Chapter 173 — Two Old Men in the Stands
CHAPTER 173
Two Old Men in the Stands
“You're sitting on my bag,” Li Changyuan said.
Nie Wufeng looked down at the shabby bundle beneath his elbow. A bent wooden wheel poked through one side.
“Then stop putting rubbish on seats,” Nie Wufeng replied.
He moved the bundle anyway. Li Changyuan sat beside him with a quiet grunt, then opened a packet of roasted beans.
The arena below was nearly empty. Workers repaired the marks left by the semi-finals while attendants checked the protective pillars for the final morning.
Neither old man watched the repairs with much interest.
For a while, they ate beans without speaking.
Then Nie Wufeng turned his head and examined his neighbour's plain robe.
“Still dressing like you lost your own luggage,” Nie Wufeng said.
“Still eating like the army owes you a meal,” Li Changyuan replied.
Nie Wufeng's hand stopped above the packet.
Both men looked at each other properly.
Then the spear master's expression changed into a broad, surprised grin.
“You old bastard,” Nie Wufeng said.
“You haven't become polite,” Li Changyuan replied.
“Not for you,” Nie Wufeng said.
They laughed quietly enough that the workers below didn't look up.
The laughter faded when Nie Wufeng looked toward the northern sky.
“I thought you stayed near the wall,” Nie Wufeng said.
“Which wall?” Li Changyuan asked.
“The Empire's northern one,” Nie Wufeng replied. “Don't pretend a fence outside Qingyun City took that scar.”
Li Changyuan pulled his sleeve lower across an old mark near the wrist.
“Walls stay where they're built,” Li Changyuan said. “People don't have to.”
Nie Wufeng considered that and nodded. He didn't ask for a full account of the intervening years, and his old acquaintance didn't offer one.
There were names neither wanted to say in a public stand.
“Your army still owes me a spear,” Nie Wufeng said.
“It wasn't my army,” Li Changyuan replied.
“You signed for the supplies,” Nie Wufeng said.
“You broke six spears in one week,” Li Changyuan replied. “I remember the complaint.”
“Bad spears,” Nie Wufeng said.
“Bad temper,” Li Changyuan answered.
Nie Wufeng laughed again.
Li Changyuan offered the beans. Nie Wufeng took another handful and looked down toward the platform.
“Your interest is the boy with the sword?” Nie Wufeng asked.
“He understands why things break,” Li Changyuan said.
“He'll have an interesting morning,” Nie Wufeng replied.
“So will your one-eyed fool,” Li Changyuan said.
Nie Wufeng looked pleased by the insult.
“He'd be offended if you called him cautious,” Nie Wufeng replied.
A betting-hall runner came up the aisle with a bundle of reserved slips, clearing the last spectators from the rows the hall had taken for the final. He reached their row, looked at Nie Wufeng, and stopped.
“Sit or move on,” Nie Wufeng said, and raised the bean packet.
The runner moved on, backwards, one step at a time, and only turned at the stair.
Li Changyuan watched him go and said nothing. By the final, the price on Gu Zhan had moved, and no clerk in the hall would name a reason.
Shi Feng entered the lower stand while Zhou Ke was checking the next morning's entrance route. He wanted to see the final platform's repaired edge before the crowd filled every passage.
Zhou Ke pointed at the newly marked corners.
“Same rules,” Zhou Ke said. “No changes because it's the final.”
“Good,” Shi Feng replied.
“Your opponent asked whether the officials would stop a long match,” Zhou Ke added.
“Did you answer?” Shi Feng asked.
“I said we'd stop it when someone lost,” Zhou Ke replied.
Shi Feng smiled.
He turned to leave and noticed Li Changyuan above the lower stair.
The shabby old man waved him over.
“Still buying broken tools?” Shi Feng asked as he approached.
“Someone has to keep them away from fools,” Li Changyuan replied.
Nie Wufeng looked between them with growing amusement.
“You know each other?” Nie Wufeng asked.
“He saw the crack in a puppet core,” Li Changyuan said.
“It wasn't hidden very well,” Shi Feng replied.
“The seller didn't see it,” Li Changyuan said.
“The seller didn't want to,” Shi Feng answered.
Nie Wufeng laughed and moved the bundle off the third seat. Shi Feng sat for a moment.
Nie Wufeng looked at the plain sword at Shi Feng's waist.
“Gu Zhan will ask you not to end it quickly,” Nie Wufeng said.
“He's already asked,” Shi Feng replied.
“Of course he has,” Nie Wufeng said.
“Should I ask him the same thing?” Shi Feng asked.
The spear master smiled.
“He won't enjoy losing,” Nie Wufeng said. “He'll enjoy finding out why.”
That sounded right. Shi Feng liked the distinction. Gu Zhan could want victory without treating every stronger opponent as an insult.
Li Changyuan passed him the packet of beans.
Shi Feng accepted a few. Ordinary roasted beans, still warm from whichever stall sold them. No mysterious medicine hid beneath the paper.
“Did you repair the core?” Shi Feng asked.
“No,” Li Changyuan replied. “I opened it.”
“To see the damage?” Shi Feng asked.
“To see what the damage showed me,” Li Changyuan said. “A working thing hides plenty of its maker's mistakes.”
Shi Feng nodded.
“Have you chosen a sect?” Li Changyuan asked.
“I'll answer when the offers come,” Shi Feng replied.
“That's sensible,” Li Changyuan said. “Listen carefully. Some people spend more effort naming what you'll receive than explaining what they'll expect.”
“I've met merchants,” Shi Feng replied.
Nie Wufeng nodded solemnly.
“Some of them sit on better chairs,” Nie Wufeng said.
Li Changyuan kicked his foot lightly. The spear master laughed and protected the beans from spilling.
Shi Feng stood when the workers began closing the lower passage. He returned the packet and nodded to both old men.
“Tomorrow,” Nie Wufeng said.
“Tomorrow,” Shi Feng replied.
He left them beneath the empty seats, still arguing over whether a broken wheel counted as useful luggage.
Only after his footsteps faded did Nie Wufeng turn toward Li Changyuan again.
“You're going to enjoy this,” Nie Wufeng said.
Li Changyuan looked down at the waiting platform.
“I already am,” Li Changyuan replied.