Sizhui, however, spares a glance up toward the vendor, his lips faintly quirked at the corners, then he downturns again and hums contemplatively while still considering. At this rate, they'll never pick, so it seems Sizhui'll have to take matters into his own hands (or hand, rather, since he's holding onto Jin Ling's—)

His gaze falls onto a particular one; pale white in color, decorated with golden butterflies and a big purple lotus. He reaches out, gently lifts it from its spot to hold before them, then remarks with another full-on grin, “I like this one.”