Ye Xi ultimately chose a sky-blue pinwheel. It was not large, its blades thin as cicada wings, with a few specks of silver powder adorning the edges, glittering like stars in the light.
Holding it in his hand, the joy on his little face nearly overflowed.
Song Zhiyi paid, then lowered his head to look at those sparkling eyes. The corners of his lips curved up without him realizing it.
"Xi'er," he said gently, "shall we sit over there for a while? We've walked so long that I'm a little tired."
Ye Xi lifted his head, concern immediately appearing on his little face. "All right, let's go sit down."
He gripped Song Zhiyi's hand in return and hurried forward on his short little legs. Song Zhiyi was tugged along by him, and the two passed through the crowd, brushing shoulders with a man coming from the opposite direction.
The man wore a dull gray cloth robe, its washed-out cuffs slightly rolled up to reveal half of his thin wrists. His features were bland and utterly ordinary, the sort of person who would vanish forever once thrown into a crowd.
His gaze casually swept the area before finally settling on the pinwheel stall. "Boss, how much are these pinwheels?"
The stall owner smilingly quoted a price.
The man clicked his tongue, frowning as impatience suddenly entered his voice. "A few scraps of paper cost this much?"
The stall owner's smile stiffened for a moment, but she quickly forced it back and patiently explained, "Fellow Daoist, you jest. These pinwheels may look simple, but their frames are carved from Spirit Bamboo, and the patterns on the blades were engraved bit by bit by my husband. Both the materials and craftsmanship are carefully chosen. This price truly isn't high."
Yet the man would