Jenna swallowed the last bite of her steamed bun. The soy milk cup was empty.

The auntie at the neighboring stall was enthusiastically helping her arrange the clothing rack. After hesitating, Jenna spoke up, "What should I call you?"

"Tanya Hill. Just call me Aunt Tanya." The shoe vendor efficiently stacked shoeboxes and smiled at her.

"I'm Jenna." She clenched the hem of her shirt, the fabric slightly damp in her palm. "Have you been vending here long, Aunt Tanya?"

"Two years and three months." Tanya wiped dust off a shoe with a cloth. "Since the very first day this market opened."

"Always selling shoes?"

"Yep. My lifelong trade."

Before she finished speaking, a silver-haired grandmother stopped at the shoe stall. Tanya winked at Jenna. "We'll chat later."

Jenna watched as Tanya swiftly pulled out a pair of maroon mesh shoes. The elderly woman's wrinkles crinkled with joy as she tried them on.

Just as the eighty-dollar sale concluded, two ponytailed girls appeared at Jenna's clothing rack.

"Feel free to browse!" Jenna nearly knocked over her iron.

The taller girl pinched a white cotton T-shirt. "How much?"

"Sixty." Jenna shook out the collar to show the reinforced stitching. "Won't lose shape even after thirty machine washes."

"Will this match?" The girl's friend held up denim shorts.

The pale blue fabric glowed softly in the sunlight. In the end, they bought three items.

As Jenna tied the last shopping bag, another customer lifted the dust cover.

At some point, Tanya had returned and began handing her hangers. Three hours later, Jenna had restocked her tricycle twice.

While pressing the final shirt, she heard Tanya ask, "Made around five hundred today?"

"Gross profit four-seventy." Steam fogged Jenna's lashes. "Fabric costs ate sixty percent."

"All beginners start that way." Tanya kicked aside an empty shoebox. "By the way, don't come Wednesdays or Fridays."

The iron suddenly hissed. Jenna turned it off. "Will they confiscate the merchandise?"