Chapter 393 — The Rising Dragon Register

CHAPTER 393

The Rising Dragon Register

“Move! Let me see!”

“I was here first!”

“Who stepped on my foot? Who stepped on my foot!”

The notice board outside the Duanyang tower had never held so many people. They packed the street from wall to wall, and Shi Feng got through the crowd mainly because it recognised him and moved away. This took a while. Everyone first had to say “Isn't that...” and then hop sideways.

Sima Lan walked half a step behind him with her slate. Zhu Liu came behind her, holding a basket of receipts above his head. In front of them, on the black board, hung a new scroll of Pavilion white. At its head, in gold ink, were the words RISING DRAGON REGISTER.

“Cultivators under twenty-five, below Nascent Soul,” Zhu Liu read aloud, standing on tiptoe. “The Sky Pavilion's regional list. Updated after the Ashen Lake Realm. It says...”

“I can read,” Sima Lan said. “Start at the top.”

“First,” Zhu Liu said. “Ling Qingzhu. Hundred Flower Valley. Golden Core, grade not recorded.”

A cheer went up. Ling Qingzhu's name had been on the Valley's own register for a year, and the street seemed pleased to see it confirmed.

“Second,” Zhu Liu said, and swallowed. “Shi Feng. Artificer Hall. Foundation grade: unknown. 2 Mark.”

The street fell silent. Then it exploded.

“Unknown?”

“What does unknown mean?”

“It means they can't grade it!”

“It means he refused the grading!”

“It means he's a liar and the Pavilion's too polite to say it!”

“It says 2 Mark. He's barely twenty. How does a boy get a 2 Mark?”

“Last spring he was a nobody. Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west!”

“...”

Shi Feng read the line once. It was a fair summary. He had expected to be fourth.

“Third,” Zhu Liu went on, faster, as the crowd got louder. “Gu Zhan, independent. Fourth, Duan Yichen, Martial Palace. Fifth, Yuan Kuang. Sixth, Bai Chenxi, Hundred Flower Valley.”

At the back of the crowd, two Martial Palace disciples read the fourth and fifth names, then the second. They covered their storage rings with their sleeves and left without a word. Two places in the top five were their own men's, and they still looked as if they'd been robbed.

“Seventh,” Zhu Liu said. “Gongsun Ce, Artificer Hall.”

“I am seventh,” Gongsun Ce announced behind them.

Gongsun Ce had arrived with his arms folded and his puppet under one elbow. He was smiling before he reached the board. He checked the names above his own, then the distance to the bottom of the scroll. He studied the name for a while, nodded, and took a thick book from his robe.

“Fourteenth,” Zhu Liu said. “Sima Lan, Artificer Hall outer court.”

“Fourteenth,” Sima Lan said.

She looked at the line. Her face did not change. But she stood a little straighter and moved her slate out of the way to read the line again. Shi Feng noticed the slight lift of her chin.

“Seven places below me,” Gongsun Ce said, “for an outer-court attendant.”

“Twelve below the champion,” Sima Lan said. “It's the order I intended.”

“You intended fourteenth?” Gongsun Ce asked. He looked from her calm face back to the list.

“I intended to be hard to price,” Sima Lan said.

Gongsun Ce did not understand this. He opened his book.

“Now, in the spirit of the occasion,” Gongsun Ce said. “Rank wagers, on next year's list. Lines open today. I will be above you, Shi Feng. Payable in the usual currency.”

Zhu Liu's head came up from the receipt basket.

“Senior Brother Shi,” Zhu Liu whispered. “What is the usual currency?”

“I'm still working on it,” Shi Feng said. “Accepted.”

Gongsun Ce wrote it down with great satisfaction.

“There's also a letter,” Zhu Liu said, remembering. “A Valley messenger waited at the stall. He said he would only give it to you.”

The messenger had a green sash and a folded square of pale paper. He bowed, handed it over, and left before anyone could ask him questions. The paper had been sealed with a daub of pink wax and a doodle of a rabbit.

Shi Feng opened it.

Shi Feng!!! Congratulations on being SECOND!!! I read it at the board and shouted so loud a man dropped his tea. Big Sis Qingzhu was sitting right next to me and she didn't say anything for a whole breath, which she never does. Then she said I should tell you this, and make my handwriting nice. I did not make my handwriting nice.

She said:

“Second suits you.”

Su Wanning

He read it twice.

“What does it say?” Gongsun Ce asked.

“Congratulations,” Shi Feng said.

“It's a long letter for ‘congratulations’,” Gongsun Ce said.

“The writer is generous,” Shi Feng said.

Sima Lan was looking at his hand. His thumb had settled on the violet string of his purse, pressing the knot flat. He moved it away.

“Reply?” Sima Lan asked.

“No,” Shi Feng said.

“You answered quickly,” Sima Lan said, watching him draw his hand away from the purse.

“I answered correctly,” Shi Feng said.

Sima Lan lowered her eyes and wrote a short line on her slate. Shi Feng did not lean over to read it, and she did not turn it toward him.

Behind them, the street was still arguing about the word unknown.