Chapter 289 — The Complaint

CHAPTER 289

The Complaint

“'Item one,'” Li Changyuan read. “'On the third day of the month, an armed party of Artificer Hall disciples did unlawfully set up a toll on the Ironwood Bridge.'”

The dining hall was silent. Forty disciples sat over their rice with their chopsticks frozen in the air. At the head table, Tian Luo had stopped with a pickle halfway to his mouth, and He Zhen was looking at the ceiling very carefully.

Li Changyuan sat at the end of the long bench in his patched robe, holding a letter at arm's length. He read it in the voice of a man reading a market list.

Li Changyuan read: “'Item two. The said toll was levied under a forged sect seal.'” He paused. “Qian Mo.”

Elder Qian Mo sat up so quickly that his abacus slid off his knee. “Sect Master?”

“Is your seal forged?” Li Changyuan said.

“It's… it's in my drawer, Sect Master. It's in my locked drawer. I checked it this morning…” Qian Mo stopped, because the colour had started to leave his face. “I checked it this morning. It was a little warm.”

“Hm,” Li Changyuan said. “'Item three. A false certificate of inspection was issued by one Shi Feng, claiming the bridge to be unsafe.'”

Every head in the room turned toward the end of the hall.

Shi Feng kept eating while everyone looked at him. Answering before the sect master finished would only give the hall another reason to stare. He put down his bowl when Li Changyuan reached the demands.

“'Item four,'” Li Changyuan went on, “'the convoy was thereby forced to surrender one third of its cargo, being Thunder-Marrow ore of the first quality, valued at…'” He squinted. “Valued at a very large number.”

“How large?” Qian Mo asked faintly.

“Nine thousand stones,” Li Changyuan said.

Qian Mo's abacus, which he had managed to catch halfway down, hit the floor again.

“Nine thousand,” Qian Mo whispered. “And it's ours?”

“'Wherefore,'” Li Changyuan read, “'Martial Palace demands the return of the stolen ore, an apology to be delivered in person by the said Shi Feng, and the sum of two thousand stones in compensation.'” He lowered the letter. “Signed, the Outer Affairs Hall of Martial Palace.”

Nobody breathed.

“Sect Master,” Tian Luo said carefully. “Think three times before acting. We should consider our reply.”

“I’ve considered it,” Li Changyuan said. He turned over the complaint and wrote his reply on the back. The whole hall watched his brush. He checked the last line, then raised the paper to read it aloud.

“'To the Outer Affairs Hall. Your letter is received with thanks. The Ironwood Bridge was inspected and found unsafe. Artificer Hall regrets that your convoy was endangered, and recommends that no further wagons of that weight attempt the crossing. The ore was left for safekeeping. Respectfully.',” Li Changyuan said.

“'For safekeeping,'” He Zhen repeated softly.

“It's very safe,” Li Changyuan said. “We have a locked drawer.”

A laugh started somewhere at the back of the hall. A girl tried to swallow it, choked, and had to be thumped on the back. The laughter spread down the benches until even Tian Luo covered his mouth with his sleeve.

“He lied to a Martial Palace captain's face!” someone whispered. “Pulling teeth from a tiger's mouth!”

“And the captain paid!”

“It was only a plank!”

“It was a certificate!”

“…”

Li Changyuan folded the reply and set it by his bowl. Then he turned his head and fixed his eyes on Shi Feng for the first time that evening.

“Inspector Shi,” Li Changyuan said.

Shi Feng set down his chopsticks. “Sect Master.”

“Inspection is skilled work. Skilled work is paid.” Li Changyuan reached under the table and lifted out a dark lump about the size of a fist. Blue light crawled along its seams. He set it on the table with a clunk. “One bridge inspector's fee. Take it.”

The hall went quiet again.

Qian Mo made a sound like a kettle.

“Sect Master, that's a fist of Thunder-Marrow!” Qian Mo said. “That's… it was in the safekeeping!”

“This is the fee. The ore is in the drawer. These are different ledgers,” Li Changyuan said calmly. “The sect doesn't give ore away, Qian Mo. The sect pays its inspectors.”

“But it's the same ore!” Qian Mo said.

“Then it's a very honest ledger,” Li Changyuan said.

Shi Feng looked at the fist-sized lump. It was only a tenth of what he needed, but it was Thunder-Marrow. The old man had refused to discuss the shopping list and still remembered exactly what was on it.

“Thank you, Sect Master,” Shi Feng said.

“Don't thank me. Sign.” Li Changyuan pushed a slip across the table.

Zhu Liu, at the next bench, was already holding out a brush.

The sign-off took longer than the supper. By the time Shi Feng walked out into the cold yard, the sky had gone navy, and a ring of outer-court disciples was waiting on the steps with their bowls in their hands. Lin Langtian stood in the middle of them on an upturned bucket.

“Listen well!” Lin Langtian announced from the bucket. “Today my junior brother told a captain such a magnificent lie that it came with a stamped certificate. I’ve taught many juniors. Do you know what I thought of this one?”

“What?” someone asked.

“I thought: he lied almost as well as a beginner!” Lin Langtian said.

The yard roared.

“Almost!” Lin Langtian declared. “It's a beginning! Keep at it, Junior Brother, and in three years you'll be able to lie to a mirror!”

“Thank you, Senior Brother,” Shi Feng said.

“Don't thank me. Practise!” Lin Langtian said.

Shi Feng carried the Thunder-Marrow lump back across the yard and into his hut. He set it on the table next to the Slag Weight. The ore hummed softly, like a swarm of bees locked in a jar.

He thought, A fist is not enough. But a fist would make a needle.

And a needle could keep him alive for the first bolt.