On the streets of the imperial city, the bluestone slabs were baked hot by the midday sun, steaming waves of heat.
The cries of vendors, the bargaining voices, the laughter of children intertwined, painting a bustling marketplace scene.
The old man selling sugar figurines was blowing one into shape for a little girl with pigtail braids.
A woman selling rouge was haggling with several young ladies, everything seemed so harmonious.
"Freshly baked meat buns—" a greasy-faced man shouted loudly in front of a bun stall.
The woman beside him skillfully wrapped the steaming buns in oiled paper and handed them to customers.
At their feet, a little girl about five or six years old squatted, drawing something on the ground with a stick.
Her pigtail braids swayed gently with her movements.
"Qing'er, don't run too far."
The woman lowered her head and cautioned before going back to attend to customers.
The little girl looked up with a sweet smile: "Got it, mom!"
