Chapter 5
生意会好起来的
Business Will Pick Up
上午九点。苏茉拉开卷帘门——金属轨道吱地一声，比平时响。巷子里还没有别的声音，她回头看了一眼。
围挡拆了。
她站在门口，看着街对面。
茶本主义。四个字，每个有一米宽，LED 白光，白天也亮着。招牌下面挂了一排小灯串，像圣诞树——六月的圣诞树。门口贴着横幅：「开业期间，全场买一送一」。荧光绿的，字是白色的，很远就能看见。
LED 招牌发着一种极轻的嗡嗡声——电流过变压器的声音。二十三度天，那个声音不该出现在这条街上。
队伍排到了街角。
苏茉数了一下——二十三个人。最前面的人手里拿着手机在拍招牌。队伍中间有人在放短视频，笑声从屏幕里漏出来。没有人说话。
她回到吧台后面。
九点半。一个穿荧光绿制服的人走过来。
年轻男孩，脸上带着「我今天要完成KPI」的笑。他往未名门口塞了一张传单。
苏茉捡起来。
正面写着：「茶本主义——重新定义茶饮」。背面是价格表。抹茶拿铁，大杯，十二块。第二杯零元。最下面一行小字印着区域经理的名字——Lisa。
她的滇红，一壶，十五块。
她把传单折了一下，放进围裙口袋。胸口某个地方，像针尖一样，很轻地扎了一下。
今天只有两个客人。
上午十点零七分来了一个——戴蓝牙耳机的年轻男人，点了最便宜的绿茶，喝到一半接了个电话，走了。杯子剩了三分之一。
街上很吵。对面茶本主义的收银机每隔一两分钟就嘀一声——扫码支付的提示音，隔着玻璃门都能听见。然后是咖啡机的蒸汽嘶嘶声，一排灯箱的电流嗡鸣，荧光绿制服的店员在喊「买一送一」。这些声音本来不属于这条街。
下午一点二十来了一个——穿校服的高中女生，坐了十五分钟，没点东西，最后起身的时候问：「有WiFi密码吗？」
苏茉说没有。
女生走了。门关上之后，茶馆里又安静了。
老教授没来。其他常客也没来。
四点之前，她擦了第三遍杯子。玻璃杯在灯光下很亮，亮到能照出她自己的脸——但她没有看。
角落里的咖啡机一直没开。因为没有人点咖啡。
下午三点半。手机响了。
屏幕上写着：「Lisa」。
她接了。
「苏茉！」Lisa 的声音比记忆里大了一倍，像有人在电话那头开了扬声器。「我听说你在我们对面开了一家茶馆？天哪，我昨天路过还不知道是你——你那个招牌也太低调了。」
苏茉说：「嗯。」
「你来我们这边吧，」Lisa 没有停顿。「茶饮研发，薪资翻倍。你那些古法茶方——在我们这里就是产品线。你以前调的那款桂花乌龙，我到现在还记得。我们这边有设备、有供应链、有流量——你来，我给你单独开一个系列。」
苏茉看着吧台上的滇红保温壶。
「我想想。」
「别想了，明天来面试。我跟总部说好了，特批。」
挂了。
电话忙音响了三声。苏茉把手机放在吧台上，屏幕朝下。
四点四十五。
门推开了。铜铃响。
老太太走进来。灰色外套，布底鞋，手里拎着一个布袋子——和以前一样。
她站在门口，没有直接去窗边的位子。
她看了看空荡荡的茶馆——六张桌子，只有一张用过的。她看了一眼街对面——队伍还在，LED 招牌还在闪。然后她才看苏茉。
街上那么吵，对面那么亮。老太太已经看了一眼队伍——但她来了。
她走过去，坐下来。
「最便宜的茶。」
和以前一样。苏茉去泡茶。
端过来的时候，老太太看了一眼对面。她没有说话。
喝完。放下杯子。手指在杯沿上停了一瞬。
「还在。」
苏茉没有立刻说话。她站在老太太对面，手里还端着托盘。那两个字需要她消化一下。
「什么还在？」
老太太站起来。拎上布袋子。走到门口的时候，脚步停了一步。
然后又走了。
铜铃响。
晚上八点。苏茉一个人坐在店里。
街对面也关了。LED 招牌暗下来之后，街上安静了许多。对面那嗡嗡的电流声也没有了。
她把账本打开。
今天营业额：六十七块。
她算出这个数字的时候，手指停了一下。然后继续算——房租、水电、茶叶进货、设备折旧。
这个数字她以前算过。在开业之前，在决定租这个店面之前，在她把咖啡机从家里搬过来之前。
她知道它会低。但她没有想到会这么低。
她看着账本上的红色数字。加盟？
她把账本合上。站起来。走到吧台后面。
给自己泡了一杯滇红。
泡的时候，手指碰到了保温壶的壶壁——温的。水倒进杯子里，发出一声很轻的响。
她想：明天四点四十五，茶还是要泡到最好的时候。
第5章 · 完
Nine in the morning. Su Mo pulled up the rolling shutter door — the metal track squeaked, louder than usual. No other sounds in the alley yet. She looked back.
The construction netting was gone.
She stood at the doorway, looking across the street.
茶本主义 — Tea First. Four characters, each one meter wide. LED white light, on even during the day. A row of tiny string lights underneath, like a Christmas tree — a Christmas tree in June. A banner across the door: "Grand Opening — Buy One Get One Free." White letters on a neon green background, visible from far away.
The LED sign emitted a faint hum — the sound of current passing through a transformer. Twenty-three degrees out, and that sound did not belong on this street.
The line stretched to the corner.
Su Mo counted — twenty-three people. The one at the front was taking a photo of the sign with his phone. Someone in the middle of the line was watching a short video, laughter leaking from the screen. Nobody was talking.
She went back behind the counter.
Nine-thirty. A young man in a neon green uniform walked over.
A young guy, his face wearing the kind of smile that said "I have a KPI to hit today." He shoved a flyer into the tea house doorway.
Su Mo picked it up.
The front read: "茶本主义 — Tea First: Redefining Tea." The back was a price list. Matcha latte, large cup, twelve yuan. Second cup free. At the very bottom, in small print, the name of the regional manager — Lisa.
Her dianhong, one pot, fifteen yuan.
She folded the flyer once and slipped it into her apron pocket. Somewhere in her chest, like the tip of a needle, a very light prick.
Today, only two customers.
At 10:07 a.m. — a young man with Bluetooth earbuds. He ordered the cheapest green tea, answered a call halfway through, and left. The cup still had a third of the tea in it.
The street was loud. Across the road, the cash register at 茶本主义 — Tea First beeped every minute or two — the scan-to-pay sound, audible even through the glass door. Then the hiss of the coffee machine's steam, the electrical hum of a row of light boxes, the neon-green-uniformed staff shouting "Buy One Get One Free." These sounds had not belonged on this street before.
At 1:20 p.m. — a high school girl in a uniform. She sat for fifteen minutes, did not order anything. When she stood up, she asked: "Do you have a WiFi password?"
Su Mo said no.
The girl left. After the door closed, the tea house was quiet again.
The professor did not come. None of the regulars came.
Before four, she wiped the cups a third time. The glass cups were bright under the lights — bright enough to reflect her own face. But she did not look.
The coffee machine in the corner had not been turned on. Because nobody had ordered coffee.
Three-thirty in the afternoon. Her phone rang.
The screen read: "Lisa."
She answered.
"Su Mo!" Lisa's voice was twice as loud as she remembered, like someone had put the phone on speaker. "I heard you opened a tea house across from us? God, I walked past yesterday and did not even know it was you — your sign is way too subtle."
Su Mo said, "Yes."
"Come over to our side," Lisa did not pause. "Tea beverage R&D, double the salary. Those traditional tea recipes of yours — here they would be a product line. That osmanthus oolong you blended, I still remember it. We have equipment, supply chain, traffic — you come, I will give you your own series."
Su Mo looked at the pot of dianhong on the warming tray.
"I will think about it."
"Do not think, come interview tomorrow. I already talked to headquarters, special approval."
She hung up.
The busy signal beeped three times. Su Mo set the phone on the counter, screen facing down.
Four forty-five.
The door pushed open. The copper bell rang.
The old woman walked in. Gray jacket, cloth-soled shoes, carrying a cloth bag — the same as before.
She stood at the door. She did not go straight to the seat by the window.
She looked at the empty tea house — six tables, only one that had been used. She glanced across the street — the line was still there, the LED sign still flashing. Then she looked at Su Mo.
The street was that loud, the other side was that bright. The old woman had already seen the line — but she came.
She walked over. Sat down.
"The cheapest tea."
The same as before. Su Mo went to brew the tea.
When she brought it over, the old woman glanced across the street. She did not say anything.
Finished the tea. Set the cup down. Her finger paused on the rim for one instant.
"Still here."
Su Mo did not speak right away. She stood across from the old woman, still holding the tray. Those two words needed a moment to settle.
"What is still here?"
The old woman stood up. Picked up the cloth bag. Her footsteps paused for one step at the door.
Then she kept walking.
The copper bell rang.
Eight at night. Su Mo sat alone in the tea house.
Across the street had closed too. After the LED sign went dark, the street was much quieter. That electrical hum was gone.
She opened the accounts book.
Today's revenue: sixty-seven yuan.
When she calculated this number, her fingers paused for a moment. Then she continued — rent, utilities, tea leaf purchases, equipment depreciation.
She had calculated this number before. Before opening, before deciding to lease this storefront, before moving the coffee machine from her apartment.
She knew it would be low. But she did not know it would be this low.
She looked at the red numbers in the accounts book. Join them?
She closed the book. Stood up. Went behind the counter.
Brewed herself a cup of dianhong.
While brewing, her fingers touched the wall of the pot on the warming tray — warm. The water poured into the cup, a very light sound.
She thought: tomorrow at four forty-five, the tea still needs to be at its best.
To be continued
Next chapter: "Tea Is Something Beyond Water"