My Sect Is Down to Seven People

Chapter 102: An Answer on the Day of the Autumn Evaluation

On the third day of the second month, half a quarter past the Snake hour. The snow under the eaves had half melted, drips falling one by one onto the flagstones outside the Market Office window. People inside spoke as if through a screen of water.

Ge Song turned a page of the accusation document and read the second count.

”On the night of the twenty-sixth day of the eighth month, Year 300 of the Zongmeng Calendar, Qingya disciple Qi Qi met Chixiao Outer Court disciple Du Xiaochuan on the ridge and pulled him over the crest. This is luring away another sectʼs disciple. Regulation Five: a sect that lures away another sectʼs disciple shall not compete.”

He smoothed the document flat on the table, pressing both edges with his hands. When he finished reading, his eyes did not go to Xu Yan; they went to Qi Qi by the door.

A Sui had been standing against the west wall the whole time. Now her fingers hooked around A Heʼs sleeve. A He did not move.

Wen Su set down her brush. ”Du Xiaochuan.”

Du Xiaochuan came from the east wall and stopped two paces short of the table, hands hanging at his sides.

”Your waist tablet.” Wen Su said. ”Where did you put it?”

”Steward Geʼs room, on the table by the door.”

”What hour did you put it there?”

”After dark.”

”How did you leave Chixiao.”

”Through the back window. Down behind the rear wall to the foot of the mountain.”

”Anyone stop you on the way.”

”No.”

”Where were you when you met Qi Qi.”

”Halfway Ridge.”

”Who saw who first.”

”He saw me first. He was standing in the middle of the road.”

”Who first asked about joining.”

”Me.”

”What did you say.”

Du Xiaochuan pressed his hand against his trouser leg. ”I asked him, do you take people in on your mountain.”

The clerk wrote with his head bowed, the brush tip moving slowly. Below the window, the three stewards had not moved a muscle, their gray-green sleeves hanging at their sides.

Ge Song spoke from beside the table: ”You met at Halfway Ridge.”

”Halfway Ridge.”

”Before Halfway Ridge, were there Qingya people on the road.”

”No.”

”When did the sect know you were gone.”

”I donʼt know.” Du Xiaochuan said. ”I didnʼt know when I left.”

Ge Song turned his head back. Wen Su wrote this line down, then raised her eyes. ”When you put down your waist tablet, was there anything else on the table.”

”There was a stack of Outer Court task lists.” Du Xiaochuan said. ”I put it on top.”

”Why on top.”

”On top, so when someone went through the papers the next morning, theyʼd see it.” He paused. ”I also straightened it.”

Wen Su raised her eyes and looked at him.

”Two years at Chixiao.” Du Xiaochuan said. ”That tablet always hung crooked.”

No one in the office answered that. Ge Songʼs finger pressed against the tableʼs edge, knuckles going white.

”The waist tablet on the table, and going out the door—how much time between.” Wen Su asked.

”Put it down and went out the window. No time between.”

”Were you in a hurry that night.”

Du Xiaochuan thought for a moment. ”Yes. I was afraid of daylight.”

”Why afraid of daylight.”

”Once it was light, once they were up, I couldnʼt get away.”

Wen Su finished writing and told him to step back to the wall. Du Xiaochuan did not move immediately. His eyes rested on Ge Songʼs back for a moment before he withdrew to the east wall.

”Qi Qi.”

Qi Qi came over from the door, slower than usual.

”Who told you to go up the mountain.”

”The Sect Master.”

”What did he tell you to do.”

”Told me to keep watch. Donʼt cross the ridge.”

Wen Su stopped her brush and looked toward Xu Yan. ”Sect Master Xu.”

Xu Yan stood where he was. ”Those were my words. Keep watch. Donʼt cross the ridge.”

”He crossed the ridge.”

”He did.”

Moisture from the window paper streaked downward, breaking off where it met the sill.

”Qi Qi,” Wen Su said, ”why did you cross the ridge.”

”He couldnʼt run anymore, and the slope was steep. I went over and grabbed him, helped him up slopes he couldnʼt climb, got him over the last crest.”

”You grabbed him.”

”Grabbed his hand. When that wasnʼt enough, I supported him.”

”Anything else. Did you touch anything else of his.”

”No.” Qi Qi said. ”I didnʼt carry his things for him. He was the one who first asked about joining. Only then did I tell him to follow me and give me his hand.”

”He asked about joining. What did you answer.”

Qi Qi thought for a moment. ”I said, letʼs see if you can make it up on your own legs.”

Wen Su wrote it down stroke by stroke, then lifted the brush and paused it against the edge of the inkstone before turning to her left.

”The Ratings Register. Turn to the ninth day of the ninth month, Year 300 of the Zongmeng Calendar. The Qingya page.”

The register the clerk held was thick, the pages stiff. He flipped forward one page at a time, past seven or eight before stopping. On that page were filed ten name-verification papers, each name written in the personʼs own hand, with several lines of small script beside them in the Branchʼs hand.

”Read it. The question I asked that day.”

The clerk shifted the register closer to the lamp and read slowly: ”ʼDu Xiaochuanʼs waist tablet—was it on his desk.ʼ”

”What was the answer below.”

The clerkʼs eyes lingered a moment on that line, his throat working. ”ʼYes.ʼ”

The office went quiet. Under the eaves, a drip fell and struck the flagstones with a clear sound.

Wen Su drew her hand back from the register. ”Steward Ge. On the ninth day of the ninth month, Year 300 of the Zongmeng Calendar, I asked you that question. You answered yes.”

”I answered.”

”The waist tablet was put on the table by the man himself. The window was climbed out by him. He had left Chixiao territory and reached Halfway Ridge before he met anyone from Qingya. Qi Qi crossed the ridge and pulled him over the crest after the meeting—and well after he had left his sect.”

Ge Songʼs mouth opened a fraction.

”To lure,” Wen Su said, ”is to go and draw a man away before he has left. A man who leaves on his own, and is met on the road—that is not lure.”

”The one who chased him that night was Cao Hu.” Ge Song said. ”Our people chased him to the ridge, and Qingya people were waiting just past it.”

”Chasing him—that is Chixiaoʼs internal affair.” Wen Su said. ”The regulation speaks only of luring. I rule on that word.”

Ge Song gathered up the document, folded it twice, his finger pressing along the crease.

”Tomorrow at Dragon hour, the judgment.” Wen Su said. ”Two copies. One for Qingya, one for Chixiao.”

”Rank Evaluator.” Ge Song said.

”Tomorrow at Dragon hour.” Wen Su closed the register, gently.

Ge Song did not speak again. Cao Hu followed half a pace behind him; the two went out first. The three stewards followed, their gray-green robes passing over the threshold one by one, the last pausing on it a moment before ducking his head and stepping through.

Xu Yan walked to the west wall. A Suiʼs hands still hooked around A Heʼs sleeve. When she let go, there were four nail marks in her palm. A He looked down at his own sleeve and smoothed the cloth flat.

”Letʼs go.” Xu Yan said. ”We come back tomorrow at Dragon hour.”

Fourth day of the second month, the hour of the Dragon. The office was colder than the day before, the window open only a crack. When Xu Yan led his people in, the three stewards were already standing in a row on the veranda, and Ge Song stood in the courtyard with his back to the door. Two judgments lay spread on the table, fresh paper, ink fully dry, the Branch seal pressed square and precise in the lower right corner.

She read only after everyone was present. Wen Su read standing.

”Chixiao files the accusation, joined by Jade Spring Sect, Azure Brook Sect, and Ink Pool Gate. Count One: Qingya Registered Disciple A Sui entered the roster on the twenty-first day of the eighth month, Year 300 of the Zongmeng Calendar, and to this day cannot draw qi. This is nominal enrollment.”

She turned a page.

”Count Two: on the night of the twenty-sixth day of the eighth month, Year 300 of the Zongmeng Calendar, Qingya disciple Qi Qi met Chixiao Outer Court disciple Du Xiaochuan on the ridge. This is luring away another sectʼs disciple.”

She squared the two sheets.

”Count One dismissed. Nominal enrollment asks whether the person is present and whether they cultivate—not how fast. She is present. She cultivates. Yesterdayʼs questioning is recorded in the Ratings Register.”

”Count Two dismissed. The waist tablet was set down first, the man left after, the meeting came later. A man who leaves on his own is not lured.”

”Qingya Sectʼs entry with five participants is approved. This matter is recorded in the Branch file.”

The clerk opened the file and wrote in the date, the brush tip moving scratchily across the paper. Halfway through he stopped to ask a question; Wen Su said ”record both as dismissed,” and he went on writing. Wen Su picked up the Branch seal and pressed it once on each judgment, the seal paste bleeding into the grain of the paper.

”One copy to Qingya, one to Chixiao.”

The clerk handed the top copy to Xu Yan. He took it, holding it in both hands, letting the ink dry a little more. The other was handed to Ge Song, who looked down at it, folded it in half, and tucked it into his sleeve.

Ge Song turned and gave Xu Yan a shallow bow. It was not deep. He said nothing and walked out.

The three stewards followed him. Cao Hu did not leave with them. He stood on the veranda until he could no longer see any red robes in the courtyard, then slowly made his way toward the Market.

On the veranda, Xu Yan folded the judgment into quarters and tucked it into his chest, against his heart. Standing on the steps, he did the math: twenty-nine days until the third day of the third month. What needed training, what needed preparing, what needed guarding against in those twenty-nine days—he could count off each one.

A Sui leaned close to A Heʼs shoulder, her voice very low. ”Did the judgment say anything about me.”

Xu Yan heard her. ”It did.”

”What did it say about me.”

”It says you are learning breathing techniques.”

A Sui pressed her lips together. She held it for a moment, then failed, and smiled, quickly lowering her head to look at the toes of her shoes.

Qi Qi came out and stood beside Xu Yan, then suddenly tugged his sleeve.

”Sect Master. Ge Song got on a cart alone.”

Xu Yan followed his gaze. Outside the Branch gate, a mule cart had turned around and was heading toward the east city gate. One corner of the curtain was lifted; only one person sat inside.

”Cao Hu didnʼt go with him.” Qi Qi said. ”He turned into the Market—the Chixiao shop.”

One heading east out of the city, one heading west into a shop. Xu Yan set the two places side by side in his mind.

”Seen is seen.” he said. ”Back to the inn.”

In the afternoon, he left the city and went to the carriage yard to find the yard man, telling him: fifth day, Mao Hour, four people back to Luoxia Town—fare paid in advance, round trip, on the second. The man made a mark on a wooden board with charcoal and said it was noted.

Dog hour. In the inn room, the oil lamp sat on the low table between the two plank beds. Du Xiaochuan was already lying on the inner bed, face to the wall. Next door, the door of A He and A Suiʼs room was shut, one line of light seeping beneath it.

Xu Yan took an old handkerchief from his chest, untied it, and counted out eight Low-grade Spirit Stones, lining them up on the low table one by one.

”Four nights. Two stones a night, one room.” he said. ”Fifth day, weʼre gone. Eighth day, if nothing happens, you go.”

Qi Qi sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the eight stones. ”What do you want me to do.”

”Ge Song left town alone today, heading east. East is Chixiao.” Xu Yan said. ”Heʼs gone back to his sect. Whoeverʼs left here—who goes in, who comes out—someone has to watch.”

”Cao Huʼs in the shop.”

”Heʼs in the shop, which means he can see who goes in and who comes out.” Xu Yan pushed the last stone to Qi Qiʼs hand. ”You stay. Watch. Donʼt go in the door. Donʼt reach out your hand.”

”Donʼt go in the door, donʼt reach out your hand.” Qi Qi repeated.

”What if they do nothing.” he asked after a while.

”Then come back.” Xu Yan said. ”Iʼd rather have you come back and tell me nothing happened.”

Qi Qi put the stones into the small cloth pouch against his chest, one at a time. ”And if someone comes out of the shop carrying something, heading somewhere else—”

”Man moves, you follow.” Xu Yan said. ”Donʼt touch the goods. Donʼt go in the door.”

Qi Qi pulled the pouchʼs mouth tight and tucked it inside his shirt, sitting still. The lamp wick sputtered.

”If nothing happens by the night of the eighth, check out at Mao Hour on the ninth.” Xu Yan said. ”When youʼre back, come to me first. Donʼt go telling anyone else first.”

”The Senior Sister asks.”

”Say to ask the Sect Master.”

Qi Qi nodded, patted his pillow twice, and lay down, one hand still pressed over the bulge in his shirt where the pouch lay.