Threads 90-Dinner 1

Ling Qi almost, almost blurted out a denial and a change of subject. “That sounds fine,” she managed instead. “Did you have a place in mind?”

It happened so fast that she could have imagined it, but she thought she saw Bao Qian do a double take. “Nothing ostentatious. Perhaps the Silver Orchid?”

That was a teahouse and eatery in the central part of the village. It mostly served traveling cultivators and sect disciples with loose income. That didn’t sound so bad. It was an open floor place. “Fine,” she replied mechanically.

<You sure about this, Ling Qi? You don’t have to force yourself,> Sixiang murmured.

Bao Qian, too, was eyeing her stiff expression with a critical eye. “Miss Ling, if you are busy, just say so. I am not attempting to call in a favor or anything of the sort.”

Ling Qi gritted her teeth. “I’m sorry if it seemed that way,” she said. “I really don’t mind.”

“As you say,” he said dubiously. “Well, I won’t retract my invitation. I will meet you there in one hour?”

Ling Qi gave a shallow bow. “I will see you there,” she said politely before turning away.

What had she gotten herself into?

***

<So, again, the first thing you need to do is relax,> Sixiang reminded. <You’re just eating dinner and chatting. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that. Treat it like you did the little trip with Suyin and the other guy.>

“I know that,” Ling Qi hissed as she approached the gate of the town. She had settled Zhengui and Hanyi in for the night, and now, there were no more ready delays.

She knew she was being irrational. She wasn’t being coerced into going to some seedy bar. They would be sitting in the open at a restaurant run and staffed by retired disciples of the Sect. Given her appearance, Bao Qian could not, despite his ready compliments, be particularly interested in her physically. Even if she somehow was in danger, she was strong. She was a direct retainer to Duchess Cai’s heir. Her best friend was Bai Meizhen. And she had defeated whole bands of bandits and driven off barbarians by the score.

There was nothing to be scared of. She had power. She had control. She was not selling herself. It was fine.

<Not quite the pep talk I would have gone with, but whatever works for you,> Sixiang muttered awkwardly. <But you’re gonna be late if you dawdle anymore.>

Ling Qi stepped through the village gates. No more dithering. She could do this.

She found Bao Qian waiting outside the establishment, his arms clasped behind his back. He had changed into a different robe since she had seen him last. It was a thing of dark greens and blacks with an only mildly ostentatious gold sash wrapped around his waist. More casual than his usual wear, it hung partially open at the top displaying a slice of his broad chest. She kept her expression even.

“Greetings, Miss Ling. I admit I was growing concerned that you had changed your mind,” the older boy greeted her as she approached.

“My apologies. Zhengui was still a little energetic,” she replied. It wasn’t really a lie.

“Partially my fault, I suppose. I know business negotiations can be dull for children. Shall we go in? I sent ahead to reserve us a table.”

Ling Qi glanced inside to the brightly lit interior. Paper lanterns hung from the awning, and inside, faintly glowing lamps hung from the walls, casting the interior in warm colors. “Lead on.”

Bao Qian nodded affably, leading her inside. Thankfully, he made no move to take her hand or arm. The inside of the Silver Orchid was nice. The floor was richly carpeted, the furniture well made, and the scent of the kitchens was enticing enough, too. Ling Qi distracted herself by focusing on these little details as a server led them to their table set against the rear wall of the room.

“I’m surprised that places that only cater to cultivators like this exist,” Ling Qi said a touch nervously as she sat down across from Bao Qian. “It’s not like we need to eat often.”

“Ah, but there are many things that we do not fundamentally need that we want. If needs were all that mattered, we would hardly have empires or cities,” Bao Qian replied, taking his own seat as the server gave them a quiet bow and stepped away.

“I suppose you’re right, but it still feels wasteful,” Ling Qi said, looking at the ostentatious meals being eaten by people who needed little more than a bit of bread and water every month or so.

“If it makes you feel better, most ingredients used in cultivator cooking come from spiritually rich material,” Bao Qian said. “Hardly palatable for mortal bellies.”

“Is that so?” Ling Qi asked, perking up. “Are there any cultivation benefits?”

<Of course you would ask that,> Sixiang sighed.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Bao Qian chuckled. “Not for the fare in a place like this. Culinary cultivators do exist, but it is considered a branch of pill and elixir craft. My great-aunt Qiao is one such, and I must tell you, her meals are an experience.”

Ling Qi raised her eyebrows at the emphasis he put on the last word. “I think I might like to try that sometime,” she said before she could catch herself. Spirits, that was such an obvious opening…

“Not too difficult, I think. While I must be filial, lesser culinary cultivators are not rare. You simply need to go to a proper city.”

“I hope I can find time to travel then,” Ling Qi said carefully.