Lord Namjoon set down his teacup and studied the empty storefront through the dusty window. The space wasn't much—cracked plaster walls and warped floorboards—but he could see it filled with tables and voices. He wanted to build a tea house where nobles and merchants could sit beside travelers and farmers. A place where different people shared stories over warm cups. His fingers traced the brass key in his pocket. This abandoned shop could become that dream, if he had the courage to start. He needed customers first. The shop would take months to repair and furnish. Lord Namjoon pulled out a sketch he'd drawn the night before—a small wooden stand with carved panels and shelves for tea samples. He could build it himself and set it up in the town square. People could taste his blends and learn about his plan. He gathered his tools and wood from the back room. By afternoon, the stand took shape under his hands. The intricate woodwork gleamed in the fading light. Tomorrow he would take it out and meet the people who might one day fill his tea house. His dream was finally beginning.

Lord Namjoon carried his wooden stand through the morning crowd, weaving between carts and shoppers. The town square bustled with voices and movement. He found an open spot and set the stand down carefully. His hands trembled as he arranged small cups and tea samples on the shelves. A woman in worn traveling clothes stopped first. She sniffed the steam rising from a cup of jasmine blend. Her eyes widened, and she asked where he'd found such flavor. Lord Namjoon pointed across the square to a trader in colorful robes. The man had arrived yesterday with spices and tea leaves from distant ports. Lord Namjoon had spent his last coins on samples, hoping the exotic blends would draw attention. The woman nodded and moved on, but three more people approached within minutes. By midday, his small cups were empty. Lord Namjoon's throat hurt from talking, but people kept asking questions. Many wanted to know when his tea house would open. He realized he needed more than samples and dreams. He needed equipment that could serve crowds, not just a handful of curious shoppers. That afternoon, he found a blacksmith selling a large iron kettle with a sturdy tripod. The price made him wince, but he counted out the coins. This kettle could brew enough tea for dozens of people at once. Evening approached, and the square began to empty. Lord Namjoon packed his stand as shadows stretched across the cobblestones. He thought about the traders, the kettle, and all the voices that had gathered around him today. But he also thought about the people who might come after dark—travelers arriving late, workers finishing their shifts. Tomorrow he would search for a lamp to mark his spot. His tea house didn't have walls yet, but it was starting to have a heart.