We guide our mounts into the village proper while Zhuan Kun stews. Sunswift and Daiyu lead the way down the central path between the huts and towards the village square. Half a dozen villagers loiter on the sides of the path, each merrily going about their day. One is beating a small rug vigorously, filling the air with dust as she chats with her neighbor spinning thread. Another is lying comfortably on the roof of their hut, basking in the sun. More villagers trot by in the distance, minding the cattle, the picture of productive harmony.
As we draw closer to the town square, we pass a wizened old woman hanging her laundry on the line with gnarled fingers. A younger woman lets out a gusty sigh as we pass. "Mother, for the last time, please," she groans. "Let me take care of the laundry. Just rest! Look at Old Shuang! He has the right of it!"
She gestures at the man on the roof as if his existence proves her words. But the elder scoffs at her words and swats her hands away when they try to take the laundry from her. "Old Shaung was shiftless and bone-idle when he was young Shaung!" she growls back. "And I will thank you not to compare me to such a layabout! Besides, doing her own work keeps your fairy mother young and beautiful! Would you truly deprive me of such a perfect day?"
The daughter sighs and shakes her head before stepping back, muttering something about stubborn old goats that her mother pretends not to hear. Old Shaung lets out an almost painful sounding cackle from his rooftop perch, drawing a dirty look followed by a balled up shirt thrown at his face at high speed.
