Marked by the Four Beast Lords After Transmigration

Ren arrived in Hearthfang with two men and a long bundle wrapped in rough travel cloth.

Nia was coming back from the lower kitchen with Shen when she saw them near the eastern turn. One of Ren’s men carried the bundle across his shoulder. The second had a smaller lidded basket tied securely for travel. Ren walked ahead of both, speaking with one of Kael’s route workers.

His dark-red hair was tied away from his face for the road, though several strands had worked loose near his temple. The red-fox ears above it turned toward Nia before he did.

Then his eyes found her, and his familiar smirk appeared.

“Careful,” she said. “You look like you came here to work.”

“I was hoping the bundle would disguise that.”

The man carrying it looked at Ren.

Ren ignored him.

Another carrying pair came through the passage behind Nia. Shen put his hand against her back and guided her closer to the wall until they passed.

Nia nodded toward the bundle. “What did you bring?”

“Replacement pieces for the eastern shelter rack. The old crosspieces are splitting near the ends.”

“So you really did come here to work.”

“I do that occasionally.”

The man behind him adjusted the bundle against his shoulder.

Ren stepped aside at once. His red tail moved clear of the man's path as he told him, “Take it through. Kael said the old pieces are stacked beside the eastern wall.”

The two men continued. The route worker went with them.

Nia watched them disappear around the turn.

“Are you leaving right away?”

Ren glanced toward the chief-work side of Hearthfang. “Not unless Kael has decided to solve every problem before I reach him. I still need to check the shelter count with him, and there are two carrying agreements he wanted to see.”

“And after that?”

His attention returned to her.

“I have no load leaving before evening.”

“Then stay for dinner.”

For the smallest moment, Ren said nothing.

His smirk remained.

Nia waited.

“I would be delighted.”

She started past him with Shen.

“Should I bring anything?” Ren asked.

“No.”

“Nothing?”

“You’re already here.”

Shen continued beside her until they reached the next turn.

“You surprised him.”

Nia glanced back. Ren had already disappeared toward the chief-work side of Hearthfang.

“He didn’t look surprised.”

“He rarely does.”

“What gave him away?”

Shen adjusted the basket on his arm. “I have known him longer than you have, and the greens are wilting while you interrogate me.”

Nia bumped her shoulder lightly against his arm.

Shen’s mouth curved.

By the time they reached home, she had mostly turned her attention to dinner.

Shen had set aside a piece of river fish from the morning division. The basket held broad spring greens and several pale roots that would roast quickly if Nia cut them thin enough.

She washed the greens while Shen checked the fish for bones.

Nia reached toward the dried redneedle.

Shen looked up.

“Put that in your portion.”

“You can handle some.”

“I can handle the amount I prefer.”

His tone ended the argument before she could begin one.

Nia laughed and took the barrier cloth before handling the pod.

They kept the hotter finishing mixture separate. Shen prepared the larger mild portion while Nia worked a smaller amount of redneedle into hers.

Kael came home while the roots were roasting.

Stone dust marked one sleeve, and the outside air still clung to his clothes. He removed his shoes, crossed the room, and put a hand at Nia’s waist.

She turned into him automatically.

His kiss was warm and brief.

“You ate?”

“Yes.”

Shen, still near the hearth, said, “Half a root cake.”

“It was a large half.”

Kael looked at her.

Nia pointed toward the hearth. “Dinner is almost done.”

He accepted that and reached for one of the roasted roots.

Shen struck the back of his hand with a folded cloth.

Kael withdrew it.

Nia laughed.

“Ren is staying for dinner.”

“He finished his business,” Kael said. “The shelter count matched. We checked the carrying agreements after that.”

Nia looked toward the entrance. “You could have told me.”

“He knows where the door is.”

The faint shift at the corner of Kael’s mouth told her he knew exactly why that answer annoyed her.

A knock sounded against the outer frame.

Nia looked at him.

Kael opened the door.

Ren stood outside.

He had washed since Nia saw him below. The road dust was gone from his hands and face, and his dark-red hair had been retied neatly behind him. The shorter strands near his temple still refused to stay caught. His ears were clean of the fine road dust that had dulled their fur earlier, and his tail looked freshly brushed rather than carrying half the eastern path through their home.

He carried no ledger, route strip, sample packet, or goods.

Nia looked at his empty hands.

Ren noticed.

“You actually brought nothing,” she said.

“You told me not to.”

Kael stepped away from the entrance.

“Come in.”

Ren removed his outer shoes and entered.

Nia turned toward the hearth. “You’re early enough to help. Take those bowls to the table.”

Ren looked at the bowls and then at her.

“I see the invitation has changed.”

“You still want dinner?”

He picked them up.

Nia smiled and carried the greens after him.

Ren returned for the cups without being asked.

Kael sat near the table cutting a short length of fresh cord from a larger coil he had brought inside. Shen moved the fish away from the hottest part of the hearth.

Nia set down the greens.

As she passed Kael, he caught her lightly at the hip.

She stopped.

He pulled a small dried leaf from the side of her skirt and held it up.

Nia stared at it. “How long was that there?”

“Before I came in.”

She turned toward Shen. His complete lack of surprise answered her before she asked.

“You saw it and left it?”

“It was not causing a problem.”

Nia shook her head and sat.

Across the table, Ren was smiling.

“Not one word.”

He lifted both hands and kept his opinion to himself.

Shen brought the fish over and took the place beside Nia. Kael sat on her other side.

Ren settled across from them.

Shen’s tail curved behind Nia’s chair and rested loosely around her ankle.

She barely noticed.

Ren looked at the food.

“This smells different.”

“River-sour,” Nia said. “The last of the earlier sample.”

“The twenty-four should move soon. Four pieces needed longer drying, but the buyer said they were still sound.”

Shen asked about the thicker centers, and Ren confirmed that was the only problem.

“Better to wait,” Shen said.

Kael broke one of the roasted roots in half. “The buyer reported the same through the trade shelter.”

That settled the business.

Nia took some fish and passed it to Shen. He moved the hotter finishing bowl toward her before taking the mild one for himself.

Ren recognized the redneedle and chose the mild portion.

Kael did not.

He reached toward Nia’s bowl.

She pulled it out of reach. “You took half of mine last time. Shen made plenty of the other one.”

Kael looked at Shen.

“You did not ask for a hotter portion,” Shen said.

Kael took the mild mixture.

Nia smiled and tasted her fish.

The river-sour came first, followed by the heat of the redneedle. The roasted roots softened the sharper edge.

“Good. Don’t add any more sour next time.”

Shen tasted his portion and agreed.

Kael had already started eating.

Ren tried his.

Nia watched his face.

“The sour stays longer than I expected,” he said after a second bite. “The seller uses it with fatty river meat, but I have never eaten it this way.”

“That’s why I wanted the smaller lot first. I didn’t know whether it would work once it was mixed into other food.”

Ren nodded and took another bite.

Conversation moved with the meal.

Kael asked about the northern carriers. Both shoulder loads had crossed Hearthfang before the route changed again, while the cart remained on the older road.

Ren mentioned the fruit seller who had wanted three baskets cleared from her stall even though he only had carriers for two.

Nia listened until he described the woman trying to make the lack of available shoulders his problem.

“What happened to the third basket?”

“I left it.”

“She let you?”

Ren looked amused. “She did not have to let me do anything. I had no one to carry it.”

“She complained after he left too,” Shen said.

Ren stopped with his cup halfway to his mouth.

Nia looked between them.

“You know her?”

“I know the seller,” Shen said. “She used to bring dried fruit to the western meeting ground.”

Ren set his cup down. “And complain that every buyer arrived either too early or too late.”

“Usually both.”

“That was her?”

Shen nodded.

Ren leaned back. “You could have warned me.”

“You did not ask.”

Nia laughed.

Ren pointed at Shen. “She once spent half a negotiation telling me my carriers were blocking the front of her stall. When I moved them, she complained that buyers could no longer see how much I intended to purchase.”

“That sounds like her.”

“She also accused one of my workers of frightening away a customer.”

“What did he do?” Nia asked.

“Stood there.”

Kael looked up from his food.

Ren continued. “Apparently he stood there too broadly.”

Nia laughed harder.

Shen’s mouth curved. “She told me once that my tail made her stall look crowded.”

Nia turned toward him.

“You?”

“I was buying dried plums.”

“Were you in the way?”

“No.”

Ren shook his head. “I believe him. She would complain about an empty road if it did not pass her stall correctly.”

Kael finished another root. “Why do people keep buying from her?”

“Good fruit,” Shen and Ren said together.

They looked at each other.

Nia laughed again.

“There it is.”

Ren sighed. “Unfortunately, competence protects many irritating people.”

Kael gave him a level look.

Ren paused.

Nia saw the moment he realized what he had said.

Shen lowered his cup.

Ren's smirk sharpened. “I was speaking about the seller.”

“Of course,” Nia said.

Kael kept eating.

Ren told them about a trader farther east who had spent the morning insisting his covered baskets were easier to identify without markers because he knew every knot himself.

Nia looked at him. “That only works while he is standing there.”

“That was also my opinion.”

“What happened when somebody else moved one?”

“He accused the carrier of putting it in the wrong place.”

Shen asked, “Had he?”

“No. The trader had forgotten which basket he tied first.”

Kael looked unimpressed.

Ren tore another piece of fish apart with his fingers. “His wife eventually came over, marked every basket, and told him he was no longer allowed to explain the system to anyone.”

Nia laughed. “I like her.”

“I had known her for less than five minutes and agreed completely.”

“Did he?”

“He carried the marking strips for her.”

“That sounds like agreement.”

“It was the safest version available.”

The conversation drifted after that. Shen knew another household that marked nearly identical herb bundles by tying the cord at different heights. Kael preferred marks that could still be understood by someone who had not packed the load. Nia admitted that if a system depended on her remembering which knot she tied first, the system had already failed.

Ren smiled across the table.

“I will remember that before I let you organize one of my trade loads.”

“I wasn't volunteering.”

“Good. We have protected both of us.”

Shen reached across Nia for more fish.

She leaned against his shoulder to give him room instead of shifting her chair.

His tail moved with her ankle.

Across the table, Ren’s tail gave one short sweep against the floor and stopped.

His smirk never changed.

Shen looked at him.

Ren met his eyes.

Neither said anything.

Nia separated another piece of fish while Kael asked Ren whether the marked baskets were traveling west.

The moment passed.

A little later, only a small piece of fish remained.

Nia reached for it at the same time Kael did.

Kael was faster.

She stared at his plate.

“You already ate more than everyone.”

“I am larger than everyone.”

“That does not make the last piece automatically yours.”

He ate it.

Shen looked at him.

Nia pointed toward the hearth. “You are cleaning the fish pan.”

Kael stood, picked up the pan, and carried it toward the washing side.

Ren laughed hard enough that he had to put his cup down.

Nia looked at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“That sounded suspicious.”

She smiled and gathered the empty serving bowl.

“Help.”

Ren stood.

They cleared the table together.

Kael washed the fish pan. Shen wrapped the remaining roasted roots for morning. Nia dried the bowls as they came from the basin.

Ren carried the cups over and rinsed the last one himself.

For a few minutes, the room was filled with water, dishes, cloth moving over clay, and the quiet sounds of people working around one another.

Shen reached past Nia for the hanging cloth.

Kael handed her another bowl.

Ren stepped aside to let them pass.

When the last cup reached her, Nia dried it and put it on the shelf beside the other three.

Ren looked at the row.

Then he picked up the damp table cloth and carried it to Shen without comment.

The room returned to its usual order.

Kael dried his hands. “You are taking the lower road?”

“Eastern shelter first,” Ren said.

“Use the upper turn. The lower stones are damp near the water cut.”

“I saw the marker.”

Kael gave a short nod.

Ren went to the entrance and put on his outer shoes.

Nia followed him.

Without the meal, goods, or business between them, the doorway felt oddly quiet.

Ren straightened.

“Thank you.”

“For feeding you?”

“For asking.”

Nia looked at him.

His usual smirk was there, but there was no joke behind the words.

“You were already in Hearthfang.”

“That does make it convenient.”

She heard the second meaning anyway.

Ren stepped into the passage.

“Good night, Nia.”

“Good night.”

He said his good nights to Kael and Shen and turned toward the upper passage.

Nia watched until his red tail disappeared around the turn.

When she closed the door, Shen was folding the last drying cloth.

Kael stood near the shelf with a cup in his hand.

Ren’s.

“Where does this go?”

“The guest shelf.”

Kael placed it there.

Nia went back to the table and helped Shen fold the cloth.