In Huangquan, there is no distinction between day and night, only the long night. I opened a teahouse, Huangquan Teahouse, by the Naihe Bridge. I will make a cup of tea for everyone crossing the bridge, watch them cross the bridge, or listen to their stories; I will also accompany those who linger by the bridge day after day until their long-cherished wish comes to an end. Forget or remember, just because of the cup of tea in my hand, and my name is Meng Po.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
