CHAPTER 386: CHAPTER 376: AND THE WORK IS VERY TIRING

Li City’s air was very good.

Surrounded by green mountains on all sides, streams wound through the alleys.

At the corner guesthouse, two large red lanterns hung at the entrance. On the right, one read "Twenty-eight Nights Before It’s Late," and on the left, "See Thrice-Thirty-Three with the Morning’s Crow," and dangling on the edge of the door frame was a small, delicate wind chime that occasionally emitted a clear sound as it was brushed by the gentle breeze.

He Fang reclined under the eaves next to it, half-lying on a wooden rocking chair, with a thin book resting on her belly, slowly rocking with a creaking sound, looking up at the wind chime.

After living in Li City for three days, she was nearly voraciously indulging in this moment’s comfort, pushing everything else to the back of her mind.

The more beautiful life is, the more one is bound to feel a touch of weariness over time, hence it’s important to relax occasionally, allowing a change of heart—whether in work or life, you need to be flexible, to tighten and loosen appropriately.

The guesthouse was small, a duplex structure, divided into upper and lower floors, not very large. Apart from the lobby, the first floor only included a kitchen, storage room, and the owner’s quarters.

The lobby was divided into three areas: the dining section, an activity area, and a small reading corner separated by wooden rails—just a wooden bookshelf with a few small tables beside it, complete with paper and pens; the shelf didn’t hold biographies of famous people or literary novels, but rather stories left by past travelers. Some stories were handwritten by themselves, while others, after being narrated to the proprietor and considered worthy, were written down with permission, becoming a collection of stories, each volume unique, each a stretch of life.

This owner had some really good ideas.

Qin Guanglin thought so.

Most folks who ran guesthouses in Li City were talkative, and this owner was no exception. Hospitable and knowledgeable, he could talk about any topic all day long.

He said that it was a summer more than a decade ago when he couldn’t sleep one night after returning from touring Li City, with an idea persistently hovering in his mind. After several days of wrestling with it, he took all his possessions, returned to Li City, took over this small guesthouse, and henceforth became its proprietor.

"How free-spirited!" Qin Guanglin couldn’t help but give a thumbs up.

"Hey, I was young back then."

The guesthouse owner just laughed, stringing shells in his hands. Whether speaking or silent, his hands never stopped. After finishing, he would hang them up, and they became delicate wind chimes.

Seeing Qin Guanglin turn back to swap out a book from the shelf, he asked, "Have you left any stories here?"

The forty-something proprietor spoke softly, as if he had never raised his voice—his gentle and refined manner made Qin Guanglin somewhat envious.

Running a guesthouse like this with a wife and children must be quite nice.

Unfortunately, it was only a thought; such a life wasn’t for him.

"Stories... I don’t really have stories," Qin Guanglin shook his head, "I’ve spent half my life in Luo City, how could I have any tales to tell?

I draw every day... well, as I mentioned before, I’m a comic artist; my days are filled with drawing, grocery shopping with my wife, cooking, and watching the kids." He turned to gesture towards He Fang by the entrance, smiling and saying, "Coming out is just to catch a bit of local color, to find some inspiration."

Compared to the life stories on the shelf, his life indeed seemed to be the most mundane of all, hardly a story to speak of.

"I’ve seen your comics, they’re pretty great."

"Thanks, is there a story of yours in here?... I’m quite curious," Qin Guanglin asked.

"Mine?" The owner seemed to chuckle, saying with a laugh, "I’m pretty much like you, just ordinary daily trifles... Occasionally, I jot down something about an interesting traveler. Over there, on the far left, the middle one is it."

"Hmm, I’ll take a look when I have time."

After chatting for a while, Qin Guanglin didn’t disturb him anymore, and went out to find He Fang. The afternoon in August was a bit hot, but it was cooler here, and taking a nap under the eaves was quite nice.

"How do you feel? There’s Sakura Avenue nearby, when do you want to go take a stroll?"

"Let’s wait for the afternoon, when the sun sets," He Fang said lazily, squinting at the book he was holding and reaching out to take it, then stuffing the one that had been resting on her lower abdomen into his hands, completing the exchange.

Qin Guanglin made no comment on her actions, just looked at the distant sky and took a deep breath. The environment here was really nice, living here was so much better than in Luo City.

"This inn has quite a style, if you want, we could buy one ourselves, and live leisurely just like they do," he suggested.

"You think you could serve people every day?" He Fang glanced at him.

"That’s true, serving you and our daughter every day is enough for me."

Qin Guanglin looked at the owner in the lobby and really couldn’t imagine doing such work, especially considering the over one year he’d spent taking care of He Fang and their daughter when she was pregnant, that had been exhausting enough.

"Only this place looks decent, but I’ve heard that many other innkeepers put on a good front. When they meet girls traveling alone, they get cozy with them, and after getting to know them they ask, ’Would you like to stay and be my innkeeper’s wife?’"

He Fang looked up at the ceiling and swayed on the lounge chair, "Then after they tire of the game, they break up and wait for the next girl to fall into the trap."

"How do you know?" Qin Guanglin was surprised and looked at the inns on the street, finding it hard to picture.

"My roommate was deceived just like that while traveling here, she served someone for free..."

Starting over wasn’t a cure-all, she had always been giving Chen Yan warnings, even sent her numerous examples, but that girl really thought she’d found true love and once she fell, she couldn’t pull herself out.

People who are stubborn to a fault can’t even be saved by immortals.

"Hehe, the title of innkeeper’s wife does have its allure. If I were a woman, I might really be tempted by such a proprietor..."

Qin Guanglin gazed into the lobby with a click of the tongue, if the owner’s wife and daughter weren’t there, who knows how many they would have charmed.

"So, you like men now?" He Fang frowned.

"...I mean hypothetically, if I were a woman."

"Even hypothetically, that’s disgusting."

"Alright, alright, no more ’if’s," Qin Guanglin played with her lips with his finger, "Want something to drink or eat?"

"No need, I’m going back to my room for a nap. You can rest here."

He Fang stretched and stood up, her thirty-something-year-old body having shed its greenness, now like a ripe peach, carrying the poise of a mature woman.

This was her true form... Although she was youthful and pretty when she was young, that subtle sense of maturity always seemed a bit out of place.

"Why not sit together?" Qin Guanglin couldn’t help but invite.

"Why not go up and nap together?" He Fang turned to ask.

"...Forget it, I’m quite comfortable resting here."

Qin Guanglin lay down on the rocking chair with a melancholic air, feeling nostalgic for the younger version of himself.

So many wonderful memories...

In the past, he was energetic enough for three times in two days, now he’s exhausted after two in three days; time really spares no one.

Under the eaves, a breeze blew.

The wind chimes tinkled, blending with the sound of cicadas, creating a tranquil afternoon of leisure.