Tingshan District had an excellent geographical location, just as its name suggested—lush, verdant Tingshan Mountain nestled within it. At the same time, the winding Beijing-Hangzhou Grand Canal flowed through, with mountains at its back and water at its front. Even in feng shui terms, it was considered a blessed land.
Coupled with the absence of industrial pollution, the picturesque Tingshan District had become another urban area in Jiang City, besides the East District, where tourism was the main industry!
Of course, the East District couldn't compare to Tingshan District, because the East District's entertainment industry was more developed. Amidst the dazzling lights and bustling nightlife, the scenery of the East District always gave off a restless, superficial feeling.
Tingshan District, on the other hand, was much better. Ten years ago, Jiang City built the first university town in the south around Jiang City Media University, a renowned national media institution, right in Tingshan District.
A rich cultural atmosphere blended with beautiful natural scenery, making it a perfect fit for Yang Yi, a guy who oozed literary pretentiousness.
Renting a car, Yang Yi spent two days touring Tingshan District and eventually set his sights on a shop near the back gate of Jiang City Media University that was about to be transferred.
This shop was actually a bit remote and somewhat desolate.
Because the truly bustling areas of Jiang City Media University were the areas outside the main gate and the east gate.
The main gate, being adjacent to Jiang City Normal University, gathered the crowds of both schools, so its prosperity was easy to understand. The east gate area was near the dormitory zones of Jiang Media, so the food and beverage industry there was quite developed.
The back gate, however, was a bit far from the dormitory areas. Apart from some students from the art and media colleges who came for classes, few students were interested in visiting.
Outside the back gate was the Beijing-Hangzhou Grand Canal.
But it wasn't the rippling West River or the gently flowing Ting Stream. Facing the calm waters of the Grand Canal, with its embankments lacking willow trees and grassy banks, students generally found it unappealing—except for some male and female students who liked to find quiet spots for dates.
However, Yang Yi was drawn to it precisely because of its quietness and remoteness.
Why would he need such bustle? Yang Yi didn't like the idea of opening a coffee shop that would keep him too busy to handle.
The ideal scenario would be about ten customers a day, a few regulars, elegantly and quietly sipping coffee, or freely chatting about literature and music.
...
"You're the owner of this shop?" Yang Yi asked in surprise when he met the person leasing it on the second floor.
Before him stood an elderly man with a full head of silver hair but a vigorous spirit. He wore a traditional Chinese-style blue robe, and every move he made exuded a sense of refined wisdom.
This immediately filled Yang Yi with respect, and his tone became noticeably more deferential as he spoke.
"Young friend, why do you ask that?" the old man said with a gentle smile. "Are you thinking I shouldn't be tainted by the smell of money?"
Yang Yi's face flushed with embarrassment; the old man had hit the mark—that was exactly what he had been thinking.
"Haha, this place was actually a residence gifted to me by the school. Over the years, my wife just used it to run a small bookstore," the old man said, his expression dimming slightly as he mentioned his wife. He gently stroked the mellow, polished wooden stair railing, as if reminiscing about something.
When it came to the skill of coaxing information out of people, Yang Yi, with his special training from his past life, was a master. Before long, he had coaxed the old man into telling the story in his heart.
It was a story about love.
The old man's name was Hu Songnan. He had been a professor at the Classical Music Academy of Jiang City Media University. His wife had previously been an editor at a publishing house in the capital. Later, to reunite with her husband in Jiang City, she quit her job and opened a small bookstore.
The two were a harmonious couple, supporting each other for decades, living a peaceful and happy life.
Until eight years ago, when the old lady fell ill and passed away, leaving this small building with only Old Man Hu Songnan alone.
It wasn't that his children were unfilial. Hu Songnan's children had all gone to Hong Kong to develop their careers and had always wanted to take the old man with them. But the old man couldn't bear to leave, because every brick, every tile, every corner of this small building was filled with memories of his wife.
Now that the old man had retired, and with the pleas of his grandchildren, he had also decided to go there to enjoy his old age.
"But what I can't let go of the most is this place," Hu Songnan said, his eyes regaining their sharpness as he gently patted the stair railing. "I want to find someone who can take good care of it."
The old man didn't want anyone to ruin this place, to ruin this small building. If he had time in the future, he hoped to come back and visit, at least to keep a memento.
However, this gave Yang Yi a bit of a headache.
Obviously, meeting the old man's requirements wouldn't be easy. The old man hadn't even laid out a clear set of standards.
Whether it worked or not was entirely up to his judgment!
To be honest, Yang Yi really wished he could meet someone more mercenary. At least problems that could be solved with money weren't really problems!
Still, Yang Yi wanted to give it a try, because this small bluestone building, both in appearance and its surrounding environment, really had an artistic vibe, and he liked it a lot.
Yang Yi was silent for a moment, then honestly laid out his thoughts: "If I rent your house, I'll use the second floor to live in, and the first floor I want to open a coffee shop. You can leave your bookshelves as they are..."
In Yang Yi's description, the bookshelves the old man had left behind would be rearranged by Yang Yi to create a coffee shop full of the scent of books.
The old man looked at Yang Yi with interest and said with a slight smile, "Opening a coffee shop here? That's not a great idea. You might lose money!"
But Yang Yi didn't care. "Losing money or not doesn't matter. This has always been my dream. Besides, it's better to be quiet. In my spare time, I can write and listen to music."
He didn't think much of it, but the old man's expression turned strange.
The vibe was off!
Here was Yang Yi, a burly man with bulging muscles, strong and valiant, and influenced by the soul imprint of his previous self, his movements still unconsciously carried the shadow of a soldier!
And this guy was saying he liked listening to music and dabbling in literature? Anyone would find that awkward!
But the old man didn't question it, because Yang Yi's calm demeanor made him sense something different.
"May I ask, what name are you planning to give your coffee shop?" the old man asked curiously.
Yang Yi's earlier description had actually piqued Hu Songnan's interest. Among the people who had come to him in the past few months, Yang Yi was the closest to what he had in mind.
Yang Yi had already thought it through. He answered succinctly, "The Coffee Shop at the Street Corner."
The old man thought he had misheard and had Yang Yi repeat it. After confirming that "The Coffee Shop at the Street Corner" was indeed the name Yang Yi had in mind, he frowned and thought for a long time.
"Sorry, I can't think of which classic this name comes from. Would you mind telling me, young friend?" the old man asked humbly.
If you could figure it out, that would be a miracle!
"It's from a song I wrote," Yang Yi said shamelessly. Plagiarizing songs from his past life, without any legal awareness, he felt no guilt.
"Oh, really?" the old man said with great interest. "What's the song called?"
The old man was a music teacher, a retired professor of classical music, but he wasn't uninterested in pop music. When it came to music, his enthusiasm flared up.
Yang Yi didn't answer directly. Instead, he looked at the wall, where a somewhat vintage guitar was hanging, and asked, "May I borrow your guitar? I'll sing it for you."
(What song is this? Does anyone know?)