Yanhe Road, a street paved with bluestone, was completely hidden under the green leaves of its roadside trees. It was not considered a scenic spot, but every local in Ming City knew this place.
New developments, villas by Ming Lake—none of these meant as much to the locals as a single courtyard here.
It wasn't a matter of price, scenery, or convenience. Owning property here meant you were a "true master" of Ming City, a real old Ming City resident. Everyone else counted as an outsider.
Regional discrimination exists everywhere.
Qing Lan Bookstore was just an ordinary bookstore on Yanhe Road.
A wooden door, a glass wall, as clear as crystal during the day and enveloped in a warmly comforting yellow light by night.
The wind seemed lighter as it passed through here.
The bookstore's owner was a fairy, the epitome of Ming City beauty in the eyes of the older generation, and the best proof that Ming City residents were superior to all others.
