Transcending Boundaries: Journey to the Infinite

Untitled Part 21

The Fool

Lao Tan's Tea House

At around six or seven in the evening, Lao Tan's Tea House was at its busiest. The not-so-spacious first-floor dining area was crammed with a dozen or so tables, and each one was filled with small groups of people, chatting and eating.

"Excuse me, thank you. Here's your beef brisket clay pot rice."

A man in his fifties, dressed in a white waiter's uniform, weaved through the narrow gaps between the tightly packed tables, carrying trays of food, clearing dishes, and moving with a sense of urgency that left no room for a break.

In the small kitchen at the back of the tea house, a chef and a helper were also hard at work, frying and preparing dishes without a moment to spare.

The old-fashioned air conditioner hummed loudly, blowing cool air that struggled to combat the intense heat inside the bustling restaurant.

Ding-a-ling—

The glass door of the tea house swung open, and a short-haired man with a large backpack stepped inside.

He took a quick look around at the busy scene inside the tea house and walked directly to an uncleaned, vacant table. He casually tossed his backpack onto the seat and sat down with a calm expression.

The older waiter, who had just served a table, walked over to the short-haired man. He glanced at the man's simple, somewhat shabby attire and, without much thought, pushed aside the dirty dishes on the table and wiped it down roughly with a rag.

Taking out a notepad and a pen, he asked with a hint of impatience, "What do you want to order? There's a minimum spend of 40 HKD here."

The short-haired man picked up the rag that had been tossed on the table and carefully wiped it clean. Without lifting his head, he said, "Tell Jiang Pengyun that someone from Foshan is here to see him."

"You are—"

The older waiter, who had been somewhat inattentive, was taken aback by these words. His expression changed instantly as he put down his notepad and looked the man up and down, seemingly unsure.

"You're not mistaken."

The short-haired man finished wiping the table, then slowly raised his head.

"I see."

The waiter, in his fifties, said nothing more. He turned around and headed toward the counter to make a phone call.

"Wait—"

Before the waiter could leave, the short-haired man pointed to the menu on the wall. "Three orders of your signature beef brisket rice."

Half an hour later.

The once busy and noisy tea house was now empty. The kitchen was closed, and the "Closed" sign hung on the glass door.

Only the wrinkled old waiter stood silently behind the counter, watching as the short-haired man at the only occupied table ate his beef brisket rice at a leisurely pace.

Creak—

Outside the tea house, the screech of a car braking sharply broke the silence.

Moments later, the glass door opened again. An elderly man in traditional Chinese attire, who had previously been drinking tea on the third floor of the tea house, entered with two tall young men in suits.

Clatter—

As soon as they entered, the old waiter hurried to the entrance, pulled down the metal shutter outside the glass door, closed it, and then returned to his place behind the counter.