My Sect Is Down to Seven People

Chapter 160: A Faint Circular Impression

He counted to around the fortieth pass, lost the number, and stopped counting.

The outer room was so still he could hear the cold air rising from beneath the flagstones. The draft coming down from the collapse opening had shifted after midnight. Earlier it had skimmed along the floor, scattering when it reached the tile ring; now it curled in from the east, around the threshold, and settled on his left arm. He tucked that arm in slightly but didnʼt move from where he sat.

Inside the tile ring, Bai Xiaomanʼs breathing came one breath after another, all of even length, as if measured with a ruler.

At the start of the Yin hour, the cloth over her back stirred. The wind wasnʼt strong enough to move cloth. After a while, her fingers slowly curled, gripping a fold of her skirt at the knee and creasing it deep. A while after that, her back sank a fingerʼs width. He leaned forward from the threshold, one hand braced against the doorframe, neither rising nor making a sound. A moment later, her back straightened on its own, straighter than before.

The collapsed half of the roof frame in the east grayed first; only then did the ground follow. The first thing he made out was the carved line the beam had snapped, the break clogged with dust; then the rims of the five shallow grooves, a thin layer of dust at the bottom of each, untouched by anyoneʼs hand. Five carved lines ran from the groove rims toward the center, disappearing at the edge of the flagstone where she sat.

By late Yin hour, her body loosened.

Her shoulders dropped. Her head dipped, then lifted. She opened her eyes, first looking down at the earthen groove by her knees—empty—then toward the threshold.

At Xu Yanʼs chest, against his heart, came a pulse of warmth.

He used the dawn light to open the sect ledger. Two lines:

[Credit: Bai Xiaoman, Qi Condensation Second Layer.]

[Balance: Sect Master, Mid Foundation Establishment.]

Qi rose from the base of his dantian, spreading upward layer by layer—not surging, not urgent. When it reached the middle of his spine, where it had been sluggish ever since his breakthrough day in the second month—always pausing there, searching for a way through—this time it didnʼt pause. It passed. Up to his shoulders, down to his legs, and into the hand holding the book; his fingers tingled faintly.

He stayed seated on the threshold, one hand pressing the ledger, the other resting on his knee. Once the qi had worked through all four limbs, he spread his palm and closed it again. The bit of qi in his palm could be held now—no longer did it take two tries to press it down.

”Sect Master.” Her voice was hoarse.

”Stay seated,” he said.

She raised both hands to her eyes, examined them, then lowered them slowly, staying where she was. The daylight crept brighter. She hung her head, watching one of the five lines in front of her knees.

”Is it dawn?”

”The grayʼs coming up,” Xu Yan said.

”I thought I wouldnʼt get through at the Zi hour,” she said. ”After midnight my legs went numb to the point of losing all feeling, and a flatbread surfaced in my head. Soft.”

”Did you think of other things?”

”I did.”

”Did it scatter?”

”It didnʼt scatter,” she said. ”I was thinking and thinking, and then I closed my eyes, and the fire dropped into the groove on its own.”

”Elder Cheng says no speculation.”

”I wonʼt tell him.”

”Neither will I,” Xu Yan said.

She laughed briefly, very short; she hadnʼt recovered yet.

When the storehouse door creaked open, the sun had not yet reached the courtyard.

Shi Po came out first, walked to three paces from the tile ring, and stopped. He didnʼt come closer, didnʼt speak. He looked first at her, then at Xu Yan on the threshold, stood a while, then crouched and picked up the empty water flask by her knee. He upended it and got only a few drops. He stood and walked back to the storehouse entrance, brought out a full one, and pressed it into her hands.

”Drink.”

”Itʼs cold.”

”Cold is still water.” He stepped back three paces and stood there.

Qian Duoduo followed behind, a water flask in each hand and a bundle of flatbread cradled against his chest, still talking: ”I brought out two flasks, oneʼs full—” He caught sight of the person sitting in the middle of the tile ring and changed course. ”Bai Xiaoman, did you sit it through?”

”Second layer,” she said.

Qian Duoduo froze. He reached the flask in his hand forward, then halfway didnʼt know where to put it, and finally set it on the flagstone by her knee.

One by one the others came out of the storehouse. Shao Ming stretched, walked to the threshold and looked at her, then at Xu Yan, and shut his mouth. A moment later he couldnʼt keep it shut: ”My first time sitting the night watch, I sat three nights. When dawn came I looked at my hands, and they were still the same hands. Nothing at all.”

”Uncle Shao,” Bai Xiaoman called.

”Mhm.”

”You made it later.”

”I made it later,” Shao Ming said. ”You made it too. Made it a lot earlier than that.”

Du Xiaochuan stood behind Qian Duoduo holding two water flasks, wanting to ask something, but after glancing around at everyone, he didnʼt ask. Huo Qing came out with his sword already buckled on, leaning against the doorframe without a word. Qi Qi circled around outside the tile ring and crouched, both hands on his knees, looking up at her. After a while he said, ”I heard it from the doorway.”

”Heard what?”

”You said ʼsecond layer,ʼ” Qi Qi said. ”I heard it from the doorway, and Qian Duoduo even asked twice.”

Jiang Wan was the last out of the storehouse. She pulled the door shut, walked over, and hauled Bai Xiaoman to her feet.

”Legs numb?”

”Numb.”

”Take two steps.”

Bai Xiaoman took two steps, stopped, and walked back. The creases in her skirt ran from her knees all the way down to the tops of her feet.

Cheng Banshan came out last, still carrying the oilcloth bundle. He walked over, set the bundle on the flagstone outside the tile ring, and crouched. ”Your hand.”

Bai Xiaoman extended her hand. Three fingers rested on the inside of her wrist and stayed there a while before lifting away.

”Second layer.” He added, ”Handʼs still shaking.”

”Itʼs not shaking.” Bai Xiaoman tucked her hand behind her back.

Cheng Banshan rose. His eyes moved from her face to the threshold and lingered on Xu Yan for a long while. Xu Yan neither avoided the look nor spoke. Cheng Banshan scratched the back of his neck. ”One breaks through a layer in a single night, the other sits out the frost all night without a word. Fine. At my age, Iʼm stuck counting days for you lot.”

He picked up the oilcloth bundle and headed back toward the storehouse entrance. A few steps out, he turned back and said to Qian Duoduo, ”Duoduo, let her drink water first. Donʼt go stuffing flatbread at her.”

”The soaked oneʼs still there,” Qian Duoduo said. ”Last nightʼs piece.”

Bai Xiaoman glanced back at the flagstone in the tile ring, went over and picked up the bowl, and stood outside the threshold eating the flatbread that had soaked all night. It had swollen soft and made no sound when bitten.

”All five arrived together,” she said between bites.

”Tell it properly.”

”Fire came first. The moment it arrived, my chest surged.” She gestured, one hand lifting. ”The last two days I pressed it down. The moment I pressed, it pushed back, hard enough to choke me.”

”This time you didnʼt press?”

”Didnʼt press. Let it drop on its own,” she said. ”It fell into the southern groove, and only then did water follow, then east and west, and last of all the breath in the middle settled in beneath them. Once all five were there, I didnʼt count.”

”Why not?”

”Last time I counted to seven and my grip slackened. The moment it slackened, it scattered.” She raised her eyes to him. ”This time I didnʼt count. It came—I didnʼt move. It stopped—I didnʼt move. After it stopped long enough, it was through.”

Xu Yan gave a single nod. ”Noted.”

Bai Xiaoman glanced at him as if she wanted to ask where it had been noted, but in the end she didnʼt ask. She finished the flatbread and rinsed the bowl at the base of the western rock face.

Qian Duoduo crouched at the storehouse entrance and untied the flatbread bundle, turning the pieces over one by one—soft ones on one side, hard ones on the other. Du Xiaochuan squatted opposite, helping count. The two of them came up with different numbers toward the end and started over from the beginning.

”Stop counting,” Xu Yan said. ”Tomorrow weʼll divide them into portions per person. The dividing can happen on the road.”

”Bai Xiaoman,” Qian Duoduo said, halfway through the sorting, ”last night you said the soft piece was mine to eat.”

”Did you eat it?”

”Not yet,” he said. ”Saving it for the road tomorrow.”

Sunlight cut through the collapsed section of the courtyard wall and fell on the flagstones outside the threshold. It also fell on the edge of the stone where sheʼd sat all night, showing up a ring-shaped impression on the surface. The print wasnʼt deep—just the shape of a body that had sat down and then braced itself upright.

Shi Po walked to the flat stone, picked up a charred piece of wood from nearby, and added another mark above the charcoal lines. When heʼd finished, he crouched and ran his fingers over the top two marks.

”We leave tomorrow,” Xu Yan said.

Everyone stopped what they were doing.

”Seventeen days until the gate seals,” he said. ”We move out tomorrow at the start of the Si hour and descend to the second level. How far down it goes—weʼll know when we get there.”

”Someone on the second level was knocking on stone,” Qi Qi said. ”Should I go down first today and scout a stretch?”

”No scouting. All ten of us go down together. Nobody goes alone.”

”I stood at the stair mouth and looked,” Qi Qi said. ”The first stretch of steps going down is dry. Past that I couldnʼt make anything out. The Eight Sectsʼ people went down, left footprints. Theyʼve been there a while.”

”Weʼll still use those footprints,” Xu Yan said. ”Tomorrow we follow them. Donʼt go finding your own path.”

”Water?” Qian Duoduo asked. ”No one knows if the second level has water. No water, and the flatbread wonʼt soak.”

”Weʼll see when we get down,” Xu Yan said. ”Before we leave, fill all ten flasks at the western stone trough. Not one leaves empty. Each person carries their own flatbread ration—donʼt pile it all on one personʼs back.”

”Iʼll carry the oilcloth bundle myself,” Cheng Banshan said. ”Nobody takes a turn with it on the road.”

He carried it to the stone steps, crouched, and tested the straps over his shoulders, then stood and took a few steps. He crouched again, tightened the waist strap half a notch, and stood to walk again.

”That works,” he said.

”No more swaying?” Xu Yan asked.

”No swaying.” Cheng Banshan carried the bundle to the storehouse entrance and set it down. ”Once we reach the second level, Iʼll take the page out and look it over.”

”Look for what?”

”See if the page has taken on damp.” He said, ”If itʼs damp, the writing will run. One running character, and nothing matches.”

Jiang Wan tested the weight of her sword in her hand. ”Tomorrow I take the front.”

”Mhm,” Xu Yan said.

”Plenty of the Eight Sects went down,” she said. ”Thereʼll be signs of them once weʼre down there.”

”I know.”

”First we need somewhere to stand, then we look for water,” Jiang Wan said. ”No place to stand, and nothing else matters.”

”Water first,” Xu Yan said.

”Bai Xiaoman stays three paces behind me.”

”Senior Sister,” Bai Xiaoman said, ”I want to look at those five lines one more time before we go.”

”Look,” Xu Yan said.

She set the bowl down, crouched outside the tile ring, and traced the broken line from the east inward, one grid square at a time. After looking for a while, she reached out and touched the groove rim, but put nothing into the groove. She stood and tucked in the hem of her skirt.

Before midday everyone dispersed: Shao Ming and Du Xiaochuan went to the rock face to fill flasks. Huo Qing went to the eastern wall and picked up his sword. Qian Duoduo spread the flatbread portions out on the storehouse steps, one share per person. Qi Qi climbed to the stair mouth to look over the route. Shi Po re-strapped the two bundles, then crouched by the base of the wall without a word.

Xu Yan was the last to enter the outer room.

He stepped in from the threshold and stood among the five shallow grooves. The grooves were empty; the thin layer of dust at the bottom had gone undisturbed. The center flagstone bore a faint circular impression from sitting—pressed there by the folds of her skirt—and one spot at the edge was slightly deeper, where sheʼd braced herself back upright in the second half of the night.

He stood there for a while. Through his clothes he pressed the ledger and the other things against his chest, then turned and went out, pulling the door shut behind him.