Zhao Wuya looked at the bed covered with Daoist robes, feeling quite envious.
"Brother Xuan, you have nine robes, can't you spare me one?"
"Of course not, my sister said that nine is the ultimate number, to be one short would change things, like becoming sworn brothers."
Zhou Xuan opened the wardrobe, carefully hanging the robes with hangers inside.
"If you're envious, go find a tailor to make one for yourself. Although you might have me beat in looks, you're far below me in temperament; I'm afraid you wouldn't carry the same style well."
Zhou Xuan joked as he locked the spring lock on the cabinet and went downstairs.
"Brother Xuan, you're the vainest!"
Zhao Wuya looked at Zhou Xuan in his new clothes, feeling quite jealous, and followed him sulkily.
...
In the hall, Xu Li and Yu Zhengyuan had already decided to listen to Zhou Xuan's storytelling that evening.
