The Parkers observed Draco's mature composure and aristocratic bearing with visible relief, their gratitude flowing in repeated thanks. It wasn't that they doubted Gemini's capabilities—but her youthful appearance made Draco's seasoned authority infinitely more reassuring when discussing their son's magical education.
After the sumptuous dinner, Draco took his leave with diplomatic efficiency. "I have several matters requiring attention," he explained, adjusting his silver cufflinks with practiced precision. "However, the night market here is quite remarkable. Should you wish to explore, I recommend taking advantage of this evening—tomorrow's match begins at sunset, so you'll want to conserve your energy during the day."
The group consultation lasted approximately thirty seconds before reaching unanimous consensus: Tonight, they would paint the town red!
America had shopping malls and entertainment districts, but nothing quite like a traditional Chinese night market. More importantly, their usual urban adventures were limited by practical concerns—Steve's medical condition, Banner's anger management issues, and the general vulnerability of their eclectic group. Here, with magical security and international protections, they could finally unleash their tourist instincts without reservation.
The crowd dispersed like excited children at a carnival. Gemini shouldered her designer handbag and dispatched Steve on a reconnaissance mission to locate volunteers who could summon their panda transport—no sense hiking back through the humid evening when magical convenience was available.
What followed was four hours of unbridled consumer enthusiasm. The night market proved to be a sensory wonderland—street food that defied physics, magical trinkets that actually worked, clothing that adapted to the wearer's preferences, and entertainment that blurred the line between performance and reality.
Peter finally capitulated to exhaustion around 2 AM, his protests about bedtime providing the only force capable of extracting the adults from their shopping frenzy. Left to their own devices, they might have purchased the entire market.
Each adult had mentally committed to future Chinese tourism—this magical district was merely an appetizer for the cultural feast that mainland China presumably offered.
Steve, predictably, had managed logistics while everyone else indulged. He'd coordinated with volunteers, tracked down their scattered group, organized their transportation, and somehow loaded their accumulated purchases into Panpan's expanded cargo space. His military efficiency remained intact despite the festive atmosphere.
The return journey buzzed with excited whispers as everyone compared acquisitions. Peter had finally succumbed to sleep, curled against May's shoulder, so conversations remained appropriately subdued.
Back at their expanded tent, May efficiently deposited Peter in his bedroom before rejoining the impromptu fashion council. The three women had conspired during dinner to conduct a comprehensive inventory of their cultural acquisitions.
The spacious living room transformed into a textile warehouse as bags, boxes, and packages colonized every available surface. Tony methodically marked each item with his wand, preventing the inevitable chaos of mixed ownership.
"Reveal Marks!" Tony completed his organizational ritual and wiped perspiration from his forehead. "Finally! Ladies and gentlemen, I hereby declare the Great Haul Exhibition officially open!"
The ensuing chaos resembled Christmas morning multiplied by cultural exchange. Everyone dove toward their respective treasures, unwrapping purchases with the enthusiasm of archaeologists discovering lost civilizations.
Individual presentations followed—each person displaying their acquisitions while explaining intended uses and magical properties. Duplicate purchases sparked immediate trading negotiations, with detailed comparisons of craftsmanship, magical enhancement, and aesthetic appeal.
Gemini, Pepper, and May had clearly dominated the textile markets. Their collection featured stunning hanfu in every conceivable style, complemented by jewelry that seemed to capture starlight in precious metals. The intricate differences between hairpins, hair sticks, walking ornaments, and ceremonial tiaras remained mysterious, but their beauty was universally acknowledged.
The economic accessibility had enabled even May—operating on a teacher's budget—to acquire an impressive collection. Quality and affordability rarely coexisted so harmoniously in American markets.
The evening's crescendo arrived when Gemini produced a leather-bound manual that resembled a fashion bible. Its pages contained detailed instructions for proper hanfu styling, complete with animated demonstrations that moved like tiny films.
"This is incredible," Pepper breathed, studying the moving illustrations. "But I'm absolutely hopeless with complicated hairstyles. My hands weren't designed for this level of artistry."
May nodded in agreement. "I can barely manage a ponytail without creating disasters."
Gemini's smile carried the satisfaction of someone holding the perfect solution. She withdrew an ornate comb that seemed to shimmer with internal light. "This little beauty came with the book. It's been enchanted with dozens of traditional hairstyles—just run it through your hair while thinking about your chosen outfit, and it handles the rest."
The room erupted in excitement. Everyone immediately began sorting through their purchases, selecting their inaugural ensembles. The women commandeered the washroom for their transformation, while the men were banished to the second floor—hairstyling being deemed unnecessary for their gender.
Thirty minutes later, Gemini emerged from the washroom and barely recognized her reflection. The magical comb had crafted an elaborate arrangement—her black hair twisted into twin buns secured with golden ornaments, while delicate tassels cascaded from walking ornaments to frame her shoulders.
Her outfit was a Tang-dynasty masterpiece—an orange-red ruqun with intricate embroidery in red, blue, and green. Pearl decorations adorned her waist belt, creating a look that was simultaneously playful and regal.
Pepper appeared next, moving with careful precision in her magnificent ensemble. Her gold-brocade coat featured high collar styling, paired with a mamian skirt embroidered with traditional "peace and elephants" motifs. A faux kingfisher tiara completed the look, though she gripped the doorframe for balance.
"Absolutely stunning," she admitted, "but these skirts require serious architectural planning for basic locomotion."
May joined them, tugging at her flowing sleeves with bemused fascination. Her Tang-style chest-high mo skirt was complemented by a gauze wide-sleeve shirt and traditional pibo. The vibrant red fabric with golden embroidery created a striking silhouette.
"Is this really how ancient Chinese women dressed?" she marveled. "It's absolutely gorgeous! Makes European court fashion look positively primitive—and it's actually comfortable!"
"Probably modernized for practical wear," Gemini theorized, adjusting her skirt with growing confidence. "The authentic versions are likely museum pieces, but this captures the essential elegance."
The three women linked arms and processed toward the living room with newfound grace. Their restrictive skirts naturally enforced the gliding steps and measured pace of traditional Chinese ladies—centuries of cultural refinement encoded in fabric design.
The men's fashion show commenced with Banner and Ben descending the stairs in matching round-collar robes topped with traditional caps. Their similar aesthetic sensibilities had produced remarkably harmonious results.
Steve followed, and his impressive physique transformed the dark blue feiyu robe into something approaching military regalia. The embroidered spring knife at his waist completed the illusion of a high-ranking imperial officer.
Tony and Happy made their entrance with characteristic flair, sporting Tang-dynasty chain mail and mingguang armor that gleamed like polished silver. Long Tang swords hung from their waists as they swaggered downstairs with the confidence of victorious generals returning from campaign.
The assembled group regarded each other with growing hilarity. Cultural authenticity collided with personal style to create results that ranged from genuinely impressive to delightfully absurd.
What followed was an impromptu fashion show that would have challenged Milan Fashion Week for sheer entertainment value. Everyone cycled through multiple outfits, experimenting with different styles and accessories while providing running commentary on each other's choices.
The evening's ultimate highlight arrived when May and Pepper, emboldened by wine and Gemini's encouragement, announced their intention to expand the fashion experiment to include cross-gender styling.
"Absolutely not," Tony declared, backing toward the stairs. "I have dignity. I have reputation. I have—"
"You have no choice," Pepper interrupted with predatory glee. "This is for cultural education. And blackmail material."
Ben attempted to negotiate his escape, but May's teacher authority proved insurmountable. Within minutes, both men found themselves reluctantly modeling women's hanfu while their companions collapsed with laughter.
Tony, resplendent in a jade-green ruqun with elaborate hair ornaments, struck dramatic poses while muttering about revenge and deleted photographs. Ben, meanwhile, appeared to be questioning his life choices while wearing a pink Tang-style ensemble that somehow emphasized his scholarly demeanor.
Steve, recognizing the inevitable trajectory of events, executed a strategic withdrawal. As feminine hands reached toward him with obvious intent, he produced a medical potion from his pocket, consumed it with theatrical desperation, and collapsed in apparent unconsciousness.
"Treatment protocol," Gemini explained to the disappointed women. "We'll have to spare him this time."
Coby dutifully carried Steve's "unconscious" form to his bedroom, though everyone noticed the suspicious twitch of suppressed laughter around his eyes.
Happy and Banner proved less fortunate. Banner, mortified beyond description, appeared to be fighting his transformation into the Hulk through sheer embarrassment. His bright red Tang-style mo skirt clashed spectacularly with his flushed complexion.
Happy, however, embraced his fate with unexpected enthusiasm. Wearing the same style in vibrant red, he began posing with exaggerated femininity, batting his eyelashes and striking coquettish attitudes that sent the entire group into hysterical laughter.
His scarred face and impressive beard combined with the delicate feminine styling to create an image so surreal that several people questioned whether they'd accidentally unlocked some previously unknown aspect of Happy's personality.
"I think," Gemini gasped between fits of laughter, "we may have created a monster."
Happy twirled, his skirt flaring dramatically, and winked at the assembled audience. "You ain't seen nothing yet, sweetheart."
The night dissolved into chaos, laughter, and the kind of bonding experience that transforms acquaintances into family. Tomorrow would bring the World Cup and serious magical competition, but tonight belonged to friendship, cultural exchange, and the universal truth that sometimes the best memories come from the most ridiculous moments.
As dawn approached and exhaustion finally claimed them, everyone agreed that this impromptu fashion show had been worth the entire trip. Some experiences simply couldn't be purchased—they had to be lived, laughed through, and treasured forever.
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