The peaceful days were always short-lived.
Dawn broke, and the noise gradually swelled.
After a busy night, Fu Qian stretched behind the counter and surveyed the business he had painstakingly built.
Shangjing truly was a top-tier metropolis. Its citizens' drive to improve themselves was admirable.
Even at this hour, three or five customers were still among the books, eagerly soaking up the fruits of culture.
Creak—
A spirited young man who looked like a student even came in through the door.
"Sorry, everyone. This shop is closed."
Unfortunately, he was met with a different kind of cultural influence—the kind known as corporate culture.
Leaning back in his seat, Fu Qian was clearly addressing more than just the young customer. His gaze swept over all the men and women, and he let out a lazy shout.
Most people who still browsed bookstores in the morning clearly couldn't resist this sort of corporate culture. After exchanging a few alarmed glances, they all answered the call and filed out.
"Sorry, could I confirm your closing time? It's seven thirteen in the morning."
But not everyone was so cooperative. Students who hadn't yet been subjected to the evils of society, for example.
The bespectacled young man stood frozen in the doorway for nearly twenty seconds, watching the customers get driven out. At last, he summoned his courage and, instead of backing down, stepped inside.
"It's hard to imagine this is a normal time for a shop to close, so I can't help suspecting you were targeting me just now."
He even sounded perfectly reasonable.
"If that's the case, I won't leave until I get what I came for."
Targeting him?
Fu Qian looked up at the gutsy young man. Beneath lenses thick as bottle caps, his eyes were still resolute, despite the dark circles