By the quiet banks of Huaihai Lake stood a wooden structure, exuding an ancient charm—a private bookstore,
Inside, many people were reading books, enveloped in a quiet, elegant, and leisurely atmosphere. No matter who you were, once you sat at those refined rosewood tables and chairs, embracing a book, you felt a newfound sense of nobility.
The bookstore not only offered books, but also coffee drinks and food.
A middle-aged man wearing glasses sat by the window reading, able to see the bustling crowd through the bright window.
A hardcover novel lay in front of him, with a steaming cup of coffee to his right, and a bandage wrapped around his wrist.
His face was upright with well-defined features, and his bluish stubble lent him a mature and stable appearance.
He was dressed in a clean Versace suit, with hair slicked back, looking like a white-collar worker who spent years in an office.
