Lin Hengyu is unemployed and lives with his four-year-old daughter Xiaotang in a handshake building in a village in the city that rents for 800 yuan a month. Even the Sancai cup for making tea is covered with dust. Landlord Zhao Fugen blocked the door three times and called him a "waste daddy." Only the orange cat Wulong raised by his daughter knew that this down-and-out man could understand every cat call and bird song - the pigeon at the alley told him that Granny Zhou's bankbook fell into the waste paper pile; the stray dog led him to find the stolen battery car. Lin Hengyu didn't dare to use animal intelligence for profit, but he pried open the hearts of his neighbors with his Chaoshan Kung Fu Tea. He helped people tidy up and "regulate their health" along the way: polishing the dusty tea trays, straightening the crooked photo frames, and letting the light shine through the dark rental house. Every time he cleans a room, he always finds old banknotes, valuable stamps, or forgotten thank-you notes. Just when he had saved up enough rent and was about to move out with his daughter, Oolong picked up a bloody cat paw print - local gangster Ma Chengkun was eyeing the last lonely old man in the urban village. Lin Hengyu clenched the tea knife. He knew that this time he not only had to deal with things, but also with this rotten human heart.
