Yan came home carrying a roast duck leg wrapped in paper, three steamed buns, and two small jars of syruped fruit. He had used the week’s trade profit for the meal and kept his repair coins aside. Ning looked from the food to his clean blue coat.
“Did you win money at a dice table?”
“No.”
“Did you steal the duck?”
“No.” Yan set the buns on the table. “Bai and I have been trading labeled rejected pills. The fees and sales covered our costs, and there was a little left over. I used part of my share for dinner.”
“You’re buying and selling medicine?”
“Cultivation pills, with intact seals and source tags. Bai brings them. I read the labels and test only what I buy for myself. Some of the stock is sold sealed to people who want to ask the infirmary or read the instruction slip.”
Ning touched the paper around the duck. “And the pills you use?”
“The qi gain remains. The labels mention nausea or trembling on different batches. In me those changes settled into a comfortable stomach or a steadier grip. I don’t know why yet.”
“You told me about the System already. Keep the observations separate from guesses about it.”
“I do. I record the batch and what I felt. I don’t say the result will happen to someone else.”
“Does the label stay with each wrapper?”
“Yes. We keep the batches apart.” Yan brought his reject map from the shelf and opened it to the entries. “The knife cut at the yard still hurt. The cough tonic stayed ordinary. The pills aren’t the same as either one.”
Ning read the newest batch entry and saw the source, dose, listed effect, and result. She compared it to an earlier page. “You wrote that this one had a brief tremor.”
“It did. Then my grip steadied.”
“Did you use it before work?”
“After the shift. I was sitting down.”
“Good. Don’t take a new batch when you have to carry hot metal or heavy loads. If something starts differently, you need room to stop.”
“I can do that.”
She slid the treatment estimate from beneath the food cloth. It listed a costly lung-clearing course and a qi-strengthening supplement. Ning tapped the total with her fingernail. “The supplement can wait until my breathing improves. I want to ask about the cheaper inhalation plan first.”
Yan read the page. “I thought the full package was the only treatment because Physician He presented it all together.”
“The bill isn’t a sacred text.” She circled a duplicated fee. “This charge appears twice. And this supplement is for later, not for the first course.”
He felt relief, then irritation at himself for never asking. “I can take the list to the physician tomorrow.”
“I’ll ask the questions myself. You can come along and carry the food.”
“I will.”
They sat down to eat. The duck skin was crisp and the meat still warm. Ning opened one jar of fruit; the syrup smelled of plum and spice. Yan handed her the larger bun and kept the smaller one for himself.
She ate a piece of duck, then looked again at his coat. “You kept some money for your own things.”
“I have two coins for the cuff.”
“Then get thread that matches. The blue patch is better than the first repair, but you can still see where you changed color.”
“That means it’s a record of improvement.”
“It means the tailor will laugh at you.”
“Then I’ll ask for a scrap of matching thread and save the fee.”
Ning shook her head, smiling. “You have begun making every purchase into a calculation.”
“Only when I’m spending the last coin.”
She folded the treatment estimate and placed it beside the pill wrapper. “I want you to bring this too. I will explain the cough and ask which treatment is necessary now, what can wait, and what happens if I change stations.”
“I’ll carry the food and the paper.”
“And your pill label. I want to see the ingredients on the original, not only your copy.”
Yan added the tagged wrapper to the bundle. The seal was open because he had taken the dose, but the label and remaining pieces were intact. Ning checked the source and ingredient list. “At least this one says what the maker put in it.”
“It’s separate from your broth. I kept it in a marked sleeve.”
“Good. I don’t want any worker confusing these.” She returned the wrapper and pushed the fruit jar toward him. “You bought enough for several meals.”
“Only if we eat the fruit slowly.”
“Then we’ll eat one jar this week and save the other.”
Bai knocked at the open door and came inside with an empty bowl from the market stall. “I smelled duck. I assume this is part of my courier fee.”
Ning put the bowl down. “Name the fee.”
Bai laughed. “Yan paid for the courier runs. He bought dinner.”
“Then you can have a piece.” She cut a small portion and placed it in his bowl.
Bai sat beside the table and told them the route had gone well. He had kept the powder jars quarantined and the labeled packets separated by twine. Ning asked whether the new shelf tag had helped.
“The white string tells me which packets contain warming root,” he said. “I don’t have to read every tiny ingredient line while I’m sorting.”
“Keep it visible,” she said. “A color can prevent a mix-up, but the label still needs to travel with the pill.”
Bai nodded. “Both stay together.”
They ate the remaining duck and shared one bun. Ning placed the next appointment slip beside the treatment estimate. “I’m asking Physician He about the lower-exposure station. I’m not dropping the treatment, and I’m not buying every item in the expensive package before I know what each does.”
Yan nodded. “I was relieved when you circled the lower cost.”
“I was relieved when you asked me what I wanted instead of deciding for me.”
He looked down at the list. “I thought I was helping by assuming the bigger treatment was better.”
“You can help by coming to the appointment and carrying the food. I’ll ask what I need to ask.”
When they finished the meal, Ning folded the pill label into her treatment notes only long enough to compare the ingredients. Then she gave it back to Yan. Her medical plan remained with her, and his cultivation experiments remained in his separate record. Bai took the empty bowl and promised to return the next day with the courier receipts.
Ning saved the second fruit jar for the morning. Yan put the remainder of the duck into a covered pot. They had eaten more than usual, but the meal came from honest work and a small profit, not borrowed money or a gamble. The treatment estimate still demanded questions; at least now they knew which questions to ask.