My Sect Is Down to Seven People

Chapter 162: Thereʼs Another Clause in Rule Four

”Senior Sister, Iʼm leaving this to you.”

Xu Yan finished speaking and tilted his chin toward the far end of the stone plaza. ”Iʼm taking Elder Cheng, Uncle Shao, and Huo Qing to the farthest rooms. Weʼll be back before noon.”

Jiang Wan picked up the sword leaning against the rock wall and held it at her side. ”We went over this yesterday. Iʼll be at the waterʼs edge.”

”What do the marks look like?” Shao Ming asked.

”Donʼt know.” Xu Yan said. ”A square seal like the ones at the top of ledger pages, or carved characters. If it doesnʼt feel like it belongs on the stone of this level, bring it back.”

Shao Ming grunted and cinched his belt half a notch tighter.

Cheng Banshan tucked his empty sleeve into the back of his waistband and walked over to Du Xiaochuan, tapping twice on his palm with one hand. ”Call me at the start of the noon hour. When the light from above falls on the middle line of the pool, call me.”

Du Xiaochuan wiped his hands on his clothes. ”Start of noon. Iʼll go call you.”

”Before the dew condenses, nobody touches it.” Cheng Banshan said. ”Donʼt reach out and touch the leaf centers. One touch, and that stalkʼs whole night of accumulation is wasted.”

”Not even a touch?”

”Not even.”

Qian Duoduo stood at the stone chamberʼs entrance holding a bowl. ”Iʼll be right here at the door. Whoever comes back, find me first.”

Xu Yan glanced back at him, then at Shi Po and Qi Qi. ”Five people at the water. Shi Po stands in front of the grass. If anyone approaches, stand your ground, no fighting. Qi Qi watches the stone plaza. If thereʼs movement, run back and get me.”

”Run back—forty, fifty paces.” Qi Qi said.

”Run if you can run.”

Qi Qi bent his waist and knocked his heel against the ground once, which counted as acknowledgment.

Xu Yan and the three others left the stone chamber and headed across the stone plaza.

The plaza was larger than the courtyard in front of the Mountain Gate. Halfway across, the stones underfoot pressed tight against one another, the low grass in the cracks trampled flat and then standing again. The white brightness overhead shone down, a thin layer of light on the stone surface. Every dozen paces the light shifted, and they moved with it. Halfway there, the row of stone chambers at the far end came clear: lower than the ones by the pool, pressed tight against the rock face, doors all old wood, shut, dark inside.

There were people sitting in front of the chambers.

Four sat cross-legged outside one doorway, trouser legs bound, leather pouches hanging from thick belts. Another stood beneath the rock wall—the tallest, broad-shouldered, hands clasped behind his back, looking toward them.

Shao Ming said in a low voice behind Xu Yan, ”Xiong Dai.”

”Sect Master Xu.” Xiong Dai spoke first.

”Daoyou Xiong.” Xu Yan stopped. ”Weʼre checking these chambers for old items bearing Qingya marks. Rule Five.”

Xiong Dai lifted his eyes toward the row of chambers. ”Already searched. Empty.”

”Searched or not, weʼll look again.” Xu Yan said. ”The rule says anything bearing a name or mark belongs to that sect.”

”Look, then.” Xiong Dai said.

He turned and said something to the four. One by one they stood, brushing dust from their trousers. Xiong Dai walked first, passing by Xu Yanʼs group without haste and without looking at anyone. When they reached the middle of the plaza, one of the disciples behind asked him something. Xiong Daiʼs voice drifted back over the stone, just a single line:

”Waterʼs edge.”

Huo Qing stopped and looked back toward the plaza. On the far side, a line of white light; the figures were small, too small to recognize.

”One more room.” Xu Yan said.

”Should we go back?” Shao Ming asked quietly.

”After this one, we all go together.” Xu Yan said. ”Five people at the water. Rule Four says you canʼt take what someone already holds in their hands.”

”The grass is still in the ground.” Cheng Banshan said.

”Thatʼs why I said Iʼm not sure.”

The three followed him into the stone chamber.

The first room had a layer of dust on the floor. A stone platform ran along the wall, its surface wiped clean, as if someone had run a hand over it. Shao Ming drew a line through the dust with one finger, followed it to the end. What came up beneath was stone slab, no carved characters. Huo Qing crouched and checked under the platform too, running his fingers around the inside. He pulled out a pinch of dust and flicked it away.

The second room was narrower than the first, the doorway low—they had to duck to enter. Huo Qing turned up a piece of broken iron in the corner, two fingers long, rusted brown, with an uneven break. He showed it to Xu Yan, who took it and turned it over twice: no seal, no characters.

”Not a sword.” Huo Qing said.

”Keep it.” Xu Yan tucked it into his clothes. ”Weʼll look at it together when we get back.”

The third roomʼs ceiling had half collapsed. Fallen stone blocked the doorway; no one could get in. Cheng Banshan shifted the bundle on his shoulder and said, ”Donʼt go in.”

Xu Yan stood at the entrance and looked in. It was dark inside; only one shaft of light fell through the collapse, landing on broken stone, illuminating nothing.

”Letʼs head back.” Cheng Banshan said. ”The sunʼs nearly at its height.”

”Back.” Xu Yan said.

He turned first. The four walked from the far end of the plaza toward the pool, faster than theyʼd come, no one speaking, just feet on stone, one step, one sound.

The vigil at the water had stood since the Dragon hour.

Jiang Wan stood a pace in front of the grass plot. Behind her was Bai Xiaoman, and a few paces behind her, Du Xiaochuan, holding the empty medicine pouch. Shi Po stood at the east end of the plot, heels planted, shoulders loose, eyes on the stone plaza. Qi Qi was farther out, sitting on a rock, one leg propped up.

The sun climbed. In the plot, every blade of grass had its leaf center curled downward, curled tight.

Bai Xiaoman crouched and measured the ground with her fingers, inch by inch. After a while she looked up and asked, ”Senior Sister, should I press the pebbles into the ground now?”

”Not yet.” Jiang Wan said.

”Better to get them in early, if theyʼre coming over—”

”Press them in, and weʼve made the first move.” Jiang Wan said. ”Rule Four: each keeps what they gain. The grass is still in the ground; no oneʼs picked it. If he doesnʼt come, we donʼt press.”

Bai Xiaoman withdrew her hand and sat back on her heels.

At the start of the Snake hour, there were people at the plazaʼs edge.

Five, coming around the side of the plaza, walking along the pool, stopping on this side. The one in front was the tallest, broad-shouldered, his outer robe open at the chest, skin showing. Four behind him stood in a row, half a pace back.

Xiong Dai.

”This plot of grass belongs to Wanshou Mountain.” he said. ”Move.”

Jiang Wan stood her ground. ”Rule Four.”

”The grass grows in the ground.” Xiong Dai said. ”Itʼs not in anyoneʼs hands. Each keeps what they gain.”

”Thereʼs another clause in Rule Four.” Jiang Wan said. ”No taking of human life.”

Xiong Dai studied the grass plot for a while, then raised his eyes to her. ”Whereʼs Sect Master Xu?”

”Not here.”

”Then youʼre the one who speaks.”

”The rules speak.” Jiang Wan said.

Xiong Dai smiled—not at her, more like heʼd just heard a sentence heʼd expected all along. He glanced back at the poolʼs surface, turned, walked three zhang away, and sat down cross-legged.

The four disciples sat too.

The two sides faced each other with the grass plot between them.

A sheen lay on the pool. The wind couldnʼt reach this place; the water didnʼt move. The white brightness overhead inched toward the center, slid from the poolʼs heart to its near side, onto the plot. A hint of moisture showed in the gray-green of the leaves. Jiang Wanʼs hand rested on the sword hilt. She hadnʼt drawn.

Among the seated group, a disciple said quietly, ”Senior Brother, wait for noon?”

”Wait.” Xiong Dai said.

After another stretch, the disciple spoke again. ”Their grass—”

”I know itʼs grass.” Xiong Dai said.

Shi Po shifted half a step forward, planting his feet wider. Xiong Dai glanced at him once, took him in, looked away. ”You. Stand farther back.”

”Iʼll stand here.” Shi Po said.

Xiong Dai didnʼt speak again.

Qi Qi couldnʼt sit still on his rock. He came over half a pace from Jiang Wan and kept his voice down. ”Senior Sister, let me go get the Sect Master.”

”At the start of the noon hour, Du Xiaochuan goes.” Jiang Wan said. ”Elder Cheng needs to come back and pick the grass, and thatʼs exactly noon. If he comes back early, he wonʼt run into them on the way.”

”There are five of them.”

”I can see that.” Jiang Wan said. ”Watch the plaza. If anyone comes down toward us, say so.”

Qi Qi went back and sat, knocking his heel once against the ground, then again.

Bai Xiaoman crouched behind Jiang Wan, took two pebbles from inside her clothes, pressed them into her palm, studying them. After a while she looked up. ”Senior Sister, heʼs sitting closer and closer.”

Jiang Wan looked. Xiong Daiʼs position hadnʼt moved, but the four behind him had drifted—one shifted half a pace, another spread his legs wider, the group loosening outward.

”The marks—just watch them.” Jiang Wan said.

”Understood.” Bai Xiaoman put the pebbles back into her clothes.

The sun rose a little more. The grass leaves began to unfurl upward, slowly, one by one, the concave centers brightening with a gleam.

Du Xiaochuan said softly from behind, ”Senior Sister, the lightʼs nearly at the middle line. Should I go call Elder Cheng?”

”At the start of the noon hour.” Jiang Wan said. ”You call when itʼs time to call.”

”If he comes back late, the grass dries out.”

”He wants this grass more than anyone.” Jiang Wan said. ”Heʼll get himself moving.”

Du Xiaochuan grunted and wiped both hands on the medicine pouch.

Three zhang away, Xiong Dai stood.

”Nearly noon.” he said. ”Move.”

Jiang Wan didnʼt move.

”Iʼll only say this once.” Xiong Dai stepped forward.

Jiang Wan brought the sword up in front of her, horizontal, undrawn.

Xiong Dai took another step.

At that moment, Bai Xiaoman slipped through the gap between them and crouched at the west end of the plot, one hand scooping soil, the other pressing a pebble down. Sheʼd long since picked the spot for the eastern one, and checked the southern one twice as well. She pressed the first pebble into the soil, lifted her hand, pressed the second.

”Bai Xiaoman.” Jiang Wanʼs tone changed. ”Back up.”

The third went in. Her hand hadnʼt yet come out of the soil.

Xiong Dai arrived.

A palm came down, aimed at the one crouching by the grass.

The strike drove the grass flat to one side. Jiang Wan cut in sideways, shoulder first, shoving Bai Xiaoman out of the way; the blow landed square on Jiang Wan herself, just below her right ribs.

The sound was small—a muffled thump, like a wooden mallet hitting a full sack.

Jiang Wan staggered back half a step, then another. Her foot scraped stone with a sharp sound. She steadied, opened her mouth, and spat a mouthful of blood onto the stone at her feet. It ran a thin line down the stoneʼs edge.

The grass sprang back, swayed twice, stood upright again.

Xiong Dai withdrew his hand and looked back at his four. ”Donʼt move.”

The four were already halfway to their feet. They sat back, hands on knees.

Jiang Wan lifted the back of her hand, wiped her mouth, lowered it. She didnʼt so much as glance at her side. She hefted the sword horizontal, shifted half a step, and stood before the plot, directly facing Xiong Dai.

”Qi Qi.” she said. ”Go get the Sect Master.”

Qi Qi was already running. His body dropped low, cutting along the line at the plazaʼs edge toward the far end, fast as something darting through a crack in the stones. Ten-some paces out, his voice finally carried back: ”Sect Master—waterʼs edge—”

Shi Po crossed in two strides and yanked Bai Xiaoman behind him. Her hand still clutched two pebbles, knuckles white, eyes fixed on the three little holes already pressed into the soil.