The first rule of bargaining was to know what the other person wanted.
The second was to make certain they did not know how badly you wanted something in return.
Lin Han had learned both lessons long before he understood their names.
He had learned them from hungry men exchanging food for favors, from overseers who promised easier assignments in exchange for obedience, and from officials who could turn a simple request into a debt that lasted for years.
But he had never bargained with a woman from a conquered kingdom.
And he had certainly never bargained with one who seemed to know more about Heiyang's grain shipments than she was willing to admit.
The merchant household was preparing to leave when Lin Han saw Mei Ling again.
Two carts stood near the eastern gate. The third had been moved beneath a covered shed, where a wheelwright was replacing a damaged axle pin.
Lu Wen argued with the craftsman over the cost.
Mei Ling stood beside the cart, studying a narrow wooden slip.
Lin Han was carrying a bundle of empty grain sacks toward the storage yard.
He would have passed without speaking.
"Lin Han."
He stopped.
"Madam."
"Do you have a moment?"
He glanced toward the overseer's platform.
"Not a long one."
"Then I will be brief."
She folded the slip and placed it inside her sleeve.
"I have been thinking about your answer yesterday."
"Which answer?"
"About shipments."
Lin Han kept his expression neutral.
"I remember."
"You said that if a shipment failed to arrive, you would begin with the person who claimed to have received it."
"Yes."
"Would you still begin there if the receiving acknowledgment bore an official seal?"
Lin Han felt a small tightening in his chest.
"That would depend."
"On what?"
"Whether the seal belonged to the receiving office."
Mei Ling studied him.
"And if it did?"
"Then I would ask whether the person who applied it had actually seen the goods."
A faint smile appeared.
"You have thought about this before."
"I have carried enough goods to know that records and cargo do not always travel together."
"An interesting distinction."
"It is an ordinary one."
"Not to everyone."
Lin Han looked toward the gate.
The morning guards were inspecting a departing cart.
He had no reason to believe anyone was listening.
That did not make the conversation safe.
"What shipment concerns you?" he asked.
Mei Ling's smile disappeared.
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then she answered.
"One connected to a merchant whose name I recognize."
"From Chu?"
"From several places."
"Does he owe your household money?"
"Not directly."
"Then why does his business concern you?"
She looked at him with an expression that was almost approving.
"You ask questions carefully."
"I prefer answers that are useful."
"So do I."
They regarded each other in silence.
Then Mei Ling said, "His name is Luo Jian."
Lin Han searched his memory.
He had heard the name.
Not often.
Once in the transport yard, spoken by a clerk arranging hired carts.
Another time during an argument over delivery expenses.
He could not remember the exact dates.
"Who is he?" Lin Han asked.
"A transport intermediary."
"That describes many men."
"This one arranges carts and receiving agents for merchants who cannot accompany their goods."
"Does he work for the state?"
"Sometimes. His commercial connections make him useful to offices that need additional transport."
Lin Han considered that.
A man who arranged transportation might know where goods were supposed to go.
He might also know where they actually went.
"Why are you telling me this?"
Mei Ling looked toward the administrative buildings.
"Because I believe one of his arrangements was not recorded honestly."
Lin Han felt his pulse quicken.
He kept his voice steady.
"Then you should report it."
"To whom?"
"The receiving office."
"And if the receiving office accepted the record?"
"Then the supervising office."
"And if the supervising office authorized the arrangement?"
Lin Han said nothing.
Mei Ling watched him.
"You see the difficulty."
He did.
More clearly than he wanted to admit.
A guard called for the laborers to clear the road.
Lin Han stepped aside.
Mei Ling moved with him beneath the shade of the storage wall.
Their conversation had lasted too long already.
He should leave.
Instead, he asked, "What do you want from me?"
Mei Ling looked surprised.
"An answer."
"You have asked several."
"And you have given very few."
"Then you should understand why I am asking."
She considered him.
At last, she reached inside her sleeve and withdrew a folded piece of cloth.
Within it lay two narrow wooden slips.
She showed him the first.
It contained a short commercial entry: a transport arrangement, a date, a quantity of hired capacity, and a name.
Luo Jian.
Lin Han examined it without touching it.
"Where did you get this?"
"From a merchant account."
"Whose?"
"Someone who permitted me to examine it."
"Does Lu Wen know?"
"That is not important."
"It may become important if someone asks how you obtained it."
Mei Ling folded the cloth slightly.
"You are concerned about my safety?"
"I am concerned about being questioned alongside you."
She gave a brief laugh.
"That is fair."
Lin Han looked again.
The entry described a cart arrangement near a route connected to Heiyang.
But it did not identify a specific state grain consignment.
Nor did it establish that Luo Jian had received anything improper.
"This proves he arranged transport," Lin Han said.
"Yes."
"Nothing more."
"Not by itself."
She revealed the second slip.
It was a copy of a private account entry.
A payment had been recorded for temporary storage and cart services.
The location was abbreviated.
The date fell near the period of the disputed grain movement.
Lin Han examined the characters.
He recognized the general area.
But the destination was not East Ridge Station.
He felt his attention sharpen.
"Is this connected to the first entry?"
"I believe so."
"Believe?"
"The payment was entered under a related account. The original transaction notes are not in my possession."
"Then you cannot prove they refer to the same goods."
"No."
"Or that the goods were grain."
"No."
"Or that the goods belonged to the state."
Mei Ling looked at him.
"No."
Lin Han studied her.
She had answered each question without attempting to conceal the weaknesses in her evidence.
That was unusual.
Most people presenting a claim preferred to make it sound stronger than it was.
Mei Ling seemed more interested in discovering what it could withstand.
"Why show me something you cannot prove?" he asked.
"Because I suspect you know what kind of shipment might fit the dates."
The words settled between them.
Lin Han did not move.
He had been careful.
He had not mentioned the nine hundred shi.
He had not mentioned East Ridge's disputed quantity.
He had not spoken of Wei Rong.
Yet Mei Ling had reached the edge of the same question.
"You're mistaken," he said.
"Perhaps."
"Then you should ask someone with access to the records."
"I intend to."
"Good."
She folded the slips.
"But you might be able to tell me which records would matter."
Lin Han looked toward the yard.
"I am a penal laborer."
"I know."
"I cannot inspect official accounts."
"I know that too."
"Then you are asking the wrong person."
Mei Ling's expression became serious.
"No. I am asking someone who understands the difference between what a document says and what it proves."
For a moment, Lin Han found no answer.
Then he said, "Understanding is not authority."
"No," she replied. "But it is where authority should begin."
The conversation ended when Overseer Gao appeared at the far end of the yard.
Lin Han noticed him before Mei Ling did.
"I must go."
"Wait."
"I have work."
"There is something else."
Lin Han shook his head.
"Not here."
He lifted the grain sacks and walked away.
He did not look back.
But the name remained in his thoughts.
Luo Jian.
A transport intermediary.
A private storage payment.
A location that was not East Ridge.
The pieces suggested a possibility.
They did not yet form a conclusion.
Lin Han had learned the danger of confusing the two.
At midday, the workers received a slightly larger ration.
The change was small, but noticeable.
Shen examined his bowl with suspicion.
"Someone must have complained loudly enough."
Lin Han sat beside him.
"Or another delivery arrived."
"Does it matter?"
"It might."
Shen began eating.
"Only you could turn more food into another question."
Lin Han said nothing.
He had noticed a grain cart entering the compound that morning.
It might explain the improvement.
Or the granary office might have released a larger portion from its reserves.
He did not know.
That uncertainty irritated him more than it should have.
He was beginning to see every event as a possible part of the missing shipment.
A late cart.
An altered record.
A merchant's name.
A widow's fragment.
If he continued, he might eventually construct an explanation from coincidences and mistake it for truth.
He needed a way to test the evidence.
And Mei Ling had access to commercial records he could never obtain himself.
The realization was unwelcome.
It meant he might need her.
That afternoon, Lin Han encountered Tian Bo beside the transport yard.
The sergeant was inspecting a cart whose wheel had begun to split.
"Lin Han."
"Sergeant."
"Come here."
Lin Han approached.
Tian Bo pointed to the damaged wheel.
"How far do you think this cart will travel?"
Lin Han examined the crack.
"Not far under a full load."
"How far?"
"I cannot say without knowing the road."
Tian Bo nodded.
"Good. Most men would give me a number."
He crouched beside the wheel.
"A number sounds useful. Until someone believes it."
Lin Han looked at the axle.
"Will you replace it?"
"If I can find a wheel that fits."
"And if you cannot?"
"I reduce the load or leave the cart behind."
The sergeant stood.
"That is the trouble with transport. The accounts tell you what should move. The road tells you what can."
Lin Han considered the words.
"Sergeant, may I ask something?"
"Go on."
"Can a transport intermediary change the destination of a shipment?"
Tian Bo looked at him.
"Not lawfully merely because he wishes to."
"What if the original route becomes impassable?"
"Then the responsible officer must arrange and record what is done. The details depend on the authority involved."
"Would the intermediary receive new instructions?"
"He should."
"And if he did not?"
Tian Bo studied him.
"Why?"
"I was wondering how commercial carts are assigned."
The sergeant did not answer immediately.
Then he said, "A man who arranges carts can change where his own drivers go. That does not give him authority to change where state grain belongs."
Lin Han nodded.
"Thank you."
Tian Bo stepped closer.
"Listen carefully."
Lin Han lowered his eyes.
"If you're trying to understand transport, learn the roads first. A cart cannot be in two places at once. A driver cannot cover three days' journey in one."
"Yes, Sergeant."
"And if someone claims otherwise, ask who benefits from the claim."
Lin Han looked up.
Tian Bo's expression was stern.
"That is not an invitation to investigate every official in Heiyang."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
Lin Han hesitated.
"Not completely."
The sergeant gave a tired smile.
"Then perhaps there's hope for you."
By late afternoon, Lu Wen's damaged cart had been repaired.
The merchant household would depart the following morning.
Lin Han learned this from the stable attendants.
He spent the remainder of the day considering whether to approach Mei Ling again.
He could simply allow her to leave.
That would be safest.
She knew little about him.
He knew little about her.
Their interests might overlap only by coincidence.
But he remembered the private account.
A payment for storage and transport near the disputed route.
The entry might be unrelated.
Yet if it was connected, it offered something the official records could not.
An independent account of movement outside the state offices.
That was valuable.
He decided to speak with her once more.
Not because he trusted her.
Because he wanted to know what she would demand.
He found her beside the repaired cart as the evening shadows lengthened.
She was checking the bindings on a leather case.
When she saw him, she set it down.
"I wondered whether you would return."
"I nearly didn't."
"Why?"
"Because I don't know what you want."
Mei Ling considered him.
"Then I should explain."
"Yes."
She looked toward the merchant's lodging.
"My family once held property in Chu."
Lin Han remained silent.
"Land, household records, obligations owed by others. After the conquest, much of it was registered under new authorities."
"That happened to many families."
"Yes."
"Why does it concern Heiyang?"
"Some of the records relating to those confiscations passed through administrative offices outside the former Chu territories. I have been tracing references to them."
Lin Han frowned.
"Why would a supply compound have records of confiscated property?"
"It might not. But transport accounts sometimes identify goods, households, and officials connected to transfers. A reference in one office can lead to a record in another."
He considered that.
She was not claiming that Heiyang possessed the original confiscation register.
She was searching for a trail.
"What are you looking for?"
"A household designation."
"Whose?"
"My family's."
"Why?"
Mei Ling's expression changed.
For the first time, she looked uncertain.
Then she answered.
"Because I want to know what was taken, who received it, and whether the account was ever closed."
Lin Han studied her.
"Do you intend to recover the property?"
"That would depend on what I discover."
"Under Qin law?"
"Under whatever circumstances make it possible."
The answer was careful.
Too careful.
Lin Han recognized the anger beneath it.
"You want me to examine official records," he said.
"I want to know whether you can identify where a relevant reference might be found."
"That is different from what you asked before."
"Yes."
"Why not say it directly?"
"Because I did not know whether you could be trusted."
Lin Han almost laughed.
"And now you do?"
"No."
The answer surprised him.
Mei Ling continued.
"But I know you are cautious. And I know you understand records better than you pretend."
Lin Han looked away.
She had noticed too much.
"What are you offering?" he asked.
"Information about Luo Jian."
"You have already shown me what you possess."
"Not everything."
"Then show me the rest."
"After we agree."
He studied her.
There it was.
The bargain.
She wanted help tracing her family's records.
He wanted information about the transport intermediary.
Neither could obtain what they sought easily.
And neither trusted the other.
"Suppose I agree," Lin Han said. "What exactly would you expect?"
"If you encounter a reference to the confiscation records, tell me what it identifies."
"That could require examining documents I am forbidden to handle."
"I would not ask you to steal anything."
"You might not need to. Even reading an account without permission could be enough to punish me."
Mei Ling was silent.
Lin Han continued.
"I will not enter an office, open a record case, or copy a government document for you."
"Then what can you offer?"
"If I hear a relevant office name through my assigned work, I can tell you."
"That is very little."
"It is what I can afford."
She looked disappointed.
Lin Han understood.
He had deliberately offered less than she wanted.
But he would not risk his life for a stranger's family property.
Not even in exchange for useful information.
Mei Ling folded her arms.
"And what do you expect from me?"
"Tell me where Luo Jian's private storage payment was recorded."
"Why?"
"Because I want to know whether the goods connected to it were grain."
Her eyes narrowed.
"State grain?"
"I don't know."
"Do you suspect it?"
Lin Han considered lying.
Then he decided against it.
"Yes."
Mei Ling watched him carefully.
"Why?"
"Because a shipment may have reached a different destination from the one recorded."
"How much?"
He did not answer.
She waited.
Lin Han looked toward the gate.
"Enough to matter."
Mei Ling's expression became thoughtful.
"You know more than you've told me."
"So do you."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then she smiled faintly.
"At least we agree on something."
They settled on a limited exchange.
Mei Ling would provide the name of the commercial account in which Luo Jian's storage payment appeared, along with the approximate date and the general location named in the entry.
Lin Han would tell her which administrative offices might hold references to household confiscations and transfers, based only on information he already knew.
He would not seek unauthorized access.
He would not promise to recover documents.
And he would not provide names from records he had not lawfully encountered.
Mei Ling accepted the conditions reluctantly.
"You're a difficult man to bargain with."
"I have very little to offer."
"That is not the same thing."
Lin Han considered her words.
She was right.
His knowledge was limited.
But his caution made him unwilling to surrender even the little he possessed.
Mei Ling took out a narrow slip.
"The storage payment appears in a commercial account maintained through a merchant agent at the southern market. Luo Jian's name is associated with the arrangement."
"Which location?"
She named a roadside holding place south of the usual route toward East Ridge.
Lin Han repeated the name silently.
He had heard of it.
A place where carts could be sheltered and loads transferred between carriers.
Not an official receiving station.
"Do you know what was stored?" he asked.
"No."
"Who paid?"
"The account names a commercial agent. I cannot establish who supplied the money."
"Then Luo Jian may have arranged the transport without owning the goods."
"Yes."
"Or the entry may concern an entirely different shipment."
"Yes."
Lin Han looked at her.
"You are remarkably willing to admit what you don't know."
"I prefer an incomplete truth to a complete invention."
He found himself remembering Chen Yu.
The replacement summary.
The inspector's questions.
A complete record could be more dangerous than an incomplete one if the completeness had been manufactured.
He nodded.
"In that case, I can tell you where I would begin looking for your family's records."
Mei Ling leaned closer.
He explained that confiscated property might leave references in county registers, transfer accounts, or the records of the offices that received particular goods.
A military supply compound might preserve only a narrow portion of such a trail.
He warned her that an office named in one account did not necessarily possess the original record.
Mei Ling listened without interrupting.
When he finished, she said, "That gives me somewhere to begin."
"It gives you several places where you might waste your time."
"Sometimes those are the same thing."
Lin Han almost smiled.
They were preparing to separate when Mei Ling asked one final question.
"Why were you sentenced?"
Lin Han's expression hardened.
"That was not part of our agreement."
"I know."
"Then why ask?"
"Because you understand the danger of irregular orders better than most laborers."
He looked toward the darkening courtyard.
"I moved grain under instructions that were later judged improper."
"Did you know?"
"I suspected."
"And you obeyed?"
"Yes."
Mei Ling was silent.
Lin Han continued.
"I thought refusing would be more dangerous."
"Was it?"
"I never found out."
She studied him.
"Do you regret obeying?"
He considered the question.
For three years, he had told himself that he had been unlucky.
That he had followed an order and suffered because the wrong official had needed someone to blame.
But there had been a moment when he could have refused.
He remembered it.
He remembered choosing not to.
"I regret not understanding what I was agreeing to," he said.
Mei Ling looked at him for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
"That is an answer I believe."
She picked up her leather case.
"We leave tomorrow."
"So I heard."
"If I learn more about Luo Jian, I may return."
"That would be your decision."
"And if you discover anything useful?"
Lin Han hesitated.
"I will decide whether it is worth telling you."
She smiled.
"Another careful answer."
"Another necessary one."
Mei Ling stepped toward the cart.
Then she stopped.
"Lin Han."
"Yes?"
"Not everyone who asks for help intends to use you."
He looked at her.
"No."
He paused.
"But some do."
She did not argue.
That night, Lin Han returned to the workers' quarters with a name and a location.
Luo Jian.
A roadside holding place.
A private storage payment entered near the period of the disputed dispatch.
The information did not prove that three hundred shi of state grain had been diverted.
It did not prove that Luo Jian had acted unlawfully.
It did not even prove that the commercial account concerned the same shipment.
But it suggested a route that the official replacement summary did not acknowledge.
That was something.
He lay awake, reconstructing the possibilities.
Nine hundred shi had left Heiyang.
A tally he remembered identified six hundred bound for East Ridge.
A separate quantity of three hundred might have traveled under another arrangement.
If the official summary described all nine hundred as delivered to East Ridge, then someone had either combined legitimate consignments incorrectly or concealed a change of destination.
The holding place Mei Ling had named could be relevant.
Or it could be a coincidence.
Lin Han forced himself to stop.
He was beginning to build conclusions faster than he could obtain evidence.
That was dangerous.
A man who wanted a particular answer badly enough could mistake every new detail for confirmation.
He had seen officials do it.
He had seen laborers punished because of it.
He would not make the same mistake.
The following morning, the merchant household departed.
Lin Han watched from the storage yard as the carts passed through the eastern gate.
Lu Wen rode beside the leading cart.
Mei Ling walked near the second, speaking to one of the drivers.
She did not look toward Lin Han.
He was grateful.
A public farewell would have invited questions.
The carts disappeared along the road.
He returned to work.
By midday, the compound had resumed its ordinary rhythm.
Grain was measured.
Carts were loaded.
Clerks carried records between offices.
Laborers obeyed instructions.
Nothing appeared to have changed.
Yet Lin Han had acquired something he had not possessed before.
A possible connection between the disputed shipment and a commercial transport network.
More importantly, he had discovered that someone outside the Qin administrative offices was asking questions about the same movement of goods.
He did not know whether Mei Ling was an ally.
He did not know whether her family history was as she had described it.
And he did not know whether Luo Jian's name would lead him toward the truth or toward another trap.
But the bargain had been made.
For the first time, he had exchanged information not because an official demanded it, but because he had chosen to.
The distinction was small.
To a free man, it might have meant nothing.
To Lin Han, it felt like the beginning of something.
Near sunset, a junior attendant approached him in the western yard.
"Lin Han?"
"Yes."
"The administrative office requires you tomorrow morning."
Lin Han felt his stomach tighten.
"For what purpose?"
The attendant shrugged.
"I was told to deliver the instruction."
"Who gave it?"
"Clerk Qiao."
Lin Han went still.
Qiao Ren.
The senior clerk who had supervised the replacement summary.
The man who had questioned Chen Yu.
The man whose name Lin Han had avoided giving Inspector Xu.
"Did he say why?" Lin Han asked.
"No."
The attendant turned to leave.
Then he stopped.
"Oh. There was something else."
Lin Han looked at him.
"What?"
"He asked whether you had spoken with the merchant woman."
The yard seemed suddenly quieter.
Lin Han kept his expression neutral.
"What did you tell him?"
"That I didn't know."
The attendant shrugged again.
"Should I have said something else?"
"No."
Lin Han lowered his head.
"Thank you."
The attendant departed.
Lin Han remained beside the storage wall.
For several moments, he did not move.
He had believed the conversation with Mei Ling had passed unnoticed.
He had been wrong.
Someone in the administrative office knew they had spoken.
Someone had considered it important enough to ask.
And that someone was Qiao Ren.
Lin Han looked toward the eastern gate.
The merchant carts were long gone.
He could not warn Mei Ling.
He could not withdraw their agreement.
He could not undo the questions he had answered.
He could only prepare for the next morning.
The first bargain of his life had been made freely.
Its price had not yet been revealed.