The broom moved across the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dust. My hand holding the bamboo pole was steady, but my eyes had long drifted to the other side of the street.
That milk tea shop is doing good business today.
I counted, it was the seventh guest. Shen Wanqing stood behind the bar wearing a light blue apron, her long hair tied into a ponytail, and handed out a glass of something with a smile. I could smell the sweet smell from across the road.
Actually, I didn't come to Qingxi Town to work as a security guard just to smell the milk tea.
After that bloody battle three years ago, I quit. The name of Lord Longyuan sounds scary, but that thing can't buy you a sense of security - every night when you close your eyes, you will see the enemy exploding into a bloody mist in front of you, along with the last pale face of your deceased wife. I'm done.
The town is nice. The town is clean.
