I am the Heroine’s Master?

Mo Jian was fiddling with a piece of the bronze-like jade from the deepest recesses of the Kanchi mine, when Bai Ning's voice transmission talisman reached him.

He didn't even bother to sweep it with his spiritual sense; he already knew what the message would say. Instead, he put away the jade he was working on, and swatted the message away with a burst of qi. He had to be careful; an increase in realm had come with an increase in qi, and while his control had not suffered, even minor actions had a tendency to create disproportionate affects. Case in point: when he had unleashed a qi blade to cut away a promising chunk of rock in a new seam… and accidentally split the entire shaft clean in half.

He had, after digging himself out of the collapse, calmly informed his workers that he had detected traces of a Jade Wyrm and acted decisively to seal the tunnel. Better to be seen as prudent and protective than to invite inconvenient questions about his judgment. He had reassured himself of that quite virtuously, even as the lie still lingered warm on his tongue.

Since then, he had been considerably more restrained with his qi.

The massive doors to the central hall swung open moments later. Bai Ning entered first, expression glacial, and ushered their guest inside.

Wei Shentong looked much as Mo Jian remembered him: a hard, immovable face; pale blue eyes set deep beneath a heavy brow; short white hair; and a bearing that suggested centuries had not softened him in the slightest. The Unbroken Jade Coronet rested upon his head, its muted olive sheen catching the light without warmth.

His behavior, however, was another matter entirely.

He paused just inside the threshold, gaze moving unhurriedly across the hall, over jade pillars, along the carved walls, tracing the fractal patterns etched into the floor, before finally settling on Mo Jian, seated alone at the long table in the cavernous space. Then he smiled. It was a friendly expression, so at odds with Mo Jian's memory of the man that it felt almost absurd.

"Fellow Daoist," Wei Shentong said, clasping his hands in a formal salute, equal to equal.

Mo Jian felt his brows twitch upward and forced them back down, suppressing his surprise with effort. He had expected this meeting to differ from their last, but not quite like this.

"Wei Shentong," he replied, offering no warmth beyond the barest nod. Beside him, Bai Ning had already taken her place, standing rigid and silent, her gaze as cold as ever as it fixed on their guest.

For his part, Wei Shentong seemed unbothered. He smiled again, drawing from Mo Jian a strong urge to shudder, and instead let his attention drift about the hall. His eyes traced the gleam of polished jade, lingered on the subtle luster of the pillars, and followed the long streams of sunlight pouring through the high-set windows.

"This is a remarkable residence, Fellow Daoist," he said at last. "I watched parts of its construction from my own pavilion, but even so, it strains belief that something like this could rise in mere days. I have rarely seen it's like."

Mo Jian's lips curved into a thin, humorless smile. "I can't claim the credit. My contributions were minimal at best." He tilted his head, just slightly. "Had you not been occupied with throwing miners to their deaths some time ago, perhaps you might have received the same assistance."

Wei Shentong's smile faltered. For the briefest instant, his true expression surfaced; grim, unyielding, cold as stone, and then it was gone, smoothed away by practiced ease.

"My poor judgment has indeed cost me," he said smoothly. "I trust you will not take offense."

Bai Ning let out a quiet, derisive snort. Wei Shentong did not so much as glance her way. Mo Jian chose not to indulge the obvious lie waiting behind that statement. Instead, he simply gestured toward the only other seat at the table.

"Sit."

Wei Shentong complied with fluid grace, lowering himself into the chair opposite. Even seated, he barely reached Mo Jian's shoulder, though the Unbroken Jade Coronet granted him nearly a foot of additional height. As he settled, it caught a stray shaft of sunlight, its muted green flashing briefly toward gold and casting long, distorted shadows across the hall.

"Congratulations are in order on your advancement to the Nascent Soul realm, Fellow Daoist Mo Jian. When we last met, I could scarcely have imagined that mere days later, you would rise to such heights." He swept a sleeve across the table before Mo Jian could respond. "I have prepared a small gift to mark the occasion. I hope you will not refuse."

In a flash of light, a tea set materialized upon a lacquered tray: a slender pitcher with faint steam curling from its spout; two cups gleaming with an inner luminescence, their interiors painted with bare winter branches; and a small pouch of tea leaves, black save for a delicate gold mark pressed into its surface. The scent of warm tea filled the room immediately, layered with notes of spring blossoms, ripe fruit, and something sweetly familiar that Mo Jian could not quite name.

Without waiting for a reply, Wei Shentong poured. The tea was pale lavender, with minute sprigs of some dark flower drifting suspended within it. He filled one cup for Mo Jian and slid it forward with deliberate care, then poured one for himself. As the liquid settled, the painted winter branches at the bottom of Mo Jian's cup began to shift. Buds formed, and then they bloomed.

Mo Jian drew in a slow breath. It had been far too long since he had enjoyed proper tea; the capital had been a disappointment in that regard. He picked up the cup despite his better judgment, swirled it once, and took a sip.

He stilled.

The cup remained at his lips for a long moment. Then he lowered it with a care usually reserved for irreplaceable artifacts and set it down slowly. He swallowed. A quiet, entirely involuntary sound of appreciation escaped him.

That was extraordinary.

He lifted the cup again. Warmth spread through him on the second sip, sinking deep into his bones, loosening something tightly coiled that he hadn't realized was there. On the third, he thought distantly that enlightenment might not be an unreasonable expectation.

Wei Shentong noticed. His smile widened a fraction. "I have also prepared a separate pouch of these leaves, Brother Mo, should this humble tea suit your taste. They come from a distant district and are not easily obtained, but if you find yourself wanting more, I would be glad to procure it for you."

Mo Jian was already on his third sip and had nearly nodded. He knew this was a bribe. He knew it clearly. And yet the flavor lingering on his tongue was doing something genuinely criminal to his resolve, and Wei Shentong's grim, rigid face had softened behind the curling steam into something almost pleasant to-

Someone was drilling a hole through the side of his head.

Ah.

Mo Jian gave no outward sign that he had noticed, even as Bai Ning did her level best to kill him with her eyes alone. Right. Of course. What had he been thinking? Nothing improper. He knew this was a bribe. He was absolutely not going to fall for it.

He set the cup down, reluctantly.

"Perhaps," he said, noncommittal. "But let us dispose of the unpleasant matters first. I'll speak plainly: what brings you here? I can't say our last encounter left me with any goodwill toward you, or any particular desire to hear you out."

The smile left Wei Shentong's face.

In its place was his true expression again: hard and stripped of warmth, a face that had never softened for anyone for very long. He seemed to weigh something in silence before arriving at a decision. The last traces of performed affability drained from him, and what remained was only the rigid set of his jaw and the cold certainty in his eyes. He pushed his teacup aside, setting it down with careless force. A few drops crested the rim, trembling on the edge of spilling, and Mo Jian almost winced at the waste.

"Very well," Wei Shentong said. "I will speak plainly as well. I wish to purchase the new jade produced by this mine. Name your price."

Mo Jian's eyebrows rose. This time, he did not manage to restrain them. He had expected something along these lines, just not so blunt. And besides-

"Name your price?" Bai Ning's voice cut in, sharp with contempt. "What price could possibly account for the lives you've ruined? And now you presume to play at friendship after threatening to kill us?"

Wei Shentong's expression tightened, but he did not look at her. His pale blue eyes remained fixed on Mo Jian.

"So what?" he said, his tone cooling further. "Will you allow minor matters of the past to govern your present? I am still the magister of this district, and I have shown you considerable restraint thus far. Any conflict between us will not remain contained; it will spread, and the entire district will suffer for it."

He paused, then continued, voice sharpening. "Besides, it is not as though you are without secrets of your own. Do not think I have failed to notice the jade's southern orientation. I have no interest in prying into your affairs. In return, I ask only that you sell your excess jade to me, and at a fair price." His gaze did not waver. "This arrangement costs you nothing and stands to benefit you greatly."

Bai Ning let out a derisive scoff. "Costs and benefits; is that all you understand?" she said coldly. "We are not as morally bankrupt as you. To sell anything to you would be to legitimize everything you've done. Do not presume to place us on the same level."

Wei Shentong ground his teeth, jaw tightening, but still did not look at her. "Regardless. You clearly have no intention of remaining here long, and I will obtain that jade one way or another. Better, then, to deal with me directly. I will honor any agreement we reach."

Bai Ning straightened, clearly ready to strike back with words sharp enough to draw blood, but Mo Jian lifted a hand. She stopped at once, though her gaze on Wei Shentong did not soften in the slightest.

"What makes you think I won't stay?" Mo Jian asked mildly. "The Kanchi Mine is quite valuable. The privileges afforded to its overseer are not insignificant. Even for a Nascent Soul cultivator, it might be worth committing to."

Wei Shentong's lips flattened. For a moment, Mo Jian thought it was anger. Then, he realized it was more like a suppressed, somewhat mocking smile.

"Must I spell it out?" Wei Shentong said. "The gui, the deliberate and almost ostentatious manner in which you have managed this mine, your breakthrough occurring immediately after the examination results were announced…"

He let the silence settle like a weight. "It forms a rather clear picture."

His gaze remained pointed.

"Only those seeking the attention of something greater than themselves bother to shine so brightly. And you, Fellow Daoist Mo, are shining very brightly indeed."

Hmm. Mo Jian had never assumed his intentions would remain hidden from someone as old, powerful, and well-connected as Wei Shentong, but he hadn't expected the man to piece it together from such sparse clues. It seemed he had underestimated him. That would need correcting.

Better to take the initiative.

Mo Jian smiled, slipping easily into a mask of relaxed affability, and tapped a finger lightly against the rim of his teacup. Astonishingly, the tea was still warm, faint tendrils of steam curling upward. There was no trace of qi sustaining it, so it must have been an inherent property of the leaves themselves.

"True enough," he admitted. "I do have ambitions beyond overseeing a mine for the rest of my days. But even if I leave, what of it?"

He tilted his head, studying Wei Shentong.

"I intend to recommend He Jianyu and Zhao Wenhai as my successors once Bai Ning and I depart. I doubt they will be any more inclined to cooperate with you than we are."

Wei Shentong's eyes narrowed at the unfamiliar names. "The two Core Formation juniors you recruited? I have looked into them. Even if they become overseers with your recommendation, they are not you. Do you truly believe they will oppose me with no backing of their own?"

His voice cooled further. "Are you really prepared to go so far, simply out of petty spite?"

It isn't pettiness, Mo Jian wanted to say. Instead, his anger settled into something colder and more defined. There was something deeply repulsive in Wei Shentong's assumption: that opposing him must stem from something as trivial as wounded pride. The man sitting across from him had ruined lives, extinguished them without hesitation, and yet could not conceive of resistance born from principle.

What did it take to become someone like that? Endless power? Time? Or simply the habit of never being denied? Mo Jian hoped he would never find out.

He fixed Wei Shentong with a flat, unimpressed look, even as he subtly shook his head to forestall Bai Ning. She likely knew better than to interrupt, but the provocation had been deliberate.

Above them, sunlight filtered through the high windows, casting shifting bands of gold and green across the hall. A thin strip of light crept slowly across the table, like liquid gold dividing it cleanly in two. The fractal patterns etched into the floor shimmered faintly, almost like a compass needle aligning toward some unseen direction-

-directly to Mo Jian's right.

He ignored it.

At last, he leaned back and exhaled. "Say I agree. What are your terms?"

It was not quite acceptance, but it was close enough. Wei Shentong seemed to think so as well; the tension in his expression eased, if only slightly.

He inclined his head. "Nothing you would find objectionable," he said. "I will purchase whatever excess jade you possess after fulfilling your quotas at twice the market rate for Grade One jadeite. Should you produce Imperial Jadeite in sufficient quantities, I will buy that at three times market price, up to ten tons per year."

A brief pause.

"In return, you gain not only a consistent buyer but my cooperation within the district. I can smooth your path, and introduce you to fellow Daoists in other regions. At our level, opportunities to exchange insight are... limited. This arrangement would greatly assist you as you consolidate your new cultivation."

His gaze drifted, just briefly, over Mo Jian's altered appearance – the unmistakable evidence of his recent breakthrough – before returning to his face.

Irritation pricked at Mo Jian at being called out for that from this man, sharper than he expected. When he spoke, his tone carried an edge. "So, spirit stones and connections. That is all you have to offer?"

Wei Shentong stilled. The lines of his face deepened, hardening; even the coronet's glow seemed to dim slightly. For a moment he looked as though he might lash out. He did not. Instead, he spoke through teeth that had very little give in them. His eyes locked onto Mo Jian's. "What more do you want? Speak plainly."

Mo Jian met that piercing blue gaze without flinching, his own brown eyes steady as he laid out his demand. "Three things," he said evenly. "First, a glowing letter of praise and recommendation for your dear friend Mo Jian and junior Bai Ning. You will speak highly of our work at the Kanchi Mine, how we succeeded where even you struggled, and how we resolved its long-standing issues."

He paused for a second before continuing. "You will further state that we possess exceptional aptitude, and recommend that we be granted a chance at the Inner Examination. That letter will be sent as far up the chain as your influence allows, through whatever contacts you have cultivated at court." Wei Shentong's expression darkened, his lips parting as if to object, but Mo Jian raised a hand, cutting him off cleanly. "And don't insult me by claiming you lack such connections," he said, voice sharpening. "If you expect me to believe that, then there is no point in continuing this conversation."

Silence fell. Wei Shentong's jaw tightened, a grimace settling over his face as he swallowed whatever retort had risen to his tongue.

"As I thought," he said at last, voice low. "Your goal is the Palace."

His gaze hardened. "My contacts are not so easily spent. I had intended to use them for my own entry eventually. If I redirect that resource toward you, I may be forfeiting my only real chance to step into the heart of the Empire."

Mo Jian only shrugged, as if the matter were of no particular consequence. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the unmistakable satisfaction on Bai Ning's face now that the conversation had reached this point.

"That sounds like a you problem," he said lightly. "Besides, if you fail to secure the jade, how exactly do you intend to further refine your natal artifact?" He let the question linger for a beat before continuing. "Compared to that, wagering on a distant future that may never materialize seems… negotiable, doesn't it?"

Wei Shentong exhaled heavily, but did not respond. Seeing that, Mo Jian continued.

"Second, you will swear never to interfere with the workings of the Kanchi Mine again, regardless of who oversees it. If I leave He Jianyu and Zhao Wenhai in charge, they will not be forced into some quiet struggle against you. You will abide by their rulings and keep your distance."

His tone hardened slightly. "The Kanchi Mine will not return to an age where lives are thrown away for 'necessity.'"

Wei Shentong's expression darkened further, but still, he held his tongue.

"Third," Mo Jian said, "you will perform a task for me."

That, at last, drew a flicker of open irritation.

"I have heard your Jadewing Canoe is a highly agile and fast means of flight," Mo Jian continued. "Soon, I will require someone to travel to the Thousand Shattered Islands on my behalf and retrieve a few promising young cultivators bound for the capital. Bai Ning and I have already contacted them via distance talismans, but at only Core Formation, they would take far too long to arrive on their own."

He shrugged faintly.

"And I have no intention of wasting months on the journey myself. So you will go in my stead."

With each word, the color in Wei Shentong's face had been deepening steadily. Now, he snapped. "Are you out of your mind, Fellow Daoist? I have treated you with respect, and now you presume to make such demands? This condition is absurd. I will not lower myself to ferrying your servants across the empire. Why do you even need them, when you already have two Core Formation juniors under your command?"

"Because," Bai Ning cut in sharply, "they are loyal, honorable, and trustworthy; qualities you may find unfamiliar, but which we value." Her voice cooled further. "And since we intend to enter the Palace, we require an entourage worthy of the name. Besides," she added, eyes flashing, "these are my friends you speak of, so mind your words, Senior." The title landed like an insult.

Wei Shentong's lip curled as he flicked a glance at her before returning his attention to Mo Jian. "It is still too much. Do you even understand what such a journey entails? The time alone, let alone the cost-"

"Six months," Mo Jian cut in smoothly. "Three to reach the islands, three to return." His expression didn't change. "And in the span of our lifetimes, you would call six months excessive?"

"For what you are asking, yes," Wei Shentong said flatly. "If you need allies in court, find another way to fetch them. I am not your dog, to be sent running at your command."

Mo Jian smiled. If anything, that only made Wei Shentong more wary; his eyes narrowed further, suspicion sharpening his gaze.

"True enough," Mo Jian said pleasantly. "So, let me sweeten the deal." He leaned back slightly, as if the matter were of little consequence. "When I enter the court, I will be permitted an entourage, as you well know. There is no rule that says its members must all be weaker than me, only that their number is limited."

He paused for effect. "I would be willing to include you among them… if you swear to serve me well."

Wei Shentong froze. For a moment – just a moment – two things warred openly across his face. Disbelief, and beneath it, raw and unguarded longing. The kind that came from wanting something for a very long time and not being accustomed to admitting it. Then it was gone, sealed over by the hard mask.

"So certain you'll make it?" he said, voice cooling. "You haven't even taken the Inner Examination."

Mo Jian said nothing. He simply held the man's gaze, unblinking.

Wei Shentong looked away first.

"A chance to enter the Palace," he said slowly, "in exchange for your three conditions, on top of the jade arrangement we discussed. And all of it resting on ifs…"

He exhaled, tension bleeding from his shoulders. "Very well. If you can deliver, I don't mind playing your lapdog for a few years in court, so long as I get the opportunity to reach it."

His eyes sharpened again. "How do you intend to seal this? A soul oath?"

Mo Jian shook his head immediately, even as a quiet sense of victory rose within him. Of all the ways this negotiation could have unfolded, this was near the best outcome. Now, only one obstacle remained.

"I have no interest in swearing a soul oath with you," he said plainly.

Wei Shentong's expression hardened at once, the lines of his face growing starker. "Then how do you propose to ensure compliance? If you expect me to simply trust you-"

"No," Mo Jian cut in. "I don't. And I certainly don't trust you." He leaned forward slightly. "But there is another way."

Wei Shentong frowned.

"As it happens," Mo Jian continued, "the capital has a method to ensure that agreements between cultivators of the same realm remain… sacrosanct. We'll use that."

Confusion flickered across Wei Shentong's face, before suddenly, realization struck. His eyes widened. The anger vanished, replaced by naked incredulity. "You-" He stopped, then stared at Mo Jian as though seeing him for the first time. "Have you lost your mind?"

His voice rose, sharp with disbelief. "An official duel is not a tool for enforcing agreements. It's a last resort to settle irreconcilable conflict. Do you even understand what you're proposing?"

"Yes," Mo Jian said, feeling the pulse of the conversation reach its tipping point. "My idea is simple. We will set this as a wager, with each side staking their desired outcome on victory."

He met Wei Shentong's gaze without hesitation. "If you win, you take the jade at no cost. I impose no further conditions upon you. And, should I ever gain entry to the Palace, you will accompany me there, without any obligation of service.

"But-" he added sharply, before Wei Shentong could interrupt, "if I win, then all my conditions stand. You will comply with them in full, and you will serve under me in court for ten years, so long as my commands remain within reason."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "That is the wager. What do you say?"

Wei Shentong's anger had not faded, but it had shifted, cooling into calculation. "…and since the terms of an official duel are binding in the eyes of the Immortal Emperor," he said slowly, "only a fool would break them… however, you do realize you will need to submit these terms formally to the court? Why go so far when a soul oath would serve just as well?"

Mo Jian let a trace of something raw – half honesty, half irritation – surface in his voice.

"Because I really want to punch you in the face," he said flatly.

Bai Ning nodded once, decisively, beside him.

Wei Shentong went still. For a moment, it looked as if something inside him might snap. His jaw clenched so tightly Mo Jian feared he might grind his teeth to dust. When he spoke again, each word came out measured, as if forced through restraint.

"You want to punch me?" he said. "Have you lost your mind over a couple of mortal whelps, Mo Jian? Or do you believe you possess some hidden trump card that will let you defeat me?"

"I don't," Mo Jian admitted without hesitation, the honesty landing heavier than any provocation.

"My trump cards aren't meant to be used on just anyone," he continued calmly. "No. I intend to fight you myself, with my own strength, and win. And yes," he added, "punch you in the face. Why, are you afraid?"

Wei Shentong let out a short, cold laugh. The fury remained, but contained now, sharpened into something almost contemptuous.

"There is no need to provoke me," he said. "Whatever confidence you are clinging to, I will crush it. I have been a Nascent Soul cultivator far longer than you have been alive, boy." His gaze turned sharp as a blade. "Good. This works in my favor. When I win, I will have everything I require, and your arrogance will be the reason you lost it all."

Above them, the line of sunlight had fully crossed the table, dividing the hall into two equal halves: one claimed by Wei Shentong, one by Mo Jian. The light, once gold, had deepened into amber-red as it filtered through the high windows. It fell across both men, and for a moment it seemed as if Bai Ning had been pushed entirely out of the world that existed between them.

The glow caught on Wei Shentong's jade coronet, fracturing into a hundred shifting shards of muted green.

Mo Jian did not reply.

Wei Shentong's hand came down on the table with a sharp slap as he rose. Then, almost as an afterthought, he turned his pale gaze on Bai Ning. "What about you, girl?" His voice carried a thin, cutting amusement. "Do you move in lockstep with your companion in all things, or is there still some glimmer of independent thought left in that pretty head?"

Bai Ning looked at him with the expression of someone who had found something unpleasant on the sole of her shoe. Her expression was cool, almost imperious, disgust sharpened into something precise.

"I have no interest in working with a cretin like you," she said evenly. "So this arrangement suits me just fine. Once you are defeated, I intend to ensure you repay, in full, every debt you have accumulated over the lives you've trampled."

She looked him in the eye. "A decade is not enough, but it is a beginning."

Wei Shentong's smile returned, tight, controlled, and unyielding. "I see. So even a junior like you has learned to speak boldly." Then his attention snapped back to Mo Jian. "I have a condition," he said sharply. "Accept it, or I leave, and this conversation never happened."

Mo Jian lifted a brow, idly turning his teacup between his fingers.

Wei Shentong pointed without hesitation. "She will fight as well." His finger landed on Bai Ning. "Two duels. Duan Cheng against her, and you against me. Only if both sides win does the wager stand. If either of you loses, neither side receives anything."

His voice hardened. "Since she insists on standing beside you, and has seen fit to insult me, she can stake her pride on it as well."

Mo Jian hesitated, the objection already forming-

But Bai Ning spoke first. "Agreed," she said at once. Then, without breaking eye contact with Wei Shentong, she added, "And as an additional condition, when Duan Cheng loses, he will forfeit all his wealth to me."

A stillness followed.

It was enough.

"Three days," Wei Shentong said at last, his words falling like the final toll of a mourning bell. "I will make the arrangements."

Then he turned and swept out without another word, without courtesy or looking back. The hall seemed to release a breath only after the doors had closed behind him, the sound of it fading into the high, sunlit air. Mo Jian and Bai Ning watched him leave in silence, neither moving to stop him nor bothering to speak. At last, Bai Ning sighed and flicked her wrist. A second chair manifested beside Mo Jian, and she lowered herself into it. But in the brief instant it took her to sit, Mo Jian had already-

"Are you seriously enjoying the tea gifted by that despicable man, Master?" she asked incredulously.

Mo Jian hastily set the cup down, as if caught in some crime. "It's good tea," he defended weakly. "Not drinking it would be a waste."

Bai Ning rolled her eyes so hard it looked almost painful. "After all that, this is what you focus on? If anyone else saw you, they'd lose all respect for you instantly."

Mo Jian smiled faintly. "Like I care what others think."

A pause lingered between them.

Then he said, more seriously, "Why did you agree so quickly? He might have yielded if we pressed further."

Bai Ning answered without hesitation. "Because I also want to punch him in the face." After a beat, her expression shifted; less sharp and more thoughtful. "Since I can't do that, Duan Cheng is a better target for me anyway." Her tone softened slightly. "But what about you, Master? This won't be a simple fight. You can't use the Netherworld Scorpion, and that man has been at the Nascent Soul realm for centuries. He was already at that level when he took over the mine."

She leaned forward, voice lowering. "At minimum, he has three centuries of cultivation over you, if not more. Even if he's not a prodigy, he's had time. You've just challenged someone like that to a duel… and on even footing."

Mo Jian only smiled, meeting the worry in her gaze.

"That's all true," he said calmly. "So what?" He leaned back slightly. "With the ambition we carry, the goals that brought us here, we can't afford the easy road. If I can't even defeat a Nascent Soul at the same stage, then what am I doing aiming for the court?"

He looked up. "I don't deny his advantages. Experience, time, resources - he has all of that. But I'm willing to wager everything that he has never fought someone like me in a duel to the death. He has never killed a Nascent Soul cultivator and taken their natal artifact into himself." His smile turned faintly wry. "But I have."

He tapped the table lightly. "So don't worry. I will win."

Then, after a beat, he glanced at her. "What about you? Think Duan Cheng is an easy opponent?"

Bai Ning scoffed. "I'm going to beat him black and blue and make him spend the rest of his life repaying every spirit stone he ever stole from anyone who entered his gambling den." Her eyes gleamed. "Never fear. I am amazing."

Mo Jian snorted. "In everything except humility, I see."

He picked up the empty teacup again, turning it idly between his fingers. The painted branches at its bottom had long since bloomed; they sat frozen in their flowering, patient and still. "Well," he said at last, lightly. "That's one advantage of bringing your friends over from the Islands. Perhaps they'll teach you some manners."

Bai Ning's pout was deeply undignified. Mo Jian decided, privately, that it was one of her better expressions.

Outside, the last of the amber light had faded from the windows, leaving only the pale cool of approaching dusk. The hall settled into stillness around them, quiet and waiting, as all things were, before a storm.

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AN: Is he being an idiot? Only time will tell, I suppose. But as he said himself, he really does want to punch Wei Shentong in the face.

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