In Nanjing, slipping into a dream of slides and coffee aroma

At 1 AM, my phone screen still lit up with work group messages, I abruptly shut my laptop: "That's enough work for today." Dragging my suitcase, I jumped on a high-speed train and two hours later collapsed into the beanbag chair of this slide-equipped room on Hongwu Road—an adult's meltdown finally cushioned by a complimentary cup of floral tea. Upstairs kids partying? Not here. The walls must be stuffed with cotton, so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat. The butler instantly replied on WeChat: "Need earplugs? Want a refill on that iced Americano?"...Tsk, this service is more considerate than my ex. Waking to the scent of coffee in the morning, I slid barefoot down the slide onto the floor. Suddenly understood the meaning of boutique stays: hotels are shells for rushing journeys, while here—it's a whimsical corner that lets you be a child again. At checkout, the staff naturally asked: "Leaving your luggage first? Come pick it up tonight."—See, even Nanjing's breeze understands souls need to sleep in.