A leisurely life starting in a bar after being reborn

Fu Yan was awakened by the sunlight.

The bedroom in the courtyard house faced south, and the curtains weren't fully drawn, allowing the February sunlight to filter through and fall directly on his face. It felt warm and cozy, like a cat's paw rubbing against his skin.

He turned over and glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table—7:15.

It was 15 minutes earlier than the alarm clock.

In the past, Fu Yan would have turned over and continued sleeping. But today was different—he slept in a new bed all night, the bedding was warm, and the heating was strong, making him feel like he was soaking in warm water. When he woke up, he felt refreshed and not sleepy at all.

Let's get up then.

Fu Yan put on his sportswear, put on a windbreaker, pushed open the courtyard gate, and went out onto Yandaixie Street.

The mornings at Houhai are very quiet.

There were few people on Yinding Bridge. A thin layer of ice covered the lake, and a few gray ducks squatted on the ice, their necks tucked in. In the distance, the Drum Tower was shrouded in morning mist, its outline blurred, like a faded old photograph.

Fu Yan jogged along the lakeside, breathing in the dry, cold air. His lungs stung, but he felt better after running for a while—that chilling clarity was like a shot of Erguotou liquor, burning from his throat to his stomach, making him feel completely refreshed.

He ran around the lake, a distance of about three kilometers, in about twenty minutes. On his way back to the courtyard house, he bought breakfast at a well-established shop at the entrance of the alley—fermented mung bean juice with fried dough rings and pickled vegetable shreds, plus a bowl of fried liver.

Douzhi (fermented mung bean juice) is something that people from Beijing absolutely adore, but outsiders find the smell nauseating. Fu Yan almost spat it out the first time he tried it, but after four years of undergraduate studies, he actually got used to it—that sour, rancid taste, combined with the crispness of the fried dough rings and the refreshing flavor of the pickled vegetables, actually has an inexplicable charm. Back in school, some classmates teased him, saying he had masochistic tendencies, insisting on drinking something so awful, calling it pure idiocy.

After breakfast, I went back to the yard, took a shower, and changed my clothes—a dark gray sweater, black casual pants, and a navy blue coat.

I left home at 9:25.

The bar is located on the north bank of Houhai Lake. It's just a ten-minute walk from Yandai Xiejie, across Yinding Bridge.

Fu Yan stood at the entrance of the bar and looked up at the sign.

The two characters "Homecoming" are carved from solid wood, painted in dark brown, and embedded in the gray brick wall. They are understated but have a sense of quality. A warm yellow wall lamp is installed at the entrance, and a small wooden sign hangs next to it, which reads "Business Hours 18:00-02:00".

It wasn't open for business yet, but the door wasn't locked.

Fu Yan pushed open the door, then stopped in his tracks.

It's changed.

It's completely changed.

The last time he came, this was a bare shell—cement floors, exposed pipes, and dust everywhere. Now…

The bar counter is made of solid wood, a dark walnut color, with an arched design, and its length occupies two-thirds of the entire wall. Behind the bar counter is a full-wall wine rack, stretching from floor to ceiling, with densely packed shelves. Each shelf is equipped with warm-colored spotlights, and the light shining on the wine bottles makes it look like an amber-colored wall.

The floor is paved with dark gray antique-style tiles, which have a slightly rough texture when you walk on them. There is a row of booths by the window, with dark brown leather sofas and wooden coffee tables. Each booth is separated by an iron screen, providing privacy without being enclosed.

The central seating area had a dozen or so round tables, with dark wood chairs and dark red velvet cushions. In the corner was a small stage with an upright piano and a drum set. The stage backdrop was covered with dark blue sound-absorbing panels with the words "Homecoming" inlaid in metal lettering.

Several industrial-style chandeliers hung from the ceiling, with exposed iron pipes and warm yellow Edison bulbs that emitted a soft, non-glaring light.

The overall color scheme of the space is dark brown, dark gray, and dark red, which is calm but not dull, understated but not shabby. It's clear that careful thought was put into it—not the kind of nouveau riche piling on of things, but rather the kind of taste that someone with expertise has carefully cultivated.

"Hello, boss!"

Fu Yan was startled and turned around to look—

Behind the bar stood a young man in a black vest, clean-cut with neatly combed hair, wiping glasses. Beside him were two other boys also in black vests, and three girls in dark blue aprons—presumably waitresses.

Including the young man who was adjusting the sound system in the corner, there were a total of seven employees in the bar, all of them young. When they saw Fu Yan come in, they all stopped what they were doing and looked over.

"Who are you...?" Fu Yan asked.

"I'm the bartender, my name is Xiao Zhou, Zhou Lei," the young man wiping the glasses introduced with a smile. "Manager Qiu told us that the boss's surname is Fu, and he's a tall guy, 1.85 meters. It must be you!"

"Manager Qiu has a good eye," Fu Yan said with a smile.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than footsteps echoed on the stairs.

Qiu Kai got off first, followed by Lin Xiaochen.

Qiu Kai was wearing a dark gray suit today, his hair neatly combed, a stark contrast to his disheveled appearance in a jacket the last time we met. He walked up to Fu Yan and gave a slight bow: "Mr. Fu, you've arrived."

"Don't call me President Fu, just call me Fu Yan." Fu Yan waved his hand, then looked at Lin Xiaochen, "You haven't changed a bit."

Lin Xiaochen was wearing her usual black business suit, her hair tied in a low ponytail, and her face was bare, without even lipstick. She nodded: "Welcome back, boss."

Simple, efficient, as always.

Qiu Kai clapped his hands and gathered all the employees in front of the bar.

"Come on, let me introduce you all—this is our boss, Mr. Fu Yan. From now on, when he comes to the bar, just call him Brother Fu, don't call him 'boss,' he doesn't like it."

Fu Yan looked at the seven or eight young faces in front of him, men and women, aged between twenty and twenty-five, all of whom were reserved and nervous like new employees.

"Hello everyone." Fu Yan's voice wasn't loud, but the bar's acoustics were excellent, so every word was clearly audible. "My name is Fu Yan, and I'm the owner of this bar, as well as your colleague. Manager Qiu is in charge of the bar's daily operations; you can contact him if you need anything. I'm not one to meddle, and I don't come here often—when I do, I'm just drinking; I won't be watching you work."

Everyone laughed, and the atmosphere lightened up a bit.

"There's only one requirement—do your job well, serve the customers well, and don't slack off. Gui Chu is a quiet bar, not a nightclub. The customers here come for peace and quality. The drinks must be good, the ambiance must be good, and the service must be good. If you do these things, you'll be well-paid."

After Fu Yan finished speaking, he looked at Qiu Kai, who nodded to indicate that he had received the message.

"Alright, you guys get back to work." Fu Yan waved to everyone, then said to Qiu Kai and Lin Xiaochen, "Let's go upstairs and take a look."

……

The second floor consists of office space and storage rooms.

Qiu Kai's office was on the left side of the stairwell. It wasn't big, but it had everything he needed—a desk, filing cabinets, a computer, and a small refrigerator. A whiteboard hung on the wall, covered with work schedules, purchase lists, and training plans.

To the right is the storage room, where beverages, ingredients, and consumables are neatly categorized and stacked on shelves with labels affixed to them. It's clearly Qiu Kai's handiwork—this guy has OCD, and everything has to be put back in its proper place.

There's also a small room at the very back, which Qiu Kai said is a spare and can be converted into a band lounge or VIP room in the future.

Fu Yan looked around and nodded: "Not bad, better than I expected."

"Su Qing and I oversaw the renovation for over two months, coming here at least once a day," Qiu Kai said. "Some parts were modified three or four times, and the lighting was adjusted no less than ten times, all to find that right feeling."

"Thanks for your hard work."

"Of course." Qiu Kai paused for a moment. "By the way, Fu Yan, there's a problem with the beverages—I've stocked up on a batch of domestic and Japanese/Korean spirits, and also some imported spirits, but the supply of high-end whiskey and cognac is a bit unstable, and the prices are quite high. Do you have any thoughts?"

Fu Yan smiled and said, "I've already contacted some friends abroad to ship me a batch of liquor. Single malt whisky, a small batch of bourbon, several types of French cognac, and a few cases of Japanese sake and plum wine. It should arrive in about a week."

Qiu Kai's eyes lit up: "Your friend abroad? Through what channels?"

"It's directly from the distilleries in Scotland and Kentucky, not from distributors."

"Directly from the distillery?!" Qiu Kai nearly jumped up. "How much would that cost?"

"Don't ask about the price, just tell me it's within my budget."

Qiu Kai shut up, but he couldn't hide the excitement on his face—who in the bar business wouldn't want to get their hands on first-hand liquor? This stuff is impossible to buy on the market. With this batch, the quality of liquor in the Houhai area would be unparalleled.