Tang Jiu Qing

escaped by the skin of his teeth.

Without lifting his eyes, he answered, “I don’t like his shoes.”

Zechuan said evenly, “Do you have money? You’ll have to pay for this, you know.”

“I’ve got plenty of money,” Xiao Chiye replied, his voice cold. He rummaged in his belt’s pockets and came up totally empty.

Shen Zechuan waited a moment before turning to the tavern-keeper. “Put it on the good sir’s tab. He’s got plenty of money.”