My Sect Is Down to Seven People

Chapter 169: Today I Fight Back

Cheng Banshan turned Jiang Wanʼs left wrist over and pressed three fingers against it, holding at one point on the outer edge, then shifting to the other side. His empty sleeve was tucked behind his back, and the wine gourd at his waist knocked against the stone with a soft clink.

Jiang Wan had rolled her right sleeve up to the elbow. She sat at the edge of the flat stone, back straight. The light of the Hidden Realm fell across the doorway of the stone chamber, pale and gray.

”How many times did you wake in the night?”

”Twice.”

”Does it hurt when you turn over?”

”Not if I turn slowly.”

Cheng Banshan grunted, released her wrist, and moved his hand lower, pressing through her clothes just behind and below her right ribs. Jiang Wanʼs shoulder shifted, very faintly. He pressed down three times, then pulled his hand back.

”The spot inside is still hard,” he said. ”Keep up the medicine, stay still and behave. Until the end of the month. You can pick up a sword again on the first.”

Jiang Wan didnʼt answer. Her eyes moved past his shoulder, out toward the stone plaza.

There was sound on the stone plaza. A sword went out, the tip tapping once against the stone, pausing, then drawing back. A breath later, it went out again.

She rolled her sleeve down, tied the cuff, and glanced at Xu Yan.

Xu Yan stood by the door, facing outward, watching.

Out at the far side of the stone plaza, Huo Qing had been practicing since before dawn. He faced a waist-high boulder, its front surface worn bright, a shade paler than the rest. The sword went out, struck the same point, came back. The sword did not return to its sheath; it only dipped to knee height, then rose again. His right arm hung at his side, straighter than usual. He did not move a step.

One thrust, one withdrawal. Not fast, not slow.

Shi Po crouched about six meters away, counting under his breath. Around twenty-something he lost track, scratched his head, and started over.

Bai Xiaoman stood at the doorway holding a cloth-wrapped bundle. Inside were four formation banners and a packet of small stones. She hadnʼt opened it. She watched for a while, then asked Shi Po, ”How many thrusts does Senior Brother Huo do in a day?”

”Canʼt count them,” Shi Po said.

”He practices like this every day?”

”He starts before first light. I got up in the middle of the night yesterday and he was already out there.”

”Then that boulder—”

”That boulderʼs taken more than the two of us put together.”

Bai Xiaoman gave a faint laugh, small and quickly contained, and her eyes went back to the stone plaza.

Cheng Banshan took the medicine box from his robes, opened it on his knee, and pinched out one pill, handing it to Bai Xiaoman. Bai Xiaoman split it in half with her thumbnail and passed both halves to Jiang Wan. Jiang Wan took them and washed them down with water from her flask.

”Is it bitter?” Bai Xiaoman asked.

”No.”

”Medicineʼs always bitter.”

”This one isnʼt.”

Cheng Banshan closed the lid. ”Finish this box, then you switch to the batch I prepared. Slightly weaker, but itʼll hold.” He tucked the box back into his robes and added, ”Donʼt act like youʼre almost healed.”

”Iʼm not acting like it.”

”You walked to the edge of the plaza yesterday.”

”Two steps.”

”Two steps.” Cheng Banshan pronounced the words with precision. ”Today youʼll want three. Tomorrow, five. If you canʼt lift a sword on the first, donʼt sulk in front of me.”

Jiang Wan didnʼt answer. She laid a hand over the spot on her ribs, pressed through her clothes, then let go.

”Two walks a day,” Cheng Banshan said, rising and clapping a hand against his knee. ”Go until your legs feel warm, then come back. If it passes warm, sit. Donʼt overdo it.”

”Two is too few,” Jiang Wan said.

”Two.” Cheng Banshan walked out. ”Suit yourself. When have you ever listened.”

At the Dragon hour, Qian Duoduo set his bundle on the stone steps and unfolded it layer by layer.

”One each,” he said. ”The soft ones are at the bottom. Youʼll have to dig.”

The ten of Qingya scattered between the stone chamber door and the pool, a flatbread in each hand. Jiang Wanʼs was soft. Qian Duoduo had pulled it out separately from the corner of the bundle and pressed it into her hands. She broke off half and offered it back. Qian Duoduo wouldnʼt take it.

”Finish it.”

”I canʼt.”

”If you canʼt, save it for noon.” He pressed the half back into her hands. ”Leftoverʼs still yours.”

So Jiang Wan ate the other half too.

Xu Yan sat at one end of the flat stone slab by the chamber door, eating his flatbread bite by bite, slowly. In his mind he laid out the days: the twenty-ninth, thirtieth, first, second, third, fourth, fifth. From today to the day the gate sealed—seven days.

He laid out what had to be done in those seven days too: there were still several places on the second level they hadnʼt walked to the end of. They needed to cover them before someone else got there first. Qian Duoduo knew how much flatbread was left. Jiang Wan couldnʼt take up a sword until the first. Once the first passed, her sword should no longer be resting against the stone wall.

He laid out one more thing: today was Jiang Wanʼs eighth day of weakness. Cheng Banshan had said ten days. The first would be day one.

Below the stone steps by the pool, Bai Xiaoman opened half her bundle and set out her five stones on an empty patch of the plaza. The first went into the dirt. The second, third, fourth—a circle. The fifth she held in her hand, crouching, unmoving. She looked up toward the stone chamber door.

Jiang Wan rose from the flat stone slab, walked to the door, and stood just inside the threshold. She didnʼt speak.

Bai Xiaoman raised her hand slightly. The fifth stone dropped into the center of the circle.

”When it lands, donʼt let go,” Jiang Wan said.

”Does the formation scatter if I do?”

”The formation wonʼt scatter. You will.”

Bai Xiaoman pried the stones out one by one and set them again.

At the end of the Dragon hour, there was someone at the far side of the plaza.

Qi Qi came around from the pool, wiping his hands on his robes.

”On the far side of the plaza, thereʼs a man standing at the door of the Heavenly Sword Sectʼs chamber,” he said, voice low. ”I went down for a scoop of water and came back—he was still standing there. Didnʼt sit, didnʼt come this way.”

”Standing there watching what?” Xu Yan asked.

”Watching Senior Brother Huo.”

Bai Xiaoman turned. ”Watching Senior Brother Huo?”

”Senior Brother Huo trains. The man watches.” Qi Qi said. ”I walked right past him and he never moved his eyes.”

From this end of the stone plaza to that end stretched an entire expanse of stone. Seen across it, all you could make out was that the man wore dark clothes, stood straight, feet apart.

Xu Yan watched for a moment and asked nothing more. Shi Po stuffed the rest of his flatbread into his mouth, stood to glance over, then crouched back down. Huo Qing kept at it—one thrust, one return. From this side, his right arm never moved from his side.

”Donʼt go over there,” Xu Yan said.

”We wonʼt,” Qi Qi said. ”I only passed by the pool.”

”And donʼt linger too long by the pool either.”

”Understood.”

Qi Qi crouched to drink, then remembered something. ”Sect Master, theyʼve been down here over a day now. Those chambers on the far side—not one door has opened.”

”How do you know none have opened?”

”The dust lines on the doorframes are unbroken. Nobodyʼs touched them.”

Xu Yan gave no response. Ten people down here, their chambers not yet searched, and someone was standing at the door watching Huo Qing practice swordsmanship. He filed that away without reading more into it.

”Shi Po.” Xu Yan called. ”The Heavenly Sword Sect people are on this side now. Donʼt wander far from Bai Xiaoman.”

”Mm.” Shi Po grunted and shifted half a step closer to her, then crouched back down.

Half a quarter-hour later, Huo Qing stopped. Sword tip resting on the ground, he lifted his left arm and wiped his brow. Shi Po asked, ”Resting?”

”No.” Huo Qing said, and the sword went out again.

Shao Ming sat in the stone chamber doorway, watching for a while. ”Going out slower than yesterday,” he said. ”Landing heavier.”

Shi Po glanced back at Shao Ming, then turned to look again. The sword over there was the same as ever—one thrust, one return, and on the boulderʼs face a single pale point, always pale at exactly that spot.

Qian Duoduo filled the water flasks one by one and set them in a row. Du Xiaochuan crouched by the pool washing his hands. When he finished he shook them dry, looked back toward the far side of the plaza, and quickly lowered his head.

Xu Yan ran the regulations through his mind. Rule Four only forbade taking a life and seizing what was already in someoneʼs hand. A duel touched neither. If it truly came to a fight, no one needed permission. No one needed to ask.

He swallowed the last bite of flatbread.

Before noon, a gust of wind crossed the poolʼs surface. The water rippled, then stilled. Fine dust on the stone plaza skittered along the rock and settled into the cracks.

When the light was directly overhead, the men on the far side of the plaza moved.

Ten of them came walking from that end. At the front, the leader carried his sword crosswise behind his back. The sword was wrapped in cloth, and the cloth was tied with two knots, pulled tight. They walked slowly, footsteps falling on stone in unison.

Qi Qi was already back at this side. In a low voice he said, ”The one from the wharf.”

Shi Po stood first and stepped in front of Bai Xiaoman, pressing her bundle against her chest. Shao Ming walked two steps out from the chamber door and stopped. Qian Duoduo set his flatbread down on the stone steps and stood. Du Xiaochuan stood too, moving beside Shi Po.

Jiang Wan stood. Her hand brushed the stone wall, found the sword sheath, then released.

Cheng Banshan came up beside her, his empty sleeve tucked at his back, face turned toward the plaza.

Xu Yan didnʼt move. He stood at the chamber door, both hands at his sides.

Huo Qing was beside his practice boulder in the middle of the plaza. He lowered his sword tip and turned around.

Wei Changge walked to the center of the stone plaza and stopped.

”Junior Brother Huo.”

No one on the plaza made a sound. The water by the pool rippled once.

Huo Qing didnʼt answer. He didnʼt step forward either.

”At the wharf, I said if you drew, I wouldnʼt fight back.”

Wei Changge paused. Wind crossed the stone plaza, lifting the cloth ends where the knots were tied.

”Today I fight back.”

Huo Qing turned his head and looked at Xu Yan.

Xu Yan nodded once.

From the moment Wei Changge stepped onto the plaza until now, his eyes had not left Huo Qingʼs face. Not once had they shifted toward the stone chamber. He waited until Huo Qing turned back around before speaking again.

”No ring. No incense. If you canʼt go on, say so.”

Huo Qing adjusted his grip on the sword in his left hand, tip down. ”Fine.”

Wei Changge raised his hand to the first knot behind his back and untied it. Then the second. The cloth loosened, and the sword came free—its blade not gleaming, but holding a dull, restrained sheen. He wound the cloth around his left wrist, four turns, and tucked the end in. His left arm hung at his side, motionless. His right hand held the sword hilt.

The Heavenly Sword Sect men withdrew to the far end of the plaza and stood in a row, shoulder to shoulder, no gaps between them. The Qingya people withdrew to the side by the chamber door, yielding the flat stone slab before it.

Between them stretched an open expanse of stone. Water had dripped on it for untold years, carving shallow channels, pale and bright.

Huo Qing carried his sword forward and stopped halfway, tip down. Wei Changge stepped forward a few paces too, planting his feet apart. The two shadows drew in beneath their boots. Neither moved again.

Xu Yan stood at the chamber door, both hands at his sides. He didnʼt take a single step forward.