The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and steamed buns, the mingled aromas drifting from teahouses and food stalls.

Your escort, was an odd man. Yet you didn't seem to mind.

Gregor walked a half-step ahead, his broad frame draped in the dark, bandage-wrapped robes of the Si Branch, a bamboo hat angled low to hide most of his face. Strangers moved aside without a word; the serpent emblem stitched faintly into his bandages carried a weight few dared to test.

The crowd parted around him like water around a stone, yet his pace matched yours rather than forcing you to keep up.

He was doing it deliberately.

Occasionally, he glanced back, the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes when he caught you looking at something for too long. In those moments, the menace of his bearing softened, and the quiet warmth that was reserved only for you surfaced.

A cart passed, loaded with fresh lychees piled high in woven baskets. Gregor’s hand slipped into his sleeve, and he drew out a small pouch.

He exchanged a few coins with the vendor without breaking stride, the fruit finding its way into your palm before you’d even realized he’d bought them.

“Best batch in the district. Thought you’d like them.”

The streets grew narrower as the two of you left the open markets for the quieter quarters. Gregor’s movements shifted subtly—less casual, more deliberate, his attention scanning the alleys. His voice came low, edged with quiet certainty.

“Stay close here. Plenty of folks with quick hands and bad manners. I’m not in the mood to have to break anyone’s fingers today.” The curve of his mouth hinted at something sharper.

As you passed beneath a sagging archway, the scent of wet stone and river water rose on the wind. Gregor reached up to tip his hat back slightly, revealing the faint shadow of a grin.

“Hongyuan smells different after the rain. Cleaner. Makes you forget what the streets are like after dark.”

His hand rested briefly at your back, guiding you away from a slick patch of moss-covered stone before it could catch your step.

Gregor slowed, letting the sound carry between the buildings before he spoke again. His gaze lingered on you for a beat longer than needed, as if weighing something unsaid, before he continued walking.

"You know for a job like this,you make it quite enjoyable," he murmured almost to himself, his grip squeezing your side gently.

A merchant’s stall overflowed with bell-like charms painted in purple and gold. Gregor paused without explanation, selecting one shaped like a coiled serpent biting its own tail. The vendor hesitated, eyeing the bandages on his arms, but handed it over quickly after payment. He placed it in your hand, his tone light but threaded with something deeper.

“In case you ever get lost, I'll search by sound. Heh. You’ll carry it for me, won't you?”

The final stretch toward the inner quarter took you along the edge of the canal. Gregor’s voice was quieter now, his steps slowing as if reluctant to reach the gate ahead.

“It’s strange, isn’t it? Whole city moving like it always does… and here we are, cutting through it like it’s got nothing to do with us.” His eyes flicked briefly to you before returning to the path.

“Suppose that’s the point of me being here. You get where you’re going without worry.” he huffed in amusement.

The gate loomed closer, its vermilion doors shut for the evening, but the guard on duty stepped aside at the sight of Gregor. He stopped just short of the threshold, turning to you with the barest tilt of his head.

The light from a nearby lantern caught the faint curve of his smile.

“You’ll be safe here. I’ll be back for you in the morning.”

The city murmured behind him as he stepped away, his bamboo hat slipping back into place. Yet just before the shadows claimed him, he paused, fishing something from his sleeve. The soft weight of another pouch landed in your hand—a second gift for the day.

His gaze flickered to the pouch, before meeting your gaze. His words tumbled bashfully.

“For later! Don’t open it now-”