I exhaled slowly as the sun finally climbed over the horizon, pale light slipping between the buildings across the street and reaching the window in thin bands of gold. The warmth wasn't strong yet. Morning still held onto the cold with stubborn fingers.
Adjusting my posture, I continued the exercise.
The wooden floor creaked faintly beneath me whenever my weight shifted. My legs still carried remnants of the voyage—stiff joints, heaviness in the lower back, the sort of fatigue stretching alone couldn't completely erase. I inhaled deeply through my nose, held it for a moment, then released it slowly.
Outside, birds had already begun their morning arguments.
Short chirps layered over distant carriage wheels and the muffled voices rising from the street below. Unlike the harbor at night, the city in the morning felt less overwhelming. The noise had not yet fully awakened into chaos. It stretched itself awake gradually, like someone reluctant to leave bed.
After another minute, I pushed myself upright.
"Ohh…"
My shoulders protested immediately.
I rolled them once, then twice, before bending into a stretch that pulled tension down my spine. The voyage had truly done a number on my body.
"I know I'm supposed to be quiet," I muttered to myself, arms raised overhead, "but it's fine since I'm not training, right?"
The excuse sounded reasonable enough to me.
Or maybe I just wanted it to.
The room had cooled overnight despite the thick curtains. My bare feet felt the chill trapped in the floorboards as I crossed toward the window.
The street below was already alive.
Workers moved between storefronts carrying crates balanced on their shoulders. A woman in a dark coat hurried past with a basket tucked beneath one arm while using the other to stop her hat from being stolen by the wind. Steam drifted from somewhere nearby, likely a food stall beginning breakfast preparations.
"Neat," I murmured.
I leaned farther out.
The ground immediately looked much farther away than it had yesterday.
"Oh—"
Dizziness tilted the world for half a second.
Too fast.
I pulled back quickly as a man below paused mid-step and glanced upward after hearing me.
Our eyes almost met.
I disappeared back inside at once.
"…Right."
The curtains swayed softly behind me from the draft.
"Bath time," I sighed.
The bathtub had rapidly become my favorite invention in this city.
Warm water filled the room with steam, softening the morning cold almost immediately. I sank into it carefully, letting heat settle into sore muscles one layer at a time. The floral scent of soap clung lightly to the air while the last traces of sleep slowly disappeared.
For a while, the only sounds were water shifting against porcelain and the distant pulse of the city beyond the walls.
Then came knocking.
"Are you ready?"
Qiang's voice carried through the door alongside several impatient taps.
"Just a moment," I called back while adjusting my Hanfu.
I hurried through the rest of dressing, fingers fumbling briefly with one sleeve before finally straightening everything properly. By the time I opened the door, Qiang was already standing there in his coat.
His eyes moved over me once.
"You took long enough."
"You survived."
He clicked his tongue softly and turned toward the stairs.
"Good morning," he said as we descended. "How was your night?"
The staircase rail felt cool beneath my hand.
"Good. The bed was nice," I replied. "Yours?"
"It was okay."
That sounded exactly like something he would say after sleeping in luxury.
We reached the lobby and handed our keys over to the receptionist. The woman behind the counter gave a small nod without interrupting her writing.
Outside, the cold hit properly this time.
Wind moved sharply between buildings, carrying the smell of damp stone and coal smoke. Nearly everyone on the street wore coats or layered clothing, shoulders tucked inward against the weather while continuing their routines regardless.
"Is there time for breakfast?" I asked, glancing briefly back toward the hotel.
Qiang adjusted one glove before raising a hand toward an approaching carriage.
"There's time. The Liaison building opens at nine, but I prefer arriving early."
The carriage rolled to a stop with a clatter of wheels.
"Breakfast somewhere else," I murmured while climbing inside. "Nice."
The interior smelled faintly of old leather and cedar. I settled near the window and adjusted my hat as the carriage lurched into motion once more.
The city unfolded differently in daylight.
The harbor district gradually gave way to broader streets lined with taller buildings. Gas lamps that had glowed warmly the night before now stood dull and grey beneath the pale morning sky. Shopkeepers opened shutters while chimneys released thin streams of smoke into the cold air.
"I wonder if there'll be waiters as helpful as the one from last night," I said idly, watching pedestrians move around one another with practiced rhythm.
Qiang didn't answer immediately.
"That depends," he finally said, eyes still forward, "on whether you behave."
"Tsk."
The carriage slowed.
Then stopped.
I looked out the opposite window and straightened immediately.
"Oh."
The building across the street dominated the entire block.
Stone columns framed the entrance, pale against the weak morning light. The structure rose with quiet confidence rather than extravagance, which somehow made it feel even more imposing. A row of trees stood near the entrance, most of their leaves already gone for winter. The few remaining ones trembled whenever the wind passed through.
Even from here, the Concord emblem above the entrance was visible.
Something about the place—
No.
Not the building itself.
What it represented.
We crossed the street together.
The closer we got, the quieter I became.
The building looked closed.
Mostly.
"There are people inside though," I pointed out after noticing movement beyond one of the tall windows.
"There usually are."
Qiang gestured slightly toward a tea shop farther down the road.
We entered.
Warmth greeted us first.
Then the smell of tea leaves and toasted bread.
The shop itself was small, tucked between larger buildings as though the city had nearly forgotten it existed. Wooden tables filled most of the interior, their surfaces uneven from years of use. Only three other customers occupied the room, all eating breakfast quietly beneath fogged windows.
We took a seat near the front.
"A cup of puer tea," Qiang said calmly before glancing at me. "Ai, what would you have?"
The old man standing nearby waited patiently.
I smiled awkwardly after realizing he had already been looking at me.
"Uh… Earl Grey, please. Good morning."
"Morning," the old man replied.
His voice carried the roughness of age without sounding tired.
"You two here to visit the Concord?"
He was already walking away before either of us properly answered.
I watched him disappear behind the counter.
"Can we look around afterward?" I asked quietly while picking up my chopsticks. "We still have spare time."
Qiang took a sip from the tea that had just arrived.
"No."
The answer came so simply that I nearly laughed.
"You're no fun."
"That has kept me alive."
I bit back a smile at that.
"Tsk."
I bit into a piece of tofu while staring out the window toward the Liaison building again.
The street outside had grown busier.
More carriages. More people. More smoke rising from food stalls. Somewhere nearby, someone shouted at another person over unloading cargo. The noise drifted in briefly whenever the shop door opened.
Then the bell above the entrance rang again.
"Old man! Coffee and some bread!"
A woman's voice entered before the person herself fully did.
"What'll you be having, Victoria?"
I turned instinctively.
Four people entered together, all wearing Concord attire.
Dark coats. Formal lines. Brass details that briefly caught the light before dulling again indoors.
"Dude, not so loud," another girl muttered as she stepped in while pulling off her gloves. "And I still don't know why we have to come out this early."
The others ignored her complaints with the familiarity of people who had heard them many times before.
I glanced toward Qiang.
He immediately looked out the window instead.
Coward.
"You're funny, Victoria," one of them said while taking a seat.
"A cup of coffee and the usual," the woman called out.
I tried not to stare.
Tried and failed.
The old man emerged carrying coffee cups balanced expertly on one hand.
"Morning, Grandpa," one of them greeted casually. "How's the family?"
The old man snorted softly while setting the drinks down.
"Still expensive."