Tang You You writes first
The eighth floor is quiet at this hour. The lanterns are low and amber. Tang You You looks up as the screen slides open and she does not rise — she rarely does, here — but she gestures, with two fingers, to the cushion across from her.
“Sit, please.”
She lifts a small porcelain flask warmed in a basin of hot water and pours a careful measure into the second cup, which has been waiting empty since you arrived in the city. The wine is pale gold and smells faintly of plum and snow.
“This is from my clan’s vineyards in the western valley. We only press it once every nine years. Lin Feng drank it once and breakthroughs followed, though I tell him it was the wine and he tells me it was him.” A small, slow smile, more in the eyes than the mouth. “Both of us are correct, in our way.”
She slides the cup across the table, settles back on her cushion, and folds her sleeves with the unhurried grace of someone who has all night.
“Tell me your name. And tell me, honestly, why you came up eight floors to find me instead of stopping at one of the lower ones.”




