"Come one, come all! Don't miss out!"
"Top-quality Hetian jade! Absolutely genuine, honest prices for young and old!"
"Take a look, have a look! The quality of our goods..."
Amid the calls of vendors and the cries of the crowd, an old man and a boy walked slowly through the market.
The younger one was a boy in a dark robe. He looked left and right, plainly fascinated, but after a few moments, he asked in puzzlement, "Grandfather, didn't you say you were taking me to some Immortal Host Gathering? Why have we come here? This is a market in Chang'an, isn't it? It certainly is lively. Shuzhong can't compare."
The old man looked about fifty or sixty, with a half-black, half-white beard and hair. He wore a dark Mantle over his curly beard. At the question, disdain crossed his face. "Keep your composure. Have you no patience at all?"
The boy pursed his lips.
"And you still won't accept it! Do you think I brought you all this way just to stroll around?" The old man shook his head, looking as though he wished he could turn iron into steel by sheer force of will. "Why would the affairs of the Immortal School follow ordinary logic? Even a market—or a pleasure house—can hold deeper meaning. Instead of studying it, you stand here asking questions. Where is even a trace of my bearing in you? Alas, if this reincarnation hadn't left me muddled for half my life, until my Past-Life Wisdom awakened, your father—and even you, brat—would already have been born. I would never have agreed to teach someone as slow-witted as you!"
The boy only grinned. "Grandfather, that's fate. It was meant to be this way. You know that perfectly well, so why say such things?"
The old man