Chapter 461 — The Valley Bids

CHAPTER 461

The Valley Bids

On the second morning, the green box in the gallery was no longer empty.

Shi Feng noticed it when the hall noticed it. Six hundred heads turned together, then turned away, then turned back to check. A woman in a violet inner robe sat in the front seat with a white veil tied across her face and a jade bidding plate on her knee. Beside her, Su Wanning was whispering into her ear so fast that nobody could have understood a word.

Ling Qingzhu did not look down at the third row. She looked at the dais.

“The first fairy,” somebody breathed.

“The Valley has come for the Hall's lots!”

“She's backing him in public! A toad lusting after swan meat, and the swan flew down to him! Is it true that she's his wife?”

“Hush, you fool, the Pavilion's watching!”

“…”

“She took a seat facing the crimson box,” Sima Lan said, tapping her slate. “Not beside it.”

“I saw,” Shi Feng said.

Sang Ping raised the white jade hammer, and the hall quieted. Wen Lu, in her grey robe, looked up from her dry brush.

“Day two,” Sang Ping said. “Lot thirty-nine. A set of six Mending Spring Pills, Nascent Soul-grade, battle-healing, consigned by Shi Feng of Artificer Hall, 2 Mark, five clouds on the sample. Opening at four thousand.”

A ripple went through the benches. Every Golden Core cultivator in the hall had at some point bled in a fight, and every one of them knew what a Nascent Soul-grade healing pill cost on the open market. The honest answer was nobody sold them. They were passed down like swords.

A stout merchant near the front bid four thousand five hundred. An old man in a patched robe immediately raised it to five thousand.

“Six thousand,” Ling Qingzhu bid.

She raised her plate without hurry. Her cool, clear voice carried across the hall. Even while bidding, she kept the proud bearing of Great Liang's first fairy. The merchant lowered his plate. The old hermit sighed and put his away.

In the crimson box, Qiao Wenyan stood up so quickly that his fan fell.

“The Valley!” Qiao Wenyan cried. “The Valley's buying his pills, in front of everyone! They're arming the Hall's front line! Father's friends said this would happen!”

“Young master,” Qiao Shou murmured.

“Don't let her have them!” Qiao Wenyan hissed. “Deny them!”

Treasurer Peng Yan's beads clicked once, then twice. Thirty-two thousand stones had come in yesterday, and six little pills were a cheap price for stopping the Valley from feeding the Hall's war. He nodded to Qiao Shou.

“Six thousand five hundred,” Qiao Shou said, and the crimson box raised its plate.

Heads swung back toward the green box. The hall hadn't been this entertained in a decade.

“Seven thousand,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“Seven thousand five hundred,” Qiao Shou said.

“Eight thousand,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“Eight thousand five hundred!” Qiao Wenyan shouted, before the treasurer could stop him.

Beside Ling Qingzhu, Su Wanning had stopped whispering. She was clutching the armrest.

“Big Sis,” Su Wanning said, in a voice that carried quite well. “That's the Valley's whole… That's the allowance Master Mu gave you…”

“I know what it is,” Ling Qingzhu said.

Shi Feng stayed still. He hadn't sent Ling Qingzhu a letter or asked for help. He only listed the pills. She'd come herself and openly used the Valley's money to support him.

Sima Lan watched the green box carefully. Ling Qingzhu was calm, but her hand gave her away.

“Look at her thumb,” Sima Lan said quietly.

On the gallery rail, Ling Qingzhu's thumb was pressed hard against the edge of her plate. It was her old tell. Shi Feng knew the sight of it better than he wished.

“Nine thousand,” Ling Qingzhu said.

A long silence fell. Six hundred spectators waited to see whether the Palace would raise the price again.

“Nine thousand six hundred,” Qiao Shou said, with a strained smile.

The green box stayed quiet.

Ling Qingzhu's hand slowly lowered the plate to her lap. Su Wanning looked at her, and then at the dais, and then at her again, as if waiting for something dramatic to happen. Nothing did. The first fairy of Great Liang simply folded her hands, sat back and looked at the Pavilion's ceiling.

“Nine thousand six hundred, going once,” Sang Ping said. “Going twice. Sold, to the crimson box.”

The hammer fell.

“She stopped,” somebody whispered.

“Exactly at nine thousand!”

“Did you see her face?”

“I didn't see it! There's a veil!”

“She did that on purpose!”

“…”

The crimson box was cheering. Qiao Wenyan was waving his fan like a banner. Peng Yan sagged into his seat and wiped his forehead. Nine thousand six hundred stones was a lot to spend on a denial, but the Valley had been shown its place, and he was sure the Palace would thank him.

“Nine thousand,” Sima Lan said. “Exactly. Not eight thousand nine hundred and ninety.”

“Yes,” Shi Feng said.

“She won't spend beyond her allowance just to fight with them,” Sima Lan said approvingly.

“She knows where to stop,” Shi Feng replied.

“I don't object,” Sima Lan said, and wrote something on the slate. Shi Feng didn't look at it.

The hall took a short recess, and wardens in white walked the aisles with tea trays. The green box was empty again. Then Shi Feng saw a violet hem at the end of his row.

Ling Qingzhu stood in the aisle with Su Wanning half a pace behind her. She had crossed the whole hall in front of everyone, and six hundred people were watching her do it.

“Master Mu gave me nine thousand,” Ling Qingzhu said. “I spent nine thousand.”

“You stopped at the right place,” Shi Feng said.

“I stopped where the money stopped,” Ling Qingzhu said. “Don't make it more than that.”

“I won't,” Shi Feng said.

“Good,” Ling Qingzhu said, pressing her thumb to her sleeve. “Was that what you wanted?”

“I wanted the pills sold,” Shi Feng said.

“That's not an answer,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“It's what I wanted from the auction,” Shi Feng replied calmly.

Ling Qingzhu nearly laughed, then held it back behind her veil. She was pleased, but refused to show too much in front of everyone. Su Wanning squealed and covered her mouth.

“The Palace paid nine thousand six hundred to keep my hands off your pills,” Ling Qingzhu said. “Somebody ought to thank me for that.”

“Somebody will,” Shi Feng said.

Ling Qingzhu turned and went back across the hall, with Su Wanning half-running to catch up. The benches parted in front of her.

Sima Lan waited until she was gone.

“Eight thousand six hundred and forty,” Sima Lan said, tapping the slate. “After the Pavilion's tenth. For six pills.”

“And the last lot?” Shi Feng asked.

“A quarter of an hour,” Sima Lan said. “The hat is in position. So is the second one.”

“Is he nervous?” Shi Feng asked.

“He's a hunter,” Sima Lan said. “He's thrilled.”