Chapter 466 — Outside the Contract

CHAPTER 466

Outside the Contract

“Eleven rings from the left row, twenty from the right, one from the captain,” Sima Lan said into her pillow. “That is thirty-two. You said thirty.”

“Zhu Liu counted the captain's twice,” Shi Feng said.

“Zhu Liu counted the captain's twice,” Sima Lan repeated, with deep sorrow. “And you let him write it down.”

She lay on her stomach on the cot in hut ten, with a blanket up to her waist and bandages wrapped from her left shoulder to her ribs. The room smelled of Valley bone-salve. Her ledger lay open on the table beside her, out of her reach. She was plainly irritated that she couldn't check the figures herself.

Shi Feng set a bowl of rice broth on the stool and turned the ledger around so she could see it.

“Read this first,” Shi Feng said, turning it to the receipt.

She read. Her eyes moved down the page of last night's figures, fast and precise, and he watched them stop halfway.

There was a slip folded under the ink. It was a receipt from the sect dispensary, in He Zhen's clerk's careful hand. Nascent Soul-grade knitting paste, three doses. Rib-fever draught. Valley salve, one jar, third grade. Total, 640 stones. Paid in full by Shi Feng.

Sima Lan said nothing for a while.

“It's the sect's dispensary,” Shi Feng said. “It doesn't give credit.”

“Clause eight says medical expenses are the employer's,” Sima Lan said.

“Then it's clause eight,” Shi Feng said.

“It doesn't say six hundred and forty,” Sima Lan said.

“It says ‘reasonable’,” Shi Feng reminded her. “You needed the medicine.”

“It also says ‘itemised’,” Sima Lan replied, turning her cheek until only one eye showed. “Your handwriting on this is a disgrace. The sixes lean. You didn't even blot it.”

“I was in a hurry,” Shi Feng said.

“You paid it in the first hour,” Sima Lan said. “The dispensary clerk told Zhu Liu, and Zhu Liu told me. I was not asleep, as you assumed. I can hear through blankets.”

Shi Feng looked at her. Her exposed ear was bright red. She was embarrassed by how quickly he'd paid.

He picked up the broth, stirred it once and set it down again.

“When you can sit up,” Shi Feng said, “will you warm my bed?”

It was very quiet in hut ten.

Sima Lan did not move. Her whole face reddened. Shi Feng had picked a time when she couldn't escape him, and she was both mortified and annoyed. She opened her mouth, closed it, and tried again.

Nothing came out.

Normally she picked up her papers, said something cold about overtime and left with her back perfectly straight. Today she tried to rise, got as far as her elbow, and her shoulder reminded her where the blade had gone. She sank back with a hiss.

She could not leave. She could not even sit up.

So she did the only thing a proud woman could do. She turned her whole face to the wall.

“Outside the contract,” Sima Lan said to the plaster.

“I know,” Shi Feng said.

“Entirely,” Sima Lan said.

“I know,” Shi Feng said.

“There's no clause for it. There's no—” Sima Lan stopped, her voice cracking. She went silent again.

“Does he ask that of everyone he visits?” Ling Qingzhu asked from the door.

Shi Feng didn't turn at once. Ling Qingzhu stood on the threshold with her white veil tied, one hand on the door frame, and a jade jar in the other. She had a smear of bone-salve on her wrist and her sleeves were still rolled to the elbow.

“I knocked,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“Twice?” Shi Feng asked.

“Three times. You were both busy,” Ling Qingzhu replied, setting the jar beside the ledger. “More third-grade salve. The patient isn't allowed to refuse it.”

“I'm not refusing,” Sima Lan said to the wall. Her voice was muffled and mortified. “I thank the Valley for its generosity.”

“The herb gardeners did the hard part,” Ling Qingzhu said, accepting the thanks with a small nod. Her eyes moved to Shi Feng. “Good news never leaves the door, and bad news travels a thousand li. I've been here since dawn and I heard about the storehouse from four different people. Not one of them mentioned that the champion invites his wounded to bed.”

“She's an employee,” Shi Feng said.

“I know that,” Ling Qingzhu said, amused. “I assumed sick employees got a pension, not that invitation.”

“That's later,” Shi Feng said.

Ling Qingzhu nearly laughed, then covered it with a cough. Her thumb, he noticed, was pressed hard against the jar's lid.

“I heard you invoice people for breathing near you,” Ling Qingzhu said. “I didn't know there was a bed-warming rate.”

“It's a joke,” Sima Lan said from the wall. “A bad one. He says it to everyone.”

“Does he?” Ling Qingzhu asked.

“Only the ones who count,” Shi Feng said.

Sima Lan went silent. Ling Qingzhu looked caught off guard too.

Ling Qingzhu's ears reddened. She took her hand off the jar and straightened her sleeves, trying to regain her composure.

“I'll tell the dispensary boy to bring the second bandage in an hour,” Ling Qingzhu said. “Don't wake her for it. She hasn't slept.”

“She has,” Shi Feng said. “She's been listening through the blanket.”

From the cot came a strangled sound. Ling Qingzhu turned and left. At the door, she paused.

“Close your door,” Ling Qingzhu said, “next time you're being polite.”

Then she was gone, and her footsteps went quickly across the yard.

Shi Feng thought, I'm not sure who won that one.

Sima Lan stayed with her face to the wall.

“Attendant,” Sima Lan said, faintly, “requests that the employer leave.”

“Granted,” Shi Feng said.

He was on the step, picking up the empty broth bowl, when Zhu Liu came running up the lane with his abacus bouncing against his hip.

“Senior Brother Shi!” Zhu Liu panted. “Captain Lei Bo has woken up. He says he'll only talk to the man who bills him.”