I add points to Indian martial arts.

It's hard to describe what kind of person Niveti is. She is strict, rigid, and even a bit harsh. When teaching these wealthy daughters manners, she would immediately and coldly punish them for the slightest mistake.

So at this moment, the fear on Napuli's face, and the respectful standing of the other wealthy daughters, fully demonstrated how afraid they were of this strict teacher.

"Now, stand up, tidy your appearance. The ceremony will begin in fifteen minutes. Also, those who were making noise in the temple earlier, go back and copy the 'Manusmriti, Chapter on Speech' ten times. Give it to me tomorrow." After coldly glancing at Napri and Sulesa, Niveti spoke indifferently, looking exactly like a strict female headmistress.

As soon as she finished speaking, Niveti didn't even glance at the girls and strode steadily toward the depths of the inner sanctum.

The wealthy merchants' daughters, like puppets released from their tethers, rose quietly and walked out of the temple with their eyes lowered. Napri breathed a sigh of relief; she remembered that when she made mistakes in the past, Teacher Niveti would severely punish her by hitting her hands with a slap. Now, the teacher was only punishing her by making her copy scriptures.

……

"A generation lacking reverence, what a bunch of uncouth and annoying girls." In the inner sanctuary, Niveti frowned as she walked with stiff steps. She thought back to her youth when she would devoutly worship whenever she entered a temple. Unlike these girls who laughed and made noise in the temple, they simply did not respect the gods.

As the wealthy merchant's daughters left, gradually, only Niveti's footsteps and the constant crackling of the ever-burning ghee lamps remained in the inner sanctuary.

At the end of the corridor, in the deepest part of the inner sanctuary, the pure gold statue of Lakshmi exudes a tranquil radiance under the worship of countless lights.

One, two, three, four, five, six... seven.

Niveti walked toward the goddess statue. When she took her seventh step, her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, and a faint expression of discomfort flashed across her usually indifferent face. She stopped, lowered her eyes, and looked down at the tips of her shoes. Then she looked up at the base of the goddess statue three feet in front of her, and the stone pillar next to the base that was carved with intricate lotus patterns.

The distance is wrong.

The expected landing point should have been that the shadow of her shoe tip was exactly level with the edge of the stone pillar, but now the shadow fell on the back of her shoe. This means that at least one of the seven steps she took was half an inch longer than the standard, or... the pace of one step was a fraction too fast, causing the subsequent steps to unconsciously widen in order to adjust.

The thought of error made her feel slightly uncomfortable, like an invisible but perceptible stain on a clean white veil.

Without the slightest hesitation, she took a step back, returning to the position where she had ended the sixth step. Then, she turned around, facing the direction she had come from, and started again.

One, two, three... seven

Seven steps later, Niveti repeated the process, stopping steadily at the tip of her shoe on the seventh step.

This time, the edge of the shadow cast by the stone pillar and the leading edge of the toe of her shoe formed an imaginary, perfectly perpendicular line, without the slightest deviation.

Her gaze lingered on that "line" for a second, and then, almost imperceptibly and instinctively, she pressed her hand to her chest and let out a soft, short, and restrained breath, as if even the feeling of relief needed to be strictly controlled in dosage.

……

In the square, the blessing ceremony had begun, with young girls and women offering flowers one by one. Then they knelt on the stone slabs and began to pray and recite scriptures.

The sunlight had become quite intense, much like the festive heat. Thousands upon thousands of colorful saris flowed and collided in the light, converging into a bustling, vibrant ocean.

Suleisa knelt on the smooth, cool stone slab assigned to her, surrounded by girls and young women chanting prayers in hushed tones. The scents of sandalwood, sweat, the dust baked by the scorching sun, and the fading fragrance of the flowers in her arms mingled together.

Her lips moved in an ancient rhythm as she recited the Sri Sukta, a Sanskrit text she knew by heart, each syllable precise.

About an hour later, the chanting of scriptures ended. At this time, the women and girls were free to participate in some activities, eat and rest, and of course, they could also dance the classical cha-ta dance, showing their graceful figures and dance moves in front of all the women, in preparation for the selection of the Dacmansi Sacred Flower at dusk.

At this time of year, Suleisa always attracted everyone's attention like a peacock, because her dancing posture was truly beautiful, like a beautiful peacock spreading its tail feathers. This drew praise and envy from all the women and ladies around her.

But she didn't move at all, still kneeling on the stone slab, her eyes quietly looking into the distance, lost in thought.

At that moment, in the center of the crowd, Napri began to dance, surrounded by a large group of people who admired her. Every now and then, Napri's proud gaze would drift towards Suleisa.

It's as if it's saying, "Look, how many people praise me, how many people surround me, while you can only stand there all alone."

"Sister Suleisa, what's wrong with you? You should hold your head high like a peacock and show everyone your beauty, instead of letting that woman be the center of attention. You should be the one being praised and surrounded by everyone."

"I guarantee that as long as you go up and dance, everyone's eyes will be on you. Her dance will be nothing but dust and moonlight compared to yours." It was Naviya who walked up to Suleisa indignantly and said. She didn't understand what was wrong with this sister here today. First, she bowed her head and apologized to Napri in the temple, and now she was not going to participate in the dancing activities, as if she was giving up on the Dakmansi Sacred Flower selection that night.

"You know, Navia, one shouldn't be greedy," Suleza said with a calm smile. "When faced with two things you like, you can only choose the one you like more."

"What are you saying?" Navia didn't quite understand what Sulesa meant.

"I like being surrounded by everyone, being praised, I like being like a proud peacock, never bowing my head, but I also like..." At this point, Suleza paused, she glanced at the sky, "But the peacock has married, she can no longer hold her head high so willfully."

Navia understood somewhat; it turned out that her sister Suleisa was thinking of the husband she was about to marry.

He was afraid that arguing with Naples would offend Piro and affect Livy.

"Aren't you upset seeing her like that?" Navia asked again in a low voice, glancing at Napri, who was beaming with pride in the crowd.

"Of course I feel terrible." Suleisa admitted it readily. She even squinted her eyes and smiled again, this time with a sly sweetness, like a child who had stolen some honey. "So you know what? When I was chanting the sutra just now, I wasn't thinking about the goddess. I said all the bad things I could think of to Napri in my mind."

With a chuckle, Navia laughed too. She whispered to herself that she had just been cursing Navia in her heart, calling her a noisy, colorful crow.

In this way, the atmosphere between the two suddenly relaxed, and they began to talk and laugh in hushed tones, temporarily separating themselves from the dazzling noise in the center of the arena.

Finally, Navia asked another question: what if a woman who pours her entire life into her husband's earthenware jar eventually faces an empty vessel?

When she heard the question, Suleza paused for a moment and remained silent for a long time.