There was an acrobat—a lean, dark-skinned man performing fire eating and pot balancing in an open space in the middle of the street. A circle of spectators had gathered around him, breaking into cheers and applause from time to time.
There was also an old man making clay figurines. He sat on a small stool with a pile of colorful dough clay laid out before him. His fingers were thick and stubby, yet unbelievably nimble at work. He spun a lump of dough twice, pinched it a few times, then picked and carved it with a bamboo skewer, and a lifelike little figure emerged—Door Gods, the Kitchen God, Guan Yu, the God of Wealth, Guanyin Bodhisattva. He could make anything.
Zhu Bajie squatted before the figurine stall for a long while, then pointed at a plump Maitreya Buddha figurine. "This one looks like me."
"You're fatter than Maitreya Buddha," Sun Wukong said with a glance.
"How am I that fat—"
Chu Yang took out a few coins and bought three figurines—a Monkey King, a General Pig, and one dressed like a scholar.
"A little keepsake."
Zhu Bajie accepted the General Pig figurine and turned it over in his hands several times. Then he suddenly chuckled.
"Looks quite like how I did back when I was in the Heavenly Court."
He carefully tucked the figurine into his robe, as gently as if he were cradling an egg.
They continued onward.
At the end of the night market stood a stone arch bridge. Beneath it ran a narrow river, its waters shimmering silver under the moonlight. Several stalls had been set up on the bridge as well, selling late-night snacks—fried melon seeds, candied chestnuts, and Osmanthus Sweet Rice Ball Soup.
Chu Yang bought three bowls of sweet rice ball soup from a