The second day, Zhou Dao took the morning off and came to the Seventy-three book society.
As always, porter Grandpa Qin was welcoming.
The kind-eyed elderly man enjoyed his leisure and tranquility in his old age, and dealing with books every day was his most delightful and joyful task.
Especially seeing those young lives coming to his bookstore, so vibrant and alive, brought him even more joy.
"Young man, the old man here does have what you're looking for, intricate mysteries of life, illustrated and beautifully presented, detailed depictions by masters, it's just the price..."
As soon as Zhou Dao entered, he saw Uncle Qin bargaining with a young man.
Seeing more and more people in the bookstore, the young man no longer argued about the price, stuffing all the silver in his hands into Uncle Qin's hands, picking up the thickly wrapped book, stuffing it into his bosom, and darting out of the bookstore with his head down.