Chapter 125 — A Higher Price
CHAPTER 125
A Higher Price
“I'll increase the payment,” Ling Qingzhu said.
Shi Feng didn't move. She mistook his stillness for calculation and continued before he could speak.
“Your circumstances changed,” Ling Qingzhu said evenly. “You're Master Shen now, and one of Great Liang's three representatives. If ten thousand spirit stones feels too little for the time you've spent on me, I'll add more—you don't have to pretend the first bag was empty just to renegotiate.”
She sounded completely sincere. That was what made the words cut to the bone.
He looked at the little medicine case. The lids were still open, and the scentless cream sat beside her hand. A moment ago he had spoken to her about love, and she had heard a merchant lying about an old receipt to drive up his fee.
“That's your answer?” Shi Feng asked.
“It's fair,” Ling Qingzhu replied. “I don't want you to feel I've taken advantage.”
He could've laughed. He almost did. Instead he stood quietly, afraid that if he said the first thing in his mind it would make the room uglier than it already felt.
She believed fairness meant paying more for the same willing care. He told her his feelings were real, and she heard a price that hadn't been settled.
“I didn't ask for more spirit stones,” Shi Feng said.
“I know you didn't ask directly,” Ling Qingzhu replied. “You don't have to.”
His expression changed. She noticed that and finally stopped speaking.
“Directly?” Shi Feng repeated.
Ling Qingzhu felt a sudden unease. She thought she was sparing his pride. Now he looked at her as if she'd insulted something he hadn't allowed anyone else to touch.
“I didn't mean you were begging,” Ling Qingzhu said quickly.
“Then don't answer as if I was,” Shi Feng replied.
The words were quiet. She flushed, embarrassed and annoyed at once. He never needed to raise his voice to make her feel she'd answered badly.
“What would you have me say?” Ling Qingzhu asked. “That I should keep asking things of you without making the arrangement fair?”
“That you heard me,” Shi Feng replied.
She looked at him. His face wasn't cold the way it became when a merchant lied. He looked hurt. Seeing that frightened her, but she still didn't know where the mistake lay.
“I heard you say you wanted to do those things,” Ling Qingzhu said.
“For you,” Shi Feng replied.
“And I'm grateful,” Ling Qingzhu said. “That's why I'm willing to change the payment.”
He turned his face toward the open window. His chest felt tight, and he hated how much he still wanted her to stop speaking and reach for him instead.
Ling Qingzhu pushed a loose strand behind her ear. He used to follow that little movement as though she had performed some peerless sword art. She would call him foolish, and he would grin without shame.
This time he didn’t turn back. Her hand stayed beside her ear for a moment before falling.
Shi Feng thought, She isn't trying to wound me. She simply believes this. That left him with nobody easy to hate.
He could crush an enemy who meant to kill him. There was no useful sword stroke for this.
“Keep your spirit stones,” Shi Feng said.
Her mouth tightened. She heard rejection of her effort to be reasonable, not the exhaustion beneath it.
“Don't make it sound dirty,” Ling Qingzhu said. “We agreed from the beginning. I didn't deceive you about what I wanted.”
He looked back. She was right about the beginning. That didn't make everything afterward part of the same bargain.
“I know what you wanted at the beginning,” Shi Feng replied. “I thought something changed.”
She fell silent. The words struck nearer to her own hidden feelings than she expected. She remembered his arm beneath her hand on the road home and the pleasure of hearing him return early.
Something did change. She hadn't decided what to call it.
“Things don't become simple just because you say that,” Ling Qingzhu said at last.
“I didn't ask for simple,” Shi Feng replied.
He waited another moment. She couldn't give him an answer she wasn't prepared to name, and she resented feeling pressed to do so.
“Let's speak when you're calmer,” Ling Qingzhu said.
He lowered his eyes. It was the sort of sensible sentence people used when they wanted an uncomfortable conversation to disappear.
“I've got work,” Shi Feng replied.
He picked up his pack. The movement was ordinary, but she immediately looked alarmed.
“You're going now?” Ling Qingzhu asked.
“The customer is still waiting,” Shi Feng said.
He didn't slam the door. She listened to the gate close and looked at the medicine case again. For the first time, its neat little labels made her uncomfortable.
The furnace yard was loud with carts when Shi Feng arrived. Gao Yuan tried to ask about renewing the room after the tournament, saw his face, and decided to discuss charcoal with someone else.
Shi Feng put down his pack and checked the prepared herbs. He didn't light the furnace immediately. His hands were steady, but his attention kept returning to a room across the capital.
He could hear her voice clearly. I'll increase the payment.
She offered it to keep him content. She thought the things he treasured could be continued by settling the right sum.
He closed his eyes once, then opened them and read the order from the start. There were ingredients, a quantity, and a delivery date. This was actual work. He owed the customer a proper result, not a batch spoiled by his private hurt.
Shi Feng thought, Finish one thing at a time. He set the copper furnace heating and began.
The first stage went well. The second needed a slower fire, and he made the adjustment without delay. The pills formed evenly beneath his qi. For the length of the refining, there was no room for anything else.
Afterward, the room grew quiet. He stared at the finished tray and felt the ache return exactly where he'd left it.
A successful batch didn't make him feel better. It only proved he could still do his work.
He cleaned the mixing spoons and checked the ingredients remaining in his own boxes. The practical work was simple. Each herb went back into its proper wrapping, each finished pill into a dry container.
One small packet was hers. He bought enough for her scentless wash and kept the unused leaves apart from the commission stock.
His fingers stopped over it.
Throwing the leaves away would be childish. Selling them wouldn't prove he no longer cared. He put them in the box with the other useful ingredients and shut the lid.
Gao Yuan passed the open doorway and glanced inside.
“More charcoal tomorrow?” Gao Yuan asked.
“One sack,” Shi Feng replied.
“The larger sort?” Gao Yuan asked. “It's better value.”
“The sort I ordered,” Shi Feng said.
Gao Yuan nodded and moved on. He didn't ask why a successful young alchemist sat staring at a closed herb box. There wasn't a fee for the answer, so it didn't interest him.
Shi Feng stood and opened the shutters. Late sunlight fell across the clean table, and the ordinary noise of the yard returned. Somewhere outside, a porter complained about carrying a chest that weighed more than its owner admitted.
He heard the complaint and remembered his own paid loads. The memory didn't make him feel ashamed. He worked because he needed money. There was honesty in that.
What hurt was having a different part of his life treated as if it worked the same way. Near sunset, Yan Meizhen collected a separate order. The Bone Refinement merchant checked the jars and paid promptly.
“You look tired,” Yan Meizhen said. “Don't charge me extra for noticing.”
“Then don't ask for a discount because of it,” Shi Feng replied.
She laughed and left. He packed his retained pills carefully, then sat alone until the furnace cooled. He didn't swallow them in anger or try to force his cultivation forward. The medicine was useful, and his body would take it without harm. None of that answered the question waiting at home. He wished she hadn't offered such an easy answer to it.
He didn't want to return home. He wanted, desperately, to return to the home he thought he had yesterday.
Those were no longer the same wish. He put out the furnace lamp and walked back through the familiar streets.