[ There's a long pause, during which the peddler glares at the two of them, mostly Xue Yang, or perhaps they're simply appraising the items the two of them are holding. Finally they let out a ragged sigh, like the rattling of old bones, wind through the sparse leaves of trees half-dead, or a draft rustling the paper windows of a run-down old house. A sound almost nostalgic for the place they had shared together before coming here.
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[ There's a long pause, during which the peddler glares at the two of them, mostly Xue Yang, or perhaps they're simply appraising the items the two of them are holding. Finally they let out a ragged sigh, like the rattling of old bones, wind through the sparse leaves of trees half-dead, or a draft rustling the paper windows of a run-down old house. A sound almost nostalgic for the place they had shared together before coming here.
"Thirty-two, and not a chip less." ]