My Sect Is Down to Seven People

Chapter 113: The Mule Cart Back to the Mountain

The city gate opened at Mao Hour. Soldiers pushed the barrier to either side, the gate pivots groaning out one long note, and the six of them walked out of the city into that sound.

Shi Po carried two bedrolls stacked on his back and a bundle hanging at his chest, and every few steps he hitched it up. Bai Xiaoman followed behind, hugging her own pack, her handkerchief still tied at her lapel. Qi Qi walked at the front with both hands empty, the soles of his feet slapping the wet dirt of the road.

Down the slope, the carriage yardʼs wooden posts stood in a row, wet rope hanging from them. The cart theyʼd ridden on February 18 was already hitched, the mule grazing on fodder with its head down. The carter squatted by the wheel gnawing on dry flatbread; when he saw them coming, he pulled the wooden tag off its post and glanced at it.

”Qingya. Six of you.”

”Six.” The carter hung the tag back. ”Three in front, three in back. Luggage all goes at the tail.”

Qi Qi climbed up first and sat at the tail. Huo Qing followed and leaned against the other side, sword laid across his knees, tip angled out of the cart. The boards creaked when Shi Po climbed on; he sat down and tucked his bundle by his feet. Up front, Jiang Wan took the outside, Bai Xiaoman squeezed into the middle, and Xu Yan sat by the shaft.

The whip cracked, and the wheels bit into the dirt road.

The official road wore two pale ruts, and the wheels settled into them, jolting less. The fields on either side were just greening, a wash of gray-green, and along the field ridges people bent over clearing cut straw stalks. Bai Xiaoman spread the handkerchief in her lap and ran her fingers over the stones inside, two at a time, then folded it and tied it back.

”Qi Qi.”

”Mm.”

”That round of yours—how much were you short, really?”

Qi Qi turned his head and held up two fingers, then pulled them back. ”Half a chi.”

”Which half?”

”The half chi between my foot and the line. When his whip tip chased me along the ground, my back foot came down half a chi too far.” He leaned back against the cart boards. ”I counted his steps. Went around Ring Three twice, counting.”

Up front, Jiang Wanʼs eyes had been on the roadside the whole time. She spoke suddenly. ”You counted his steps. He counted your feet.”

Qi Qi went still, and couldnʼt find an answer.

After a while he asked, ”Senior Brother Huo, that thrust of yours—if he hadnʼt lunged at you, would you have used it?”

”Then I wouldnʼt have.” Huo Qing said.

”And if he had lunged, and youʼd missed?”

”There is no that time.”

Qi Qi stopped asking.

”Before the third of March, what does the mountain need to prepare?” Jiang Wan said, her eyes still on the roadside.

Xu Yan thought for a moment. ”Bai Xiaomanʼs formation materials. And shoes.”

”Shoes?”

”Shoes for all five. The ring is spread with lime. Stepping on it all day wears the soles faster than ten li of mountain road.” He paused. ”Shi Poʼs heels are already thin.”

Jiang Wan shifted the sword on her knees and said nothing more.

The cart rolled on. The muleʼs hooves beat an even rhythm on the hard earth. Qi Qiʼs eyelids grew heavy, and he fell asleep leaning against Shi Poʼs shoulder.

Past the stone bridge, the carter pulled up to let the mule drink below. The six of them finished off the leftover coarse-grain flatbread with water from their flasks. By the twenty-fourth the bread was even harder. Bai Xiaoman broke hers into small pieces and soaked them in water; Shi Po took three bites per piece and swept the crumbs from his palm into his mouth when he was done.

They reached Luoxia Town at Shen Hour. The street outside the carriage house was being swept, and the dust rose into their squinting eyes. The carter unloaded their luggage from the tail, handing it over piece by piece.

”That match on the third—whoʼs drawn against whom?”

”Not drawn yet.” Xu Yan said.

”Once it is, Iʼll hear about it here.” He tugged the reins, and the mule turned its head.

Ten li of mountain road took one shichen. Shi Po reached for Bai Xiaomanʼs bundle; she wouldnʼt give it up, so he simply took it and carried it without a word.

They came up to the Mountain Gate at You Hour.

Nie Bo was sweeping below the steps, the broom rasping slowly against the stone, once, then again. He glanced up at the six of them, then lowered his head and kept sweeping.

At the top of the steps, A He came running out first, A Sui right behind. Both ran hard—A Sui nearly tripped on the step edge.

”Youʼre back!” A He shouted. ”Did you get in?”

”We got in.” Qi Qi reached into his shirt and produced a stone, flat, with a little white dust on its edge. ”From Linchuan City. Dug it out from the base of the city wall.”

A Sui took it in both hands and held it to her chest, looking at it for a long time before lifting her head. ”Itʼs so small.”

”The cityʼs big. Being a city, it doesnʼt make the stones any bigger.” Qi Qi said.

A He reached out to snatch it. A Sui put her hands behind her back and backed up two steps, then tucked the stone into the cloth pouch at her bosom, pulled the opening shut, and patted it.

Qian Duoduo stood at the kitchen door, his apron wet, wiping his hands against it. ”Come in, come in—foodʼs just about ready.”

Cheng Banshan stood at the Medicine Hall door, one hand holding his wine gourd, the stopper still in. He didnʼt ask about wins or losses. His eyes traveled up from the five of themʼs feet, one by one, and stopped at Qi Qiʼs.

”What happened to your shoes.”

Qi Qi looked down at his own shoe upper. There was a white streak across it, the leather scuffed to fuzz. ”Soft whip. Tied around it once, pulled me off.”

”Did you twist your ankle?”

”No. I landed on the ball of my foot first.”

”Put your hands out.”

Qi Qi extended both hands. Cheng Banshan pressed two fingers to his wrist, glanced at his neck, and withdrew. ”Meridians are clear. Go change your shoes.”

Bai Xiaoman offered her hand on her own. Cheng Banshan pressed it briefly. ”Recovered?”

”Recovered.”

Shi Poʼs front was still torn at one corner, and Cheng Banshan looked at it. ”Sew it with thread. Donʼt go around tying it with cord.”

”Bai Xiaoman says sheʼll sew it for me when we get back.” Shi Po said.

Cheng Banshan grunted, then moved to Huo Qing. He looked at the right hand hanging at Huo Qingʼs side and said nothing, then hung the wine gourd back on his belt.

Dinner was laid in the Main Hall at Xu Hour.

Two tables pushed together. A basin of spirit rice came out, along with a basin of soup—pickled greens and a few slices of cured pork left over from the New Year. A He knocked his chopsticks against the rim of his bowl until A Sui smacked his hand flat.

Qian Duoduo served everyone rice. When he got to Shi Poʼs bowl, the ladle scraped the bottom of the basin twice, pressing down the last of it.

”Tell it while we eat.” Xu Yan said. ”From the beginning.”

Bai Xiaoman set her chopsticks down and first reported on Ink Pool Gate. ”Three to zero. First round, Shi Po. He held the line for a full incense stick, and when it burned out, they ruled for him. Second round, me. Five stones. Pinned him in, and he conceded on his own. Third round, Qi Qi. He led the man out.”

”Ruled for him at the incense?” Shao Ming asked. ”He didnʼt fall?”

”Didnʼt fall. Just didnʼt step out of the ring.” Shi Po said. ”He tried to drag me out. I didnʼt move.”

”And the second round,” Du Xiaochuan asked, ”the stones just sat there?”

Bai Xiaoman gestured over the table, a ring at four corners, then a tap in the middle. ”Four pressed into the dirt, the fifth thrown into the center. Wherever he moved, he came back to the center.”

”Were your hands shaking?” Qian Duoduo asked.

”They were.” Bai Xiaoman said. ”By the time I pressed the fourth one in, my hands were shaking.”

”Keep going.”

”Willow Bank Gate, three to one.” Bai Xiaoman said. ”First round, Qi Qi lost.”

Qi Qi took over himself. ”That soft whip comes back faster than it goes out. The half chi I stepped in—his return flick caught my foot exactly then.”

”Half a chi.” Jiang Wan said.

Qi Qi let it go.

Bai Xiaoman continued the report: second round, Jiang Wan against Willow Bank Gateʼs foremost. Her sword never left the sheath. Three taps of the scabbardʼs tip knocked his sword away, and then she rode down the length of the blade and pushed him past the line. Third round, Shi Po. Fourth round, Huo Qing—one thrust, stopping a cun from his throat. No fifth round.

A He listened with his chopsticks frozen in midair, then suddenly jabbed his arm forward in imitation. A Sui caught his hand. ”Eat.”

”Just one.”

”Not even one—youʼll spill the food.”

”And Chixiao?” Shao Ming asked. ”Their two rounds, what scores?”

”Three to zero.” Qi Qi said. ”Both rounds. Zhou Kui takes them out with one staff. I watched that swing—the man sat down and didnʼt get back up.”

”Which side does he strike from.” Huo Qing asked.

Qi Qi paused, picturing it. ”The right. The staff comes down off his right shoulder, lands on the other manʼs left arm first, and he just pins it there without lifting.”

Huo Qing stared at the bowl in front of him, then said, ”He raises it when he pulls the staff back.”

”Wait—”

”On the ninth of the ninth month, the year the two-hundred-ninetieth of the Alliance, he lifted a half cun before drawing back, his waist rising with it.” Huo Qing said.

The table went quiet. Qi Qi let out an ”oh,” repeated the words over twice in his head, then went back to his food.

”Top four.” Bai Xiaoman said. ”Us, Chixiao, Cloud Terrace Sect, Azure Brook Sect. Finals draw lots at dawn on the third of March.”

”Howʼs the draw done?” Cheng Banshan asked.

”Four bamboo tallies, one name carved on each, all placed in a tube. The ring judge shakes it in front of the four sects.”

”Which ring judge.”

”The one at Ring Two drew the master lot.” Bai Xiaoman said. ”When he took our lineup sheet, he called out ʼSect Master Xu.ʼ”

Qi Qi swallowed his rice and set down his bowl, then picked up his water bowl and drank.

Jiang Wanʼs chopsticks rested a moment against the rim of her bowl, then picked up again.

Xu Yan said, ”The lineup sheet is written on the spot after the draw. Canʼt be changed.”

He said no more. A He reached for the soup basin again, and Qian Duoduo quickly moved it closer.

”Injuries.” Cheng Banshan said. ”The five who competed, one by one.”

”No one was hurt.” Xu Yan said. ”Shi Poʼs shirt tore. Qi Qi has a mark on his shoe. Bai Xiaoman emptied her spiritual power, but by the twenty-second sheʼd recovered seven-tenths of it. During Huo Qingʼs round, he stepped back to the edge of the ring and his heel broke off a ridge of dirt, but he didnʼt go down.”

Cheng Banshan turned his wine gourd a half circle in his hand, stopper still in. ”Then all of you go sleep.”

Qian Duoduo carried the basin over and added another ladle to Shi Poʼs bowl; the ladle hit the bowl with a soft clack. ”He held that line for a full stick of incense.”

”I didnʼt hold it.” Shi Po said. ”He couldnʼt lift me.”

”Same thing.” Qian Duoduo said.

The meal broke up. Bai Xiaoman left carrying Shi Poʼs torn shirt, saying two stitches under a lamp would fix it. Shi Po followed two steps behind, walking slowly.

Late Xu Hour, the Accounts Room.

Xu Yan gathered the spirit stones from three places into one: one thousand eight hundred seventy-eight in the cash box; one cloth pouch Qian Duoduo had sent from the kitchen, sixty-five stones, what was left after buying more spirit rice from the grain shop following the fair on February 20; and sixteen on his own person—the twenty heʼd taken to Linchuan on February 18, minus four for the round trip cart fare. Heʼd spent nothing else.

He counted twice, then wrote in the ledger: returned to the mountain on the twenty-fourth of the second month, balance on hand one thousand nine hundred fifty-nine stones. He left a blank line beneath for the fair on the twenty-fifth. The ten taels of silver went into a separate book, managed by Bai Xiaoman—not one tael had been touched on this trip.

He fitted the lid onto the copper coin box and set the brush by his hand.

Footsteps at the door, and they stopped there.

Jiang Wan stood outside the threshold, not coming in. The sword was in her right hand, the scabbardʼs base resting against the stone by the doorframe.

”Itʼs done.” she said.

”Itʼs done.”

”Chixiao won both rounds three to zero.”

”I know.” Xu Yan said. ”I watched that staff strike of Zhou Kuiʼs. The Jade Spring Sect man put his arm out sideways to block, and the staff head came down on the hollow of his shoulder. He just sat down.”

Jiang Wan didnʼt respond to that. She raised the sword slightly, the scabbardʼs base lifting from the stone.

”If their people shake the lots, the draw will land on Chixiao.”

Xu Yan straightened the brush. ”Then it lands on Chixiao.”