The scratch of the Broker's quill had gotten irritating after the first ten minutes.

After twenty had passed, Jiang was reconsidering his stance on torture. By the time a whole hour had passed, he was instead considering the merits of throwing himself out of the window. It was only the second floor, so he'd be fine – probably – and it would at least be something interesting. There was only so much introspection he could handle, especially when it wasn't helping him come up with answers.

Or, at least, that was his excuse.

The Broker, for his part, seemed utterly immune. In what was either an incredible feat of nerve or the simple habit of someone used to waiting for more powerful people to arrive, the man had returned to his work and was acting as if he hadn't been negotiating for his life less than an hour ago.

Jiang had to wonder if it was just bravado, or if this sort of thing happened so frequently that the man had gotten used to it.

The time wasn't entirely wasted, of course. He'd tried adjusting his stealth technique as much as possible to cover his Qi signature and hopefully disguise the fact that he was a Pact-bearer. Unfortunately, he didn't really know how anyone could tell in the first place, and it was rather difficult to come up with a way to hide something when he didn't know what he was trying to hide.

Still, his technique felt a little 'firmer' – whatever that actually meant – and honestly, that was all he could realistically do about it. An unsettling amount of his plan amounted to 'hope for the best'.

The Broker's quill scratched onwards.

Despite his best efforts, Jiang's thoughts inevitably returned to what he was supposed to do about his cultivation affecting his mentality.

He wasn't a philosopher. He was a hunter who was, at best, in way over his head. But then… maybe that was an advantage. Hunters had rules, even if they didn't call them that. You didn't take a shot you couldn't make. You didn't wound for sport. You killed because you had to – either for the meat, or because the animal in question was a threat.

Maybe he was making this whole thing more complicated than it needed to be. Those rules had worked well for him so far, so why not just… expand the scope?

A line in the sand – one that wouldn't work in every situation, but it was at least a start. The obvious starting point was no killing unless it was out of necessity. Using the same rules he used for hunting meant killing in self-defence was fine, as was killing in defence of others, or… what was the equivalent of killing for food?

Jiang scowled thoughtfully into the carpet. Killing for resources? That felt far too broad, not to mention it was the definition of a slippery slope. Necessity, then? Lack of other viable options?

He sighed. Coming up with a perfect solution wasn't going to happen any time soon – especially because he felt like the killing itself was only a small part of the problem. He wasn't exactly a murderous person, even at the worst of times. No, the real problem was not being able to trust his other decisions. Like the way he'd handled the situation with Lin. Even now, he couldn't say that he'd made the wrong decision in charging right towards the Iron Dogs – danger or not – but that didn't mean it was the right decision either.

This… was going to be an ongoing issue.

The quill scratched on.

A soft, hesitant knock at the study door broke the silence. The guard captain from before entered, his face even paler than it had been when facing Jiang. He bowed low, not looking at Jiang, his eyes fixed on his master.

"Sir," he said, his voice a nervous hush. "Mistress Bai is here."

The Broker was on his feet in an instant, the calm, calculating facade replaced by one of respectful urgency. He smoothed the front of his robes and moved toward the door, his posture that of a man about to greet a visiting monarch. "Show her in, of course," he said, his voice a model of politeness.

The guard bowed again and backed out of the room. A moment later, Mistress Bai stepped through the doorway. The guard captain, who had escorted her to the door, gave a final, deep bow and pulled the doors shut, leaving the three of them in the sudden, heavy silence.

The Broker offered another, deeper bow. "Mistress Bai. My deepest apologies for summoning you on such short notice. A matter has arisen that concerns the stability of the city, which I know is of great importance to you."

She didn't deign to acknowledge Jiang beyond glancing briefly at him before her gaze swept over to—

Mistress Bai paused. Jiang tried not to sweat as he felt the faintest touch of her Qi sweeping over him.

"Cultivator Jiang," she said calmly, "you've advanced significantly since last we spoke."

Well, Jiang thought, clearly my stealth technique isn't doing nearly as well as I'd hoped.

Something indescribable flickered over her face for a brief second before she smiled. That, more than anything, sent a shiver of dread down his spine. Even if his technique was concealing the presence of the Pact, the last time she'd suspected he was advancing too quickly she'd all but held a knife to his throat as she confirmed he wasn't doing anything 'unorthodox'.

This was not the reaction he was expecting, and that made him very, very nervous. Still, he wasn't stupid enough to bring it up.

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"Tell me then," Mistress Bai said, turning to the Broker for the first time. "What is this matter of stability that you have summoned me for?"

"Well," the Broker began, straightening, "Cultivator Jiang and I are at somewhat of an impasse. I have some information that he needs, and I need to ensure that he doesn't simply kill me once he has it. We were hoping that your presence as mediator might allow us both to get what we want, so that we may part amicably and with no disruption to the city."

Mistress Bai didn't move, but Jiang felt the air in the room shift as she brought the full weight of her focus to bear on the Broker. To his credit, the man held up admirably.

"So you're telling me," she began, "that your life constitutes a matter of stability for the entire city?"

Left deliberately unspoken was the thought that she did not share that view.

"I believe that my death may disrupt several elements of trade in the city," the Broker said, choosing his words very carefully.

Mistress Bai's gaze lingered on him for a moment before she turned her head slightly, her eyes sliding back to Jiang. "And you? What do you believe, Cultivator Jiang?"

Jiang blinked. From the way the Broker stiffened, it was clear the man hadn't expected the Mistress to be interested in the specifics either. Worse, Mistress Bai actually seemed interested in his answer, her expression politely neutral but her attention sharp enough to cut glass. She wanted to hear his opinion—and that set alarm bells ringing in his head.

Still, he wasn't stupid enough to lie. He doubted he could get away with it in front of her, and even if he could, the Broker would likely call him out in the hope of shifting her favour. Honesty, then. Cold, blunt honesty.

"I think," Jiang said slowly, "that your death would be a benefit to almost everyone in the city. And the only people who will be disappointed are the slavers you've been working with. Which, as far as I'm concerned, is just another benefit."

The words came out harsher than he'd intended, enough that the shadows in the room stirred before he forced them still. Mistress Bai's lips curved faintly, amusement flickering across her face. Jiang was faintly unsettled by her smile – but he was more unsettled by the realisation that he meant every word of what he'd just said, and the heat in his tone wasn't entirely deliberate. He hesitated, wondering if that was the Pact pushing him again, but shook it off. No – being furious at slavers was perfectly normal. Pact or no Pact, he wasn't going to feel guilty about that.

The Broker, meanwhile, had gone very still. His hands curled against his desk before he forced them flat again, the effort visible. He was trying to look composed, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him.

"Well," Mistress Bai said lightly, breaking the silence, "it seems both of you are in agreement on one thing: trust is lacking. Very well. I will oversee your… arrangement. I will ensure the Broker does not lie, and I will ensure Cultivator Jiang does not kill him once the exchange is concluded."

Jiang gave a slow nod. The Broker's shoulders eased the tiniest fraction, though Jiang noticed his eyes narrow briefly, as if he'd caught some undertone that didn't sit right with him. If he had, he smothered it quickly.

"Then let us proceed," the Broker said, voice tight. He gestured towards the document he'd been working on before Mistress Bai arrived. "As you can see, I've prepared a written copy of the information, but I'll summarise to ensure we are all on the same page. The women and children taken from your village were sold to a group of slavers who operate out of the city of Biragawa. It lies beyond the Qingyun mountain range, and since the mountains are impassable for trade convoys, everything passes through the docks of Qinghe. I have included a copy of the manifest as proof."

Jiang stepped closer, scanning the names written there. His eyes snagged immediately on two: Xiaoyu and Xieren. His sister and mother.

"They were both purchased by a particular slaver in the group," the Broker went on, watching Jiang carefully. "One who deals with higher clientele. Minor nobles, wealthy merchants. Upmarket, you could say. For him to take both… unusual. It suggests they are valuable to someone, though I cannot say why. Still, it bodes well for their condition. Such clients expect their investments to be maintained."

Jiang's jaw clenched, but he said nothing. Mistress Bai tilted her head slightly, a flicker of something passing through her gaze as she studied him.

The Broker tapped the papers. "These notes include the slaver's name, some general details of his operation, and how to make contact with him in Biragawa. The province is far more… relaxed about such matters than Qinghe. Slavery there is simply business, as it is in most of the empire. You could walk up to this man openly, and he would receive you as any other prospective client."

Mistress Bai gave a small nod, as though confirming the point. "It is true. Qinghe clings to its 'new ideals' – something that's easier to get away with this far from the heart of the Empire – but the inner provinces lack such… sentimentality. Many independent cultivators choose the outskirts for the very same reason; fewer rules, fewer eyes."

The Broker slid the papers across the desk, his expression smoothing into something carefully polite. "That is the information you required. Our agreement is fulfilled. I trust, then, that you will take your leave?"

Jiang picked up the papers, carefully folding them once before tucking them into his robe. "You're a vile man," he said flatly.

The Broker's smile didn't waver, though his eyes hardened. "And yet a useful one." He gave a shallow bow toward Mistress Bai. "With your permission, Mistress, I believe this concludes our business."

"With cultivator Jiang, certainly," the Mistress said cooly.

The Broker paused. "Is there some other matter I can help you with?" he asked, voice cautiously pleased.

Jiang fought the urge to scowl openly. The idea that the Broker would just be going back to business as usual was… infuriating.

"In a way. After hearing the details of this matter, I find I agree with Cultivator Jiang's assessment," she said, her gaze still fixed on the Broker. "Your actions are not merely a matter of business. They are reprehensible."

The Broker froze. "Mistress, I assure you, my role in these affairs has been greatly exaggerated," he began, his voice taking on a slightly panicked note. "I am merely a facilitator, a necessity for the city's—"

She waved a hand, a gesture as casual and dismissive as brushing away a fly.

The Broker stiffened. His words cut off in a choked gasp. He stood perfectly still for a frozen heartbeat, his eyes wide with a final, profound surprise. Then, he slumped forward, his face landing on his desk with a soft, final thud. The only sign of any wound was a thin trickle of blood that began to seep from his ears, dark against his pale skin.

Jiang froze, his own hand dropping to the hilt of his sword, his heart hammering against his ribs. The sheer, effortless finality of the act was more terrifying than any fireball or flashy technique.

Mistress Bai turned her serene gaze to him, noticing his tension. A faint, almost playful smile touched her lips. "My word was that you would not kill him, Cultivator Jiang," she said to the unasked question. "I said nothing of myself." She tilted her head, her expression one of polite inquiry. "Are you truly disappointed that justice has been served?"

He opened his mouth, then shut it. Honesty again. "No."

"Good," she said, her smile widening slightly. She gestured back to the chair he had just vacated. "Sit."

It was not a request. He felt a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of her intent, a gentle but absolute pressure that made it clear he had no other choice. He walked back to the chair and sat, his own sword now feeling like a useless stick in his hands.

She watched him, her expression once again unreadable. "Now," she said, her voice dropping to a low murmur. "Let us talk about you."

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