RBCT Chapter 25 The road is narrow, but the tea is not.
Chapter 25 The road is narrow, but the tea is not.
When Qin Xiaowan arrived at the shop, the road in front of Wu's Tea House had already been shortened.
Blue sheet metal turns in from the alley entrance, lined up against the old wall of Tea Horse Lane, the reflective strips just peeled off, the red and white colors starkly bright.
The wooden plaque that was originally visible at a glance has been cut in half by sheet metal.
Only the two characters "Wu Ji" remain hanging at the end of the narrow passage.
She stood at the entrance of the alley with her breakfast bag, not going inside.
The bag contained two flatbreads sandwiching jelly, with chili oil seeping from the corner of the paper and dripping onto the edge of her sneakers.
"Oh ho."
She switched the bag to her left hand and touched her phone with her right.
The moment the screen lit up, the impact drill started up in front of us.
hum-
The sound rolled down the blue tin roof into the alley, and a layer of dust fell from the old walls.
Wu Ling came out of the teahouse with tea leaves still on his hands.
"What are you doing standing there?"
Qin Xiaowan held up her phone, first taking a picture of the alley entrance, then of the wooden plaque that was blocked.
"Taking a funeral photo."
Wu Ling's lips moved, but he managed to squeeze out only two words.
"What?"
"When it's still visible in the photo."
After she finished speaking, she stepped into the electrical conduit.
The trough cover wasn't properly secured, and she heard a thud under her foot. A red oil stain stopped next to the gray trough cover, and she took another picture.
Wu Ling reached out to take the breakfast bag.
Qin Xiaowan didn't give it to her.
"Don't eat it yet. This chili oil drips all the way, it's more eye-catching than your shop's signboard."
Wu Ling looked in the direction she pointed.
From the alley entrance to the teahouse, the scattered red oil stains were more eye-catching than the wooden plaque.
Qin Xiaowan placed the breakfast bag on the counter.
"See? Now, people might have to rely on Guokui (a type of flatbread) navigation to find your shop."
The worker used a powder bucket to tap lines on the ground.
The white powder splattered out, slanting across the bluestone slabs, and got stuck on the outer side of the road in front of Wu's Teahouse.
A worker wearing a safety helmet folded the blueprints next to the house number.
"Wu's Teahouse?"
Wu Ling responded.
"For today, cordon off half of this area to leave a passage. Tomorrow, the utility team will come in and connect temporary water and electricity."
She pressed her phone camera to the ground, followed the pink line to the threshold of the teahouse, and then turned back to the alley entrance.
"Hey, make sure your support doesn't block the drain in front of my door."
The master nudged the loose stones next to his foot with his toe.
"No pressure."
Qin Xiaowan squatted down and exposed the edge of the drainage ditch cover.
"It's not pressing down now, but once you erect the sheet metal and tilt the support inward, it will press down. Rainwater will flood in; who will be responsible then?"
The foreman turned to the next page of the blueprints.
"Then let's move it outwards by ten centimeters."
"Where should the ten centimeters be written?"
The master was stumped by the question.
Qin Xiaowan pointed the camera at the pink line on the ground, not at his face.
"Verbal agreements don't count. Have your foreman come here and confirm this on the spot. I'll record it."
The white line ran along the drainage ditch, and the toes of the craftsman's shoes stopped at the edge, his words ending there.
The foreman came over, measured ten centimeters, and then flicked a short white line next to the pink line.
After the support legs were moved, a narrow strip of the drainage ditch cover was exposed.
Boss Zhang walked around the gap in the fence.
Wu Ling saw a printout posted at the entrance of his shop this morning.
Relocation incentives.
The four words pasted on the milk tea-colored storefront already indicate that the store is closing down.
"Boss Wu, they've been crowding around your door all day, haven't they?"
Wu Ling said, "Hmm."
Mr. Zhang was carrying two cups of milk tea.
"I'm moving next week. The landlord is pressuring me, the project developer is pressuring me, business is bad, I'm really annoyed, I can't take it anymore."
After he finished speaking, he placed the two cups of milk tea on the table at the entrance of Wu's Restaurant.
"Same as always, no sugar in either cup. Your family drinks tea, so you can't handle our sweetness."
Qin Xiaowan was taking pictures of the distance between the fence supports and the drainage ditch, without even looking up.
"It's sweet even without added sugar."
Boss Zhang chuckled.
"Then why do you drink it every time?"
"I'm afraid of wasting money."
Mr. Zhang walked into his shop, but turned back halfway there.
"Honestly, your sign is currently covered by sheet metal, so it's completely invisible from the outside. If you're going to put up a sign, make it bigger."
Qin Xiaowan then looked up.
"You finally said something useful."
At 9:30 a.m., the first group of regular customers came in.
Grandma Zhao arrived last.
She first tapped the edge of the electrical conduit with her cane, then tried twice with her toes before finally managing to squeeze through the narrow passage.
Qin Xiaowan rushed out from behind the counter, and just as she reached out her hand, Granny Zhao had already tapped her cane into the threshold.
"Don't help me up, I'm not made of paper."
Qin Xiaowan stopped.
Grandma Zhao sat down in her usual spot, took a couple of breaths, and leaned her cane against the table.
"This road is so badly built, it's practically for rats to walk on."
Wu Ling served her a three-flower dish.
She took the tea and asked, "Are we still talking at three o'clock?"
"speak."
"That's fine then."
She lifted the tea lid and blew away the floating leaves.
"The road is narrow, but the tea is not."
Qin Xiaowan wrote the first line in the ledger:
Grandma Zhao went around to enter the store, but the passage was inconvenient, so she still spent fifteen yuan.
After writing it, she crossed out the word "still" and changed it to "as usual".
Around 10 a.m., the first batch of brown sugar glutinous rice cakes came out of the oven.
At this time of day, customers who come from Xiaoyu Video will ask at the counter, "Is this the glutinous rice cake?"
There was a gap in front of the counter today.
The glutinous rice cakes were arranged on a bamboo plate, the brown sugar syrup glistening, and the aroma of ginger rising from the steam. No one reached out to touch them.
Wu Ling asked, "Make less?"
Qin Xiaowan picked up a piece and put it into the cardboard box.
"There's quite a lot, so we'll proceed with the original amount first."
"What if we can't sell them all?"
"We only find out how much we're short when we can't sell it all."
She took a picture of the bamboo plate with her phone, then took a picture of the doorway.
At 11 a.m., a young girl stood outside the construction fence, holding up her phone and turning around halfway.
The phone screen was lit up, and the navigation arrow was stopped at the entrance of Tea Horse Lane.
She tried to walk to the left, but was blocked by sheet metal; to the right, there was a pile of construction materials.
Just as Qin Xiaowan was about to shout, the sound of the impact drill came down, silencing her.
The girl tapped the screen a few times with her thumb, but the navigation arrow remained still, and she had already turned and walked away.
Qin Xiaowan chased after her from the doorway, only to see her back as she crossed the street.
Around noon, a new review appeared on the platform.
One star.
"I've arrived at the location via navigation, but I can't see the store. It's probably closed. What a wasted trip."
Qin Xiaowan pushed her phone in front of Wu Ling.
After Wu Ling finished reading, he returned the phone to her, his fingertip rubbing a streak of dust along the edge of the screen.
If one less customer comes, we can wait for the next one.
But this one star hanging there will block the way a second time for the fence on the internet.
Qin Xiaowan rummaged through the kitchen and found an old KT board and a black marker in a drawer.
The pen tip dried up, and she had to make several strokes on the paper before she could get any color.
Wu Ling stood to the side, listening to the sound of the pen tip scraping against the KT board as he wrote stroke by stroke.
Wu's Teahouse remains open as usual.
Turn right into the alley.
After she finished writing, she held the board up to the doorway to compare positions.
The construction worker walked over with a cigarette in his mouth and pointed to the support legs of the fence.
"You can't post it here, it obstructs the safety warning."
"I won't stick it on your metal sheet."
"It's no use putting up a sign; people outside can't see it. These days, hardly anyone wants to take the detour."
Qin Xiaowan flipped the KT board over and added an arrow to the back.
"You're blocking the way, can't I even call someone back?"
The master was speechless, and walked away with a cigarette in his mouth.
Wu Ling took out a roll of transparent tape from the counter.
The marker in Qin Xiaowan's hand hovered in mid-air.
What are you doing?
Add another sentence below the arrow.
He tore off the tape and pressed it down on the back of the KT board.
Following the arrow, Qin Xiaowan added four words below: "Three-point storytelling".
He wrote the characters in a hurry, and the last vertical stroke dragged to the edge of the KT board.
At 2:30 p.m., the teahouse was less than half full of customers as usual.
A few days ago at this time, customers for the 3 PM session had already occupied two rows of tables, and some people would urge the customers to order glutinous rice cakes and ask if there were still any peach shortbreads left.
But only eight people sat there today.
Qin Xiaowan spread the account book out on the counter.
There were 18 servings of brown sugar glutinous rice cakes left.
Thirty-two fewer servings of egg pancakes were made.
The tea fee is now 180.
She listed the numbers very straight.
Wu Ling stood beside the storytelling stage, changed into a traditional Chinese jacket, and felt the edge of the gavel in his pocket.
He went up on stage and placed the gavel upright.
The gavel fell softly.
Snapped.
"There are fewer people today, and the roads are narrower."
Grandma Zhao placed the tea lid on the rim of the bowl.
"If there are few people, keep it short."
"It can't be short," Wu Ling said. "The narrower the road, the clearer it needs to be explained."
The electric drill started running outside.
When Boss Zhang first sat in the storytelling hall, the sound of the electric drill made his face wrinkle.
"Why bother with storytelling earlier or later?"
Wu Ling moved the gavel half an inch to the side.
He waited until the sound subsided before speaking softly.
"Let's start with that old photograph on the counter a few days ago."
"In the early 1980s, Teacher Jiang came to Chama Lane with his teacher. There's a dark figure in the photo, very blurry, no one would recognize him without being told. Teacher Jiang said it was a coal briquette stall."
An old customer in the corner chimed in, "Coal briquette stalls, they used to be everywhere."
"That's right," Wu Ling said. "A bunch of black lumps piled up at the entrance, taking up half the road. Passersby have to squeeze past, and if their white shirt gets a little smudged, they'll get a scolding when they get back. It's even worse on rainy days; coal dust mixed with mud and water gets into the teahouse with every step, and the manager has to mop the floor three times a day."
Qin Xiaowan's pen stopped on the ledger.
"Teacher Jiang said that his teacher once stood at the door and asked, 'With the road so congested, how can you still run a teahouse?'"
Wu Ling raised his hand and made a vague motion as if lifting a teapot.
"The middle-aged man in the photo is my grandfather, Wu Houde. He didn't lecture me; he just asked, 'San Hua, or Tuocha?'"
The electric drill outside is running again.
This time, no one complained.
After the sound subsided, Wu Ling continued the conversation.
"Whether the road is narrow or not is a matter for outsiders. When a customer arrives at the door, you should first ask about tea. Once you ask about tea, he/she is no longer just someone on the road, but someone in the shop."
"That coal stall is gone now, the person who set it up moved away, and the corners of that photo are yellowed."
He pointed to the section of blue sheet metal by the door.
"There's something new at the entrance today, a blue sheet metal one, it's even more eye-catching than a coal briquette stand."
"Tomorrow they might replace it with water pipes, and the day after tomorrow they might replace it with something else. The road will change, and the things blocking the road will change too. But if the shopkeeper bolts the door first, the road won't be blocked by the fence, it will be blocked by his own hands."
"This time, the story isn't about coal stalls or construction fences."
"I'm referring to that step at the door."
He glanced at the signpost at the entrance.
"If the customer is willing to take this step, the shopkeeper must accept it."
"As for what to do after this step—"
The gavel was gently put away.
"We'll continue tomorrow at three o'clock."
The teahouse fell silent for a couple of breaths.
Boss Zhang walked to the door and pressed the brick under the directional sign down a bit.
"It's windy," he said.
Before leaving, Grandma Zhao had another bowl of Sanhua (a type of fried dough).
Thirty yuan more appeared in the account book after the storyteller finished speaking.
Qin Xiaowan circled the number "thirty" in a small circle.
When the store closes at night, only one light remains on the counter.
Qin Xiaowan spread the account book out under the lamp.
Tea costs 270, and snacks cost 320.
Total: 590.
On the day Xiaoyu Video went viral, it surpassed 2,000 views in a single day.
Since the recent limited release, the price has remained relatively stable at around 900.
Qin Xiaowan drew a line under "five hundred and ninety".
On the first day of setting up the fence, the tent was already shorter than usual.
Qin Xiaowan added a line next to it: More than 1,400 less than the peak, and more than 300 less than usual.
Wu Ling's finger stopped next to "more than 1,400".
"Isn't this calculation a bit too alarming?"
"It's not the numbers that are scary."
Qin Xiaowan put the pen cap back on.
A pink notice was slipped under the door.
The paper was thin, with dust on the edges, and above it was a notice about temporary construction in Cha Ma Lane.
Attention all businesses on the east side of Cha Ma Lane: Temporary water and electricity pipeline rerouting will begin tomorrow. All businesses are requested to cooperate with the construction team to complete the temporary water and electricity connections. Any additional connection costs incurred due to a business's failure to cooperate in a timely manner will be borne by the business itself.
As Qin Xiaowan read the last sentence, the pen cap clicked between her fingers.
Wu Ling flipped the notification sheet over to the back.
The back is blank, with no contact person and no specific fees.
Qin Xiaowan scanned the QR code with her phone, but after the page scrolled for a long time, only one sentence popped up: "Subject to on-site arrangements."
"If customers complain about the circuitous route, that's the first problem. If the plumbing and electrical work is messy, that's the second problem."
Wu Ling turned around to look at the back wall.
"I'll think of something tonight."
Qin Xiaowan looked up.
"You can try to find a way, just don't sign anything randomly."
"know."
She tucked the ledger into the back of the counter, with the pink notification slip on top of it.
"If the plumber comes tomorrow, wait for me."
"it is good."
"That's more like it."
She slung her bag over her shoulder, walked to the door, and moved the directional sign half a hand's width inward.
After the old copper bell finished ringing, the outer fence gently bumped against its legs in the night breeze.
Wu Ling closed the front door but didn't turn off the counter light.
The teahouse still smelled of the ash from drilling during the day, mixed with the smell of rubber from the dried iron sheets.
The aroma of the three-flower tea is suppressed and so faint that it is almost undetectable.
He put the gavel in his pocket and walked to the back door.
When I pressed my hand on the door panel, the outer sheet metal made a soft tapping sound.
Wu Ling pushed open the door and went in.
Xiao Cui was not in her usual spot.
The flower basket sat in the corner, with a few wilted gardenias leaning against the bamboo strips, their white petals tinged with yellow.
Old Zhou sat at the table against the wall, holding a covered bowl in his hand.
Today he was wearing an old mandarin jacket, the collar buttoned up tightly, his hair neatly combed, the gray roots of his hair pressed under the brim of his hat, not a bit messy.
The more orderly it is, the more abnormal it is.
Wu Ling walked over.
"Old Zhou."
Old Zhou scraped off the lid of the teapot.
"You don't look well."
"The entrance over there is blocked off, making it difficult for people to get in. The plumbing and electrical work will be done tomorrow."
Wu Ling sat down.
"I'd like to ask, how did teahouses manage to survive when roads were blocked or there were few customers?"
Old Zhou put the covered bowl back on the table.
The bottom of the bowl tapped on the table with a very soft sound.
"Don't ask for directions yet."
Wu Ling looked up.
Old Zhou's gaze passed over him and landed on the flower basket in the corner.
"What's wrong with Xiao Cui?"
"No one was hurt. It's that matter at the pharmacy that's brought up her."