"Master, master, you wait for me."

Xiaomei was almost running behind me, and I noticed that my steps were too fast.

She ran to me out of breath and asked, "Who is the person you just asked?" Why are you in such a hurry?"

Just this sentence immediately made me uneasy.

"What did you promise me from the day you started with me?"

Xiaomei was slightly stunned, and then muttered in a low voice, "I shouldn't ask, I won't ask."

"Just remember."

It's not that I don't believe in Xiaomei, but the desire to protect them in my bones has always existed.

We've been through so many disasters before that I hate that someone knows about them.

Even if it's an apprentice I brought out with my own hands, he can't touch this red line, not the slightest!

When I finally arrived at the teahouse, I looked up and felt half cold in my heart.

The noisy and lively teahouse in the past is no longer full of doors, and even the gates on the windows have not been lowered.

Although the door was open, I could clearly feel a dilapidation.

Standing at the door, I looked inside, Uncle Ya was still wearing the blue coat that had not changed for thousands of years, and his waist was sitting straight in his original position.

It's just that his already thin face is missing two taels of flesh.

Although Uncle Ya is still dressed neatly and his waist is straight, his spirit is no longer there.

Now he looks no different from an ordinary retired old man.

I only felt a sour nose, straightened my mask, and walked inside.

Before I could sit down on my ass, a familiar voice came from upstairs, "Not open."

The one who spoke upstairs was Ji Canghai.

Ji Canghai has an extra pair of crutches under his armpits, a few new scars on his face, and the only thing that hasn't changed is his eyes that are as light as a flat lake.

Of course, if he goes crazy, I'm afraid it will be even worse than before.

"Hey." Before I could speak, Uncle Ya spoke first: "The person who comes is a guest, how can you get a guest when doing business?"

Uncle Ya raised his chin slightly at me, "Come in, it's good to rest."

This was his attitude towards his neighbors before, and time has passed, and now I also enjoy the treatment of guests.

"Knock, knock......"

There was a rhythmic crashing sound between the crutches and the ground, and Ji Canghai dragged his slow body and moved down from the upstairs step by step.

I carefully counted everything around me, and there was no San'er and Xiaobai in the empty counter.

The only waiter is Ji Canghai.

"No tea, just water."

He stood in front of Uncle Ya, as if talking to me, and also like informing Uncle Ya.

I hurriedly waved my hand, "Just give me two bowls of well water."

Uncle Ya and I sat facing each other, like an old tree root, unable to speak or expressionless.

Ji Canghai went for a long time before he came back, and his crutches made him very clumsy, he held the tray in one hand and bit the edge of the tray with his mouth.

The tray shook incessantly, and when it landed in front of me, it made a deep muffled sound.

The porcelain bowl shook a few times, and the well water spilled on the table.

"Two seas." Uncle Ya's tone was obviously unhappy: "What are you doing?"

Ji Canghai had a cold face, and there was no tone in his tone: "I'm a cripple, it's good to be able to bring it over, can you not pick it?"

This cold tone is like falling into an ice cave in the past three or nine days, and Uncle Ya seems to be an enemy who does not share the sky.

Ji Canghai spent the first half of his life in sports, and now that he is tied up by crutches, he must feel uncomfortable.

I quickly stood up and played a round game: "Being able to give a bowl of water is already giving me face, thank you two."

Uncle Tooth laughed as before, "We should thank you."

"It's been almost a week, and you're the first guest of the teahouse."

His smile didn't change much, but if he looked closely, he could still see it.

Uncle Ya's left face is obviously stiff, and the corners of his mouth and eyes on the right side of his mouth are completely immobile when he laughs.

He sat in the hall, especially like a paper figure in a shadow puppet play, and his every move was stiff.

I looked around and looked at the plaque on Uncle Ya's head, "Are you a storyteller?"

"Why don't you see Mr. Storyteller?"

That's right, I just don't open which pot to mention, otherwise there is no way to know the current situation.