It has been three years since Su Mo came to this small town in the south of the Yangtze River. Ever since he came here on a trip, he felt inexplicably familiar with every plant and tree here, so he opened an inn here regardless of his family's objections. He still remembers that when he left home dragging his luggage, his mother kept sighing and wiping her red eyes: "Momo wants to go, Mom won't stop you, come back when you can't hold on anymore, this family can't miss you." Unexpectedly, I have been staying here for three years, guarding the inn every day, keeping it casual and comfortable according to my own wishes, watching the guests come and go in a leisurely manner, and chatting with those who meet me, not too distant, not too close. Most of the time, Su Mo listened quietly. After all, no matter how many stories there are, there are not many left after three years of accumulation. And the travelers also like this young, quiet and elegant landlady. They order a cup of coffee or a pot of tea at the bar. After greetings, towards Su Mo, a little girl with warm eyebrows, he unconsciously feels the desire to talk. Su Mo listens there quietly. He kept interjecting a few words occasionally, not many words, but every word made people like him. Occasionally, he smiled, like a lotus blooming in surprise. Su Mo was not a very beautiful woman, but she was attractive, with delicate features. At first glance, she seemed to be thrown into the crowd and couldn't be found, but upon closer inspection, she became more and more amazing. Every time after leaving, she would inadvertently think of such an inn called Xiaoyu Liuguang.