"Mn," is the only sound he makes for a time, eyes fixed on some point off in the maze of bamboo that cover the hillside.

After an inordinate amount of silence passes, he gestures once, pulling something out of his qiankun sleeve It's a little tin, secured with ribbon. He opens it, and extends it with it's delicate stacks of lace cookies.

"A gift from a baker," he said, offering them up for the tasting. "For assistance rendered. Orange, almond, and ginger."