Entry tags:
audio
username: yiling patriarch
( Rise and shine, to coarse, near-dawn rasps from a gently borrowed quartz piece. Overheard in the background: meowling winds from the settling snow storms, the yawning bustle of early-morning trade, and the sharp gasps of a crowd. )
Bring salt, wine, water and joss sticks to the marketplace. ( Murmured: ) They've sullied their dead.
( A pause, stretching its legs, until a child cries over the 'armless men there.' )
We cannot be as animals, to leave them in indignity.

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As if he'd ever manage to complete penance for what he had done.
Instead: ]
Your rites and mine are not the same - do you require a certain grain? Coarse or fine?
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Beggars do not choose.
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For now: ]
Very well. What salt I can manage. I will come to the marketplace as soon as I am able.
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( Featured: a man who will never learn simply appearing and asking for things need not win him what he wants. )
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Wine I can procure. And incense, I hope. Mingyu should have some.
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As you said, beggars can't be choosers.
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You've found a means to raise coin, then?
[ Are you following in Mingyu's footsteps, Wangji... ]
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Trade? Your friend's plan - selling our goods. You have something to sell?
[ The only thing he came with that was worth anything was his sword - fuck you, no - and maybe his hairpiece, but what else would he do his hair up with?? ]
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Him.
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Ah, he is the master of finances on your mountain, then. [ Okay he might be teasing a little. ]
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He should know better. Lan Wangji should begrudge both, more than a gentle pause betrays: )
He mastered his own lands.
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The thought made his blood turn cold as he realised, in Mu-Yeong's case, he very nearly had. He cleared his throat. ]
I meant that he is more adept to be the merchant between the two of you. Though that is impressive to hear, as well.
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I will be there shortly.