Chapter 437 — Whoever Breathes Loudly

CHAPTER 437

Whoever Breathes Loudly

Kang Liu had a cup of water on the counter before the inn door finished swinging.

“Water,” Kang Liu said. “No tea. I remember.”

Shi Feng picked it up. He recognised the cup's chipped rim from last year and drank standing.

“Twelve guests,” Kang Liu said, counting the heads that crowded his doorway. “I have nine rooms upstairs, and your sect master took one two days ago. He came in on a cabbage cart and went straight to the herb hall.”

“Nine,” Lin Langtian said, “if you count the roof.”

“I don't count the roof,” Kang Liu said.

“Everybody should,” Lin Langtian said. “It's the best room.”

Behind them, Zhu Liu was already writing the room assignments in his receipt book. Elder He Zhen had gone straight to the Pavilion to settle the permits, and the six students stood in a clump in the middle of the floor, looking nervously at the stairs to their rooms.

Shi Feng stepped back out to the street to get some air.

Across the quiet side street stood a narrow lodge with a red lacquer gate and a clenched-fist banner. A cat slept beside a noodle cart.

A guard stood at the gate in a crimson jacket. He stiffened at the sight of Shi Feng, covered his ring with his left hand and stepped back into the gatehouse. Then he closed half the door.

“Why did he do that?” Geng Xiaoyu asked from the inn doorway.

“Rule three,” Gongsun Ce said.

“Seventeen route changes, last time,” Sima Lan said, tapping her slate. “Now we have reached the closing of doors. It's progress.”

“I like it,” Fan Dacheng said happily. “They're scared of us!”

“They're scared of him,” Tao Shun whispered. “Be quiet.”

Shi Feng was about to go back inside when he saw the white carriages.

There were four of them at the far end of the street, each with petal pennants. A young woman in a violet inner robe and a green cloak had stepped down from the first. Her white veil was folded back over her hair. She said something to the girl beside her, who had been bouncing on her toes, and then she started across the street.

She walked straight toward him. People hurried out of her path.

“Ling Qingzhu,” Shi Feng said.

“Shi Feng,” Ling Qingzhu said. She stopped an arm's length away. Her thumb pressed hard against the edge of her sleeve. “I heard you invoice people for breathing near you now.”

He considered it.

“Only the ones who breathe loudly,” Shi Feng said.

Behind the inn door somebody choked. Lin Langtian, from the sound of it.

Ling Qingzhu's mouth twitched before she stopped it. She tilted her head and looked him over, slowly, from his boots to his hair, checking whether he'd recovered since their last meeting.

“Am I breathing loudly?” Ling Qingzhu asked.

“Not yet,” Shi Feng said.

“She practised that in the carriage!” Su Wanning cried, arriving breathlessly at her friend's elbow. “Three times! You said ‘breathing’ four different ways, Big Sis, and the fourth was the best!”

“Wanning,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“I'm only reporting!” Su Wanning protested, delighted to have caught her friend practising.

“Report quieter,” Ling Qingzhu said. “Or not at all.”

Su Wanning covered her mouth, still clearly delighted. Behind her, Bai Chenxi stood at a polite distance with her frost sword, studying the guard's gatehouse with open interest.

Ling Qingzhu turned back to him. She hadn't blushed, but her ears had gone pink.

“So you brought a cohort,” Ling Qingzhu said. “The garbage cohort. That's what the city calls them.”

“Don't call them that,” Shi Feng said.

“I didn't. The city did,” Ling Qingzhu replied, glancing at the six students. All six were pretending not to listen. “Six outer-court alchemists for a one Mark exam. The city says a newborn calf does not fear the tiger. People have said you're either very brave or very bored.”

“I'm very busy,” Shi Feng said.

“Mm,” Ling Qingzhu murmured, looking down at his right sleeve. “Your arm. Did it heal?”

“Mostly,” Shi Feng replied, letting her inspect the sleeve.

“I didn't ask for the details,” Ling Qingzhu said, annoyed by the incomplete answer.

“You asked,” Shi Feng reminded her.

“I asked whether,” Ling Qingzhu said. “If it hasn't healed, the Valley has a salve. I'm not offering. I'm only noting that it exists.”

“Noted,” Shi Feng said.

“Good,” Ling Qingzhu replied, stepping back. For a breath she seemed about to add something, and then she changed her mind. “Mu Shuyun leads our delegation. She's on her feet again. She'll want to see you at the opening auction.”

“I'll be there,” Shi Feng promised.

“Don't be late,” Ling Qingzhu said, and walked away, a little faster than she had come. Su Wanning trotted behind her, whispering so intensely that the whole street could hear.

“He said ‘not yet’! Did you hear it? ‘Not yet’! Big Sis, your ears—” Su Wanning whispered far too loudly.

“My ears are fine!” Ling Qingzhu snapped without slowing down.

Shi Feng watched the white carriages until he realized Sima Lan had stopped writing. She was watching him instead, chalk motionless.

“Don't,” Shi Feng said.

“I said nothing,” Sima Lan said. “I'm only counting.”

“Counting what?” Shi Feng asked suspiciously.

“How long you watched,” Sima Lan answered, tapping her unused chalk against the slate.

A Pavilion runner arrived with a large envelope before Shi Feng had to answer her. Zhu Liu took it, signed twice and read the first page on the spot.

“Senior Brother Shi,” Zhu Liu said. His voice went high. “The Assembly roster. You're on it.”

“I know,” Shi Feng said. “The invitations came three months ago.”

“Twice,” Zhu Liu said. “You're on it twice. The masters' showcase, sixth and last, age twenty. And the Refiner One Mark practical, third row.” He turned the page. “And a note at the bottom. ‘Candidate furnaces will be provided by the Pavilion.’”

Nobody spoke.

“The Pavilion provided your furnace last time too,” Gongsun Ce reminded him uneasily.

“It had a crack,” Shi Feng said.

“Check this one for wax,” Sima Lan said.