My Sect Is Down to Seven People

Chapter 187: North to the Cliff Top of the Back Mountain

On the eighth day of the sixth month, in the Snake hour, the main hallʼs doors stood wide open. Sunlight spilled in and fell upon the brick floor three feet inside the threshold. Rain had fallen the night before; the ground before the mountain gate was still soft. Nie Boʼs broom swept down the stone steps, pushing wet mud into ridges, each stroke carrying into the hall.

Shi Po and Du Xiaochuan moved the square table toward the back of the hall, its legs scraping twice against the bricks before settling flat. A clerk pressed an inkstone down on one corner, spread the petition out, and weighed the other end with a paperweight. Wen Su came in through the mountain gate, crossed the front courtyard, and entered the hall. She set a leather water flask on the table corner and sat down. Another clerk stood at her side holding a wooden box, the lid unopened.

The eight team leaders filed in behind her and took position along the left side of the hall, lining up from the doorway to the edge of the table. The Qingya people stood on the right: Jiang Wan first, then Cheng Banshan, Shao Ming, Huo Qing, Du Xiaochuan, Qian Duoduo, Shi Po, Qi Qi, and Bai Xiaoman. Xu Yan stood at the front of the hall, aligned with neither side.

No one in the hall sat. A He and A Sui crowded just outside the threshold; A Sui braced a hand on the door frame and leaned in, poking her head around the edge.

Xiong Dai stood at the head of the left line, hands clasped behind his back. The clerk read the petition aloud. Xiong Dai never once glanced at the paper; his eyes stayed on Xu Yan.

The clerk read slowly. When he reached the line ”must have eaten something in the Hidden Realm,” the hall went still for a moment. When he read ”kept watch on the gate for nineteen days since the sixteenth of the fourth month,” Qian Duoduoʼs foot shifted on the bricks before he forced it still.

When the reading ended, the clerk smoothed the paper and stepped back half a pace.

Wen Su answered the second article first.

”The seal strip from the sixteenth of the fourth month—I placed it,” she said. ”Before the gate opened on the fifth of the fifth month, I inspected it in the presence of the eight team leaders and Sect Master Xu. It had not been touched.”

The clerk opened another volume and ran his finger down the page. ”Qingya, ten people. Checked in on the fifth of the fifth month, checked out on the fifth of the sixth month. Ten in, ten out.”

”The seal strip undisturbed doesnʼt mean the people inside canʼt move,” Xiong Dai said.

”The seal strip governs the gate. The roster governs the people,” Wen Su said. ”The gate was inspected by me, the roster ticked by my clerk. This article does not stand.”

Xiong Dai closed his mouth. The muscle in his jaw tightened.

”The first article.” Wen Su said. ”Jiang Wan, step forward.”

Jiang Wan came out from the right side. She walked without haste, stopped at the table, and laid her right hand on its edge, pushing her sleeve up a section.

Wen Su drew a silver needle from her sleeve, held within a small cloth. The clerk beside her opened the wooden box, took out a coarse porcelain bowl, and poured half a bowl of clear water from the leather flask. The ring of ripples on the waterʼs surface slowly settled.

”Hand,” Wen Su said.

Jiang Wan turned her hand over, palm up. Wen Su took the needle and pricked the tip of a finger.

A drop of blood fell into the water, spread, and sank. The water remained clear.

Every eye in the hall was fixed on that bowl. Xiong Dai stepped forward half a pace. Pang Ce craned his neck from the back.

Wen Su put the needle back in its cloth. ”Not a Spirit-Surging Elixir.”

The clerk picked up the bowl and carried it first to Xiong Dai, letting him look down into it, then one by one to Pang Ce, Lin Lian, Tan Shuo, Ke Wujiu, Qin Ruo, and Gan Ren. Last, the bowl came to Wei Changge. He glanced at it and did not move. The bowl was returned to the table and set at its corner. That faint thread of red in the clear water had already sunk to the bottom and diffused into a small cloud.

Jiang Wan withdrew her right hand and let it hang at her side. A small red dot remained on her fingertip. She did not wipe it, and she did not look down at the bowl. She stood still, watching Wen Su.

Xiong Dai turned to face Xu Yan. ”Sect Master Xu, where did that Golden Core power come from?”

Xu Yanʼs mouth opened slightly.

”The regulations do not ask that,” Wen Su said first.

Xu Yan closed his mouth and folded his hands before him, unmoving.

”Rank Evaluator,” Xiong Dai said, ”eighty people spent a month down there. How are we supposed to report back with this?”

”Ask what you are entitled to ask, and I will answer each item,” Wen Su said. ”Ask what is not in the regulations, and I will not answer.”

”Then have Qingya show what they took from the Hidden Realm,” Xiong Dai said. ”Show it, let us see it, so we have something to report.”

”The regulations have no such article,” Wen Su said. ”The gate does not inspect; the gate does not report.”

Xiong Daiʼs shoulders dropped. He looked back at the people behind him. Pang Ce met that look and half-raised a hand, then let it fall. Lin Lian turned away, gazing out at the courtyard beyond the hall.

”That bundle Qingya carried out,” Pang Ce said, speaking up himself. ”Burnt scraps of paper. Our Jinding Pavilion searched through them inside. All waste paper.”

”What Jinding Pavilion searched, Qingya did not contest,” Wen Su said.

”We mean—”

”Daoyou Pang.” Wen Su raised her head. ”Article four of the regulations states: within the Hidden Realm, each keeps what each obtains. These articles were read aloud three times on the notice. All eight team leaders were present. The wording was the same for everyone.”

Pang Ce said nothing.

Xu Yan took two steps forward.

He drew the land deed from his chest, pinching it by the corner along its crease. A sheet of paper came out with it. He spread that sheet on Wen Suʼs table, smoothing it flat. One corner curled slightly; he held it down with two fingers.

”Rank Evaluator,” he said. ”This page was picked up by Qingya in the accountantʼs office on the first level. Note the vermilion mark at the top, fellow daoyou.”

Pang Ce came over first, picked up the paper, and held it against the light from the doorway. The paper was yellowed, its edges scorched black, but the square red seal at the top was intact on all four sides. He turned it over—the back was blank—turned it back, pressed a finger over the red seal, and only then set it back on the table.

Gan Ren leaned in. ”Just this one page?”

”This one is clear,” Xu Yan said.

Lin Lian swept her eyes over it and stepped back. Ke Wujiu picked up the paper, read the few lines of daily entries from beginning to end, set it back down, and aligned the corners. Tan Shuo and Qin Ruo both looked. Wei Changge stood where he was, hands hanging at his sides, and did not reach out.

”Article five,” Wen Su said. ”Old items bearing another sectʼs name or mark belong to that sect. The mark at the top of this page is the mark of the Qingya Accounts Room.”

She picked up the land deed. It had been folded twice; she opened it layer by layer along the old creases and spread it on the table, studying the four-boundaries column. The hall was silent but for the sound of the paper.

”East to the boundary stele on the ridge.” Her tone was even. ”South to the main road below the mountain. West to... North to the cliff top of the Back Mountain.”

She lifted her head and looked at the clerk at her elbow. ”On the sixteenth of the fourth month, where was the gate?”

The clerk flipped through a register. ”In answer, Rank Evaluator: the gate lay south of the cliff top, within Qingyaʼs land.”

Wen Su pushed the deed to the tableʼs edge, turning it so the writing faced both sides. She spoke, each word distinct, unhurried:

”Article four of the regulations: within the Hidden Realm, each keeps what each obtains. The gate counts heads only; it does not inspect and does not report. Article five: old items bearing another sectʼs name or mark belong to that sect. The gate lies within the northern boundary of Qingyaʼs land deed. On the day of opening, the seal strip was intact. Qingya: ten in, ten out. Jiang Wanʼs blood did not change the color of the water. Within the Hidden Realm, each keeps what each obtains; the gate does not inspect and does not report. What Qingya obtained belongs to Qingya. The petition is dismissed. Qingya will not be recorded.”

The hall went quiet.

Xiong Dai was the first to turn. He shoved through the crowd, walked out of the hall, and caught his foot on the threshold, but did not look back. Pang Ce followed him out. Lin Lian, Tan Shuo, Ke Wujiu, Qin Ruo, and Gan Ren exited one after another, none speaking. It was only in the courtyard that the sound of footsteps rose in a burst.

Wei Changge came last. He paused at the threshold, turned his body slightly, inclined his head to Xu Yan, and walked out.

Huo Qing stood near the back of the hall, and had not moved throughout. His left hand hung at his side, a foot from his sword hilt.

”Jiang Wan,” Cheng Banshan called from behind.

”Mm.”

”Your hand.”

Jiang Wan held out her right hand. Cheng Banshan pressed three fingers to her wrist, pressed twice, and released. ”Itʼs fine. Just a prick.”

”The bowl was clean water,” Jiang Wan said.

”I know it was clean water,” Cheng Banshan said. ”I was checking your pulse, not that bowl.”

Qian Duoduo pushed out from behind the others, glanced at the doorway, then at the bowl on the table. ”Where do we pour this water?”

”Pour it out,” Xu Yan said. ”Return the bowl to the Branch.”

By the Horse hour, the hall had emptied. The Eight Sectsʼ people had gone back to town; the Qingya group dispersed, and Qian Duoduo shooed A He and A Sui off to the kitchen. Only Wen Su, the two clerks, and Xu Yan remained.

The clerks laid out two sheets of paper, one end weighted with the paperweight, the other with the inkstone. Wen Su lifted the brush and wrote, line by line, down to the bottom of the first sheet. She set the brush down, let the ink dry a little, then filled the second. When she finished, she took a small bronze seal from the wooden box, pressed it once against the inkstone, then pressed it onto the end of both documents. She held it firm, lifted it, and inspected the print.

One copy she pushed to the tableʼs edge toward Xu Yan. The other she handed to the clerk at her side.

”Sect Master Xu, the judgment document. One copy for Qingya, one for the petitioner, Wanshou Mountain.”

Xu Yan stepped forward and received it with both hands, without folding it. He read it line by line, then held it against his chest.

”Rank Evaluator,” he said.

”Speak.”

”For Qingyaʼs autumn evaluation this year—can we apply for Seventh Rank?”

Wen Su was putting away her brush. She set it into the brush holder and looked up.

”Qingya was promoted to Eighth Rank on the third day of the third month, promotion without trial,” she said. ”A promotion without trial does not count against that yearʼs autumn application for further rank.”

Xu Yan gave a small nod and stood straight, waiting for her to finish.

”To rise further, before the thirtieth of the eighth month, the Sect Master himself must bring the paper roster and this promotion document to the Branch and file an application,” she said. ”On the ninth day of the ninth month, the Rank Evaluator comes to the mountain gate to assess.”

”How many conditions does Seventh Rank have?”

”Five.” Wen Su drew her hand from her sleeve and counted off her fingers. ”One: no fewer than ten registered disciples. Two: no fewer than two Foundation Establishment cultivators on the roster. Three: the Sect-Protecting Formation must be capable of being raised and held for a full shichen. Four: the Rank Silver paid in full. Five—”

She paused here, glancing at the freshly written judgment on the table, before continuing:

”The Branch has not recorded this sect during the year.”

Xu Yan still held his copy of the judgment. The ink of the seal had not quite dried; there was a faint dampness where it had pressed. He let this last condition turn over in his mind and said nothing.

Wen Su stoppered the water flask, picked it up, and walked toward the door. Midway across the hall, she stopped.

”Sect Master Xu, two of these five conditions you must calculate yourself,” she said. ”How many on the roster are at Foundation Establishment—you know better than I. Whether the great formation can hold for a full shichen—you must first test it yourself.”

”Noted,” Xu Yan said.

The two clerks gathered the box and the registers and followed her out. In the courtyard, Wen Su did not turn toward the Back Mountain; she went straight for the mountain gate. Nie Boʼs broom had swept its way to the gate. When he saw people coming, he stepped aside to the roadʼs edge, waited for her to pass, then resumed sweeping.

Xu Yan laid the judgment on the table and smoothed it flat with his palm. The land deed was still on the table, the four-boundaries column facing up, the last line lit by the sun. He folded the deed back along its old creases and tucked it into his robes, and took the ledger page separately in hand.

In the Monkey hour, the Rank Evaluator and her two clerks descended the mountain. Qi Qi stood at the mountain gate, watching until the figures rounded the first bend before turning back.

Back in the Accounts Room, Xu Yan first returned the ledger page to the top shelf, to its stack, vermilion mark facing outward. Then he unfolded the judgment, folded it in three, avoiding the Branchʼs seal, and slipped it into the account book, placing it with the land deed, with the document of the twenty-first day of the tenth month in Zongmeng Year 300, and with the one from the fourth day of the second month. His hand paused at the paperʼs edge, his finger resting on that final line.

There were still blank pages toward the back of the account book. He dipped the brush in ink and wrote down Wen Suʼs five conditions, one by one: no fewer than ten registered disciples; no fewer than two Foundation Establishment cultivators on the roster; the Sect-Protecting Formation capable of being raised and held for a full shichen; Rank Silver paid in full; the Branch has not recorded this sect during the year.

At the last item, the brush stopped. The very words at the end of todayʼs judgment were ”not recorded.”

He wrote the item out, blew on the ink, and closed the book.

Outside the window, Nie Boʼs broom had reached the front courtyard, stroke after stroke.