Incomparable Tavern, Kaifeng

What a bluuur…

After a few drinks, the whole world started tipping sideways. Cheers muted into the background, muffled beneath the faint ringing in the ears. One moment there’s one face before you, then another -- and then, oh. There’s the pitch pot.

Yingzimò narrowed her eyes, hyper-focused as she lined the arrowhead up with her target. Another arrow had already thunked into the dirt beside her partner’s pot -- he had to be twenty points down by now. Which meant if she could land this one, she might walk away with her pride intact. Better yet, maybe even a little Wen.

With that much on the line, the young woman steadied herself, drawing a slow breath as she adjusted her aim. Just a notch higher--

Toss.

The arrow arced neatly through the air before dropping with a soft plink into the pot.

Another eruption of cheers rang from the crowd around the inn’s courtyard after such a long game. Many began to disperse to settle their bets, and spectators along the upper railing turned back to their tables just as the lanterns were being lit. Was it really sundown already?

Yingzimò received a few congratulations while she tried to keep wits about her; gentle bow and smile to show gratitude as some are coins shoved into her palm. “Xièxiè, xièxiè--

Ugh, I need to sit…”

Ye Yu has been watching the whole scene from a distance, amused by the small commotion caused by such activity. People were always down for a little bet and so was she. The thrill to, perhaps, becoming richer just thanks to luck... But fortune wasn’t on her side this day. With a pout, she reluctantly handed her coins to her neighbor -no dessert tonight-, before approaching the pitch pot player, willing to push her luck a bit further.

“What a nice game, don’t you think?
Whether you win or lose the round
You’re still enjoying a drink
And now, wen coins you hear the sound.”

She stopped a few steps away from the winner. To respect her personal space or in fear she would throw up? Maybe a bit of both.

“You should really eat something
Just drinking isn’t healthy
A meal at the inn, should I bring?
Roasted ducks do are tasty.”

With one hand cradling her pounding head and the other loosely clutching her well-earned coin, Yingzimò lifted her gaze toward the woman who had approached. The crowd thinned enough that the swirl of faces no longer divided her attention, and for a fleeting moment the world ceased its spinning.

Had the woman been speaking in rhyme… or was that merely the wine playing tricks on her ears?

“Roast duck, you said?” she murmured. “That sounds... amazing. Yes, please.”

She swayed a step to the right, a little off-balance but she hadn’t toppled over yet, and her foot brushed the sheathed blade resting on the ground. With a languid bend of her waist and dangling arms, she retrieved it and carried it at her side. When she straightened again, she offered the woman a warm, if slightly unfocused, smile.

“Do you have-- hic-- a table?”

“A table for two, for sure!
For your drunkenness, let’s order a cure
It’s just over there, do you need my hand?
The floor’s pretty hard, if you ever land” she talked in her rhythmic way, offering the swaying woman a helpful hand while waving at the staff and mouthing some instructions to them.

“A weapon, is that?
Martial artist, perhaps?” she asked, curious, her gaze running up and down on the not-so-stable person.

“You’re good for some drunken man style, I believe.
Come. From hard earned money, let’s have yo-... us relieved.”

The tavern gradually slipped back into its usual rhythm once the excitement of the pitch-pot game faded. From the kitchens drifted the rich aroma of sizzling meat and spices, wafting in on warm air into the courtyard. Above, somewhere on the second floor, the soft notes of a guqin could be heard. And at Ye Yu’s instruction, the attendants hurried off to their duties.

Yingzimò was grateful for the offered support, but she dared not lean on it too heavily. Too much dependence might make her look weak in the eyes of the men who had wagered against her — and she had a reputation to maintain.

Her composure lasted only until they reached the table.

The moment she sat down, the young woman all but melted onto the bench — if she could be like liquid, she would have been. Steel clinked faintly as the fittings of her sword knocked together, and silk collapsed around her in an undignified heap. With deliberate care, she placed the sword aside and rested it against the table’s edge.

Her gaze lingers on the weapon briefly, with the question on replay in her mind.

“Mhm yes, I suppose you might call me a martial artist. I… am working here for now,” she admits with a slight flush to her cheeks.

“You’re quite good at that. Those rhymes of yours, do they come to you naturally?”

Ruyi was present in the tavern. Her strange ethereal disposition and fickle mindset had led her into this tavern, simply because she was bored and hungry. She drifted towards the counter to order when she noticed the pitch pot set up. Even with the game over, she decided to investigate. “Hrm..” she knelt down. She has seen the game before, but never tried it out herself.

“My rhymes? Oh, true !
Those are just my thoughts, going through
Kind of a habit, I guess
When you’re used to entertain your guests” she answered, guiding the young woman to her seat after a short navigation between more or less animated tables.

She watched with an amused face how the pit pitch winner melted on the table, now a puddle of fine fabric, and, as carefully as her guest, she put down her own weapons on her bench by her side: a guqin and a konghou. If Yingzimò was a martial artist, Ye Yu was only the latter.

“Working here? In this inn?
We may be colleagues for the night!” she rejoiced, clapping in her hands.

“Will you be alright working if your world spin?
What is your duty? I can’t tell by sight...” she continued, pouring two glasses. Water? Of course not.

Her bichromatic eyes catched the silhouette of another guest, kneeling down by the game area.

“Either someone’s doubtful of your victory
Or you have a new opponent ready” she added nonchalantly.

Ruyi rose and saw the duo stare. She effortlessly glided (proverbially over) “congratulations on your victory.” She said simply. “I have seen a few pitch pot contests… would you by any chance be open to…participating with me? I may have seen them yes… but never participated.”

Her eyes were filled with a curiosity. She really wants to play. An eagerness was in her eyes despite her… mature look and outfit. Was she just a child a heart perhaps?

Ye Yu needed no instrument to amuse Yingzimò; her manner of speech was enough to draw forth the woman’s giggle-snorts. Yet it was the wine that truly muddled her senses. Even as she watched the entertainer fill her cup, she offered no protest, her hand already reaching forward by habit.

She lifted the cup, and for a perilous instant, it seemed it might slip and scatter its contents over the floor, but she maintained control.

“Gānbēi!” she cried, expressive but unsteady, and before any proper toast could be made, she tossed the drink back in one reckless swallow.

She resurfaced with a low groan, pressing the back of her hand to her lips. “Unless someone draws a weapon— hic— I doubt I shall be required. Yay to co-workers!”

Her eyes narrowed as she struggled to gather her focus on Ye Yu’s words. Another contestant? The notion took its time. With determination, she twisted her body around and settled lazily on her forearm, facing Ruyi.

A moment of inebriated contemplation passed.

“…Sure!” she declared, with a smile tugging at her lips. “But first you must sit and share a cup with us. After that, we may play. We’ll keep the rules simple.”

She lifted her chin, and added with belated formality to the group, “I am Yingzimò.”

“Yingzimò, let’s have a toast to your victory
And the next one to come, maybe?”

She smiled and pulled a little journal from her bag, noting a few words and sketching for a minute, her eyes alternating between the good drinker and her page. She eventually put down her book to empty her cup, before pouring three more this time, waving at Ruyi, inviting her to sit with them.

“If you want to play with our champion
You’ll have to catch them up at drinking
After all, you should fight with equal weapons
We would not tolerate anyone cheating!”

She pushed the cup in front of a free seat, for their new drinking buddy.

“Yóu Yún is my name
I’ll be playing tonight
But not your kind of game!
For your ears, I hope to play a delight?” she hinted, pointing at the second floor from where music was still echoing softly, muffled by the surrounding noise and discussions.

Despite the habit of reaching for a freshly poured cup, Yingzimò would hold back to allow Ruyi a chance to catch up, and perhaps even offer her own cup instead.

Somewhere along the night’s flow, she had long since lost count of how many cups had passed her lips.

“Yóu Yún speaks true,” she agreed with a soft laugh, tilting her head toward Ruyi. “--Else you’ll be at quite the advantage.”

Her attention soon drifted back to the entertainer. A bright smiled tugged at her features. She lifted her hand in an eager beacon, encouraging her to play. “Please! What finer way to savor wine with music and good company?”

For a fleeting moment, her head sort of just hangs there, like a puppet on slack strings. An indulgence of wine, indeed.

She’ll be okay. Probably.

Ruyi nodded quietly. “As you wish. I am Ruyi.” She said simply. She sat down on the stool beside the two and looked them up and down.

“Your a poet?” She questioned Ye Yu. “I dabble in an instrument.” She explained. “I did not being it with me. I felt it was ill advised.”

“A poet, storyteller,
Musician, but no dancer!” she answered joyfully, pushing the wine bottle to their new guest.

“You’re an artist too! We should make a performance some day!
Let us know, which instrument do you play?”

Her eyes drifted to her own ones, assessing her two companions, before adding:

“I may lend you my guqin
To meet new people, he’s very keen.”

Raising her hand, she called the inn’s staff to order a set of snacks and the promised meal -roast duck wish asparagus-.

The young warrior still appeared lifeless in her seat-- at least by first glance. Black hair spilled forward to veil her face, and it seemed like a small miracle that she remained upright at all.

Only when Ye Yu ordered the roast duck that she took in a deep breath of life and comes back to, awareness returning to her eyes.

She brushed aside a few stray strands of hair and inclined her head, as though her mind had never drifted. “Yes, what instrument do you play? I am not so gifted like yourselves, but I can dance-- not... not that I should now.”

“Yóu Yún… do you have a song?”

“I do play the Guqin.” Ruyi confirmed. “I’ve never stopped learning. it is a journey in a way... I do wish i could amaze more with techniques for it.” She said wistfully. “Like i was when i started... I suppose it is depending on who the melody reaches doesn’t it?” she stares at her cup and carefully sips at it.

“I always feel like... I’m missing something. There is a void. An imbalance. A yearning to master my craft... And to see other things... Beyond the Jianghu for instance...”

“A song? Mhhh... Let me see...
Yet, I’ve to warn you: entertaining isn’t free.”

She pushed her bench back and pulled her guqin on her lap, looking at the ceiling for inspiration. Then, a note, two, a little, simple melody echoed in the mild hubbub, some nearby tables turning silent to silent to the performance.

“No one has ever sang her name
Unknown fighter with no fame!
She does wonders at archery!
But none witnessed her mastery.

But tonight...!

She had the world spinning around!
She left the whole crowd astound!
Tonight!
Our town welcome a new hero
Who goes by the name of Yingzimò!”

The last note dimmed with her last verse. She put her instrument away and poured herself a new glass.

“Dare to continue the performance?” she asked, eyes locked on Ruyi.
“And don’t forget to empty your cup
Pitch pot isn’t a mere game of luck
It’s all about impairment.”

Yingzimò listened to Ruyi with surprising attentiveness for someone so deep in her cups, nodding along solemnly at each word. She proved just as equally diligent in another regard, and that was keeping Ruyi’s cup refilled the moment it might hit the table.

“Mastery takes time,” she said, tone warm despite the slur in her words. “And who says you must choose? You can still walk the path of your craft, and roam beyond the Jianghu. The world is vast... there’s many sights to behold, and melodies unheard-- hic...”

Her gaze drifted toward Ye Yu as the gentle scrape of bench legs caught her ear, and the soft notes of her guqin followed.

Yingzimò listened with an easy smile at first, listening to the story within the song. When recognition dawned that the story was her own, she cheered her on and tipped back another cup in one fluid motion.

“You’re making me blush,” she hiccups. “But beautifully done! For such songs, I’ll see that the food and drink are covered.”

Ruyi nodded again. “As you wish. What will I receive for victory?” She asked. But she didn’t wait for a response. She wrapped her hands around her cup and took a slow careful tip down her throat, drinking it all. She slammed the cup down and let off a tipsy giggle. It worked a little stronger on her for some reason, maybe it was because she wasn’t used to a high concentration of libations.

“Ah! You speak like a true winner
Offering a feast for your followers!
Then, it can’t be helped. Xiongdi!”

She called out a waiter, skimming through the menu, her finger stopping on multiple lines.

“We’ll have all those, please be fast, I-, we’re hungry!”

She replaced her bench near the table and offered her patron a warm smile, already licking her lips in anticipation for the expensive-but-not-for-her meal to come.

“I do hope your purse is as big as your generosity!
What about you, Ruyi?
Please, help yourself and order, tonight, it’s free!”

She handed over the menu, taking a closer look at the girl while she leaned over.

“I like your spirit, we’ll talk about rewards later
You’re still two bottles behind our actual pitch-pot winner!”

She considered the young artist’s words, her expression slightly shifting to a more serious one.

“Mastering your craft, exploring the world,
You should listen to Yingzimò’s wise words.
How can one truly call themselves Masters
If nothing they’ve seen other than their garden’s asters?

But...

Travelling the Jianghu? Very dangerous!
To protect yourself from barbarous
A hand with a sword could be marvelous~” she sang, her eyes drifting on Yingzimò and her sheathed blade.

There goes her hard-earned Wen…

The words “free meal” rattled through her mind like a temple bell that had been struck one too many times, and each reverberation listed the delicacies off the menu. Pride, that sly inner demon, had seized the moment, urging her to appear impressive for her fellow wanderers.

So be it. This night was all about fun, and coin could be earned again tomorrow— once the hangover was gone, that is.

She lifted her cup to Ye Yu and Ruyi in a gesture of camaraderie, then put it to her lips only to find it was as dry as her purse was going to be by the end of the night. With a soft exhale, she set it down on the table beside the bottle.

“Mmm… yes. Order as you please,” she confirms, head hung slightly to the side as she reached to refill her cup.

“I’ll pray for my coffers in the morning…”

As Ye Yu spoke of the dangers of the Jianghu, Yingzimò would offer a slow nod. Her free hand wandered absently to the hilt of her sword, resting there for a moment.

“Assassins at night, bandits in the hills, evil men and hungry beasts that prowl the wilds,” she murmured. “One never knows what awaits you out there in strange places.”

Ye Yu raised an amused eyebrow at Yingzimò’s last sentence, or should we say, rhyme. She had noticed her way of speaking was quite contagious and here was another example, even if it could also be just mere coincidence.

She swiftly grabbed the bottle of wine before the swordwoman could reach it and diligently served her. It was the basic rules for an entertainer: her guests should never have to worry about refilling their cups! She emptied the container to its last drop. It wasn’t a problem, others were on the way with a gargantuan meal keeping the cooks busy: Foo Young Clams, steamed pork, crispy pheasant, egg custard soup... Was it to share or only for the songstress' palate?

While waiting for the main course (or was it only appetizers?) to arrive, she turned toward the generous patron again, inviting her to speak:

“You seem quite aware of what’s in the Jianghu, Master
Are you familiar with the world of lakes and rivers?
Do you have exhilarating stories for us to hear?”

With her cup of wine filled to the brim, Yingzimò leaned back on the bench, refusing the need to slouch. Her gaze drifted sideways as the servers returned, setting down dish after dish until the table was steaming with delicacies.

It was a sobering moment as she watched with slight detachment-- witnessing the slow bleed of her coin purse in real time. Though, she was partially in awe just as well, rarely having seen such excess laid out before her as anything but a distant observer. Still, she was happy to allow her acquaintances to indulge.

A faint pinch creased her brow when Ye Yu urged her to tell a tale. Then, just as quickly, it smoothed and she allowed a lop-sided smile tug at her lips. She swayed slightly where she sat, head dipping over her cup as she took another slow drink.

Fortunately, she did not lob forward into the feast.

“Stories...” she murmured, her tone carrying a hint of amusement. “What sort would please you?” Her fingers tapped on the cup. “A tale of joy? Or one of sorrow? Or perhaps something chilling?”

Her gaze lifted with a slight gleam.

“I’ve a few up my sleeves, depending on the mood...”

Ruyi merely requested dumplings. She wasn’t that hungry. However she was very tipsy. “I do not think I will be in a pitch pot position... Hehehe...” She giggled at her three word alliterarion. “If I.. hic. Had one more...”

Then the idea came to her head. “you are of the Well of Heaven?” She questioned.

Ye Yu wriggled with unabashed excitation. Her Geji facade slightly broke, letting her inner child surfaces, eyes gleaming. Stories! She loved stories. And she could even choose? She was a sucker for romance, but maybe something would be more appropriate for the current atmosphere.

“Today is about celebration!
Your victory, until you challenge Ruyi
No sorrow should come from narration
Joy! We should listen to you with glee!”

What a wonderful night was about to begin! She may have lost her initial bet but the actual rewards were far greater than a few Wen. She pulled a first dish towards her, ready to be lulled by Yingzimò’s tales, when Ruyi’s question came out. Well of Heaven? Surely she was asking the swordwoman.

“You sure aren’t used to drinking, are you?” she commented, amused.
“And yet, you drank so few.”

“Well of Heaven?” She gave a small shake of her head, a hint of amusement touching her eyes. “No... I don’t belong to any well-known sect. Though I can see how you might think so...”

Her gaze drifted across the vast array of food laid on the table.

For now, she contented herself with her wine, proceeding to take slower sips while waiting eagerly for the roast duck, even if it meant enduring the parade of appetizers first.

Joy, joy, joy...

She paused on the thought. Of all things, sometimes joy was the hardest to recount. Scary stories came easier; romance did just as well.

A little time passed as she tries to come up with a tale. Whether it was true or not, was up to the audience:

...

“The first time I left home, I traveled with my uncle into the Jianghu.
It was early spring, and the peach blossoms had just begun to bloom.

We rode for days with little rest and less to eat. By the time the sun had gone down one evening, I was sore, hungry, and in poor spirits.

Then we found a steam... and along it, lanterns drifting on the water.

They led us to a riverbank filled with people.

Finely dressed, laughing, celebrating as if in the middle of a grand festival.

They welcomed us without question, gave us food and wine, and pulled us into their dancing.

Music, firelight, lion dancers... and petals falling though no wind blew. The river itself seemed to glow, and spirit money lay scattered across the ground.

It was the liveliest night I had ever known.

But when we awoke, it was all gone.
No people. No lanterns. No feast.
Only an empty riverbank.”

She took a sip of her wine and drew in a breath.

“My uncle said we must have wandered into something not meant for the living. But I still remember the taste of the wine.”

Ye Yu, seeing at how Yingzimò was eyeing the parade of dishes, pushed the plate of clams in her direction.

“Please help yourself” she said generously, offering a meal she hasn’t paid for. “You too, Ruyi, don’t be shy. It may also help if you’re not very used to drinking.”

As the fighter started her story, she leaned on the table, head resting on the palm of her hands, listening like a girl would listen to their parents or grandparents' stories before going to bed.

At the passage about the night festival, her face brighten with a renewed excitement.

“Lovely! You’re so lucky!
I do love festivals! Especially aestival!
Even if... Does it mean you’ve seen ghosts?
With them, I’d still be so scared to have a toast...”

A little shiver ran through her body as she thought about her mixed feelings: on one hand, her favourite events, on the other, one of her biggest fear.

“How did the wine taste like?
As good as Parting Tears?
I’d go on a thousand miles hike
Just to have a few more bottle, spare...”

She went into a short reverie, absentmindledly eating her egg custard soup.

“For how long have you been in the Jianghu?
Are you here, on a simple stop, before returning to more adventures?
Or are you settling down in a safer life, tired of the wilderness to venture
As your dreams already came true?”

“As fine as Parting Tears,” she said at last. “I might dare say it was even better...”

Yingzimò lingered a moment, gaze drifting over the spread. Finally, she set aside her wine and gathered a plate, sampling a little of everything.

“When my uncle first told me, I dismissed him,” she went on, voice lowering some. “But now... I believe they were spirits. Gentle ones, at least.” A faint smile curved her lips, softening the tale for Ye Yu’s sake.

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and took a bite. The moment the rice touched her tongue, her eyes closed in bliss as a warmth spread through her, tempering the haze of all the wine.

“I’ve wandered a little with my Master after our initial studies,” she continued after swallowing, “and picked up a handful of stories along the way. But nothing like the great heroes of the Jianghu.” A glance was spared around the tavern. “This is my first true commission. Until another patron lays claim to my name, this is where my path begins.”

“Better? Impossible” she responded categorically.“There can’t be such beverage! You must-”

The waiter arrived with another plate. The so-long awaited roasted duck was still steaming, skin glistering and deliciously crispy, laid on white rice with asparagus. Ye Yu was still cleaning her egg custard soup bowl but the aroma wafted up to their noses and for a time, she just froze, looking at the hot dish. Yummy....

“... What was I saying? The duck stole my thoughts.
Anyway! If in the Jianghu you fought
Why not taking Ruyi as a disciple?
You could show her the ropes and continue the cycle
... Assuming she fancies the idea, of course!
Pairing you two, I would not want to force.”

She glanced at the tipsy young lady, then at the traveler.

“Are you some kind of mercenary?
How much do you charge for your services? Have you ever worked for free?”

Yingzimò was already halfway lost to the wine, quietly working through some of the food set out before her, when the roast duck finally arrived. Her cheek rested lazily against her fist-- elbow planted on the table in no proper way-- yet she made no effort to correct herself. Holding her head upright felt like more effort than it was worth.

Then the aroma reached her.

Her eyes opened and she perked up, straightening somewhat, and reached for the carving knife. The motion was not graceful. Her sleeve dragged, and her grip wavered for a moment... yet, when steel met crispy flesh, the cuts came out clean and precise.

A small, lazy smile tugged at her lips.

“I fear Lady Ruyi would find me a poor master,” she admits. “A master ought to be wise.”

Her gaze drifted toward Ye Yu, and she dipped her head in a loose bow. A few strands of hair fall in front of her face.

“Yes. I belong to a trained order,” she said, pausing to sort through her thoughts. “Through the temple, we take contracts. The more lucrative ones are reserved for greater experience... but I am permitted to seek my own work.”

She sat back, exchanging the knife for her cup. “I do not usually work without payment. Though, I suppose that depends on the task.”

A faint tilt of her head followed.

“Is there someone in need of such services?”

Ye Yu glanced again at the now silent Ruyi. Food, alcohol or the combination of the two seemed to have got the better of her. Was she asleep? Digesting? Sick? Dead? It was surely a better idea to leave her alone to rest. She would wake up eventually. Leaving her with a smile, the songstress focused all her attention to her only remaining conversation partner.

Her mouth was watering with all the meat’s aroma coming from the just cut duck. She picked a crispy pheasant cake and took a bite, considering the last question for a time. Then, she leaned a bit over the table to get closer to the food Yingzimò.

“I’d never say no to some pleasant company during my travels
Unfortunately, to pay your services, I’m a bit short on gold, Wen or jewels...
Moreover...
Moreover, unless you like hikes, scenery and poetry
Why would such a skilled warrior burden herself with someone like me?
Unless...
Unless they want someone to know their complete story,
Someone who will later recount their past glory?”

She left her question hanging in the air, raising an eyebrow while biting in her crispy cake again.

The warm dishes steadied her stomach, sobering her senses a little. Yet the wine was delicious and far too inviting to refuse. She drank another cup before setting it aside to tear into a strip of crispy duck, savoring the flavors.

Across from her, she listened curiously to Ye Yu while the faint melody of an instrument played from the second floor. The tavern had grown livelier since dusk; voices rose and fell, cups clinked, and the scent of roasted meats filled the air.

Her question gave Yingzimò pause. Though the wined heated her veins, she did not answer lightly.

“A companion on the road doesn’t need gold between them,” she said, tone thoughtful. “It might even prove fun. Besides, there are ways for coin to be earned...”

“Though, I wonder,” she added with a hint of amusement and a smile, “between the two of us... who would be more trouble? Do you often find yourself in need of a swordsman?”

“Hush! What are you insinuating?” she retorted, half-pouty, half-amused, swallowing the rest of her crispy meat cake.

“In a need of a swordman, never! All I need is someone clever!
And... someone who can run fast.. people don’t always fancy the verses I cast” she admitted with a mischievous smile.

“You seem to value the travel over the destination
Maybe you and me would make a good combination?
But before considering traveling together,
Tell me, how far you’ve got at this point, Sister?”

Her eyes where observing Yingzimò with a growing curiosity, her every gesture, from how she was handling her knife to how she was bringing the food to her lips. Or maybe was she just interested in the duck being slowly cut and savored.

Yingzimò lets out a soft snicker at Ye Yu’s retort, lowering her gaze and she hides behind the rim of her cup. She gives a small shake of her head, as if conceding any further teasing.

Amusement lingers in her eyes as she listens and absently gathers more food onto her plate. It seems she had a far bigger appetite than she expected.

“The destination does not matter much,” she said. “There is no single place that calls to me-- not yet. Perhaps out there lies more opportunities... a guard at this tavern is a start but... Hm.”

She gives a lazy shrug, not lingering long on the thought.

“As for how far I’ve travelled...? Not so far as some might boast. I spent many years among the northern mountains. It’s only been a few weeks since I’ve returned to Kaifeng.”

“No place that calls to you?
Why then wandering in the Jianghu?
Aren’t you looking for treasures, fame or lovers?
Any martial arts or secret technique to increase your power?” she asked, now forgetting about the meal -or maybe was she full-. Shifting on her bench, she moved her instruments away to get closer to Yingzimò, the discussion being now her primary pastime.

“Maybe... For a first mission, would you be interested in traveling nearby?
“I’m willing to go to Gracetown, I’ve been told there was a stage and some festivities
Arts! Music! Earning some Wen to spend on stands! It’s wonderful, don’t you agree?
Maybe there would even be something you would like to buy?”

Her eyes were gleaming with excitement as she spoke, the same that was already there when she was listening to her dinner companion’s story.

“Of course, there would not be any payment
Only good memories, experience and entertainment!”

The wine had loosened Yingzimò tongue more than she would ever allow in sobriety, and Ye Yu’s questioning only fanned the embers. On any other day, she would be like a blade kept sheathed-- far more silent and guarded. Yet tonight, after all the cups and pitch-pot, all that discipline hammered into her was gone like the leaves in the wind.

“A sense of adventure, perhaps,” she said in a thoughtful manner. “There is someone I seek... though I know neither their face or location. They are not a friend. And, like most wanderers, I do need to continue to hone my skills...” There was no mirth in her voice, but she offered a shrug with a touch more pep. “Until I find a lead, I let the road choose.”

She leaned back from the table, fingers resting idly against her cup, though she made no move to drink. Her eyes lift to Ye Ye with a faint grin.

“Gracetown?” she echoed. “It has been ages since I’ve been there. And festivities are always exciting. Do you think you will play there?”

If it had not been the wine, Ye Yu would have found many other ways to loosen the guard’s tongue, but for tonight, drinks and meals were sufficient but also shareable and enjoyable. A win-win situation (or should we call it “a wine-win” one?). She listen with rasp attention to their drunken confession, nodding and wondering.

“Someone... but not a friend. Are you also a bounty hunter?
Or, as a friend I know, maybe a revenge seeker?
Maybe it is someone I’ve already met?
Dare to describe that mysterious target?” she asked in a low, almost conspiratorial tone, before completing on a more jovial one:

“Playing there? For sure!
In all Kaifeng, if I could, I would do a whole tour!
How do you expect me to pay for food and goodies?
... Ooooh! Unless... Are you going to extend your generosity?”

She offered her a large, teasing grin.

Yingzimò lowered her gaze as her brows drew together in thought. The question lingered on her mind for a moment, seemingly difficult to answer.

“An evil man... at least, my Order proclaims,” she said, voice soft so that this conversation would not leave their table. “A schemer who hides his fangs behind a silk veil, and a monster driven by old grudges. I suppose you could say I, too, walk a path of vengeance, but...”

A distant smile touched her lips, and she shook her head lightly. “I am no legendary hero. My blade is still untested. The road stretches beyond my sight.”

She lifted the cup and drained it in one go, as if to drown out the weight of her words.

Then, with a soft laugh, her demeanor changed-- more joyful and amused. With a flick of her wrists, she reveals the emptiness within her sleeves.

“Were there still more coin hidden within, I would gladly say yes,” she mused. “But I fear this meal has bled my purse dry until my next stipend. Surely with your music and wit, you will be paid generously.”

“Oh, you know... Unless you’re a Flower Messenger
Arts aren’t a lucrative career theretofore.
But! It’s a good way to have patrons paying for your meals” she pointed out with malice.
“Sometimes, more than their purses, their heart your can steal.“*

She quickly checked on Ruyi but the girl was still silent, likely completely drunk.

“Poor child won’t be able to test her skills...
Tell, me... For tonight, do you fancy some more thrills?”

She left her bench to join Yingzimò on her side, helping herself to a small piece of duck from the guard’s plate.

“Mhh~ Tasty. Sooo, 'no legendary hero', why not trying your luck once more?
A name for yourself, you won’t make one by staying here, throwing out drunk boors.
Let’s gamble your future over another pitch pot duel, what do you think?
If I win, you’ll be my bodyguard for a year for free. Too much? A month, fine.
But, like our little companion over there, if I cannot withstand the drink...
Mmmmh... I don’t know. Name your price. Maybe next time, I’ll be the one inviting you to dine?”

“Hmph... I see,” she murmured, huffing in amusement.

It did not escape her to notice that she herself was among those free-spending patrons, but what use was money if not to enjoy it?

Her gaze flicked toward Ruyi, lingering just long enough to see if she was still breathing before drifting back-- only to see Ye Yu boldly pluck a slice of meat from her plate. Of all the dishes laid out, she still chose to steal from hers.

Unbothered, she raised her cup and took another sip, listening idly as the performer made her bargain. At Ye Yu’s first proposal, she nearly choked, the wine catching in her throat. A month, at least, was far less outrageous. Her widened eyes slowly eased.

Her price... what could it be? Nothing she dared name so bold or brazen. Yet perhaps another feast would suffice-- modest, fair... and faintly nice.

She squints and shakes a rhyme out of her head.

“Hm... if you win, I will serve as your guard for one month,” she agreed. “But if I win, perhaps you could treat me to some better wine and accompany me for an afternoon stroll through the flower gardens of Revelry Hall.”

“I’ve heard good things,” she added lightly, offering a casual shrug.

“That’s... An interesting request” she pondered, eyes drifting to the stars hidden by the ceiling, a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

“Now, I don’t know whether I’m more inclined to winning or losing! Smart move!
Fine! No more bets, time to cast some arrows!
Of you and me, whose brow will furrow?
Was your victory down to skill or luck? Your worth, it’s time to prove!”

Plucking a last piece of duck, she stood up, gathered her instruments -leaving them unattended was out of question- and grabbed the bottle of wine.

“We should let her sleep some more” she mentioned, looking at the sleeping girl. “Maybe she’ll join us right on time while we’ll be challenging each other. Then, we’ll find more bets to spice up the game! For now... Come, it’s time for you to become my new employee!”

Yingzimò inclined her head in a sagely manner, setting aside the empty cup.

“Sounds fun, does it not?” she said, as a knowing smile tugged at her lips.

The warrior watched as Ye Yu pilfered another morsel from her plate. Then, she too, would claim a small bite for herself before rising, and...

whoosh...

The world tilted beneath her feet.

Oh, the consequences of indulgence. Even the heartiest meal would not be able to temper the wine. She steadied herself, hands resting on the table’s edge as everything churned. Ye Yu’s voice drifted in and out of her ears, blood rushing through her head.

Her gaze passed slowly over her companions before settling on her blade resting nearby. With care, she retrieved it and slung it through her belt.

After a brief moment of stillness, she exhaled, gathering whatever balance she could muster. And when she felt as though walking in a semi-straight line was accomplishable, she’d head over with Ye Yu to the pitch-pot.

“I believe you’re looking for a different word,” she mused. “An employee would imply compensation.”

“.... Oh? Well... If you ask for it, then... I won’t mind if your willing to be my slave!” she laughed. “Will you be alright? Please don’t throw up your meal on me, for you’d not be able to afford the cleaning and it would be such a waste! Alright! Here’s the pitch pot! I think I’ll just... Catch you up! Please don’t be upset if I don’t share!”

With a theatrical move, she drained the bottle in one go, finding the last few sips particularly hard to swallow.

“Eww. Not savouring it is also a waste...”

She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, and suddenly slapped her forehead.

“Oh... I forgot I was supposed to play later... Snap! I should have wait... Well, it’s too late!”

She bent down to retrieve the arrows, trying to hide a growing unsteadiness. With slow, measured movements, she handed over the game’s darts to her opponent.

“Winner first.” she invited.

A few steps in, Yingzimò’s balance betrayed her; she caught herself against a doorframe, tightening her grip around the wood as the corridor seemed to sway. She offered a steady, but slightly delayed nod-- assuring Ye Yu that she would be alright.

By the pitch-pot, she braced herself along the stones of the well, grounding her while the world spun lazily at the edges of her vision. From above, she sensed a few patrons gathering at the upper gallery to witness the spectacle. Perhaps they had a better chance at winning bets this round.

Yingzimò turned back to Ye Yu, a funny smile at her lips. “Perhaps you could still play?” she said lightly. “Call it a new melody-- say the off notes are part of the art.”

With a short bow of her head, she took the darts and turned to the pitch-pot, drawing in a slow breath to steady her qi, and fixed her gaze on the target. The pot seemed to tilt, drifting left and slowly turning on its axis--

Nope. That was her.

Her breath hitched in her throat, and she quickly rooted her stance after the wobble.

She then snapped her arm forward, letting the dart fly...

(( I rolled elsewhere if you want to do best 2 out of 3! This was my roll: # 13 Details:[1d20 (13)] ))

(( I rolled 16 using google dice (did you know such thing exist?!) )

Ye Yu could not refrain a long laugh. Alcohol was starting to loosen her inhibitions, her playful side coming to the fore and, given Yingzimò state, the game was a foregone conclusion, she thought! She was already wondering where she could travel with her new companion, who could carry all her luggage and defend her from beasts of all kinds. What a good idea it was to come to this inn tonight! She continued to laugh when her opponent suggested to play on stage despite being drunk.

“I do believe that even in the drunkest state, people can still make the difference between a nice song and a cat being killed!” she giggled. “Only me would be oblivious to the terrible spectacle it would be. Stop saying nonsense and plant this arrow into the ground, I can’t wait for you to pay my inn room too!”

Silencing herself to let Yingzimò focus, her eyes followed the arrow in the air. The stakes were not that high, yet, she felt a surge of adrenaline in her veins. Hit or miss? ...

((Yeah! Google dice is handy!))

A faint plink rang out beside the clay wine pot. Yingzimò’s gaze, however, drifted low in an unfocused manner, pointed towards the ground below her feet.

“--pay my inn room too...” The words rattled around in her brain. Surely, the innkeeper would have her head later with all this debt she now owed-- or will owe.

“Did I... make it?” she slurred, finally lifting her head.

The arrow dart laid pitifully at the base of the pot, its tip touching dirt rather than the mark. That fleeting sound had been nothing more than it glancing off the side.

Zero points for her.

She let out a soft laugh, carelessly waving a hand. “Ah... it seems my aim is not quite what it was earlier. Did the pot move?”

With a lazy flick of her wrist, she passed the darts to Ye Yu. “Here, your turn.”

“Let me show you how it’s done” she said with a confident voice, getting one arrow from Yingzimò’s hand before positioning herself at the correct distance. One foot on the line, the other one step behind. Shoulders lined with her body, relaxed. Eyes locked on the target. Fingers delicately holding the dart’s body in the middle for the best balance.

She inhaled and exhaled, three times.

Then, locked her breathing.

Listen to the wind.

Felt the earth rotation.

The moon’s attraction field.

The flap of a butterfly’s wind in Europe, causing a disturbance in the atmosphere.

The arrow flew.

Perfect curve in the air, flying to the pot, flying over it, flying past it. And sank into the ground, three feet away, without even touching it’s target.

Ye Yu stood still for a few seconds, silent, before turning to her opponent.

“See? That’s how you did it and that’s not how you’re supposed to!” she lectured, trying to be serious... before bursting into laughter.

(( It’s was a fabulous... 10!

Yingzimò was certain Ye Yu would make the shot. She could almost feel the woman’s qi radiating from her.

She held her breath, silently pleading for mercy on her purse. Her eyes tracked the dart as it soared-- too high, surely it would dip, it would fall true...

No. It sailed clean over the pot.

Yingzimò exhaled, a strange mix of disappoint and relief loosening her chest. At least now they were equal.

At Ye Yu’s jest, she pressed her lips together, shooting her a despondent look. “Oh, suuure,” she drawled with a playful challenge. “Then let’s see you do it the right way, then! Now watch this!”

She stepped forward, planting her feet on the ground. Her wrist twitched slightly, practicing her toss, and she drew in a long breath.

Then, with a sharp flick--

Shwoosh--!

The arrow loosed from her fingers and cut through the air with reckless force. It flew straight over the pot and punched through the paper screen of the distant window across the courtyard. It was lucky no one caught it!

For a heartbeat, all was still.

Yingzimò gasped, hand flying to her mouth.

((Also rolled 10!))

Yingzimò could almost feel Ye Yu’s qi... if she was a trained martial artist, using her inner energy for that drinking game. But no. Tonight at least, she was only a drunk not martial and just artist, using only her muscles and intuition. What the songstress was feeling when focusing? Only the result of alcohol slowly dulling her senses. But in her mind, it felt very real!

“MHH... What should I be watching? A murder attempt? Are you trying to make me your accomplice? Fine, give me an arrow and tell me who is your target, I’m going to fetch a bow!” she mocked, laughing even more and having a hard time staying straight. “Wait, no, let me grab it myself. I’m impressed enough by your martial skills, you could kill me if you hand me one dart with the same strength you used for this try!”

She took some deep breaths, trying to calm herself.

“The right way, the right way...”

She aimed. Cocked her arm. Closed her eyes.

“One.... Two... Three...”

... ...

Pic!... Plinck!

A ceramic sound echoed, followed by... another, louder? She opened her eyes again. The arrow had flown in a nice parabolic trajectory, hitting the edge of the pot, bouncing straight upward before falling into it. One point for her, zero for her soon-to-be bodyguard!

With a proud attitude, hand on her hips, she smiled at Yingzimò.

“Aaand this is how it’s done!”

((Phew! 14!))

“At least one of us is impressed,” she said with a faint, wry smile. “It seems I shall be compensating the innkeeper as well...”

She swayed to the side, sleeves drifting through the air as she held her hands out to steady herself. Across from her, she watched Ye Yu loose the arrow in one fluid motion. Through half-lidded eyes, she followed the arrow’s flight, clinging to the hope it might merely glance off the rim.

Instead, it struck true.

A soft exhale slipped past her lips. Her head dipped, posturing slackening and feet staggering back and forth like a drifting spirit. Still, she offered a small applause and soft laughter.

“Sheer luck,” she teased. “The world’s way of mending the shame of those earlier shots.”

Stepping forward, she plucked up a dart and raised it to eye level, gaze sharpening. Then, with another flick, she sent it flying.

There was no grace in its path or any practiced technique. It shot forward with an angled tip, dipping too soon. With a dull knock, it struck the front of the pot and fell lifelessly to the ground.

She could tell she missed by the lame, awkward thunk.

((A whopping 9!))

“Luck? Luck? Call it whatever you want, Sister, but at least, I got the job done! May I remind you the game’s rules? The arrows are supposed to go in the pot” she mocked again with a light laugh. Being serious and compassionate was too much for her in her state now. She took another dart and turned her back to the target.

“I’m having so much fun!” she said, boldly snatching a cup of wine from a passer-by’s hands, emptying it in one gulp. Their game was attracting a new crowd and bets were being made again, some previous witnesses wagering on the previous winner, others leaning on the current leader.

“More free drinks for me! I’m helping you a bit! I’m even not looking for this one!” she jested, throwing the dart over her shoulder just like a drunkard would do with an empty bottle.

It flew several feet wide off the correct direction, hitting someone’s head, bouncing up before falling on a poor cat who, angry and scared, spat and swiped the offending object with its pawn, sending the arrow back in the air up to the Moon, colliding with the ISS, getting caught by Earth gravitation field... It felt back, guided by a gush of wind straight into the pot with a nice, clear Plink!.

Ye Yu, too occupied emptying some other offered cups and encouraging people to bet -even taking bets herself-, turned to look at the pot when she heard the sound. She had not noticed any of what just happened, oblivious to the scandalous amount of luck she was having and displaying, causing a little commotion. Raising her stolen cup to Yingzimò, she boasted: “Luck, you said? That’s skills! Now, show me w-... uhh this wine is strong. Show me what you got!”

“One arrow away from a life of wonders
Should she stop right now and surrender?
Is she making a formidable blunder?...
For Lady Yingzimò, I want to hear thunders!”

She started to dance and clap her hands, cheering her opponent, rousing the crowd.

((An incredible 20!))

To say she was flabbergasted would be an understatement.

Yingzimò stood still, her jaw slightly slack, and eyes wide. She watched the spectacle unfold, scarcely daring to blink. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if her senses betrayed her-- if she was hallucinating and some illusion took her mind. Yet no, what she seen was real.

That arrow had fallen from the heavens like a plummeting comet, cutting clean through the air and plunging cleanly into the pitch-pot. No such alignment of fate and skill has she ever witnessed like that.

Around them, the crowd swelled, voices rising in astonishment and praise. Yet Yingzimò heard none of it. Her gaze remained fixed upon her opponent.

Utterly. Profoundly. Speechless.

She did not even have a sharp retort.

At last, her turn came again.

She stepped forward, though, significantly humbled. Drawing a slow breath, she steadied herself. “Very well,” she murmured, quieter than before. “This one... will not miss.”

Her eyes drifted shut for the briefest instant, seeking stillness on a turbulent sea.

Pull yourself together...

Her thoughts wandered to long hours spent in solitary cultivation-- standing beneath open skies, letting wind and silent calm her spirit. Was this the same feeling? That strange suspension in time, where the world seemed to hold its breath?

To onlookers, she might appear asleep. There was a strong chance she was, after all.

Then...

Her eyes opened.
And in that instant, clarity.
She released the arrow.

It did not soar high into the air, or blaze with empowered force. Instead, it moved straight and true, as if guided by an unseen hand. It struck the rim of the pitch-pot with a soft, ringing not, circling its edge in a delicate dance.

For a heartbeat, it wavered.
Would it fall away or descend within?
The arrow tipped and slipped cleanly into the pot.

((A 17!))

Ye Yu clapped her hand frenetically, even hopping on the spot like some kind of bunny.

“One point for you! At least, your honor is safe and the competition is up again! ”. In three jumps, she joined Yingzimò, grabbing her by the shoulders to give her a deep, drunk look.

“Let’s not... Let’s not... Uuuh...Let’s not let our audience down!
The suspense is at its peak! And I made so much bets!
More than ever, I can’t let you win now..
... ... Let’s make this match a moment no one will ever forget!”

She smiled, swaying from side to side and .... Just stayed there for a time, before jumping.

“Oh, true, it’s my turn!
With an arrow, at my place, I shall return!”

Doing as she said, she waved to the crowd and whipped them into an even greater frenzy. After all, the match may end with this round. This very arrow she was playing with, asking men and women to put a kiss on it to bring her luck.

Then, she returned to her position. Theatrically, she covered her eyes with her free hand, looking away as she threw the dart.

And again. It flew. Again, a nice curve. Again, feet away from the target. Again, a gush of divine wind. Again, the whole crowd holding its breath.

... ... And ... ...

Nothing!

She parted her fingers and opened her eyes, looking for the arrow. She found it.

Far from where it was meant to be. Sadly lying on the ground.

But, surprisingly, she seemed to rejoice to that outcome.

“And the show goes on!” she cheered. Did she miss on purpose? It was impossible to tell...

(( But I can tell it was a 5! ))

Yingzimò spun around on her heels to cast a bleary-eyed look back at Ye Yu.

With a solemn nod of agreeance, she resolved to put on a spectacle for their adoring fans. She caught Ye Yu by the forearms, the two of them swaying together like two reeds in a river’s current, before parting ways to await the next cast.

As Ye Yu gathered herself, she turned to the crowd and offered a deep, sweeping bow. She presented her friend like a true champion.

“Please-- hic-- empty your purses for milady! Or... entrust them to me! I shall guard them in her name,” she declared, words muddled on her tongue.

Though, for a grand display, there was a whole lot of nothing going on.

Peeking beneath her sleeve, she spotted the latest arrow lying among its fallen brethren on the ground.

She straightened at one-- almost too quickly and nearly toppling over-- then composed herself awkwardly. Another arrow found its way into her grasp.

“Better luck next round. Perhaps I might have a chance to catch up to you, after all,” she said to Ye Yu.

“Ugh, everything won’t stop spinning...”

With a low groan, she narrowed her eyes and eagerly tossed the arrow.

It skimmed right over the rim of the pot with some teasing promise-- so close it might have found its way in if she just gave it a little arc. Instead, it struck the far lip, bounced, flipped skyward, and landed pitifully between the cobbles. There, it would stand, straight up.

Thus, the tally remained two to one. Victory still just beyond their drunken reach.

((Yet another 10!))

Running out of projectile, Ye Yu walked, or should we say, slightly staggered to the pitch pot, collecting arrows on the ground with exaggerated movements. Picking her next dart, she approached the pot and tapped its rim with her wooden stick.

“See, little arrow?
This is where you have to go!
Remember the way, it’s my turn to throw!”

She hopped back to Yingzimò, shooting her a curious glance.

“Still alright, Sister? You look quite pale
Are you going to pass out? Too much ale?
At least, wait for my next shoot, I’m not going to fail!”

She proceeded quickly, fearing that her opponent would forfeit out of illness.

Time to end the game.

Time to get all her bets' rewards.

Time to get a new companion.

She threw the arrow she spoke to a minute ago.

But the arrow did not listen to her. Instead of going in, it goes on, hitting the front part. Plick!.

“... Guess I failed! Next time, I’ll try with my other hand!”

(( Damn 8!

It was far too much wine, but by some foolish twist, Yingzimò managed to remain standing, not completely subdued yet.

She inclined her head to Ye Yu, bracing her palms against her knees. Drawing another steady breath, she straightened, though the world still tilted at her vision.

“I’m okay!” she declared, voice softening, “Yóu Yún, what if neither of us prevails?”

She was beginning to wonder if this game would turn out like one of those stories-- two Masters locked in a contest of wit or skill for decades... no centuries. Would they too be trapped in this courtyard, forever casting arrows into the pot? Sustained only by wine that dulled their senses, yet denied the mercy of sleep?

Ye Yu’s latest throw had done little for her confidence.

She let out a quiet breath and reached for another arrow. This time, there was no focus or meaningful aim. Her arm drifted forward in a careless motion, tossing the arrow right out of her hand.

If fate wished to decide, then so be it.

A hush fell over the crowd in anticipation.

The dart struck the rim and came to rest atop it, perfectly balanced. It wavered there, teetering between triumph and failure, before a stray wind nudged it off the edge.

It rolled, tipped, and fell to the ground.

((Lol 12!))

Ye Yu gasped, hand over her mouth to hide her... stupefaction? No, her yawn. She giggled again when the arrow tricked everyone before falling down ; and joined Yingzimò, grabbing and clinging to her arm, head resting on her shoulder.

“Siiiiister.... Stop teasing us all, we do know that you can play better than thaaat. We’ve seen you earlier! If you really want to be mine, just say so! You don’t need to fail on purpose until I win...”

She yawned again, hiding her face in her opponent’s neck before releasing her, stretching wide.

“Alright. Let’s finish this so we can go to your room and rest. It’s too bad Ruyi is sleeping, I’m sure she would have enjoyed the game!”

The next arrow flew again, missed again by a large foot.

“My, my, my. Looks like I spent all my luck on the first tries...”

(( A small 8...

Yingzimò inclined her head to Ye Yu. The promise of rest, especially a long rest, glimmered before her like a distant retreat. Sweet, sweet bed... How she longed to crash into one.

“All your cosmic fate was spent in those opening throws,” she said, wearing a faint smile. “Karma must keep balance.”

She laid a steady hand on the woman’s shoulder, lending a fragment of her own resolve, giving her a serious look-- at least the best she could put on given how inebriated they were.

“We will win this.”

Around them, the murmurs of the crowd began to swell. Doubt crept across the sea of people, with uncertainty about the bets they made.

Yingzimò stepped forward.

She drew in a slow breath and rolled her shoulders back, taking this shot seriously. The voices quieted in her mind, hearing only the ring in her ears and blood pass through her veins. Then, she lifted the arrow and whispered a prayer to the wind.

With a flick of her wrist upward, she sent it soaring skyward. It arced over the branches before descending in a swift fall.

It struck the rim of the pitch-pot, then slipped right in.

She opened her eyes and squealed, her composure shattering instantly.

“Two for two!”

((15 finally! phew!)

The crowd had good reasons being worried. Their champion for the evening was getting drunker with all the alcohol she sipped, causing her to sway more and more with each minute.

“Yes!” she exclaimed when the arrow entered the pot. “...wait... Two for two...? Oh, that’s your arrow...”

She giggled and cocked her arm again for another try.

“Yingzimò-Jiemei, let’s up the stake, shall we?
If you’re winning this duel.... I’ll share your bed...
But if I win... Then... you’ll let me sleep in your room. Now that being said...
Time to end the party!”

She threw the arrow chaotically, almost hitting another guest instead of the pot. Was she taking the game even seriously?

(( Huh. A Five... It’s getting worst and worst! ))

Yingzimò laughed as Ye Yu raised the wager. She folded her arms at her chest and tilted her chin upward, maintaining an amused smile.

“It seems either way, you’ll be securing a room for the night,” she said lightly. “Very well!”

She watches the dart fly out of Ye Yu’s fingers, veering off course towards an unsuspecting patron. For a heartbeat, it seemed like they may have needed to high-tail it out of there.

When it was her turn, Yingzimò hesitated.

Between the paper screens, the debt for wine and dishes, and her wounded pride-- would she owe a physician’s fee, too?

A thought came to mind.

Perhaps she had been approaching this all wrong.

Turning in a fluid motion, she fast the dart over her shoulder without so much as a glance. As it descended behind her, she briefly calmed her breath, and felt the whisper cut through the air. She traced the dart’s fall and felt stillness all around her.

In a flash, she pivoted, her foot snapping out like a striking crane. The edge of her shoe kissed the dart’s tip with complete precision, sending it soaring once more.

By all rationale… it should have clattered to the ground.

Instead, it curved through the air and dropped cleanly into the pot, accompanied by a ringing note.

...Plnnng...

(( 😓 finally, a 19!))

(( ... to finish, a 3!

Gasps from all the public! Silence, soon broken with murmurs and awes. Then the crowd began to stir: some cheered, other complained. A few, not willing to keep their words or reluctant to pay their bets, were even implying the game was rigged. People forgot about the two duelists. The new subject was all about collecting owed Wen, whether it was a fair game or not, if the two girls were truly lucky or undercover Pitch Pot Masters, failing on purpose only to entertain the guests... Speculation was rife and all the people were now dispersing, going back to their tables with new topics to argue over.

With a content smile, Ye Yu approached Yingzimò, her last arrow twisting between her fingers.

“That was truly impressive. And I thought you were just a lucky guard...
Now I wonder... Were you letting me win just for that surprising comeback? You make it seems it wasn’t even that hard...
Well now... I guess it’s time for you to collect your rewards?”

She teasingly shot the arrow on the victorious woman before suddenly reaching her and.... hiding being her, hands on her shoulders.

“Oh, snap, I forgot! Quick, to your room before they find me!
I bet so much wen on my own victory!
But... My purse’s being empty...”

The courtyard roared with voices, but Yingzimò pressed a hand to her forehead as the clamor drilled straight through her skull. She wouldn’t recall how it happened, only that some Wen found its way into her other hand, and she had the sense to tuck it away. The world spun around her, yet Ye Yu managed to keep her grounded.

“Just dumb luck,” she muttered. “You were far more impressive. We made a proper show of it.” She glanced back as Ye Yu hurried close behind her, looking for somewhere to slip out of sight.

Hiding sounded like a good idea… Especially before the innkeeper came counting damages.

Yingzimò gave a short nod and swayed toward the back stairs, leading their unsteady two-person procession. They pass the screen she’d shot through on the way in, and she raised a hushed finger to her lips, as if they didn’t talk about it, then no one would notice.

Staggering down the second floor corridor, she leads to a small servants’ room. She pushed the screen aside. Inside, two beds were situated side by side, there was a narrow dresser, a line for hanging clothes, and a small balcony facing the street. A spear rested in the corner beside a travel-worn pack.

She lingered in the doorway, peering out over the railing while voices carried from below.

“They’re still making a fuss,” she said quietly. “But I think we’ve gone unnoticed.”

Ye Yu was peaking at the room above her new roommate’s shoulder. She was expecting something... More comfortable. Maybe not an hotel suite, but at least, something with a double bed, a small living room, a decent, separate dressing, a dining room and a private bathroom.

Yes, definitely a suite.

Normally, she would have made a few taunting remarks, but given her current state, all she could say was:

“Beeeeeeeeeeed!”

Still responsible enough not to throw her precious musical instruments across the room, she quickly put them down against the wall before throwing herself -that, she could- onto the nearest mattress, rolling on it and hugging the cushion. She laid there for some time, not moving at all. Had she fallen asleep? A sudden movement suggested that she might have.

“Beeed...” she repeated, brushing strands of hair from her eyes.

“It is where you’re currently living? Mhhhf...
At least, you have a roof above your head.
... Let’s wait at least tomorrow before doing some Revelry sightseeing....”

She paused. For ten or twenty seconds, before waking up again.

“Huh... Are you not coming to bed?” she completed, tapping the mattress.

Yingzimò lingered in the doorway a moment longer, shoulder braced against the frame while Ye Yu settled in behind her. She heard the woman’s murmuring about the comfort of bed, but the habit of a sworn blade was not so easily put aside-- drunken haze or not. A guardian’s vigilance clung to her bones.

Even so, her body sagged, half-asleep already.

At last, she turned at the question. She gently slid the door shut and dropped the latch into place. “A temporary arrangement,” she murmured, her steps unsteady as she crossed to the balcony. She swept the road with a cursory glance, listening for any suspicious movement, then stepped away.

For a brief moment, she knelt beside her pack. There came a muted scrape of wood, as though she was moving a loose plank, then put it back in place.

“As a hired blade, this is the best they’ll spare,” she went on, slurring her words a bit. “It’ll do. Home lies but a short ride beyond the city walls-- hic-- anyway.”

Her strength gave out not long after. She staggered to the bed and all but collapsed to the mattress. Yet... what is that with her? Is-- that her sword?

The sheathed weapon rested across her chest, held close and tight like it anchored her over a drifting sea.

Her eyes fluttered shut.

“...Bed.”

But she continues to talk:

“Revelry gardens tomorrow? Ah, that sounds nice. You know, if you want, I will be your free guard whenever you need. It’s... it’s only fair because you put up a good game. And.... AND the horse needs to be brushed--” She started to ramble, not making much sense.

“Come on.... Your hair looks a bit of a mess, but to go so far as to compare it to a horse’s mane...
But... fine... I’ll brush them tomorrow... I hope... There will be no rain...
The garden... mhhegnn... hmmgn...”

She yawned in her cushion and did not move out from it, her body relaxing as she was falling asleep again, still all dressed up on the bed. What a lovely day, about to end! She had such a good, free meal and so much drinks! She played a fun game with more alcohol instead of playing music for the guests -and she totally forgot to warn the innkeeper she was bailing out of her performance- and in the end, she was spending the night in her new bodyguard’s room. What more could she be wishing for?

She wanted to talk more to Yingzimò. To ask her questions about her past, her current job here, about that person she was looking for. Instead, she clung to her buoy cushion as the room was beginning to sway more and more, until she drifted into a strange dream. Arrows and large pots were dancing together. She was playing music with her new companion, but the swordwoman was playing bells by kicking the arrows with her feet, sending the darts in every pot around. Until one arrow flew straight to her heart.

She woke up in a jump, panting and blinking. Where was she? The room was so dark. She slowly rubbed her painful temples. Ah! Yes... The pitch pot contest... And her opponent... ... What was her name, again?

Through the long night, Yingzimò did not stir. She slept as one ready to be laid to rest, arms wrapped around his sword like it were a burial companion. Her breathing was so faint, it hardly seemed to exist, and not even a flicker of a dream crossed her mind.

That woman was out cold.

When dawn finally rolled around, and Ye Yu woke with a start, she would find her opponent present and not far away.

She sat poised on the floor, statuesque in nature, and seated before the open balcony doors. The morning light was faint, but she clearly wore some simple robes, and her hair was done loosely. How long she had been there in silence, was impossible to tell.

On the dresser nearby, Ye Yu would find a simple meal: warm tea still steaming, a bowl of soup, and freshly prepared rice.

Then, at last, she turned her head.
Her face held the lifelessness of a corpse, drained of warmth and color.
The wine really took a toll on her.

“There is food for you,” she said, voice flat, trying hard to maintain her meditation. “The attendants have also prepared a bath.”

A brief pause...

“I have already taken mine.”

Ye Yu was still half-asleep. Even three quarters sleeping still. But when she saw that, the surge of adrenaline was more effective than any caffeine shot. Thething turned her head toward the songstress. Slowly. Her hair was done loosely, cascading on her pale, lifeless and expressionless face. And now, she was looking at her with those dead fish eyes. A glacial Shiver ran through Ye Yu’s body three times, electrifying her, causing her to experience spasms up to her neck.

She grabbed her mighty pillow and, with all the experience she got from the previous duel, she threw it as hard as she could on the white lady, while screaming from the bottom of her lungs:

“A GHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOST!”

She tried to flee, got her feet tangled into the sheet, fell backward out of the bed, fought with the blanket and lost pitifully. But, resourceful and clever as ever, she decided to turn the net into a shield: curling under the bed linen, she just... Waited, shaking, hoping the undead apparition would leave her alone.

Down below, the kitchen staff froze in the midst of preparing the morning meal, exchanging baffled glances amongst each other. And in the corridor, a maid on her way to freshen the rooms halted just outside the door, her face paling, before hastily scurrying off.

A ghost?!

“Oof--!”

Yingzimò was knocked backward as the pillow struck her squarely in the face, sending her sprawling onto the wood floor. The planks were at least cool against her back-- a small mercy for her throbbing head.

She let out a breath and peeled the pillow away, propping herself up on one arm. Her gaze drifted to the bed, where Ye Yu retreated beneath the covers.

For a fleeting moment, Yingzimò considered teasing her, but she thought better of it. The worry that she might find a worse projectile was a real fear on her mind, especially with hot food in reach.

“I’m not a ghost!” she said, gentler now as she pushed herself up to her knees, “It’s me, Yingzimò. Have you forgotten? We played pitch-pot together last night.”

She tugged at the end of the blanket playfully.

“Come on! Drink some tea. It’ll help ease your head.”

“... Mhh... Yingzi?”

Ye Yu’s disheveled hair slowly appeared from under the blanket, inspecting the surrounding and checking for any trace of undead being. All clear. With a deep sigh of relief, she gulped down all the stress still stuck in her throat.

“Oh goose... My heart... You, silly...
What an idea to play such trick on me, this early!
You really got me there, what a fright!
Your make-up looks brilliant, I almost died at the sight!”

She waited for some more minutes, to let her heart recover from the adrenaline surge, before slowly crawling out of her protective nest, moving on her all four to the dresser to fetch her awaiting meal. Sitting on the floor, she poured herself a cup of tea and sniffed the soup.

“Ahhh... What a night, what a night...” she commented as her memory was slowly coming back with her mind clarity. “Want some tea?” she asked, carrying her meal next to the pale girl. “I hope you weren’t waiting for me?”

Yingzimò stifled a little giggle behind her hand as Ye Yu emerged from beneath the blanket, looking no less disheveled than she herself felt.

She quickly composed herself and inclined her head in a courteous bow. “Forgive me. I did not intend to startle you.” Her gaze drifted to the mirror nearby, and after catching sight of her own reflection, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

So pale.

Seating herself before the mirror, she took up a comb and began to brush through her hair, gathering it together in some semblance of order.

“I have already eaten,” she said, “but I will join you for tea.” Even as she brushed her hair and tried to pull at her cheeks, she knew that the only thing that was going to fix her ghastliness was the careful application of makeup. But, ugh, such work.

Setting the comb aside, she moved to sit beside Ye Yu. “What a night,” she agreed. “To be honest, a ghost I might be yet. I feel like death.”

“And you also smell like death!” she snorted in her teacup.
“But don’t worry, you’re not alone. Stinky I must be too!
With so much alcohol, we must have foul breath
I really need a bath, new clothes and a glass of water or two...*”

Tact and diplomacy weren’t really her strong points. She emptied her cup, filled a clean spare one for Yingzimò.... then she simply drank straight from the teapot, pouring the -fortunately not boiling- beverage into her mouth.

“AAHHHHHHHHHHHHH~” she let out after quenching her thirst with so much elegance. “Please, let me do this, have the soup in the meantime! Or why don’t you tell me more about yourself, so I get to know my new employ-... mhh... my new... free servant?”

She grabbed the discarded hair tool and began to comb Yingzimò’s mane as she sat near her.

“I’ve never seen so many knots...
Like... there’s ... a lot...”

Yingzimò subtly took a whiff of herself before reaching for the teacup, which she then witnessed Ye Yu drinking straight from the pot as if it were nothing more than a water-skin.

Even as a farm girl, she had never seen such a thing, and she stared a moment a moment too long.

Quietly, she reclaimed her cup and turned her back to Ye Yu, allowing her to comb through her hair. Now and then her eyes narrowed as the teeth snag at stubborn knots, each pull accompanied with a slight sting.

“What would you like to know?” She asked, uncertain where to begin. After a sip, she added, “Do often work at this tavern?”

Her cup rose and fell with the rhythm. Each time it neared her lip, the comb’s tug pulled her just out of reach.

She exhaled and continue to ask, “And where did you learn to play?”

Ye Yu could not help but giggle, causing her to pull slightly on the comb with her chuckles.

“Is that how you speak about yourself?
By asking people questions about themselves?
Well, you can be mysterious for now,
I’ll get to know every secrets of you, somehow!”

Mhh. A stubborn knot. Come. On. You. Little. Bug. Oh, she was maybe pulling a bit hard on Yingzimò’s scalp.

“This tavern, no, it’s my first time. Well. It was supposed to be my first time, but I’m not sure I’ll find a work here now. I did miss my show without notice... All because of you! So you have to take responsibility and be my patron, until I find another job!”

She was teasing, or was she? Running her fingers through the woman’s hair, checking their fluidity, she combed the last knots on the right side, before working on the remaining one.

“Music? I had lessons when I was younger, and then I honed my skills with various Masters throughout my travels here and there. Each one taught me something new, their own vision of what this art form is and how to use it to express feelings. Each one being more sensitive to specific emotions... If you come with me at Gracetown, maybe you’ll hear me play? But yes, first, the Revelry Hall! I just fear that if you hear Sister Ruolan’s performance, I will appear quite bland in comparison!

What about you? Have you already drawn that instrument of yours? Made a man sing their swan song?”

Each snag at a knot draws a faint grimace, yet she endures in silence. For such a warrior, she should not falter at the pull of a comb, yet her tender scalp refuses such pride.

“I am sorry you missed your performance,” she said as she lifts the cup for a small sip. “Though it seems the tavern was well entertained. If I remember correctly... that game drew quite the crowd.”

She allows Ye Yu to work through the more stubborn tangles, her gaze drifting towards the wall as she listens to the woman’s tale.

At the mention of Revelry Hall, a soft laugh escapes past her lips. She shakes her head, faintly amused, before her eyes shift to the weapons nearby.

“I have,” she answers at last. “Had I not, I would be unworthy to carry those weapons. It is common practice where I trained.” Her attention shifts to the teacup, taking a slow, considerate sip.

“... Aaand where is that place you trained
That requires disciples to have a life slain?
Just to know, just to be sure...
That over there, I’ll never venture...” she asked, putting down the comb and caressing Yingzimò’s hair to check for remaining knots. Or maybe was she just enjoying having an excuse to pat the girl. Collecting several strands together, she even started to braid her hair.

“I need to check your background and abilities!
If you’re going to be my bodyguard. Do you have any liabilities?” she joked.
“Have you ever... fought imperial guards?
Been in some rich merchants' backyards?” she continued, blurring the lines between jests and real questions.

“It lies far from here. You needn’t fear it,” she said, though her tone hinted that she could not reveal much.

She lifted her cup once more, sipping quietly as Ye Yu’s fingers moved through her hair. The stillness was a rare luxury, and soothing enough that she almost felt drowsy, but she manages to stay upright.

“Liabilities?” She questioned, considering during a brief pause. “I… do not think so. I have never crossed blades with the Imperial Guard. Though, I was once sent with fellow disciples, to escort a wealthy patron’s caravan.” A faint smile touched her lips. “Our only trial was a shattered cart wheel, and a flock of territorial geese.”

She offered a light shrug, and waited calmly for more questions as she drinks her tea and allows Ye Yu to do whatever she wills to her hair.

Ye Yu was playing with Yingzimò’s hair, trying to create an elegant, warrior-like ponytail. She braided her hair multiple times until it met her standards.

“So you went into a place far, far away
To train martial arts, nights and day
A life, you had to slay
... and now, as guard in this inn, you stay?

Bigger dreams than this, you had, I guess?
Would it be something you’d like to express...?”

The hairstyle she’s trying to do:

Yingzimò glanced at the mirror just as Ye Yu put the final touches to her braided ponytail. A faint smile tugged at her lips, displaying her approval. It was not often it was so put together-- or, well, at least she was impressed.

“I suppose my expectations were... higher,” she murmured, setting the teacup aside carefully. “But it is all about perfecting the arts. My master often said there was something to be learned in humble beginnings.”

She inclined her head gratefully, then casts Ye Yu a sidelong look.

“Still, if it were not for this inn, you would not have gained a willing guard for no coin,” she added, a hint of amusement in her voice. Her legs shift as she attempts to stand.

“Here-- Allow me to tend to your hair in return. It’s the least I can do. It’s... quite disheveled, if I’m being honest.”

((Need that hairstyle ingame now!))

“Your daily routine must be really boring
To jump on the first traveler offering
To go in various places, exploring
And with the promise of no earnings!” she gently teased, turning her back to Yingzimò this time, wiggling a bit like an impatient child about to get a treat.

“I’m still wondering...
Why? No don’t tell me, it may be disappointing.
Instead... Tell me more about that man you’re tracking?
Against him, a grudge are your holding?”

Yingzimò paused by the dresser, retrieving a small wooden box. Inside was a modest collection of silken ribbons and braided ties in different hues, a handful of simple copper cuffs, and a jade pin.

Even a warrior liked to accessorize.

She held the box out to Ye Yu, allowing her to take her pick while she steps behind her, comb in hand. For a moment, her lips pressed into a thin line, gaze lingering on the woman’s hair, as though uncertain where to begin. Finally, she gathered the ends gently-- best to tame what she could first.

“All there is here is the occasional bar fight.”

Her fingers worked at Ye Yu’s hair, thoughtful for a moment as she considers the question.

“Hmm... How about I tell you a story instead? I think it is the best way to start.

*This man-- or perhaps not a man at all... He bears many names, none of them his one true name. Cunning as a fox, and treacherous as a viper. Some say he is no mortal, but a wandering mogui cast across many plains.

They call him the Lord of a Hundred Lives. Each time a hero claims his head, he is said to rise again elsewhere, with a different name and different face.

And yet... should anyone truly end him-- body and soul-- such a warrior’s name would be carved into legend.”*

She laughs softly and tilts her head, working the comb up through the middle section of her hair. “But I am not after fame. I believe it was his doing that ended my father’s life.”

Her eyes shift to the spear in the corner, the blade glimmering as the sunlight pours through the screen doors.

“That was his spear,” she adds at last.

Ohhhh! A box full of treats! Ye Yu did that little finger wiggle before picking the cute little colored ribbons, handing them over to her now not only bodyguard but also hairdresser. She tried to remain as still as possible, listening to the short story with curiosity. She also tried not to let her mind wander into that soothing sensation too much. It felt just like years ago when her mother was braiding her hair while telling stories.

But her stories were lighter, full of cute animals first, when she was a child, then of romance or adventure when she grew up a little bit more. This story’s cliffhanger was more gloomy, yet, strangely familiar. Snakes spitting venom in someone’s life. A quest for revenge. A cherished weapon. Oddly familiar, indeed! She couldn’t help but smirk a little at the striking similarities with someone else she knew so well.

What was that? Was she attracted to the same type of person? Was she destined to follow people who were looking for a sense of inner peace that had been taken from them? Not that it was really bothering her anyway...

“... I’m sorry for your loss” she eventually let out softly.
“Was your father a famous fighter?
On a battlefield, did their weapon cross?
Would telling me more about that story make you feel lighter?” she asked, knowing that such sensible and emotionally charged topic could either be a burden to bear alone, but also a painful scar to open again when not completely healed.

Yingzimò took the ribbons and set them aside for the moment. She combed from the tips to the top of Ye Yu’s head, loosening the tangles as she works through it. Stray strands were brushed from woman’s face.

She paused, fidgeting with a few locks to gauge what style would best suit her.

“It’s alright,” she said softly. “It happened a long time ago.”

A quiet breath slipped through her nose as she gathered Ye Yu’s hair, gently weaving the ribbon through as she binds it around a loose bun, leaving the rest to fall.

“My father was no famed hero,” she continued. “For many years, he was actually just a simple grain farmer. But before that… he walked the same path I do now. He hid it well. Few would have ever known.”

Her hands paused for a fleeting moment before continuing her work.

“I cannot say this so-called “demon” ever crossed blades with him. But in my heart, I know he had some responsibility.”

A self-mocking laugh escaped her lips. “Foolish, is it not?”

“Some scars never heal properly,
Bleeding still, even after a century...”

She paused and exhaled softly, seeming to really enjoy being pampered a bit, even if it was only someone doing her hair. Not something she was really used to, nowadays! Her eyes glanced at the bowl of soup and rice, slowly getting colder on the dresser. She did not said a word, but her stomach spoke openly for her. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat, pretending nothing happened.

“Mhphf! So you’re saying... Your father, former soldier,
Who almost everyone knew as a simple, peaceful farmer,
Eventually found his demise because of that mysterious demon?
What evidence are there to support your allegation?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging, nor being skeptical
I’m just curious to understand the root of your story, seeming epical.
A daughter, with her father’s spear, looking for a ghost
Is doing my hair, while talking about her loss.”

A tummy rumbling punctuated her verses, quite loudly.

“... Sorry... Please don’t mind me.”

She put the finishing touches to Ye Yu’s hair, securing the ribbon around the coiled bun and allowing a stream of red trail down the woman’s hair that she left half-down. Not a strand out of place-- save for a few which she gently smoothed out.

A faint rumble broke the quiet.

Her hands paused, and she tilted her head slightly, as if listening to the wind outside the balcony. Shortly after that, she resumed speaking.

“That man commands a devout following. A cult. They believe him to be immortal, and for his sake they commit terrible acts.

My father answered the summons years ago, when word of one of their hidden strongholds reached the Temple. They led an assault... but the unit was outnumbered and were forced to retreat.

He passed shortly after to an internal wound. His spear was returned to us, and he was laid to rest within the Temple grounds.”

Again, another rumble.
She stepped back this time.

“I knew you should’ve eaten! Come, your hair is done, and this will get cold.”

((Similar-ish style!))

Ye Yu quickly clasped her hands to thanks her hairdresser for the time and care she put into making her a nice and elegant hairstyle and quickly hopped to a mirror to admire the result. She turned on her left, looking over her shoulder, then on her right, repeating the same gesture again and again until hunger eventually beat her narcissism.

She reached for her breakfast, considering for a time which bowl to get first: The white rice? Its sweet savoury taste would be a nice starter, but the soup and the depth of its broth was also really appealing. Rice? Soup? Rice? She shruged, took the soup bowl and... poured it over the rice one, creating a kind of porridge.

“If that man is a cult leader,
To find the cult first, wouldn’t it be easier?
You could pretend to join them, as your father did
Climb their rank to the top, find the boss and make him bleed?” she suggested, maybe naively, now digging into her lukewarm meal.

Yingzimò settled beside the balcony window once more, just as the morning breeze swept in. Beyond, the street began to bustle with life, as footsteps took to the road and vendors opened their shops. There, she played with her own ponytail in secret admiration while Ye Yu took to the mirror.

She would remain ever vigilant, even if there no need.

At the suggestion, she flicks her eyes to Ye Yu and offers only the faintest shrug. “I have thought about it,” she said softly. “But it is risky. They’ve done well to hide their tracks, and now there’s only whispers scattered to the wind.”

Her gaze turns back to the street, distant and thoughtful, allowing her companion the chance to eat.

“Still…” she murmured. “Patience wins the race, eh? Why rush? I suppose there’s more to life than revenge.”

Ye Yu couldn’t help but smile at Yingzimò’s choice of words. Was it a sign? People use to see signs everywhere when they were looking for confirmation.

“Whispers in the wind? Ohh, what a coincidence! I think fate put me in your path, dear Yingzy! I am an expert in listening to the breeze! It is decided then, you’ll travel with me and I’ll be on the lookout for any hint murmured in my ears. I’ll let you know if I hear something. Moreover, it’s not in that secluded inn that you’ll find any clue. Maybe you’ll be more lucky in the places I’ll do my shows! Of course, in exchange for my services, you’ll provide meals and accommodation.”

She nodded, sealing a pact without even asking for the other party’s consent and dug into her bowl, emptying it under a minute. She was hungry, after all, despite the precious day’s feast!

“Now, now. I need to change and to prepare myself for our little dat-... huh... walk** in the Revelry Garden. Meet me in front of the Bathhouse in one hour?**” she said, putting the bowl down and getting back her instruments where she put them, against the wall near the entrance. “Don’t stand me up or I’ll find you and... And... you’d rather not know! Oh! And don’t forget to tell the innkeeper you’re resigning!”

The warrior considered Ye Yu’s words thoughtfully-- even if she knew it was already decided. A small smile tugged at her lips, and she dipped her head in a courteous bow.

“It’s settled. We shall make a fitting pair. You will play your shows and gather news, and I...”

Her voice trailed off.
What would she do?

“Meals and accommodations”? She needed money! There was still a bit left over from last night’s bout of games, but it would not last long. Should she just get reallyreally good at pitch-pot? Take up work in stables? Or... find coin the only way a wandering blade could?

The silence stretched from her end.

Fortunately, Ye Yu spoke on about getting ready and the Revelry garden, and hopefully that distracted her from Yingzimò’s look of despair.

At last, she snapped out of her thoughts, and gave a brisk nod as resolve settles back in.

“I promise I will be there,” she said, tone firm and resolute. “One hour, and I shall be ready, too.” Before Ye Yu departed, Yingzimò adds, “Today will be fun! I look forward to it-- and working together.”