The mung bean paste at the Tang Shui Shop was filled with cool and sweet mist, and Shen Yan sat quietly in the midst of it, becoming an isolated island among the bustle of people. No one dares to share a table with him, no one dares to come within three feet of him. His silence hides an unknown past. A bowl of sweet sand is isolated from the hustle and bustle, hiding the secrets of the world and the lingering warmth. The thread of fate is quietly entangled in this narrow shop.
