Shilong Lane.
The heavy snow did little to make this bustling lane feel deserted; people were coming and going, rubbing shoulders.
At the deepest point, the Three Flavors Blacksmith Shop.
The moment Chengming saw Fan Wubing, his spirits lifted. He had been in this lane for three hundred years, unable to leave, rooted to the spot, entangled in various emotions. Once a person takes root and stops moving, their vitality quickly hides away, allowing a stagnant aura to emerge, accumulating over time, leading to inevitable depression and aging.
So, when Chengming saw the vibrant and dynamic young Fan Wubing, he felt an elation greater than eating a big bowl of beef noodles.
He lit up his usually dim room brightly.
The burning charcoal in the back room made the entire shop warm and cozy.
He prepared some food, uncertain of Fan Wubing's drinking capacity, so he only poured two cups, thinking it would be sufficient with some dishes.
