By the time Ananya and Yao Qing left the shop, the sun hung high in the sky, beating down on the bustling capital streets.
Vendors shouted prices, rickshaw wheels rattled over cobblestones, and the air was heavy with the scent of sesame oil, sugar syrup, and fresh-cut bamboo.
Ananya adjusted her scarf, squinting at the rows of shops. "We'll need almost everything—tables, chairs, a stove, spices, and some seeds for the garden behind the shop."
Fen Yu clapped her translucent hands. "A garden! I'll grow flowers!"
Wei Rong snorted. "You'll scare them into blooming early."
Li Shen's voice came softly, "Let her dream. Gardens remember kindness."
Ananya hid a small smile. "Then let's start before the market closes."
They reached a stretch lined with carpenters, the rhythmic clatter of chisels filling the air.
Planks of polished wood gleamed in the sunlight; sawdust floated like fine mist.
The master carpenter looked up from his bench. "Looking for furniture, ladies?"
