Amidst the endless yellow sand, a figure clad in a black robe crossed the dunes; he seemed to be a traveler in the desert, always with his head down, without a word.
He passed by the stalls of vendors, brushed past other travelers, and stepped into a tavern in the corner of the market.
The tavern's walls were made of red bricks, with rattan chairs and yellow wooden round tables arranged in rows. The fences were adorned with a few fake flowers, and the walls displayed plenty of ginkgo leaf decorations.
Su Ming'an sat by the window and ordered a cup of coffee.
"Not drinking alcohol? Seeing you as a traveler in the desert, why not warm up with a glass of strong liquor?" the tavern waiter advised.
"No." Su Ming'an looked up, the brim of his black robe pressing down a thin layer of black gauze that could cover his entire face: "Coffee is fine, thank you."
Five minutes later, two cups of coffee were served.
