Chapter 138: A Demon's Bargain?
Han Renyi stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror, adjusting the jade pendant that hung from his neck. The piece was beautiful despite its age – intricate carvings of mountains and rivers adorned its surface, telling stories of a more prosperous time. It was also the last valuable item his family owned, a bitter reminder of how far the once-mighty Han merchant clan had fallen.
"Young Master," a servant called from outside his door, "your father requests your presence in the main hall."
Renyi sighed, running a hand through his jet-black hair. He'd tied it back in a loose ponytail, a style that managed to look both respectable and slightly rebellious – much like himself, he supposed. His green eyes, unusual in this part of the world, met their reflection's gaze.
"Tell him I'll be there shortly," he called back, straightening his robes. They were well-made but showing signs of wear – much like everything else in the Han household these days.
The walk through the family compound was a study in faded glory. Wooden panels that had once gleamed with polish now showed their age, and gaps in the roof tiles let in streams of early morning light. They still maintained appearances in the areas visitors might see, but it was a losing battle against time and dwindling resources.
"Young Master Han!" Old Po, their last remaining gardener, waved from where he was fighting a losing battle against a particularly aggressive patch of weeds. "The peonies are blooming early this year!"
Renyi managed a smile. Old Po had been with the family longer than Renyi had been alive, and he still tended the gardens with the same dedication he'd shown in their more prosperous days, even though they could barely afford to pay him anymore.
"They look beautiful, Uncle Po," Renyi said, using the familiar form of address the old man had earned through decades of service. The flowers really did look lovely, spots of defiant color amid the general decline.
"Ah, but you should have seen them in your grandfather's time," Old Po sighed. "Back then, the rouqi was so thick in the air, you could almost taste it.”