In the Lap of Luxury by Unsweetened Chestnuts

The man had a strong grip on her hand, and his nose and mouth were covered with a wet towel. He handed one to Grace as they quickly made their way out. There was another passage inside the teahouse where the flames were less intense, allowing the two to pass through.

The fire crackled as it consumed the wood. It was a truly heart-stopping experience.

Grace held onto the wet towel on her face, feeling some relief in her lungs.

"Boss! What are you doing here?"

Other people were also escaping through that passage and were surprised to see the man.

The man scolded them in a hoarse voice, "Hurry and leave!"

There was the sound of hurried footsteps.

Grace hurried down the stairs, keeping an eye on the man's dark silhouette. He was tall and well-built and seemed to be middle-aged.

His voice sounded so familiar, as if she had heard it somewhere before.

She didn't have time to think more about it. All she could think about at that moment was finding a way out of there.

As she descended the last step on the third floor of the teahouse, Grace felt a tremendous sense of relief. She dropped the wet towel and gasped for air.

at the back door, which all the staff had used to escape. Everyone was

a pity. It had just been built, and

gestured toward the man. The person immediately

finally recovered enough to speak. "Thank you

mysterious. Their corners were upturned,

wet towel over his nose and mouth,

to see you while I was escaping. I couldn't stand by and

voice was indeed

them calling you "boss". Are you the owner of this teahouse?" "The manager." He glanced at the

place

probably because it's winter and dry.

The subordinate fell silent.

had drawn the attention of

manager, whose hard work had just been reduced to nothing

but he was also remarkably calm, showing an exemplary

share your contact information so that I may have a chance to repay you?" The manager continued to avoid her gaze. "As

"I insist."

bit anxious. She grabbed his sleeve and pressed