In the morning, the streets were already bustling with people. The early market was set up long ago, and enticing aromas wafted from the breakfast stalls.
A young Daoist stood in front of the bun shop, yawning, and said to the shop assistant, "Give me two buns."
"Alright, little Daoist. The usual meat filling?" The assistant clearly recognized this young Daoist and asked familiarly.
"Yes." The young Daoist nodded. On his back was a peachwood sword, an Eight Diagrams Mirror hung at his waist, his hair was casually tied with a cloth strip, and his light blue coarse cloth shirt was somewhat worn and tattered. Only the Tai Chi Dao Map on the back made it barely recognizable as a Daoist robe. He looked about eighteen or nineteen years old, with ordinary looks; only his clear and spirited eyes added a touch of elegance to his overall appearance. His slightly dark skin looked quite lively.
