The next morning, Jun brewed earlier than usual.
No crowd.
No rush.
No customers yet.
Just steam curling into the cool air.
The first cup was for himself.
As always.
He sipped slowly.
Tasted the deeper notes still humming from the new beans.
Listened to the stillness inside his chest.
And when the last drop touched his tongue—
he stood.
Folded the cloth carefully.
Packed the tote.
And headed not toward the plaza.
Today, he walked toward the administrative blocks.
Gray government buildings hunched together like tired clerks.
Flaking signs.
Bulletin boards peppered with outdated notices.
The line at the main office snaked out the door—students, vendors, buskers—anyone trying to carve out a little more breathing room in a city that barely allowed it.
Jun waited.
No fidgeting.
No shifting.
Just breath.
When his turn came, he stepped up to the counter.
The clerk didn't even look up fully.
"Service?"
Jun spoke clearly.
"Temporary vendor application. Single cart. Non-fixed location."
A pause.
Then a clipboard slid across the counter.
Heavy.
Paperwork thick enough to bury smaller dreams.
[System Notification: Bureaucratic Hurdle Detected – Patience Buff Recommended.]
Jun skimmed the forms.
Dozens of fields.
Certifications he didn't have yet.
Small fees he didn't love paying.
Insurance requirements.
Safety clearances.
Proof of water access.
Waste disposal compliance.
It would take time.
Money.
Effort.
Maybe even temporary rejections.
He let out a slow breath.
Didn't clench.
Didn't curse.
He knew growth didn't come cleanly.
It came layered.
Brewed.
Pressed.
Filtered.
The clerk finally looked up.
Expression bored.
Voice flat.
"You wanna proceed?"
Jun met his eyes.
And nodded once.
No drama.
No grand gestures.
Just a steady answer:
"Yeah."
[System Log: Vendor Pathway Activated – Legal Cart Permit Application In Progress.]
[Patience XP Channel Opened – Crafting Through Delay.]
The clerk stamped a date on the form.
Shoved a pamphlet toward him.
Deadlines.
Contact info.
Warnings about late submissions.
Jun took them all without flinching.
Tucked them into the tote alongside the brewing gear.
Walking back to the plaza felt heavier somehow.
But not bad.
Not crushing.
Just real.
Tomorrow he would still brew.
Same cloth.
Same kettle
Same slow spiral of water.
But now—there was a seed planted.
Legal ground under his feet.
Not a full permit yet.
Not a victory yet.
But a step.
A real one.
And that was enough.
For now.
[System Note: Real Foundations Are Built One Quiet Step at a Time.]
Jun unpacked his kit near the plaza's west side that afternoon.
Brewed quietly.
Poured slowly.
Smiled slightly when a customer dropped Notes without waiting for change.
Not because of greed.
Because faith was starting to echo back to him.
One pour at a time.
Logged User: Stylsite08
Path: Stillness to Mastery
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