"Just go back and practice every day."
"Really? Can I?"
"I can't guarantee that." Xin Chen picked up the pot of cooked noodles and started to slurp them down, chatting while eating, "It all depends on fate."
The child nodded in bewildered agreement, waving the willow branch and muttering the mantra to himself, ready to leave. Just then, Xin Chen suddenly called out, "Hey."
The child turned back, but Xin Chen just waved his hand, "Never mind."
He actually wanted to ask for a name, but he figured that if they were meant to see each other again, he could ask next time. If there was no fate, asking now made no difference. He let it be, believing that everything was destined.
