Chapter 312 — The Valley's Notice

CHAPTER 312

The Valley's Notice

The crowd in front of the Sky Pavilion board was so thick that Sima Lan stopped at its edge and held her ledger against her chest.

“Another auction?” Sima Lan asked.

“Not today,” Shi Feng said. “We're here for herbs.”

The Sky Pavilion’s nine-storey tower stood above Duanyang’s main market, grey stone beneath green tiles. Its board usually drew a passing glance for prices, permits, or lost property. Today people packed ten deep and pushed for a view. Shi Feng tried to pass along its edge.

Zhu Liu had stayed at the stall. Shi Feng had a list of six herbs and a sealed purse, and the Pavilion's herb counter was past the board. He turned sideways and started to squeeze through.

“It's confirmed,” a woman near the front said loudly. “It says it right there. The first fairy!”

“Formed her core?”

“Golden Core! At her age!”

Shi Feng's foot stopped.

He did not mean it to. His body simply did it, and a fat man in a silk vest collided with his back and apologised without turning around. Shi Feng stood where he was and looked over the crowd's heads.

The notice was large and printed on cream paper. A pale lotus was stamped above the first line.

Hundred Flower Valley announces with joy that Disciple Ling Qingzhu of the inner court has completed her tribulation and formed her Golden Core. The Valley thanks its friends for their good wishes. No gifts are required.

That was all. There was no grade, no count of lightning, no tale of the heavens. The Valley didn't share things like that. It simply posted the result and let the market tell the story.

The market was already telling it.

“Eighteen, was she?”

“Nineteen, you fool. Look at the date.”

“A month in closed door! Three bolts of lightning, I heard, and she walked out smiling!”

“Three? I heard five.”

“It's the Valley's first fairy. It'll be seven by tonight.”

“Compare her to the Hall's boy,” a thin scholar said. “The champion, the one from the cliff. Nine bolts, they say. And a blank jade.”

“Blank means failure, doesn't it?”

“Blank means Heaven grade,” someone said. “Hidden. That's what my cousin says.”

“Your cousin sells turnips.”

“Well, which is better? The first fairy with her three bolts, or the champion with his nine?”

“The champion is Artificer Hall. They'll be ploughing coal by next year. A flower that blooms for a single night.”

“The fairy is Valley. She'll be a core elder by thirty. A beauty is a calamity to the nation, as they say.”

“She's married already.”

“To who?”

“To… him, you idiot. The champion. Artificer Hall.”

“…”

A ripple went through the crowd. A few people turned and looked at the plain robe at the back, and then very quickly looked away.

Shi Feng read the notice once more from the first word to the last.

Completed her tribulation. Golden Core, after a month in closed-door cultivation. She hadn’t told him about it. He was learning the result from her sect’s public notice, surrounded by strangers arguing over the bolts.

Shi Feng accepted the good news quietly. She’d earned her Golden Core. He was glad she’d succeeded, but he didn’t want to celebrate her achievement with strangers gathered around a notice board.

He turned away and passed the herb counter. Its clerk called after him about the ginseng he’d requested. “Not today,” Shi Feng said, continuing toward the door.

On his belt, the violet purse string had come loose with the shoving. He stopped and tied it again. He pulled it tight, and tighter, until the knot sat flat and hard against his hip.

Beside him, Sima Lan had not said a word since the board.

Sima Lan followed with the ledger against her chest. At the doorway she paused behind his shoulder and looked toward the roof, giving him time to retie the purse. She deliberately kept her eyes off his hands.

“The list,” Sima Lan said at last. “Six herbs.”

“Next week,” Shi Feng said.

“The ginseng price will rise by the end of the month,” Sima Lan said.

“Then it rises,” Shi Feng said.

Sima Lan closed the ledger without recording the visit. Then, at the next corner, she turned them down the tanners' lane instead of the silk street. It added a quarter of an hour to the walk, and it avoided the Valley's shop with its white flower sign.

She didn't explain, and Shi Feng didn't ask.

At the gate of Thousand Forge Peak, Cui Hong stood with his arrival board hanging forgotten at his side.

“Three couriers today,” Cui Hong said. “Qingtong, Jinsha and Cuiping. Each one asked if the sect still exists. The Sect Master wants all the elders in the hall tomorrow.”

“Why tell me?” Shi Feng asked.

“Because Senior Brother Lin said to tell you,” Cui Hong said unhappily. “He said to keep your evening free. And not to ask what for.”