Tea Talk of Hundred Demons

In the deepest night of Bianjing City, there are always people knocking at the "Wangyou Tea House" on the corner of Zhuque Street. The boss, Wen Buyan, was dressed in a green shirt, and under the white silk silk covering his eyes were red gold eyes that could see into the yin and yang. A pot of tea, three cents of rootless water, two taels of dust and snow in front of him, he turned obsessions for demons and ghosts, but he never asked whether the visitor was a human or a ghost. It wasn't until the body of the violently deceased eldest princess showed up at his door clutching blood-stained ginkgo leaves that he realized that the tragedy of the entire Wen family being turned into ghost lanterns twenty years ago had never ended, and the tea he had been brewing for half his life was just an abandoned piece on the enemy's chessboard.