At 1:30 in the afternoon, Shen Yuan arrived at Nantong Road early.
Her heels still hurt.
The pain was very present.
With every step, a thin, sharp ache crept upward.
Shen Yuan glanced down at her shoes and silently sentenced them in her mind.
When she had money.
The first thing she’d do—buy a pair of shoes that didn’t rub.
She didn’t ask for anything expensive.
Just something that would treat her like a human being.
“Shiguang Coffee” sat at the street corner. The storefront wasn’t large, with a soft cream-white sign and a hand-drawn cat on the glass door, hugging a coffee cup as it dozed off.
Inside, the lighting was a warm yellow.
Wooden tables and chairs were arranged neatly, and the air carried the scent of coffee and the sweetness of toasted bread.
Shen Yuan stood at the door and took a whiff.
Good.
This smell was worth money.
She pushed the door open.
The doorbell chimed with a “ding.”
Behind the counter, a woman with delicate makeup and a low ponytail looked up.
She appeared to be around thirty, wearing a white shirt and a black apron. Her movements were brisk, and so was her gaze.
“Shen Yuan?”
“That’s me.”
Shen Yuan nodded immediately.
The woman gave her a once-over.
It wasn’t an uncomfortable look.
More like a shop owner assessing: can this person be useful?
“I’m Linda, the store manager.”
She picked up the resume beside her and flipped through a couple of pages.
“I’ve looked at your resume. You don’t have much relevant experience.”
Shen Yuan was very honest.
“No, I don’t.”
Linda raised an eyebrow.
She probably hadn’t expected Shen Yuan to admit it so readily.
Usually, people coming for a trial shift, even without experience, would say something like “I learn fast” or “I can handle hard work.”
Not Shen Yuan.
Four words, almost too candid.
But her next sentence came quickly.
“But I have a decent memory, and I’m not slow with my hands. You can let me try first. If I’m not a good fit, I won’t waste the shop’s time.”
Linda tapped her fingers on the resume.
The scrutiny in her eyes didn’t fade, but her tone softened a little.
“We’re only part-time here, but the standards aren’t low. Three days of trial, a hundred per day. If you pass, we’ll discuss the regular schedule. Can you accept that?”
“Yes.”
Shen Yuan answered fast.
Never mind a hundred a day.
As long as it wasn’t illegal or morally wrong, even if she had to stand at the door and play a coffee bean mascot, she’d consider it for three seconds.
Linda glanced at the faded little bag by her feet, then at her slightly pale face, but didn’t ask further.
She was a shop owner who had seen countless part-timers come and go.
Some were earning pocket money.
Some were experiencing life.
And some genuinely needed the money.
Shen Yuan was clearly the last kind.
Beside the counter, a young girl was turning freshly washed cups upside down onto the cup rack.
She wasn’t tall, with a round face and bright eyes. Her name tag read two characters: Zhou Ning.
Zhou Ning noticed Shen Yuan and gave her a warm smile.
“New trial shift? I’m Zhou Ning. I usually work more afternoon shifts.”
Her voice was soft, her words quick, and her hands never stopped moving.
“The shop can get pretty hectic when it’s busy, but Sister Linda only scolds about the work, not the person. Don’t be scared.”
Linda didn’t look up.
“Zhou Ning.”
Zhou Ning immediately shut her mouth and arranged the cups more neatly.
Shen Yuan held back a smile.
She nodded at Zhou Ning.
“Hi, I’m Shen Yuan.”
“Go to the back and grab an apron.”
Linda pointed to the small door beside the counter.
“First, tidy up the storeroom. Sort the supplies, flatten the cardboard boxes, and log anything near its expiry date separately. Don’t slack off.”
“Okay.”
Shen Yuan took the apron.
It was a deep coffee-brown, washed clean, with two small characters embroidered on it: “Shi Guang” (“Time Gleanings”).
After changing into it, she tied her hair back tightly, revealing a plain, fresh face.
No heavy makeup.
No flashy jewelry.
Just bright eyes—weariness couldn’t dim that spark.
Zhou Ning handed her a pair of gloves and pointed toward the back door.
“The storeroom’s over there. Be careful—the stack of boxes at the very back isn’t stable.”
Shen Yuan took the gloves.
“Thanks.”
The storeroom was right by the back door.
The moment Shen Yuan pushed the door open, she fell silent.
Great.
This wasn’t a storeroom.
This was a cardboard-box team-building event.
Milk cartons, coffee bean bags, syrup bottles, and disposable cup lids were scattered in a chaotic heap.
There was spilled coffee powder on the floor, a dark, grimy patch.
The air smelled of damp cardboard and milk.
Shen Yuan stood there for three seconds, giving herself a mental pep talk.
Not dirty.
Not dirty at all.
In her past life, as a screenwriter’s assistant, she’d organized a temporary props room for a film crew.
That was the real hell on earth.
Wigs and instant-noodle cups flew together; rain boots slept alongside wrap-party flowers.
Compared to that place, this was a five-star storage center.
Shen Yuan put on her gloves and mask, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work.
She first dragged out all the empty boxes, broke them down, and flattened them.
Then she sorted the milk by brand and date.
Syrups went in one row.
Coffee beans in another.
Cup lids, straws, and takeout bags were each organized into clear storage bins.
She also found half a bag of matcha powder from who-knows-when under a cabinet, sniffed it, and her expression froze.
Great.
This scent had evolved from matcha to “don’t come near me.”
She set the matcha powder directly in the pending-disposal area.
Two hours later.
When Linda pushed the door open, her footsteps paused noticeably.
The storeroom had changed.
The boxes that had piled up like a small mountain were gone.
Temporary labels had been stuck on the shelves.
Near-expiry items had been marked with sticky notes showing the dates, placed separately in the most visible spot.
Even the coffee powder on the floor had been mopped clean.
Zhou Ning peeked half her head in from behind Linda.
After taking in the storeroom, her eyes went wide.
“Wow.”
Linda turned to look at her.
Zhou Ning immediately swallowed the rest of her words.
Linda’s picky gaze finally softened a bit.
“Have you done this before?”
Shen Yuan took off her mask, a thin layer of sweat on her forehead.
She smiled.
“Never worked at a coffee shop. But I’ve cleaned up messier places.”
Linda glanced at her.
Didn’t press further.
“Alright.”
Linda closed the door.
“Come out. Time to learn the espresso machine.”
Shen Yuan followed her to the counter.
The counter was spotless.
The silver espresso machine gleamed under the lights, radiating a cold, mechanical feel.
Shen Yuan stared at it with a serious expression.
Linda laughed.
“Don’t be nervous. It won’t explode.”
Shen Yuan said earnestly, “I’m afraid it’ll look down on me.”
Zhou Ning burst out laughing.
Linda couldn’t help it either, the corner of her mouth twitching.
“It won’t look down on you—I will. Don’t let your hands shake. First, learn to grind the beans.”
Shen Yuan straightened up immediately.
“Yes, Teacher Linda.”
Linda: “…”
This new girl looked soft and delicate, but she sure knew how to ride a wave.
As soon as afternoon tea time hit, the shop filled with customers.
The doorbell rang every few minutes.
Office workers, students, and staff from nearby office buildings trickled in, filling half the shop in twos and threes.
Shen Yuan stood behind the counter, learning extraction, milk frothing, and latte art from Linda.
Zhou Ning handled orders and food delivery.
She was quick and sweet-tongued, and with regulars, she’d casually ask, “Still less ice today?”
Shen Yuan absorbed the details as she learned.
The first milk foam she made was coarse and lumpy.
Linda’s face was expressionless.
“This isn’t milk foam—it’s a tsunami scene.”
Shen Yuan glanced down and accepted the criticism humbly.
“I’ll practice again.”
She wasn’t afraid of being scolded.
What she feared was no one willing to teach.
Linda’s critiques were sharp, but her instruction was meticulous.
“Lower the steam wand angle.”
“Listen to the sound, don’t just watch.”
“Don’t shake the pitcher; relax your wrist.”
Shen Yuan noted each point in her mind.
She had a strange kind of focus in her work.
Neither restless nor careless.
Even when wiping cups, she’d check the rims to make sure there were no water stains.
Linda didn’t praise her.
But for the next practice round of milk foam, Linda didn’t have Zhou Ning demonstrate—she handed the pitcher back to Shen Yuan.
“Try again.”
Shen Yuan took it.
“Okay.”
Just then, a sharp female voice cut through from near the window.
“Waiter!”