Yan counted the week’s copper at Bai’s market stall after the last delivery. They spread the coins between two shallow bowls so they could separate the courier fees from what remained after the sale. Bai checked each entry in his route book while Yan matched the amounts against the receipts.
“Fees covered,” Bai said. He moved three coins to the side. “Stock paid back. This much is profit.”
The profit amounted to six copper pieces, small enough to cover a few meals or one repair at the tailor. Yan rolled the coins in his palm. “I’ll buy dinner for Ning.”
“You could put it toward your coat.”
“I can keep two coins for that.” Yan separated two and left four in the bowl. “The cuff can last another week.”
He bought roast duck from the corner stall, greens from a basket seller, and one bowl of sweet rice. The smell followed him home, drawing a curious glance from two workers near the quarters.
Ning was sorting dried herbs at the table. She looked up at the wrapped parcel and the covered bowl. “Have you started selling pills to nobles?”
“The nobles would complain about my prices.” Yan arranged the food across the table. “I bought dinner with three coins from the local trade.”
“Three coins?”
“Bai and I covered the courier fees and made a little profit. I kept two for the coat.”
Ning examined the duck. “This is a larger dinner than your numbers suggest.”
“The greens were cheap. The rice came from a stall closing for the day.”
She unfolded the duck parcel, revealing crisp skin and the dark glaze along its side. “Then I’m glad you went at closing.”
Bai arrived while Yan was setting out bowls. “I believe the roast duck was included in my courier fee.”
Ning raised an eyebrow. “Name the fee.”
Bai opened his route book. “One ordinary run costs—”
“And did Yan pay you that amount?”
“Exactly that amount.”
“Then the duck was paid by Yan.” Ning placed a bowl in front of him. “You can have a portion if you stop trying to invoice dinner.”
Bai sat. “A reasonable contract.”
They ate slowly, saving the sweet rice for last. The duck was salty and rich; Ning gave Bai the crispest piece because he had brought the stock through the market. Bai passed her a strip of meat from the center, and Yan filled her bowl with greens.
After the first serving, Ning pointed at the tag folded beside Yan’s notes. “May I see the ingredient copy?”
“It’s from the batch I bought yesterday.” Yan handed her the paper. “The actual packet is in my reject map.”
She read the ingredients and turned the tag over. “Warming root. That’s common in the cough broth the workers bring home.”
“It’s on this pill’s list too?”
“Here, near the bottom. The amount may differ, but it explains why the warmth feels familiar. I use a little of the same root when I make your throat tea.” She compared the batch tag to the treatment notes she kept in her pouch. “I should keep this stock separate from the ordinary broth ingredients. If I leave both on the same shelf, someone could mistake a pill packet for cooking herbs.”
Yan nodded. “I’ll mark the sleeve more clearly.”
Ning wrote the ingredient beside her treatment schedule, then returned the copied tag. She asked whether the pill had changed the appetite loss listed on its wrapper.
“That was a different batch. This one had a heat imbalance, and it turned into a smoother circulation for me.”
“So this tag is about the warming root, not the result.”
“Right. The source and batch stay with the test notes.”
“Good. I’ll keep my treatment notes separate too.” She folded her copy and slid it into the pouch. “The broth is for your throat, the pill has a cultivation label, and I don’t want either one mistaken for the other.”
Bai dipped the last piece of greens into the sauce. “I’m starting to think you two have a tag for everything.”
“If you want to remember what you paid for,” Yan said, “you write it down.”
Ning pushed the sweet rice bowl toward them. “Who gets the last spoonful?”
“I’m the courier,” Bai said. “I should take it.”
“I bought the food,” Yan replied.
Ning reached for the bowl, but Bai lifted it first and scraped the remaining rice into three small portions. “The courier gets cleanup duty. That means I distribute the last serving.”
He placed the biggest spoonful in Ning’s bowl. She passed part of it to Yan, and he gave Bai a smaller taste. They argued over whether the sweetness came from honey or cooked grain, then agreed the stall owner had added both.
When the bowls were empty, Ning made a decision about her next treatment week. “I’m keeping the schedule. I’ll ask the physician about moving to a lower-exposure station if the opening is still available.”
Yan started to answer, then stopped. She had already made her plan. “I can carry the request paper with the next fee.”
“That would help.” Ning tied the medicine pouch closed. “I don’t want to miss a dose while we wait to hear.”
Bai collected the bowls. “I’ll take them back to the wash basin. A courier who claims duck gets dish duty.”
“You claimed it before I asked,” Ning said.
“I was negotiating.”
“Then you negotiated yourself into washing.”
Bai bowed with the empty bowls balanced in his hands. “A costly lesson.”
After he left the table, Yan packed the remaining greens into a covered pot for breakfast. He set two copper beside his coat-repair tin. There was enough in his share to make a small repair without spending everything he had saved.
Ning glanced at the coins. “You kept some for yourself.”
“I did.”
“Good. Buy thread that matches the coat this time.”
“I’ll ask the tailor for a scrap.”
Bai returned after washing up. Ning handed him the last duck bone wrapped in a clean leaf. “Take this home for your dog.”
He bowed as if accepting a royal gift. Yan said, “The dog has better manners than the courier.”
“Your dog doesn’t have to count fees,” Bai replied.
Ning laughed. She took her small calendar from the shelf and wrote the next broth day beside her treatment appointment. Yan placed the labeled pill copy in the reject map pocket, while Ning kept her own note in the medicine pouch. The same ingredient appeared in two records, but each had its own purpose. Their dinner had been modest; the coins came from a trade Yan and Bai had built carefully, and there was enough left for a small repair to the coat.