The only tavern in the village was there only for appearances. According to the guard, no visitors came. Perhaps one during the entire year. Bai Han, the owner of the tavern, lived there, so that was the reason the place was still open.
Despite the lack of patrons, Bai Han took pride in maintaining the tavern's facade. The worn sign hanging above the entrance still displayed the name "The Merry Traveler," even though the cheer and laughter of travelers had long faded away.
Inside, the dimly lit room echoed with the creaking of old wooden chairs and the occasional crackling of the fireplace, creating an eerie atmosphere that seemed frozen in time. Despite the solitude, Bai Han seemed to have found solace in the familiar routine of tending the bar, polishing glasses that were seldom used, and arranging the empty tables as if awaiting a bustling crowd.
The guard who led us there yelled, "Bai Han, two customers for you."
