Bai met Yan outside the labor quarters with two labeled packets in a blue-twine bundle. The source tags were still attached, and a white string marked the one containing warming root. Ning stood in the doorway with the leftover roast duck wrapped for breakfast.
“You’re collecting payment at my home now?” Yan asked.
“I’m collecting the payment you asked to defer until the next market day.” Bai held up the route book. “I need the money for the courier fee today.”
Yan checked the two tags. Both were sealed and came from the same returned lot, but the batch numbers differed. One listed weak qi accumulation; the other promised a warming effect. He had asked Bai to hold them until he could decide what to test. Now Bai needed the fee, and the agreement required payment before he took the packets.
“Can I defer one item until the next market day?” Yan asked. “I can pay for the other now.”
“No. I need enough to cover the route fee before I take the next run. I’m not charging you extra, but I can’t carry the cost for another week.”
Yan looked at the coins in his pouch. Paying for both would leave less for dinner and for the seamstress. The sealed packets were not urgent. “All right. I’ll pay in full, but keep them separate. I haven’t tested either.”
Bai named the agreed amount. Yan counted it onto Bai’s ledger, leaving only a few coins for his own meal. Bai wrote the payment and batch numbers down, then passed him the bundle.
Ning lifted the wrapped duck. “You can have this before it goes cold. There are buns left too.”
Bai took the parcel, then paused. “That’s your breakfast.”
“There is enough to share.”
He opened the wrap and cut the leg into three pieces with the small knife from his bag. “Business sample,” he said.
Ning raised an eyebrow. “You’ve already collected the courier fee.”
Bai admitted it was the best thing he had eaten all week and took the smallest portion. Yan and Ning shared the rest. The trade had paid for the pills, but it had left Yan with less for the evening meal. He ate a bun with his piece of duck and drank water.
Bai looked at Yan’s coat. “You should have left one coin for a seamstress. This cuff is still crooked.”
“It is a deliberate design.”
Ning leaned closer to inspect the stitch. “It is not. The thread pulls at the corner.”
Yan turned the cuff over. The straight line he had added earlier now showed against the older patch, one stitch tight and another loose. “The design has changed over time.”
Bai asked, “Does it cost one copper per compliment?”
“Two, now.”
Bai withdrew the praise he had not yet given. “I’ll keep my money.”
Ning laughed and set the remaining duck parcel on the table. She looked at Yan. “How much of your savings do you plan to spend on pills?”
“Enough to test batches that have complete source tags. I’m not using the unknown powder. I’m keeping money for food and your treatment.”
“And for things you want?”
Yan looked at the coat. “I’d like to fix the cuff properly. I don’t want every coin to go toward someone else’s needs.”
Ning’s expression softened. “That’s a better answer than saying you’ll give me everything.”
“I can buy useful things for myself and still help with the treatment.”
“Then take it to a seamstress before the next tear. Ask for a price first.”
“I can use part of the next market profit.”
Bai opened his book. “There’s a seamstress near my usual route. She takes copper and charges by the repair, not by the hour.” He wrote the name and street on the back of an old receipt. “Don’t tell her I sent you; she may charge you more.”
“I’ll tell her you sent me and ask for the posted price.”
“That is why I keep the route book.”
Bai gathered the blue and white twine from the bundle. Ning made him leave the white marking around the warming-root packet. “This one stays separate from the broth herbs.”
“I know. It’s written here too.” Bai tapped the ingredient note in his book. “The string helps me sort quickly; the source tag still goes with the pill.”
Ning nodded. “That’s what I wanted.”
After Bai left, Yan put the two packets in different sleeves in his tool chest. He wrote the price, source, and time received beside each entry and left the result column blank. The pills were sealed and untested. The white tie remained on the warming-root packet, clearly visible through the drawer opening.
Ning returned the remaining duck and buns to the covered pot. “We have less for dinner, but enough for breakfast.”
“And Bai got his route fee.”
“He charged what you agreed to pay.”
Yan checked the coins left in his pouch. One would go toward the cuff repair after his next market run; the rest would remain for food and the clinic plan. Ning kept the care estimate in her own box. The marked shift map and the stamped work restriction were beside it, waiting for the steward’s answer.
“Did you ever think you would bargain over colored string?” Ning asked.
“No.”
“Or buy dinner with a few coins from selling rejected pills?”
“No.”
She smiled. “Then the trade is doing something unexpected.”
“It’s paying the fees and leaving a little.”
“That’s something.” She picked up a bun and split it with him. “It doesn’t have to solve everything.”
Yan ate his half and left the last piece for her. He had two new batches to study, a small sum for the seamstress, and a treatment plan whose next step was in Ning’s hands. The coat would be repaired when he could afford it. He did not need to pretend the crooked cuff was fashionable until then.
The next afternoon Yan followed Bai’s directions to the seamstress’s stall. She had a narrow worktable under an awning, a spool rack at one side and a box of cloth scraps at the other. He showed her the cuff and asked for a price before she touched it.
“One copper if you bring matching thread,” she said. “Two if I have to find the closest color in my box.”
Yan turned the sleeve so she could see the old patch. “Can you reinforce the inside without replacing the whole cuff?”
“Yes. The cloth is worn, but it has not split. I’ll put a strip under the seam and take out the loose stitches.”
He checked the coin in his pocket. “I have one copper set aside. I can bring it after the next market run.”
“Then bring the coat and the coin together. I won’t keep a place open without payment.”
Yan agreed. The repair would use the coin he had set aside, but he would not spend it before Bai’s next run. He went back through the market with his cuff buttoned so the edge would not catch on a crate. The clothing was still his, and the repair remained a choice he could pay for when the trade allowed.