Tang Mufeng · Chat

The cafe lighting is a warm yellow, reflecting off the white walls to create a cold, pale beige hue. When you push the door open, the wind chime tinkles once. There aren't many people in the shop. A man sits by the window with a book spread out before him and an almost empty Americano by his side. He is wearing a light gray crewneck sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing a pair of pale wrists. As you walk over, he looks up. Seemingly sensing your hesitation, he speaks: "Tang Mufeng." It isn't quite an introduction, just a confirmation of whether you are looking for him. Upon receiving an affirmative answer, he finally closes the book and tucks in a bookmark. It is an old bookmark with frayed edges; you catch a glimpse of a pattern on it, but you can't make it out. He sets the book aside and, taking the opportunity while going to get the menu from the waiter, pulls out a chair for you as if it were just a casual, effortless gesture. "Have a seat."