Chapter 249 — Guarding Against the Rock

CHAPTER 249

Guarding Against the Rock

Zhong Bo came to the rope square carrying an iron-shod staff as long as a doorframe.

He stopped five paces from the edge and spent a full breath looking at Shi Feng's hands. Both were empty. Then he looked at Shi Feng's sleeves, his belt and his boots.

“Where is it?” Zhong Bo asked.

“Where's what?” Shi Feng asked.

“The rock,” Zhong Bo said.

“At home,” Shi Feng said. “It holds down my papers.”

“Liar,” Zhong Bo said flatly.

The Hall side of the crowd, which was now much larger than it had been yesterday, laughed. Nobody was selling chestnuts anymore. They had turned to selling the best seats on the roofs of nearby stalls, at a copper each.

Zhong Bo was at late Foundation Establishment, and he’d spent the night studying Jia Tong’s loss. His staff was wrapped in three layers of ironwood and bound with wire. He meant to keep his distance, strike any weapon Shi Feng drew, and never let the grey ingot touch the staff.

He'd also left a ring on the stool.

“Deposit,” Warden Gui said.

Zhu Liu opened it and read quietly. “Item one, a spirit stone. Item two, a note.” He stopped. “The note says, 'Nice try,'” Zhu Liu said.

The crowd on the Palace side roared. Zhong Bo smirked.

“You'll find the rest in my room,” Zhong Bo said. “A clever rabbit has three burrows. I'm not a fool.”

“I see,” Shi Feng said.

Sima Lan stood beside the stool with her ledger. She did not smile. She drew a thin line in her book and wrote a figure beside it, and Shi Feng knew exactly what the figure was.

“Rule three,” Sima Lan said, “says the deposit is held against damage. It doesn't say what happens to a deposit that insults the one holding it.”

“Is there a clause?” Zhu Liu asked.

“There will be,” Sima Lan said.

Shi Feng took the plain iron sword from Zhu Liu's other arm, the one He Zhen's armoury had lent him for four stones, since his knife was too short for a staff. He pulled it halfway out and slid it home again.

“Begin!” Warden Gui said.

The staff came straight at his face.

Shi Feng sidestepped. The ironwood passed his ear with a hiss, and the wind of it moved his hair. Zhong Bo drove the butt around, then the head, then the butt again, a wheel of striking wood that would have broken a wall. He kept the distance exactly. Every time Shi Feng's blade came close, the staff was already there to knock it aside.

The crowd began to whisper.

“He's keeping out of range.”

“He's afraid of the rock!”

“Smart. Very smart! Know yourself and know your enemy, and you win a hundred battles!”

“Hall's champion can't touch him!”

“…”

Shi Feng let the staff strike his sword. The jar ran up his wrist, and the Ledger quietly swallowed the extra force.

[Devoured: ironwood staff x7 | Gain: small | Note: heavy, honest]

Shi Feng thought, A man who guards against one trick isn't guarding against the rest.

Shi Feng changed the angle of his sword. Xu Changhe’s notes had taught him not to meet a heavy weapon head-on. He followed the staff’s movement, keeping his blade close enough to reach the hands that controlled it.

Zhong Bo swung high. Shi Feng let the sword slide along the staff instead of stopping it. The point passed the wire wrapping, reached the grip, and settled against Zhong Bo’s knuckles in one continuous movement.

Zhong Bo felt the edge at the back of his hand and let go.

The staff fell. Shi Feng's pommel tapped the big man's shoulder, once, politely. The sword tip hung a finger's width from Zhong Bo's throat.

“Concede?” Shi Feng asked.

“That's not the rock,” Zhong Bo said hoarsely.

“No,” Shi Feng said.

“You said you left it at home!” Zhong Bo said.

“The rock is at home,” Shi Feng said. “I still brought a sword. You’ve spent this whole fight watching for the wrong weapon.”

The Hall side howled.

“He has a sword!”

“A pill seller with a sword!”

“What kind of art was that? It flowed!”

“Did you see his wrist? He didn't even push!”

Zhong Bo looked at the staff in the dust. Then he looked at Warden Gui, who was suddenly studying his clipboard with great concentration.

“I concede,” Zhong Bo said.

“Thank you,” Shi Feng said. “Your real deposit is in your room, I believe. Zhu Liu will send a runner.”

“To the Palace? That's an hour each way!” Zhong Bo said.

“Then the runner's wage will be added,” Sima Lan said. “And a charge for the note.”

Zhong Bo's mouth worked, but nothing came out. Two Palace disciples took him by the elbows and led him into the crowd. Behind them, Zhu Liu's brush moved over a new page headed Arm Fund.

“Jia Tong, forty-two stones. Zhong Bo, one stone and a rude note,” Zhu Liu said. “Forty-three.”

“And the note,” Sima Lan said, “is rude. Five stones.”

“Forty-eight!” Zhu Liu said.

Shi Feng sat down on the warden's stool to wipe the sword. He hadn't even broken a sweat. The Palace crowd was drifting away in small groups, whispering. For the first time that week nobody was laughing.

A shadow fell across the ring.

“Not tomorrow,” Shen Kui said.

Shen Kui stepped over the rope before the warden could call him. His sleeves were rolled up and his face was red with anger. The Palace disciples stopped talking. He planted his feet and stared directly at the champion.

“Rule three,” Shen Kui said. “I'm not waiting for tomorrow. I want the champion's real ring on that stool.”