Mingyu braces himself, inwardly, for the price to be paid. He is startled to find it less steep than he imagined, even more startled to realize how deep and genuine his fondness for his mistress runs. A fickle and dangerous thing to have, a beating heart. It was better when his was broken.

But he smiles, he nods, he promises her it all. He will attend to the merchants, to their every need, will make her house's hospitality renowned the world over. And her niece will be safe, protected like his own blood, with his own blood. He will send word, and proof, back as often as able. These are things he is glad to do for her regardless of favor. Still, he begs the name.