Shadowwwing
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70. The Price of Information
🕑 Added 2025-07-10 22:00:04 +0000 UTCThe Broker clapped sharply, breaking the tension that had settled over Jiang at the thought of his new goals.
“I’m glad to see that we have managed to clarify matters – it makes this next stage so much simpler.”
He leaned back in his chair, the featureless bone mask giving nothing away. “Let us be clear on what you require, so there are no misunderstandings. You are seeking two distinct sets of information.”
He held up a single, gloved finger. “First, you require a comprehensive dossier on every bandit crew operating within a… let us say a three-week travel radius of Qinghe that possesses the manpower and organisation to carry out a raid on the scale of the one at Liǔxī. This would include their known leaders, typical areas of operation, and any identifying marks or methods. A broad, but achievable, request.”
Another finger joined the first. “Second, and far more difficult, you wish to identify the slavers who operate out of this city, with the specific goal of tracing a large group of captives sold into the system several months ago.” The Broker paused, letting the weight of the task settle in the quiet room. “This is a more… delicate matter. The men who deal in human flesh in Qinghe are not simple thugs. They are meticulous, paranoid, and protected by layers of coin and fear. Identifying them is one thing. Unravelling their specific transactions after months have passed is another entirely.”
Jiang’s jaw tightened. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but hearing it laid out so clinically made the task feel impossibly large. “You’re saying you can’t do it.”
“I am saying it will be difficult,” the Broker corrected smoothly. “I can certainly provide you with the identities and primary locations of the key players in the city’s slave trade. That, I can guarantee. However, tracking a specific sale from months ago… that would require a deeper, more dangerous investigation. It would be a significant undertaking, an expensive undertaking, and success would be far from certain. In this particular case, I would recommend that you… persuade one of the slavers to share their records yourself.”
The unspoken threat in the word ‘persuade’ hung in the air. Jiang didn’t flinch. He would do what was necessary.
“So, we have two distinct packages of information,” the Broker continued, his tone all business now. “One, a detailed accounting of the region’s major bandit crews. Two, the identities of Qinghe’s foremost slavers. Each is a significant investment of my resources, time, and the safety of my agents.”
He leaned forward slightly. “Therefore, the price for each package will be one gold piece.”
Jiang stared. One gold. One hundred silver coins. The twenty silver he’d earned for retrieving the comb, a sum that had felt like a fortune, was now revealed to be little more than a pittance. He could see now that the Broker’s initial payment hadn’t just been a gesture of goodwill; it had been a hook, designed to show him the kind of wealth that was possible while ensuring the real prize remained just out of reach. It was a clever, frustratingly effective trap.
“That’s… a lot,” Jiang said, his voice flat. It was the only response he could manage.
“Quality has a price,” the Broker replied, his voice still perfectly even. “My information is not tavern gossip. It is verified, accurate, and actionable. For the first package, I will identify every crew that meets your criteria. For the second, I will give you the keys to the city’s darkest doors. You will find no better value in all of Qinghe – and I assure you, this is not information that is easy to acquire. You will find no one else with the ability to find it.”
He was right, and Jiang knew it. This was the path. There was no other. He had to pay the toll. “I’ll need to work,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
The Broker’s masked face tilted in what might have been a smile. “Indeed. But as we’ve established, you have a valuable and marketable talent. Qinghe is full of problems that require a… particular solution – and as a cultivator, particularly one with no ties to existing organisations or factions, you are eligible for some of the more… politically sensitive tasks.”
The Broker paused, tilting his head as he considered Jiang. He opened a thin, lacquered drawer in his desk, the movement silent and precise.
“I have two assignments at present that might suit your particular skills,” he said, his voice dropping into a more clinical, transactional tone. “Both require a more… delicate touch. Both are time-sensitive.”
He slid a single sheet of fine paper across the desk. It was blank to Jiang’s eye. “The first involves a merchant guild—a rival of one of my clients. This rival is expecting a significant shipment of rare spices from the southern islands, due to arrive by sea within the next three days. My client would be… most pleased if that shipment were to suffer an unfortunate accident before it could be unloaded at the docks.” He tapped the blank paper. “The name of the ship and its expected arrival window are noted here. For a successful disruption, the payment is eighty silver.”
Eighty silver. The sum was immense, enough to live on for years in a village like Liǔxī. It was also, Jiang noted with a familiar sense of being managed, tantalisingly short of the gold piece he needed.
“The second task,” the Broker continued, sliding a second, identical sheet of paper next to the first, “is more direct. The leader of a gang known as the Iron Dogs has become a significant obstacle to another of my associates. His name is Huo Jin. He is a formidable brute, but a mortal one. His removal would need to be permanent and, more importantly, quiet.” The Broker’s masked gaze met Jiang’s. “The fee for this is one gold and fifty silver. Note that the payment reflects the difficulty – the man knows people want him dead, and is prepared for attempts on his life.”
The number hit Jiang with physical force. One hundred and fifty silver. More than enough to pay for one of the information packages outright, with plenty left over. It was a fast track, a straight line to the answers he so desperately needed. He thought of Kaelen, of the satisfying finality of the arrow that had ended the man’s miserable life. He had killed before. He knew he could do it again.
But this was different. Kaelen had been a direct threat, a predator he’d hunted down in the heat of righteous anger. This… this was work. A task assigned for coin. He would be an assassin, a hired killer. Arguably better than a bandit, if only because his target seemed to deserve death, but… that was a very tenuous argument. He was willing to do what was necessary to find his family, but was he willing to become this person to do it?
Yes. Yes, he was.
But not yet. Not if there was another way.
“I’ll take the shipment,” Jiang said, his voice coming out flatter than he intended. Even as he made the choice, he wondered if it was the right one. He would earn the money either way, and logically speaking, the extra few days it would take wouldn’t make a difference to his family, but… he couldn’t shake the feeling this was a mistake.
The Broker’s posture didn’t change, but Jiang sensed a flicker of something in the air – not disappointment, but a kind of clinical curiosity, an observation noted and filed away. “A prudent choice,” he said smoothly, withdrawing the second sheet of paper and tucking it back into the drawer. “Discretion is often more valuable than bloodshed.”
He pushed the first sheet of paper across the table. “The pertinent details of your task. While it doesn’t have any information that can directly lead back to me, I would be quite displeased if a copy of the information gets out. I advise you to memorise what you need, and dispose of it.”
Jiang nodded, folding the paper and tucking it away into one of his spare pouches. He’d look at it later – and probably share some of the details with Lin, if only to get her opinion on how to tackle it. A risk, maybe, but honestly, he didn’t personally care if she got her hands on information she shouldn’t.
“Before you go,” the Broker said, his tone shifting slightly, becoming more conversational as he leaned back from the desk. “There is one other matter. A piece of information I offer freely, as a professional courtesy, and also as part of a long-standing arrangement I have.”
Jiang waited, his hand still on the pouch, a flicker of suspicion rising. Free information from the Broker felt about as likely as a warm day in winter.
“As you can imagine, Qinghe attracts all sorts of individuals,” the Broker continued. “It is a city of endings and beginnings. For some, that includes cultivators. There is a small, unaffiliated group of practitioners who make their home here. They are… particular. They value their privacy and do not appreciate the attention that the politics of the great Sects often bring.”
He tilted his head, his masked gaze analytical. “They have a standing commission with me. Should a wandering cultivator—one not bound by the rigid strictures of a Sect—arrive in the city, I am to inform them of their existence and, should the cultivator wish it, offer an introduction. A way of maintaining the delicate balance of power in this city, you understand. You, Cultivator Jiang, seem to fit that description perfectly. You don’t carry yourself like a Sect disciple.”
Jiang’s first, immediate instinct was to refuse. The thought of willingly seeking out more cultivators, with their endless rules of face and their petty, layered conflicts, made his stomach tighten.
He wasn’t stupid – leaving the Azure Sky Sect was going to have consequences, they just hadn’t caught up to him yet. The last thing he needed was to get entangled with another group, no matter how “unaffiliated” they claimed to be. It was just another distraction, another potential obstacle between him and his family.
He opened his mouth to say as much, but the words caught in his throat. He paused, his mind working rapidly, assessing the situation from a different angle. The Broker wasn’t asking for his permission. He was fulfilling a commission. Whether Jiang agreed to meet them or not, this other group would now know he was here. The Broker would make sure of it; it was part of his business. It was better to meet them on his own terms than to be approached unexpectedly in some dark alley when his guard was down.
Then another thought surfaced, more pressing than the first. The strange, unsettling changes in his own Qi. The shift from a fluid, responsive current to a hard, gritty state and back again. He had no context for it, no understanding of what it meant or what had caused it. It was a problem he couldn’t solve alone, a vulnerability he couldn’t afford.
Elder Lu’s help had come with the strings of Sect politics attached. These unaffiliated cultivators, however… they were outsiders, same as him. That didn’t necessarily mean they would be sympathetic, of course, but it did mean that they might have different knowledge – more specifically, knowledge of techniques that could work with his shadow affinity. It was a risk, but then, so was continuing on in ignorance.
Besides, it wasn’t like he had much choice.
“Fine,” Jiang said, the word coming out clipped and reluctant. “How do I find them?”
The Broker’s masked face seemed to curve into a smile. “A wise decision. As it happens, one of their senior members, a woman by the name of Elder Bai, frequents a tea house in the Scholar’s Quarter called The Quiet Scroll. She is usually there in the late afternoons.” He made a small, dismissive gesture. “I will, of course, send word that you may be stopping by. I wouldn’t want you to be… misunderstood.”
Jiang gave him a short nod, then turned and left the room. That meeting… hadn’t gone quite how he’d hoped, but it could have been worse. He would need to complete several jobs for the Broker, but at least now he knew for a fact that the man could get him the information he needed.
It was a step closer to saving his family, and right now, that was all that mattered to him.
Comments
Raymond Mouton
Thanks for the chapter.
