In the first year of Jingkang, the city of Bianjing was destroyed. Wen Xiaoman, the last owner of Mantingfang Restaurant, fell into the Bian River holding the ancestral food list written by his father.
When she opened her eyes again, she was in Xiguan, Guangzhou nine hundred years later, in the attic of her old house on a rainy night - the box was still there, the copper abacus was still there, and the peaceful world was still there, but no one recognized her anymore.
The Shen Tuo she bumped into was the fourth generation descendant of this old house. He was also a chain restaurant worker who was deceived by his grandfather into "helping him for three months" and came back to take over the mess. The time-honored "Sui Feng Building", which had suffered losses for three consecutive years, only had a transfer agreement to be signed in his hand; he came back overnight to take pictures of the ancestral house, which he planned to list and take pictures of tomorrow morning.
She wants to survive, he wants to sell the store and leave.
So, a female shopkeeper from the Song Dynasty who "played by the rules", a modern catering person who only believed in reports, went from catching thieves in the attic to identifying relatives at the police station, from signing a piece of deed to being under the same roof, from checking accounts to dawn, from drinking a bowl of sugar water to a secret that had been kept for nine hundred years -
She calls takeaways "passing feet", live broadcasts "goulan busking", milk tea "sugar water medicine", and drinks three cups of noodles in a row without changing her color;
While he assessed that "the risk of this girl's unknown origin is extremely high," he unknowingly removed the transfer information that had just been posted.
She has seen the world where her family and country disappeared overnight, so she knows better than anyone else: the so-called sweetness is just being able to open a shop in peacetime, and the person who always quarrels with her leaves a light for her every night.
This book is about slow-paced daily life, with no villains, no bloody stories, and no slaps in the face. It writes about crafts, neighbors, account books, and three meals a day, as well as how two people, nine hundred years apart, used the word "living" to mean the same thing.
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