Teacher Wang

At Windy Café, business was still decent as noon approached. Two or three tables of people who looked like tourists were chatting and laughing as they drank coffee, ate, and took pictures.

Of course, they did not necessarily have to look like tourists. After all, the families in this village would certainly not come here for coffee and fast food. The people left in the village were either old or young; they had neither the spare money nor the taste for it. The remaining main consumers—those with education—were away studying or working as new-era migrant workers, while those without education naturally did heavy labor in the city, or somewhat skilled manual labor. They were ordinary migrant workers.

Behind the counter by the entrance, Nana was fussing with a row of spotless machines: the coffee maker, milk tea machine, juicer, and so on. Xie Xiaochun, the owner, was working the microwave beside her, heating up the prepared food sold in the shop, while occasionally keeping an eye on the children darting around inside and outside.

Children were always like that—the busier a place was, the more they wanted to be there. They liked excitement, but they inevitably caused their parents some trouble. Yet if the children were not making a fuss right in front of them, their parents would start worrying instead.

"Little Gourd, Guobao, could you all take a break for a while? Go wash your hands, then come back and sit nicely. I'll get lunch ready for you soon." Xie Xiaochun sounded a little exasperated, but she still kept herself in check and patiently negotiated with them.

Little Gourd was Xie Xiaochun's daughter, a little girl with her hair in a bun. She was around four years old, tiny as could be—right at that wonderfully mischievous age when even