Chapter 38 — The First Fairy

CHAPTER 38

The First Fairy

At the far side of the square, the crowd changed.

Men stepped out of a carriage’s path and forgot to step back. A fan stopped halfway open. A seller kept calling out his price after his customer turned away, then forgot the end of it himself.

“It’s the Ling household carriage!”

“Don’t push. I was here first.”

“Fairy Ling comes on the tenth day of every month, I told you.”

“…”

A young woman stepped down from the carriage. Her long black hair fell over robes of pale violet and white. A white silk veil covered her face below her clear eyes.

The cloth hid her nose and lips completely. It did nothing to hide her graceful figure, full curves and slender waist. Her exposed hands were white as fine jade.

She tucked a loose strand behind her ear, and several young men forgot to breathe.

Half the square stared even though they couldn’t see her whole face.

Shi Feng was startled. He’d heard men compare beautiful women to descending immortals, and he’d always assumed they had never seen an immortal. Looking at her, he found he didn’t want to argue.

“Fairy Ling Qingzhu,” Fan Jun said, forgetting to lower his voice.

For once the scholar was useful. Lin Shuang’s carter on the road hadn’t been exaggerating. This was the first fairy of Great Liang, ranked above even the royal princess, and beauty like hers could stun a whole street.

Shi Feng thought: why is she first? Because she deserves it, or because the kingdom has no higher number to give?

The longer he looked, the better the question seemed. And she hadn’t even removed the veil!

Then a cart rattled up behind him, and he stepped clear of its wheel. Beauty was no reason to get run over.

Ling Qingzhu took a small parcel from her driver and turned toward Sky Pavilion. A young man near the steps hurriedly straightened his collar. Another pretended he was studying the stonework. She didn't glance at either of them.

Shi Feng put the price list in his sleeve. Pretty, he thought, but I can’t eat pretty. He’d seen the tower and the kingdom’s first fairy, and neither one made bone medicine cheaper. He started back toward Qingliu Lane.

The young man on the steps advanced with a folded poem in both hands. Kou Zhi had reached Qi Condensation and wore a fine sword at his waist. He looked as though every word of his greeting had been practiced in front of a mirror.

“Fairy Ling, this humble Kou Zhi composed a few lines—” Kou Zhi said.

A porter carrying a long crate squeezed past. The crate caught the poem and folded it across Kou Zhi's wrist. His greeting ended in a sharp squeak.

Ling Qingzhu stepped aside before the crate reached her sleeve.

“Be careful on the steps,” Ling Qingzhu said.

Kou Zhi stared at her. Then he stared at the crushed poem. By the time he decided which mattered more, she was already beyond him. His friends congratulated him on being spoken to, making the loss of his poem worse.

Shi Feng almost laughed. The kingdom's first fairy hadn't cast a single technique, yet men were losing their ability to walk around boxes.

A girl carrying a smaller parcel followed Ling Qingzhu from the carriage. Hongxiu kept a sensible distance from the poem's disappointed owner. She asked the driver to wait beside the awning and hurried toward the tower.

Ling Qingzhu stopped at the entrance to exchange a receipt. Her veil stayed in place even when the woman behind the desk leaned forward to speak with her. The crowd could admire her eyes, her hair and her bearing. Nothing in her manner promised it more.

Shi Feng looked away before he became another man waiting for a glimpse. He'd already spent more time watching her than he'd intended.

That annoyed him a little. His private cultivation could frighten a Foundation Establishment elder, but a strand of black hair tucked behind an ear had made him forget his sesame cake.

He finished the cake.

Near the fountain, Fan Jun closed his register without looking at Sima Lan's portrait again. His companion noticed and began laughing. The scholar refused to explain. A moment ago he had been defending royal bearing. Now his own bearing was struggling with a mouth that wouldn't close.

Shi Feng put his medicine receipt safely inside his robe. He checked that the little bottle hadn't knocked against his belt knife, then adjusted his pack. The room in Qingliu Lane was waiting, and Jiang Meilan had told him which stall sold decent greens.

Kou Zhi noticed Shi Feng's amusement and found someone safe to blame.

“A cripple should watch his own feet,” Kou Zhi said. “What are you laughing at?”

“Your friends congratulated you,” Shi Feng said. “I thought this was a happy occasion.”

Kou Zhi's friends stopped smiling. He could draw his sword over a poem, but the crate's owner was still watching from the steps. His hand stayed on the hilt without doing anything useful.

Shi Feng adjusted his pack and turned away. One ruined greeting was enough entertainment for a morning.

Hongxiu caught sight of his face and leaned toward her mistress.

“Young Mistress, isn't that the Qingshi youth from the royal review—” Hongxiu began.

“Hongxiu, lower your voice,” Ling Qingzhu said.

The maid immediately closed her mouth. Ling Qingzhu had heard the mockery and the calm reply. His circumstances had changed greatly. That composure had survived.

Ling Qingzhu's eyes moved toward him.

Shi Feng didn't know her, but he knew the expression of someone comparing a person with a story. The supposed cripple was standing straight, carrying a sword, and buying his own medicine. Those things always surprised people more than they should.

He wasn't about to explain his meridians in the middle of Sky Pavilion square.

Ling Qingzhu handed her parcel to Hongxiu and came down the steps. The people between them moved before she asked. Kou Zhi opened his mouth, saw where she was looking, and shut it again.

“You're Shi Feng, aren't you?” Ling Qingzhu asked.

Shi Feng stopped.

“That's my name,” Shi Feng said.

Up close, her eyes were clearer than he'd expected. A silver clasp held the pale fabric at her collar, and her black hair fell over one shoulder. He noticed all of that before reminding himself she had asked a question, not announced an exhibition.

Behind her, several admirers had gone completely still.

“She knows him?”

“The Shi clan's cripple?”

“How did he manage that?”

Shi Feng ignored them. Ling Qingzhu examined his face for a brief moment, then glanced toward the crowd. She could hardly discuss anything here without it reaching three teahouses before noon.

“May we speak somewhere quieter?” Ling Qingzhu asked.

Shi Feng looked at the tower, then at the waiting carriage. A woman arriving in that carriage probably didn't need to borrow his spirit stones.

That left many other possibilities, and not all were pleasant.

“About what?” Shi Feng asked.

“A proposal,” Ling Qingzhu said.

Kou Zhi dropped his ruined poem.

Ling Qingzhu heard the little sound and closed her eyes for a moment. Shi Feng looked past her, saw the man's face, and finally laughed.

“Somewhere quieter sounds sensible,” Shi Feng said.