My Sect Is Down to Seven People

Chapter 166: The Sword She Cannot Lift

Jiang Wanʼs hand moved first.

Her eyes were still closed. Her right hand crept along the edge of the flat stone, inch by inch, until it found the cloth wrapping around the sword hilt, then stopped. Her fingers curled around it, looser than theyʼd been in sleep. She opened her eyes and stared at the crack in the stone chamberʼs ceiling for a while.

Bai Xiaoman lifted her head from beside Jiang Wanʼs arm, a red mark pressed into her cheek. ”Senior Sister.”

”Water.”

Qian Duoduo had already set the water flask on the corner of the flat stone. Bai Xiaoman pulled the stopper and held it over. Jiang Wan pushed herself upright, and the spot beneath her right ribs pulled tight. Her breath caught halfway; she let it out slowly, drank three mouthfuls, and pushed the flask back.

”The herbs?”

”Twelve stalks, all in Elder Chengʼs medicine pouch.” Bai Xiaoman said, ”We finished gathering them yesterday.”

Jiang Wan made a sound of acknowledgment and didnʼt ask further.

Daylight fell through the opening above the stone chamber, landing just inside the entrance. She sat for a moment, then swung both legs off the flat stone. Her feet met the ground. She braced against the stone and stood. Standing was harder than sitting up—beneath her ribs it felt like two fingers twisting into her, twisting halfway and then stopping, leaving a dull ache behind. She straightened fully, a thin sheen of sweat on her skin.

”A few steps,” she said.

”A few steps it is.” Cheng Banshan looked up from the wall, his empty sleeve tucked behind his back. ”Donʼt push it.”

She walked from the flat stone to the entrance. The ground at the doorway was uneven; her foot snagged, and she caught the door frame to steady herself. The stone plaza beyond was bright with daylight. The pool water moved along its stone edge, very quiet. Qi Qi was crouched on a rock outside the chamber, Shi Po sitting against the wall. Both looked up at her at the same time, then lowered their eyes.

She turned and walked back. Five steps out, five steps back.

”Enough,” Cheng Banshan said. ”Thatʼs all for today. Walk more tomorrow.”

Shi Po stood abruptly, walked to the back of the stone chamber, and carried over the flat stone slab. He set it two paces beyond the entrance and brushed the dust off its surface. ”Tomorrow, walk to here.”

Jiang Wan glanced at the slab. ”Fine.”

She sat back on the edge of the flat stone, chest rising and falling fast. It took a while to even out.

Cheng Banshan shuffled over, fished a pill from his medicine pouch with one hand, and passed it to Bai Xiaoman. ”Break it in half. Same as yesterday.”

Bai Xiaoman pressed it against the flat stone and broke it in two. She brought the first half to Jiang Wanʼs lips. Jiang Wan held it under her tongue, took the water herself, and swallowed—this time without choking. Bai Xiaoman offered the second half, and she swallowed that too. Cheng Banshan scooped out a bit of gray-green salve. Through the clothes it wouldnʼt rub in properly, so Bai Xiaoman lifted the hem of Jiang Wanʼs robe up to her ribs. He applied it thin, no working it in, and closed the clay box when done.

”I feed her the medicine once a day,” he said to Bai Xiaoman. ”If itʼs too bitter and she wonʼt open her mouth, you come tell me.”

”Iʼll open my mouth,” Jiang Wan said.

”Good. Thatʼs how it should be.”

She picked up the sword from the flat stone and slid it back into its sheath. The sheath lay at the corner of the stone; she lifted it, lined the mouth up with the blade, pushed it all the way in until she heard the click. That done, she pressed both hands against her knees.

”I want to try.”

”Try what?” Cheng Banshan said.

She was already standing. Her right hand gripped the sheath and lifted.

The sword, sheath and all, came off the stone—a handʼs height.

Her arm gave out. The sword dropped back down with a slap, kicking up a layer of dust from the stoneʼs surface. At the entrance, Qi Qiʼs shoulder twitched. Shi Poʼs knee tensed as if to rise, but Shao Ming held him down.

Jiang Wan stood there, looking at the sword on the ground. She didnʼt pick it up right away.

Bai Xiaoman hurried over, bending to reach for it.

”Donʼt.”

Bai Xiaomanʼs hand froze midair.

Jiang Wan crouched, took the sword in both hands, and set it back on the flat stone, straightening it, hilt facing out. Done, she sat at the stoneʼs edge, facing the entrance, eyes resting somewhere out on the stone plaza.

Cheng Banshan moved closer. Three fingers pressed to her wrist, longer than yesterday. He released it, then pressed through her clothes at the spot beneath her right ribs—pressed once, listening to her breath—then withdrew his hand and wiped it on his knee.

”Same as I said last night,” he said. ”Ten days of weakness. She can walk, but she canʼt lift a sword.”

No one in the chamber spoke.

She turned her face away, eyes still on the plaza.

Cheng Banshan hung the medicine pouch at his waist, stood, and walked out. At the entrance he turned back. ”One more thing. Donʼt force it these coming days. It wonʼt matter—your hand will go soft and itʼll drop, and itʼll be an ugly drop besides. Youʼll just hurt for nothing.”

He left.

By the hour of the Snake, the daylight had shifted to the center of the chamber.

Xu Yan first sent Qi Qi out. ”Go sit by the edge of the plaza. Watch where they go and what they say. Donʼt approach.”

”Not even answer them?”

”Not a word.”

Qi Qi acknowledged it and slipped along the stone wall. Bai Xiaoman moved to stay by the flat stone, but Xu Yan waved her off. ”You too. Refill the water flask. The spot by the poolʼs hard to scoop from—two people, one holding.”

”I already filled it.”

”Fill it again.”

Bai Xiaoman glanced at Jiang Wan. Jiang Wan tilted her chin toward the door. ”Go on. Iʼm not going to run.”

Bai Xiaoman carried the flask out, glancing back once at the entrance. By the pool, Qian Duoduo was laying coarse grain flatbreads one by one on the rocks, sprinkling water over them from a flask. Seeing them come out, he hollered, ”Save the two soft ones for Senior Sister.”

Only two people remained in the stone chamber.

Xu Yan sat on a stone just inside the door, set the half flatbread in his hand on his knee, and broke off a piece to soak in water. Jiang Wan sat at the edge of the flat stone, her hand on the sword sheath, occasionally brushing the scabbard mouth.

”Xu Yan.”

”Mm.”

”That stick of incense—”

He didnʼt look up.

”You gave it.” She finished the sentence. ”That old ledger of yours—I saw it yesterday. You opened it and read it twice.”

The chamber was quiet. From the pool came the sound of Qian Duoduo and Du Xiaochuan talking, too faint through the stone wall to make out.

Xu Yan fished the softened bread out of the water and set it on the cloth.

”Focus on healing first.”

Jiang Wan watched him for a moment.

Her eyes didnʼt evade, didnʼt press—just watched, until he held the words back in his mouth and let none slip out. After a while, she turned her face away and looked back at the entrance.

”Remember,” she said. ”Donʼt pretend you never gave it.”

”Remembered,” Xu Yan said.

He got up and walked to the entrance, offering half the flatbread to Shi Po. Shi Po took it without question. The sun was at its peak.

At noon the stone plaza was blinding, the rocks bleached white.

Qi Qi crouched behind the half-collapsed stone chamber at the plazaʼs edge, his back against the broken wall, both feet tucked into its base. A draft ran through that spot, carrying voices in broken pieces.

Two Wanshou Mountain disciples sat on a rock in the middle of the plaza. One portioned out water; the other dumped pebbles from his boot. A female disciple from Zixia Palace came over from the far side of the chambers, an empty jar in hand, stopping a few paces away.

”That patch of herbs of yours—you really didnʼt get any?”

”The herbs are in Qingyaʼs hands. Twelve stalks, not one left.”

”All twelve gone?”

The one with the water flask handed it over with a chuckle. ”Picked or not, the herbs donʼt matter. You didnʼt see that woman.”

Qi Qi pressed his back lower.

”What woman?”

”The Qingya woman. Mid-Foundation Establishment.” The other disciple said, ”She hit Senior Brother Xiong in the chest with the flat of her sword. He couldnʼt get up. Four of us carried him back—his chest is still wrapped in cloth.”

The Zixia Palace disciple switched the jar to her other hand, her voice lower. ”Mid-Foundation Establishment. How did she stand up to Senior Brother Xiong?”

”I thought the same thing.” The one with the flask said, ”She took a palm strike first, spat blood, and dropped to her knees. When she went down, we all thought it was over. She knelt there on the rocks without moving, then after a while she stood back up—and when she stood, it was different.”

”Different how?”

”Hard to say. The moment she rose, the hairs on the back of my neck all stood up.” He stoppered the flask and knocked it against the stone. ”That Qingya woman drew on the power of a Golden Core.”

Qi Qiʼs fingers dug into his knee.

The Zixia Palace disciple didnʼt respond. She lifted her eyes toward the pool, stared for a while, then raised the jar to her chest. ”I should take this back and tell our team leader.”

”Go ahead.” The disciple sunning himself kept his eyes closed. ”Everyone on our sideʼs already heard it.”

She turned and left, glancing back once more. The two Wanshou Mountain disciples stayed on the plaza—one lying in the sun, the other still prying pebbles out of his boot, cursing at each one.

Qi Qi didnʼt move. He waited until the two on the plaza finished their water and headed off across the stone, then slowly emerged from behind the broken wall and made his way back along the stone face.

By the hour of the Monkey, the shadow outside the chamber stretched to the threshold.

Jiang Wan sat on the flat stone, her hand on the sword sheath, brushing the scabbard mouth once but not drawing. Bai Xiaoman sat at her feet, hugging her knees.

Qi Qi came in, glanced first at Xu Yan, then at the figure on the flat stone, and lowered his voice. ”Sect Master.”

”Speak.”

”People are talking on the plaza. At the water too.” He swallowed. ”The Wanshou Mountain people tell everyone they see. One finishes, another starts.”

”Telling what?”

”That the Qingya woman drew on the power of a Golden Core.” Qi Qi repeated it word for word. ”Their exact words.”

Xu Yan set the bread back on the cloth.

The chamber went quiet. Shi Po looked up at him. Shao Ming walked in from the pool and stopped at the entrance without coming further. Cheng Banshan leaned against the wall, one hand resting on his medicine pouch, eyes half-closed.

”Whereʼs it spreading from?” Shao Ming asked.

”The plaza,” Qi Qi said. ”On the twentieth—most of the people on the plaza saw it happen.”

”Seeing is one thing,” Shao Ming said. ”Seeing and then telling everyone—thatʼs another.”

”Wanshou Mountainʼs the one telling everyone.”

Xu Yan didnʼt move. He laid the words out in his mind: what started on the plaza reached the waterʼs edge; from the waterʼs edge it went up to the first level; past the first level, it reached that lean-to out front. That road didnʼt need him to walk it—the words would walk themselves. He looked up. ”Understood.”

Qi Qi waited, and seeing no further instruction, retreated to the door and crouched.

”Sect Master,” he said anyway, ”they brought up Zixia Palace too. Someone from Zixia Palace glanced this way and said sheʼd go tell her team leader.”

”Understood,” Xu Yan said. ”No more listening. If youʼre crossing the plaza, tell someone first.”

”I did,” Qi Qi said. ”I didnʼt answer a single word.”

Cheng Banshan opened his eyes. ”Mouths belong to other people. The medicineʼs in my pouch. Which one matters—weʼll see in a few days.”

Xu Yan nodded.

He rose and sat on the stone by the door, breaking the remaining half flatbread in two and holding one piece out to Qi Qi. Qi Qi took it and bit in, cheeks bulging. He looked like he had more to say but glanced into the chamber and lowered his head to take a second bite.

Inside, Jiang Wan laid the sword across her knees, both hands pressed on the sheath, face turned toward the plaza outside, giving no hint of what she was thinking.

Xu Yan finished the other half of the flatbread slowly.