Feng Chen stepped into the dumpling shop, only to be greeted by an unusual stillness.
Despite the large number of patrons filling the tables, there was an air of tension that hung over the room.
Conversations were hushed, and no waiter rushed over to greet him or take his order.
It was as though everyone was on edge, waiting for something to happen.
He took a seat at one of the tables, trying to reason that perhaps the people of Qingyun City simply preferred a quieter atmosphere. However, deep down, he doubted that was the case.
The familiar, comforting scent of freshly steamed buns and rich broth filled the air, tugging at a distant memory.
For a brief moment, Feng Chen was transported back to a simpler time—back to when his father brought him to this very place.
He smiled, savoring the nostalgic feeling as the memory of his father's laughter echoed in his mind.