Chapter 452 — Unasked

CHAPTER 452

Unasked

“No blood in this tower,” Assessor Wen Lu said. “No weapons drawn, no voices raised past what a clerk can record, no food.”

On the Artificer Hall bench, Lin Langtian looked down at the sweet potato in his sleeve and frowned. He hadn't expected the hearing to forbid his breakfast.

The great ground hall of the Duanyang tower had been cleared and set with three long tables. The black board of Certified Alchemists hung on the far wall. Wen Lu sat at the head in her plain grey robe with the silver hem, a brush she never dipped lying across her record book. Her expression stayed neutral. The Pavilion was here to witness, not to take sides.

Martial Palace took the left table. Wei Chengyuan's chair stood empty at the centre of it. Elder Qu Jiang sat beside the empty chair, stroking his beard, and Envoy Fang Shu sat on the other side with the scroll case in front of him. Tuoba Hong stood behind them in crimson, publicly early Nascent Soul and looking it.

Artificer Hall took the right. Elder Tian Luo sat in front, and Shi Feng sat on his left with his hands folded over a stomach that was finally quiet. Sima Lan stood behind his shoulder with her slate. Zhu Liu stood behind hers, keeping the six-stone receipt carefully between both hands.

The middle table belonged to Hundred Flower Valley.

Valley Master Mu Shuyun sat in the centre in her deep green sash. On her left, Su Wanning was swinging one foot under the bench and being nudged to stop. On her right sat Ling Qingzhu, in her violet inner robe and white veil, with her back straight and her thumb pressed hard against her sleeve.

She hadn't looked at the Artificer Hall bench once. Shi Feng had noticed that, and he had also noticed the thumb.

Benches rose behind the tables in three tiers. Four hundred spectators had come. Near the top, a man in a grey robe sat with a wooden puppet on his knee and a ledger beside him, watching the hearing with poorly hidden interest.

“Read the charge,” Wen Lu ordered, opening the record book.

Fang Shu stood and read it again, with fewer sentences this time. Wei Renshan, branch head of Yunze. A man in his sixtieth year. A killing in the street, by a disciple who then fled. The Palace did not accuse the Hall of the act. It accused the Hall of sheltering the doer.

“I didn't flee,” Shi Feng said. “I went home.”

“Your home was a rented cart,” Qu Jiang said, stroking his beard.

“And it took me home,” Shi Feng replied. “That doesn't make it fleeing.”

A laugh went through the tiers. Wen Lu's brush stirred, and the laugh died.

“Does the accused dispute the killing?” Wen Lu asked.

“No,” Shi Feng said. “He tried to kill me, so I killed him. If the Palace wants the Yunze story, I'll give it with dates. Zhu Liu has them.”

“A boy's word,” Qu Jiang said. “I have eaten more salt than you have eaten rice, boy. A boy's word, against a man who is dead and cannot reply.”

“The dead can't reply to anything,” Shi Feng said. “It's why people like using them.”

Qu Jiang's hand stopped on his beard.

Valley Master Mu Shuyun rose.

She was an elegant woman, and she did not raise her voice. In the silent hall, that made it travel further.

“Hundred Flower Valley has done business with this disciple,” Mu Shuyun said. “He has done my Valley a service that I will not discuss in a public tower. The Valley has no quarrel with the Martial Palace. It also has no intention of standing aside while the Palace declares war on a sect over one young man's word. When the lips are gone, the teeth feel cold. In this matter, Hundred Flower Valley stands with Artificer Hall.”

The spectators broke into startled whispers. Nobody expected the Valley to openly oppose the Palace.

“The Valley stands with the Hall?”

“The Valley!”

“Master Mu said it out loud!”

“...”

Su Wanning clapped both hands over her mouth and squeaked through them.

“The Valley takes a side in a Palace quarrel,” Fang Shu said, with a thin smile. “Where is the evidence that the boy was attacked? Wei clan witnesses say the elder was unarmed.”

Fang Shu searched the room for someone willing to support him. “The Palace requests proof. Any proof. A sworn word from someone who was there.”

Nobody on the Hall's bench spoke.

Ling Qingzhu stood up.

She did it unhurried, with one hand flat on the table. The white veil stirred. Mu Shuyun turned her head and gave her a look that said clearly she had not been consulted. Ling Qingzhu did not turn back.

“If he says the man tried to kill him,” Ling Qingzhu said, “then the man tried to kill him.”

Her answer was simple and firm. Shi Feng was surprised. She hadn't been asked to speak, yet she'd stood up for him before the whole region.

“Big Sis!” Su Wanning hissed, in a whisper loud enough to be heard on the roof.

“Miss Ling,” Fang Shu said carefully, “with the greatest respect, that is not evidence.”

“It's the best evidence in the room,” Ling Qingzhu said. “He lies about eggs. He lies about prices. He has never once lied about who drew first.”

Her thumb pressed her sleeve. She sat down. She still did not look toward the Hall's bench.

Shi Feng looked at her for a moment. Then he looked at his folded hands.

“Noted,” Wen Lu said, and her brush moved at last. “The Sky Pavilion witnesses. It takes no side. It would also like the record to show that the Valley's first disciple spoke unasked.”

“Unasked,” Ling Qingzhu agreed, to the table.

Across the hall, Qu Jiang's face turned pale. He smoothed his beard with both hands and rose.

“Since the Valley has been generous with its character witnesses,” Qu Jiang said, “perhaps the Palace may speak to the character of the sect itself.”