Loraine sighed and guided him in the opposite direction.


    “Let me take you around the local market.”


    Upon reaching the market, Marco found himself immersed in apletely different experience.


    It was his inaugural visit to such a locale. Compared to the bustling streets brimming with food vendors


    he was familiar with, the market seemed even more chaotic and vibrant, with a blend of diverse aromas


    leaving him momentarily flustered.


    Luckily, Loraine swiftly grabbed his hand and admonished, “Stay close, don’t get lost.”


    Gradually, Marco rxed as he shadowed her through the vegetable stalls, meat vendors, and bustling


    crowd.


    The busy and vibrant atmosphere of the market allowed them to walk closely together. Unable to hold


    back his curiosity, Marco queried,


    “Did you design this too?”


    Loraine chuckled and replied, “Not at all. The market has been here for ages, possessing a rich history.


    It offers an extensive variety of goods, and you can find just about anything here at an affordable price.”


    Marco instantly adopted an attentive demeanor, ready to Learn.


    As they meandered through the market, Loraine adeptly picked out items from various stalls. They


    would pause asionally to peruse goods, and as they passed a meat vendor, Loraine had no


    intention of stopping.


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    However, the rotund butcher, spotting them, eagerly approached to draw their attention.


    Their attire was conspicuously distinct from that of the regr market-goers, signaling they were here


    for a taste of a different lifestyle. The butcher’s eyes Lit up, envisioning a potential windfall.


    Intrigued, Marco nced in his direction, and Loraine deemed it the right moment to pause.


    The butcher beamed, his tobo-stained teeth on full disy, and offered, “Take a look at my meat.


    It’s the freshest in the whole market. Are you newlyweds who’ve just embarked on Living


    independently?


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    My meat would be an excellent choice for you!”


    Loraine assessed the meat he was touting, noting itsckluster hue, a sign of prolonged storage. She


    bypassed his sales spiel and instead pointed to a different cut, gesturing the butcher to slice it for her.


    The butcher was taken aback. He had pegged Loraine as a clueless young individual, oblivious to the


    nuances of choosing meat. However, she had picked the most fresh and superior cut.


    Could it be… a fluke?


    He shrugged off the thought and proceeded to weigh the meat, package it, and hand it over, stating,


    “Exactly two pounds, here you go!”


    As Loraine epted the bag and verified its weight, she sensed something was amiss. She eyed the


    butcher’s scale and smirked, asserting, “Sir, it appears your scale is faulty.”


    Feigning astonishment, the butcher responded, “Miss, how could you suggest such a thing? I’m an


    upright tradesman. My scale is precise. I never swindle my patrons.”


    Loraine’s expression remained frosty as she pointed to the bag of potatoes Marco was holding,


    purchased from a nearby stand.