Chapter 16 — A Sect’s Good Manners

CHAPTER 16

A Sect’s Good Manners

“Make way for White Crane Pavilion!” Fang Ze shouted from the front of the caravan.

People hurried toward the sides of the street. Three wagons rolled beneath the gate, followed by six young disciples in white robes. A gray-haired elder rode upon a narrow flying sword above the mud.

Shi Feng stopped beside the food stalls and watched the sword pass.

A refined artifact.

The elder was in Foundation Establishment. A cultivator below that realm couldn't properly activate such a weapon, no matter how expensive the metal was. Shi Feng wanted one.

Tang Jiu appeared beside him carrying a bundle of maps.

“Recruitment stop,” Tang Jiu said. “Good business for tailors. Every fool will want a robe that looks like theirs by tomorrow.”

“Are they recruiting townspeople?” Shi Feng asked.

“Anyone with working meridians and the talent they want,” Tang Jiu replied. “The rest can buy my maps and try the next town.”

Shi Feng looked at the elder's sword again.

“Are the Great Sects recruiting here as well?” Shi Feng asked.

Tang Jiu nearly dropped the maps.

“Here? Martial Palace and Hundred Flower Valley don't stop in little gathering towns!” Tang Jiu said. “Only lesser sects want our hunters. Don't call White Crane Pavilion a Great Sect. Its disciples will be so pleased they won't leave!”

“And Artificer Hall?” Shi Feng asked.

“Not them either,” Tang Jiu said. “Their elders don't bother with a little gathering town. White Crane Pavilion recruits across our border. It's enough to make our hunters bow.”

Lu Qingxue stepped down from the second wagon beside Mu Yong. Shi Feng recognized her, then returned to reading the banner. Her presence didn't change his plans.

The caravan halted beside the square. Servants unfolded a table beneath a white banner. People began lining up before the chairs were down.

Gu Fan, eighteen, pushed ahead, then hurried back when the elder looked at him. His mother, Wu Chun, argued for a place near the front.

Shi Feng joined the people reading the notice beside the table. Gu Fan reached the testing stone first. Mu Yong placed a hand on his back, and pale lines appeared across the stone.

“One hundred and thirty-nine,” Mu Yong announced. “Your age?”

“Eighteen, Elder!” Gu Fan replied eagerly.

“Eighteen by counting from his birth year!” Wu Chun shouted.

Gu Fan reddened.

“My birthday’s passed,” Gu Fan said. “Mother, I told you!”

Mu Yong held out his hand for the household record.

“Your bones won’t grow faster because your mother shouts,” Mu Yong said. “Let me read it.”

The elder’s pressure quieted even Tang Jiu.

“You can take the outer disciple examination,” Mu Yong said. “That doesn't mean you've passed. Stand beside the second wagon.”

The youth bowed three times before hurrying away. His father immediately began asking a disciple about travel expenses. His mother started crying, then shouted at him to straighten his robe.

Shi Feng watched without envy. He wasn't going to reveal his restored meridians just to wear a white robe and carry somebody else's basin.

Ke Kang came up the line holding his household record flat in both hands, the porter who had told the square that Shi Feng's arms were better than his. He had a grown man's shoulders, and the record said eighteen. Mu Yong turned the sheet over, read the copy date, and sent him back at the age line.

Ke Kang asked to be read again. He set both palms on the testing stone and pressed his shoulders into it; the pale lines spread, and Mu Yong read one hundred and eighty-four where the first reading had been one hundred and eighty. Shi Feng, at the notice board, said, “Stop pressing with your shoulders. Four more meridians won't change the year on that paper.” Ke Kang took his hands off the stone and stepped out of the line.

Fang Ze came down the steps with a copper basin. His spotless sleeves dragged across its rim. He was in Qi Condensation, and his expression said carrying water was beneath him.

Then he saw Shi Feng's collar.

“Shi clan?” Fang Ze asked.

“Yes,” Shi Feng replied.

“Shi Feng?” Fang Ze asked, smiling now.

Shi Feng didn't answer twice.

Fang Ze turned toward the table.

“Elder Mu Yong, the fallen genius has come to apply!” Fang Ze called.

Beside the registration table, Lu Qingxue looked up sharply from a stack of wooden candidate slips. The crowd stirred. Mu Yong glanced up from the register, then ran one finger down a page.

“Shi Feng. Qingshi Town. Meridians ruined,” Mu Yong said. “You can't enter with that condition. Go home.”

“I came to read the notice,” Shi Feng said.

Mu Yong was already looking at the next name. Beside him, Lu Qingxue parted her lips as if to speak, her fingers tightening around the slips, before remembering the banner over her head. Shi Feng didn't look toward her. The registry was old, and he intended to keep his actual cultivation private.

He stepped away from the notice.

Fang Ze glanced toward Lu Qingxue as if expecting her to appreciate the display, then held out the copper basin to block Shi Feng’s path.

“Carry this to the horses,” Fang Ze said. “You can't become a disciple, but you can still learn useful work.”

A few people laughed nervously. At the table, Lu Qingxue took half a step forward, her brows drawing together. “Senior Brother Fang—” Lu Qingxue said.

Fang Ze ignored her.

“Your horses don’t belong to me,” Shi Feng said.

“Neither does this street!” Fang Ze snapped. “Move when a sect disciple speaks!”

He shoved the basin hard against Shi Feng's chest.

Shi Feng caught its rim. Water sloshed to the lip without spilling a single drop onto his boots. He looked calmly at the disciple's hands.

“You're still holding it,” Shi Feng said.

“Then take it!” Fang Ze barked, driving his Qi Condensation weight into the push.

Shi Feng yielded half an inch, angled the copper rim with two fingers, and stepped cleanly off the line. Fang Ze's own force carried him into empty air. His robe caught beneath the tilting basin, and the heavy rim struck both his knees.

Splash!

Fang Ze pitched headfirst into the muddy horse water with the copper basin overturned upon his head.

For a breath, the entire square froze. Beside the banner, Lu Qingxue stared at Shi Feng’s boots—not a fleck of mud had touched his hem, and his shoulders hadn’t even shifted when a Qi Condensation disciple drove into him.

Then a roar of laughter burst from the back of the crowd.

“He washed himself!”

“That basin was for the horses!”

“Look at the Shi boy’s feet—he didn’t even move and the sect disciple went swimming!”

Fang Ze hurled the dented basin aside. Mud plastered one cheek, and his white Pavilion sleeves were brown to the elbow.

“You!” Fang Ze shouted, snatching at his sword hilt.

“Fang Ze!” Mu Yong’s voice cracked across the square.

The disciple froze with his thumb on the guard. Mu Yong wasn’t looking at Fang Ze alone; his narrowed eyes lingered on Shi Feng’s calm stance and dry boots before turning coldly back to his disgraced junior.

“Stand up,” Mu Yong ordered. “You shove an uninvolved passerby, miss your own footing, and reach for a blade in front of the whole town?”

“Elder, he tripped me!” Fang Ze protested, his face burning as the candidates in line backed away from his dripping hem.

“Then stop presenting your knees to a man who didn’t even lift his hand,” Mu Yong said icily. “Go wash yourself by the wagons and stay out of the square until the bell rings.”

Fang Ze had to pick up the muddy copper basin himself and walk the length of the candidate line while townspeople openly pointed at his dripping hair. When Shi Feng turned to leave, the hunters and shopkeepers who had snickered a moment ago parted at once to give him the dry middle of the street.

At the next stall, Shi Feng bought a sheet showing the hills west of Yunze Town.

Tang Jiu found him before he left the square.

“Did you push Fang Ze?” Tang Jiu asked eagerly.

“Did you see me?” Shi Feng replied.

“I heard three versions already,” Tang Jiu said. “One says you threw him over a wagon.”

“Sell that one,” Shi Feng said. “It sounds more expensive.”

Tang Jiu grinned, then held out a map with red circles around several hills.

“Special hunting locations,” Tang Jiu said. “Cheap, since we're old acquaintances.”

Shi Feng unrolled the sheet he'd just bought. The same circles appeared in the same places.

Tang Jiu slowly lowered his copy.

“Good judgment,” Tang Jiu said. “You chose the right seller.”

Shi Feng left him to find somebody with worse judgment.

Beyond the square, the road rose toward the western hills. A hunter passing through town had mentioned a Green-Eyed Rock Fox den there. Its hide would sell well, and he needed more resources for Qi Condensation.

A beast would at least show its teeth before attacking.