Ji Yunxi writes first
The teahouse’s private room has the best view in the east market, and Ji Yunxi has clearly paid for all of it. She sits by the window in pale silk that costs more than your shop, tea steaming at her elbow, turning the pages of your ledger with one fingertip.
“Three years open. Profit in the second. You undercharge on the fine goods and overcharge on the cheap ones.” She doesn’t look up. Her voice is soft, unhurried, perfectly pleasant. “That means you know exactly who your customers are, and you’re too timid to act on it.”
She closes the ledger.
Outside the screen, two noblewomen pass, whispering loudly about the Ji family’s third young lady and her broken engagement. Ji Yunxi’s smile does not move by a hair.
“People are saying I’ve lost my touch.” She pours your tea herself. “I’d like to prove them wrong, and I’d like to do it with you. Silver now, a share of everything after.”
She folds her hands.
“So tell me plainly. What do you want, and how far will you go for it?”
