The Yangtze River Delta region has been experiencing a significant temperature drop recently. Although it's said to be a land south of the Yangtze River, with four distinct seasons, these seasons aren't necessarily all that wonderful.

It can't compare to the comfort of Chengdu, the Land of Abundance, with its warm winters and cool summers, nor to the ease of eating popsicles indoors with the heating on in the northern regions.

Large-scale heating systems have effectively stopped here and haven't been popularized, making the damp cold of winter even more unbearable.

The temperature might not seem like much, but the real cold needs to be experienced firsthand.

The old Daoist was shivering as he walked down the street.

In his life, he had traveled far and wide, visiting countless places and weathering many storms. But his body wouldn't let him deny that he was getting old.

So he gradually came to prefer milder climates.

He once stayed in Guangzhou and Foshan for a long time but couldn't stand the humid heat.

He had also stopped in this Jiangnan water town but still couldn't bring himself to love it.

He had even planned to stay in Chengdu forever.

But the good times didn't last.

A little over a year ago, the sudden change, probably a couple of days before New Year's Eve, turned Chengdu's flourishing scene into a bubble.

But the old Daoist was an optimist and a content man. Besides, no matter where he went, there were always hair salon sisters waiting for him on the roadside.

"Don't worry about having no kindred spirits on the road ahead, for who in the world does not know you?"

In the old Daoist's case, this saying had a different interpretation.

A gust of cold wind blew by.

The old Daoist shrank his neck again.

But then he stopped.

A small shop sign ahead caught his eye.

It was a photo studio, very small and cramped.

Most people associate Shanghai with skyscrapers, bustling traffic, and shocking real estate prices.

But in reality,

no matter how big a city is, it will have both its glamorous side and its down-to-earth aspects.

For example, this small street is not far from the towering buildings of the prosperous area, but it still seems much more humble and cramped.

Some people live a glamorous life in this city, while many more bend their backs and survive humbly.

The old Daoist didn't feel sorry for his former boss's current situation.

He knew that the former boss seemed to like this kind of setting.

Back in Chengdu, didn't he also find such an old neighborhood to open his spirit goods store?

Unlike his current boss,

when it came to money...

Heh...

If his current boss ran out of money, he'd ask people to burn spirit money for him.

But if the former boss ran out of money, he'd point out a location and tell him to dig out a box of gold bricks.

The photo studio's business was naturally slow,

as slow as a bookstore's.

The equipment inside was also old,

but it was neatly arranged.

When the old Daoist walked in,

a cat's meow startled him.

He looked up

and saw a white cat lying on a shelf.

Its fur was so white,

it was like silk satin.

But its eyes were a bit lazy.

"Hey, Pu'er, do you still remember this Daoist?"

The old Daoist pointed at himself.

The white cat stretched out its paw

and waved it perfunctorily.

It meant, *I know, now get lost.*

The old Daoist didn't mind. He knew this cat's personality well; it was always very aloof.

He thought about reaching out to pet it,

but decided against it.

He walked in a little further and saw a man sitting in the back room.

The man was wearing a black down jacket and sitting on a chair, drawing with a paintbrush.

He was painting a scene of a small bridge, flowing water, and a humble home.

It wasn't a grand scene,

but it was full of everyday life.

Looking at this figure,

the old Daoist felt a little emotional.

But since it was a reunion with an old friend, he couldn't be all tears and sadness; he had to smile and be joyful. The old Daoist wasn't some greenhorn in his twenties or thirties. He had seen a lot of partings in his life.

"Boss, I'm here."

"Sit."

The man continued to paint.

The old Daoist sat down next to him and asked,

"Boss, are your eyes better?"

After the man finished the last two strokes,

he put down the brush

and turned around

to reach for his thermos.

The old Daoist was shocked.

He saw that the man's eyes were tightly closed. He wasn't wearing sunglasses or bandages.

He just never opened his eyes.

Before,

he had also been painting with his eyes closed.

"Boss, your eyes still haven't..."

"With my eyes closed, I can see even more clearly."

The man didn't mind and seemed very open-minded. He didn't feel resentful about going blind.

He stood up,

picked up the small stool he had been sitting on,

and said,

"Let's sit outside; it's cold in here."

The old Daoist immediately stood up as well.

Then,

the two of them sat together at the door,

each on a small stool,

and started to bask in the sun.

The old Daoist couldn't stand this feeling.

Although he was an old man in his seventies,

he didn't really like peace and quiet.

It seemed that both of his bosses

had a deep obsession with sunbathing.

"Boss, why did you think of opening a photo studio?"

These days,

small photo studios rarely get business except when people occasionally need to take passport photos. The hardware and software of photo studios are not something that small street photo studios can compare with.

"The lighting's good here."

"........" said the old Daoist.

That's right.

That reason was very much like his boss.

He figured that if this place used to be a small massage parlor or a small hair salon, as long as the lighting was good enough, the boss would have taken it over.

Anyway,

he wasn't expecting to make any real money from opening a shop.

The old Daoist didn't say why he had come to Shanghai.

The man didn't ask.

The two of them just sat there,

basking in the sun for half the afternoon.

At this time,

Tang Shi walked over from the end of the street.

She was dressed very plainly, in a red down jacket, jeans, and a scarf.

She really looked like a domestic woman.

She didn't look as fashionable and beautiful as when he first met her in Chengdu.

She was carrying groceries in her hand.

The old Daoist glanced at them.

Uh,

a big bag of Master Kong's Pickled Vegetable and Beef Noodles, the ones with Wang Han on the cover.

The corners of the old Daoist's mouth twitched.

But the man next to him said,

"Let's eat together."

"Okay."

The noodles were cooked quickly.

The old Daoist was too embarrassed to praise Tang Shi for being virtuous,

since she was just cooking instant noodles,

and he was also afraid of getting beaten.

Since there were three people,

they brought out the pot.

Three bowls,

three pairs of chopsticks,

and a serving spoon.

It was that simple.

The old Daoist took a bowl,

took a few bites,

and thought about praising it as "delicious,"

but decided against it.

For the old Daoist, it was really uncomfortable not to find a chance to flatter them, but he couldn't always make his flattery sound sarcastic, could he?

But,

indeed,

this table of "food"

really couldn't compare to the bookstore's food.

Xu Qinglang at the bookstore prepared three meals a day very well and changed up the dishes. The tastes of everyone at the bookstore were quickly spoiled.

"Not used to this flavor?"

The man asked.

"No, no."

"Then we'll change the flavor tomorrow," the man said to Tang Shi.

"Okay, let's switch to Master Kong."

"Okay, good."

"........" said the old Daoist.

Looking at the two people next to him,

picking up the noodles

and swallowing them with extremely pained expressions,

the old Daoist sighed.

He reached into his pocket,

took out three small bottles,

placed them on the table,

and said,

"Boss, Tang, drink a little of this before eating, and you'll be able to eat it."

The two drank it.

Sure enough,

the pot of instant noodles was quickly eaten.

The old Daoist looked at the sky

and got up to say goodbye.

It was getting late.

He had to go back.

After all, he still needed to watch over his current boss.

The man saw him to the door.

"Boss, is this still the address? After I get back, I'll send you some more."

There was no shortage of the Bi An Hua oral solution at the bookstore now.

The man nodded

and smiled.

"Then I'll go first. Boss, take care."

The old Daoist left,

his back looking a little lonely.

The man reached out

and gently stroked Pu'er, who was still lying on the shelf.

"Meow."

Pu'er meowed

and continued to lie there.

"What did the old Daoist come here for?"

Tang Shi, who was cleaning up the dishes, asked.

"He didn't say, so I didn't ask."

"Oh."

Tang Shi nodded and continued,

"He probably had something to do."

"Yeah."

"Should we go see?"

"If there's something wrong, he'll say so. If he doesn't say anything, then it's not a big deal. I'm a little tired today, I want to rest early."

"Okay, I'll wash the dishes and then take a shower. We'll go upstairs to rest together."

The man nodded.

Pu'er obediently jumped down

and walked up the stairs

with a noble demeanor.

The sky darkened.

Night fell,

bringing a touch of tranquility

to this bustling city,

like a painting.

............

After walking out,

the old Daoist suddenly felt an urgent need to pee,

probably from drinking too much noodle soup.

The sewage pipes were aging,

so they were prone to some old problems:

fast flow, frequent flow, and unending flow.

The old Daoist looked for a long time

but couldn't find a public restroom.

It wasn't that the old Daoist was deliberately being uncivilized.

He was an old man, after all,

and the urge to pee had come so suddenly and resolutely.

He really couldn't help it.

While lamenting that the magic city didn't have enough public restrooms, he found a small alley

and directly unbuckled his belt.

At first, it was like large and small pearls falling on a jade plate.

Then, there was a lingering, dripping sound.

Finally,

he successfully "retreated."

The old Daoist smacked his lips

and yawned.

Just then, a car drove by,

rudely turning on its high beams,

illuminating the alley brightly for a moment.

The old Daoist lowered his head

and saw that there was a statue of the Earth God where he had just marked his territory.

Holy crap!

The old Daoist was a Daoist himself. Even if he wasn't very devout, even ordinary people who didn't believe in religion wouldn't dare to pee on a statue, right?

Believing or not believing in religion was one thing,

but most people wouldn't dare to be so disrespectful, especially such a blasphemous act.

The old Daoist took a few steps back,

knelt down respectfully,

took all the cigarettes out of his pocket,

placed them in front of the Earth God,

and then kowtowed,

shouting,

"Earth God, Earth God, this kid didn't do it on purpose. I definitely didn't mean to pee all over you.

Please forgive this kid,

and give me a way out,

give me a way out,

give me,

a way out..."