The night and the lights seemed to compose the small town of Xitang into an ancient poem. From time to time, groups of tourists, full of admiration for the awakening March blossoms, would appear on the bluestone streets, yet no one seemed willing to pay attention to our inn named "Guesthouse."

I didn't want to wait passively any longer, so I took my guitar from my room and began to sing under the willow tree opposite the guesthouse.

After I finished a song, some tourists gathered around me, asking if I was a wandering singer. When I told them I was the owner of the guesthouse across the street, half of the crowd dispersed immediately.

In the end, only a couple of students remained, and after I promised them a 30% discount, they agreed to patronize our guesthouse.

Even so, I felt pretty good about it; after all, it was a gain.

After returning the guitar to the guesthouse, I went to A Feng's bar called "Waiting for You in Xitang," ordered some beer as usual, and chatted with him about that "perfect travel plan."

By the time we had hammered out some details, it was already 11 p.m., but I didn't want to go back to the guesthouse, so I ordered two more bottles of beer.

A Feng consoled me, "Don't worry too much about the guesthouse. I believe that after this plan is implemented, business will pick up."@@novelbin@@

I nodded, raised my beer bottle, and clinked it with A Feng's, and we continued to chat idly, eventually talking about the woman who often wore red clothes.

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