Brother, We Have Traveled Through Time

Afternoon, warm wind, Xiangyang, crowds of people. At the door of the grocery store, Xie Xuanzhi stopped, holding a piece of soap in mid-air. Opposite, a woman in a green robe was also tossing a piece of soap in her hand, holding it without moving. Both of them stared at what the other was holding. "Wontons, wontons, fifteen cents a bowl -" the shouting continued. Does he/she also have a piece in his/her hand?