Yan tapped a finger against the armrest, eyes half-shut in thought. Finally, he said, "Forty percent."
Sia's expression changed. "Five. Do not dream beyond that."
Yan's face darkened. "Child, that is no more than an insult."
"Do you think you are the only one whose hand will be in this matter?" she replied coldly. "Ten. No higher. My last word."
The old man fell silent. After a long moment, he exhaled softly, as though releasing dust that had clung for centuries. "Very well. Ten it is. But I require one more thing."
Her gaze sharpened. "Name it."
"A favor."
Sia tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "Another debt? Very well. I will owe you one."
Yan shook his head, his lips curling in a thin smile. "Not from you. From the man who receives my fate aura."
Sia's eyes flickered with starlight as she considered. At last, she gave a single, slow nod.
"Agreed."
---
