My Sect Is Down to Seven People

Chapter 179: A Dozen-Plus Steps from the Door

”Here,” Xu Yan said.

He tilted his chin toward the last switchback of the stone stairs. The stone chamber had no door panel; the opening had been cut straight out of the rock, sitting a dozen-plus steps above the stone ground in front of it. Standing at the opening and looking down, you could see the lower half of that door—a square seal pattern across the seam, half pressed onto the door, half onto the doorframe.

The ten of them picked up their bundles from the stone steps and filed through the opening one by one.

Xu Yan assigned the sleeping spots first: along the back wall, Jiang Wan, Bai Xiaoman, Qian Duoduo; in the middle, Cheng Banshan, Shao Ming, Du Xiaochuan; near the opening on this side, Shi Po, Qi Qi; Huo Qing in the far corner. He himself would sleep right under the doorway. One instruction: donʼt spread all the bundles out—theyʼd need to be tied up again tomorrow.

The dust on the floor had been tamped flat by other feet. The three sects had spent a night here; the places where people had slept showed patches firmer than the rest. Two burnt-out torch stubs lay against the wall. Du Xiaochuan nudged the nearer one toward the wall corner with his foot; it barely moved.

”Little Xu, itʼs colder down here than up top.” Cheng Banshan walked two steps into the room, looked up at the ceiling, then pressed the back of his hand against the stone wall. ”The cold air sinks and doesnʼt move out. Put your bundle under your lower back—donʼt let your back touch the stone.”

”Iʼm used to sleeping against stone,” Shi Po said.

”Go ahead.” Cheng Banshan said. ”That bit of body heat youʼve got would boil a kettle.”

Qian Duoduo crouched at the edge of the doorway, untied his bundle, and peeled back the cloth wrapping the flatbread layer by layer. He counted once, counted again, looked up. ”One each. Whatʼs left will still be enough tomorrow.”

He passed them around one by one. To Shi Po he handed the thicker one. To Huo Qing, who took it and said, ”Enough.” To Jiang Wan, who didnʼt reach out. ”Break off half and give it to him.”

Qian Duoduo broke it, kept the smaller half for himself, and handed the bigger piece over. Jiang Wan took it and stood in the doorway eating, her eyes looking down.

The water flasks were gathered up. Qian Duoduo shook each in turn. ”Some less than half, some more than half.”

”One mouthful each,” Cheng Banshan said. ”Save the rest for the climb back up tomorrow. That pool up there isnʼt going anywhere, but these stone stairs take a shichen, and thereʼs no water along the way.”

Qian Duoduo poured a shallow bowl and passed it around, one mouthful each. When it reached Shao Ming, he pushed the bowl toward Shi Poʼs hand. ”Him first.” Shi Po didnʼt take it. ”Uncle Shao, you drink.” Qian Duoduo stood caught in the middle, not daring to move either hand.

”Shi Po drinks,” Jiang Wan said from the doorway. ”Heʼll be lifting his feet more than anyone tomorrow.”

Shi Po drained it in one swallow, handed the bowl back, and said, ”Thanks.” At the end there was a thin layer left at the bottom; Qian Duoduo tipped his head back and poured it into his mouth, then wiped his face.

Shao Ming bit into his flatbread and chewed slowly. ”Sect Master, Iʼve run the numbers.”

”Run them.”

”Tomorrow from here up to the second level: one shichen. Second level to first level: two shichen. First level to the stone gate: two shichen.” Shao Ming said. ”Five shichen in total.”

”Tomorrow we go back to the second level first,” Xu Yan said. ”Day after, to the first level. Rest at the top of the stairs. On the day the gate is sealed, we leave early.”

Jiang Wan said from the doorway, ”One water flask per person, for five shichen of walking.”

”No drinking on the road?” Qian Duoduo asked.

”Drink when we get up there,” Jiang Wan said.

Qian Duoduo carried the flasks to the edge of the doorway and lined them up one by one on a flat stone, very neatly.

Qi Qi sat on a stone ledge outside the doorway eating his flatbread, looking down between bites. ”Those three sects spent a whole day at it. Couldnʼt even leave a mark. Ke Wujiuʼs talisman paper—every one he stuck on, it just fell off. Picked them up, the backs were still clean.”

”What does ʼcleanʼ mean?” Bai Xiaoman asked.

”Means no force got through,” Qi Qi said. ”Even the talismans couldnʼt touch the earth qi. A personʼs got even less chance.”

Bai Xiaoman held her flatbread in both hands, eyes fixed on that door. After staring for a while she said, ”A seal is pressed onto paper. A seal on stone—I canʼt figure out how it was made.”

”Then stop figuring,” Cheng Banshan said. He took the wine gourd off his waist, bit the stopper open, sniffed, then plugged it back and hung it at his hip again.

”The wineʼs long gone,” Qian Duoduo said.

”I know itʼs gone,” Cheng Banshan said. ”A sniff is still a sniff.”

Huo Qing sat in the far corner, one leg bent, his sword standing against the wall, his left hand resting on the scabbard mouth. Flatbread finished, that mouthful of water drunk, he leaned back and did not move again.

”Huo Qing,” Jiang Wan called from the doorway.

”Mm.”

”That door—what do you see?”

”Chisel marks angle outward; it slipped,” Huo Qing said. ”The door opens inward.”

The chamber went quiet for a moment.

”Opens inward.” Shao Ming picked it up first. ”Up top I told Shi Po, if you canʼt see the door hinges, donʼt pry. The hinges canʼt be seen, but you figured out which way the door opens.”

”Dust in the seam,” Huo Qing said. ”On the side facing the stone stairs, the seam is clean.”

Shao Ming gave a small smile into his flatbread and asked no more.

”Opens inward—how much space would they have to leave clear inside for that,” Du Xiaochuan said. Heʼd earlier stacked the two torch stubs together, and only now spoke after sitting back against the wall.

”No idea,” Shao Ming said.

”Then donʼt guess,” Shi Po said.

Shi Po leaned against the wall, at first listening with eyes open, then his head dipped forward and he fell asleep just like that, one hand still resting on his bundle.

”Shi Po,” Qian Duoduo called.

”You wonʼt wake him,” Shao Ming said. ”The moment he touches ground heʼs asleep, and heʼs still got strength at dawn.”

Qian Duoduo crouched at the doorway, wiping his hands on his trousers over and over. Suddenly he said, ”I canʼt sleep.”

”Then lie there with your eyes closed,” Cheng Banshan said. ”Lying down still counts as rest.”

”Elder Cheng, tomorrow on the way up—what if we run into people from other sects...”

”Then we run into them,” Xu Yan said. ”The rules are there.”

”But what if theyʼre waiting for us up top...” Qian Duoduo swallowed the rest of the sentence himself.

”Thereʼs only one path up,” Xu Yan said. ”Too many people jammed together canʼt move fast. We go up last; they went up first, and the ones who went up first scatter first.”

Qian Duoduo nodded, whether he understood or just wanted to hear someone speak. Heʼd eaten half his flatbread; the other half he wrapped in cloth and tucked into his bundle.

Cheng Banshan took the medicine pouch off his waist, set it by his head, and patted it. ”Twelve stalks in here. Nobody lies on it.” Then he tilted his chin toward the doorway. ”Senior Sister, does your side still hurt?”

”It doesnʼt.”

”Itʼs cold at night. Donʼt sit there for two shichen straight. When you sit, put a bundle behind your lower back.”

”I know.”

Light fell from that crack high on the stone wall, landing on the stone floor in a small patch, slowly narrowing. By the Dog hour it had drawn itself in completely. The chamber darkened first, and later even the door seam and the stone wall could no longer be told apart—only that faint border of the seal pattern still showed its outline.

Jiang Wan sat on the stone steps outside the doorway, sword across her knees. She drew it halfway, studied the edge in the last of the light, then pushed it back into the sheath, palm resting on the scabbard mouth, eyes fixed below.

Xu Yan sat against the stone on the inner side of the doorway. The two of them were a few paces apart.

”They wonʼt come down again?” Jiang Wan asked.

”Not before the gate is sealed,” Xu Yan said.

”Just leave it.”

”Leave it.”

She didnʼt press further. After a while she brushed the last crumbs from her hand. ”That square seal—Bai Xiaoman says it was pressed on.”

”Thatʼs what she said,” Xu Yan said.

”What did you see?”

”I saw that I havenʼt tried.”

Jiang Wan turned her head and glanced at him, didnʼt smile, didnʼt pursue it. She turned back, still looking down. That was how she always asked: one question, one answer, and never asked for more.

”Three watches tonight,” Xu Yan said. ”Senior Sister takes You to Xu, Qi Qi takes Hai to Zi, Chou to Yin is mine. No fire on night watch.”

”Sect Master, let me take Chou to Yin,” Shao Ming said from inside. ”Iʼm old; I donʼt need much sleep.”

”Youʼre walking in front tomorrow,” Xu Yan said. ”Sleep.”

”Iʼve always slept soundly through Chou to Yin,” Shao Ming said.

”Swapping him out will only keep him awake more,” Jiang Wan said from outside. ”All these years, heʼs never traded away the Chou-to-Yin watch.”

Shao Ming didnʼt argue. He spread out his bundle and lay down on his side.

Du Xiaochuan asked, ”Is one person at the door enough? Shouldnʼt it be two per watch?”

”One,” Xu Yan said. ”Thereʼs only one path down here.”

Bai Xiaoman sat at the edge of the doorway, cloth for wrapping the formation banners on her knees, dropping the five pebbles in one by one, tying it shut, hugging it to her chest.

”Sleep,” Jiang Wan said.

”Let me finish counting this round,” Bai Xiaoman said.

”When you finish counting, sleep.”

”Done counting.” She hugged the cloth bundle, lay down against the wall, eyes still open.

”Tomorrow you walk in front,” Jiang Wan said again. ”Behind Shi Po. Step exactly where he steps.”

”Mm,” Bai Xiaoman answered.

Qian Duoduo was the third to fall asleep. Less than half a quarter-hour after lying down, his breathing lengthened. In his sleep he rolled over and pulled his bundle tight to his chest.

At the Hai hour, Jiang Wan stood, walked inside, and sat in a spot against the wall, laying the sword within armʼs reach, closing her eyes.

Qi Qi took over the watch, sitting on the stone steps outside the doorway, back against the rock wall, hands folded on his knees.

Xu Yan lay down on the stone floor beside the doorway, bundle under his lower back.

”Sect Master, youʼre not sleeping?” Qi Qi asked.

”Just closing my eyes,” Xu Yan said.

”You close your eyes every night. You close them until someone calls you,” Qi Qi said.

”You talk too much.”

Qi Qi laughed quietly, lowering his voice. ”What if those three sects come back down tomorrow?”

”They wonʼt.”

”How do you know?”

”Pang Ce said he wasnʼt going to waste more time on this door,” Xu Yan said. ”Heʼs a man who does accounting. Once heʼs run the numbers and said no more wasting, he means no more wasting.”

Qi Qi nodded. After a while he spoke again. ”Running up and down this whole way, thereʼs wind everywhere else. Wind at the top of the stairs, wind at the fork, wind by that stone trough on the first level.”

”Mm.”

”Not on this door,” Qi Qi said. ”Iʼve stood right against the door seam. Not a thread of it.”

”Remember it,” Xu Yan said.

”Remember it for what?”

”Just remember it.”

Qi Qi turned those two sentences over in his mind and couldnʼt make sense of them, and didnʼt ask again. He lowered his hands from his knees and rested them on the stone steps.

”Sleep,” Xu Yan said.

”Iʼm on watch.”

”Then lean back and sleep.”

Qi Qi said nothing more. Before long his head tilted toward the stone wall and his breathing slowed.

Inside the chamber it was too dark to see anyone, only breathing to be heard.

Shi Poʼs breathing was deep, solid on the way in and solid on the way out. Qian Duoduo paused, then picked up snoring again. Du Xiaochuan turned over, a soft rasp on the stone floor. Shao Mingʼs breathing was even. Cheng Banshanʼs was rough, with a heavy breath every so often. Huo Qingʼs was the faintest, nearly inaudible—you had to wait for the next one. Jiang Wanʼs breathing had not yet settled; every now and then it stirred, the sound of a palm brushing the scabbard mouth.

One by one, they slowed.

Xu Yan kept his eyes open, both hands resting on his chest and stomach, right hand pressing through his clothing onto the ledger, fingers flattening the cloth.

The ledger had not produced a single word all day. It said nothing.

The stone steps were right outside the doorway, a dozen-plus steps down.

He counted them once, then counted them again.