smiling.

Next time there can't be any more 'group' activities, he and Zoe will go alone.

Does this mean she 'wants' to jump?
"I had a lot of fun today, too." Zoe smiled and looked out the window. "This is my first time buying a sheep."

"You won the championship on the first try. You are very talented." Ronan said with a smile.

"Intuition." Zoe pursed her lips and said, "I think there will be a story between No. 1 and No. 7."

Ronan laughed and said:
"Number 7 has a lot of stories."

After driving for a while, Ronan stopped the car on the side of the road, looked at the hillside not far away, and said to Zoe:
"You said there is a possibility. What you call 'story' is another possibility?"

There, a lamb in red clothes was eating grass leisurely. On its head, a black cap was crookedly covering one eye, making it look like a bohemian playboy.

(End of this chapter)