A series of slurps echoed in the air as a few drops of soup splattered onto the grand prize's shirt. Ji Shanqing was sitting in a lotus position under the umbrella. He had gathered his long hair at the back of his head. His cheeks were rosy, and his lips were red and bee-stung as he buried his head in the bowl and stuffed the piping hot noodles into his mouth.
"Is it good?" Lin Sanjiu watched him like a mother looking at her son as she wiped at the soup stain on his trousers.
The resting zone plunged into a deep silence the moment Puppeteer and the grand prize showed up. It took a considerable amount of time before the atmosphere gradually became lively again, except for one spot. The area where Lin Sanjiu and her group sat was still as quiet as before. The cries from the stall owners, the steam from the snacks, and the whisper from the tarot stall were all blocked out by a group of people that surrounded them.
