At this hour, Cultivators were already trickling through the Bamboo Forest at the Mountain Foot, making their way to the shop. Some went inside to browse, while others simply gave a few curious glances at the newly replaced, oddly painted front door and the young shopkeeper lounging by the entrance in a sleeveless shirt, shorts, and sunglasses. The shop was gradually coming to life, low conversation blending with the chime of the wind bells.
Before long, Qiao Bin had finished getting ready. He picked up a small folding stool and tiptoed over to the Sun Chair, then sat down with both hands on his knees and his back ramrod straight, like a schoolboy waiting to be reprimanded.
Silence fell between them for a moment. Only the faint voices in the distance and the rustle of wind through bamboo leaves could be heard.
Suddenly, Yang Ning seemed to remember something. Still gazing at the blue sky, softened by the tint of his sunglasses, he spoke out of nowhere. "Qiao Bin, if I remember the date correctly... your birthday's coming up, isn't it?"
Qiao Bin froze for a moment, then tilted his head and thought it over. "Ah... I think so. My birthday is August 14th, so there's about a month to go. It's the day before the Mid-Autumn Festival. That's the most important festival in our sect during the second half of the year. By this time in previous years, I'd already be arranging all the hall's holiday preparations. Once I got busy, I'd often forget my own birthday."
"What about this year?" Yang Ning turned his head slightly, his sunglasses facing Qiao Bin. "Anything special you want for your birthday? Tell me."
"Hey!" Qiao Bin hurriedly waved his hands, that bashful smile returning to his face. "No, no need, Brother