It was a gloomy day. Before the storm rolled in, the air was suffocatingly still and lifeless.
The meal hour hadn't arrived yet, and Zhao Chun was absent.
On the table lay tea and snacks. Tian Sangsang picked up a piece of osmanthus cake, nibbling at it bit by bit. As she ate, she thought, a habitual practice. Her mind slowly churned, though she couldn't quite discern the taste of the cake—chewing merely mechanically, over and over.
With Kunling gone, there was barely anyone left to tend the shop. Previously, she'd manage it for a while herself, but now, as her pregnancy advanced, standing for long stretches left her back aching. There were plenty of customers; once she stood, she rarely had a chance to sit back down.
Sometimes Zhao Chun would help out whenever he had free time, though he wasn't often idle.
So she needed to hire someone.
