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A night to decompress and unwind from all the stress he's been under lately is exactly what Nie Huaisang needs. Despite his current level of skill in strategy and subterfuge, he achieved it through years of self-teaching and grueling practice across a decade. In those days, he'd been utterly convinced that one wrong move would not only bring about his death but the destruction of his sect as well had he been caught. He's never had a high threshold for hard work and it's been stretched rather thin of late.

It been hard for him to care enough about this stupid sewer or whatever pre-existing squabble might exist between Toraguma and Tenkohime. Aside from the generous bonus for his work at the bathhouse and sticking up for the clan after the Shuten Clan leader had insulted them, his clan leader hasn't done much to inspire his loyalty. Add in the fact that he could easily achieve this objective if he had resources of his own and this whole turf war has been an exercise in frustration.

So he's ready for this date. He's donned one of the garments of his own design currently being sold by the tailor he'd assisted before the Night Parade, a midnight blue hanfu-kimono blend spangled in a crane-and-moon pattern. He's put his hair up for the occasion, affixing with a delicate bird hairpin. After touching up his eye makeup one last time, he heads toward the front door, fan in hand.

"I'm ready to go now," he says. "Sorry for the wait. I remember you said it was for one of the finer places so I wanted to make sure I'm dressed up enough for it."