Chapter 476 — Irregularities

CHAPTER 476

Irregularities

“Irregularities,” Qu Jiang said.

It was the fourth time he'd said it. He stood at the Martial Palace table, stroking his long grey beard while he chose his words.

The hearing hall of the Qingyun City tower was a round grey room, much smaller than the glass dome where the Assembly had sold its ancient pill. Three raised seats stood at the far end. The white floor echoed every cough. Pavilion wardens in white robes stood at the pillars, and nobody had brought a weapon in. A warden had taken Qian Mo's abacus at the door, searched it for blades, and then reluctantly handed it back.

In the centre seat sat Examining Elder Yin Zhao, with his white beard and a stern expression. Hui Cang, the tall auctioneer from the Assembly, sat on his left with both hands in his sleeves. On the right sat Assessor Wen Lu, her dry brush resting on a clean sheet.

“The Palace's filing,” Yin Zhao said, “speaks of thefts at Shimen Pass.”

“The filing speaks of irregularities in the forward ledgers,” Qu Jiang said.

“It says twenty-one thousand stones were removed from the forward chest by persons in Hall of Supply tabards,” Yin Zhao said.

“Removed, yes,” Qu Jiang said. “Irregularly.”

Wen Lu's brush didn't move. Hui Cang looked at the ceiling.

Shi Feng sat on the Artificer Hall bench with his hands on his knees and let the old fox work. He knew exactly why the word was irregularities. If the Palace said theft, the next question would be who had signed the release. The answer was the Palace's own quartermaster, on the Palace's own seal, for “consolidation”. Calling them thieves meant admitting that a forged order fooled Shimen Pass in front of three kingdoms. Qu Jiang wanted compensation without explaining why his own men released the stones. The black war seal sat wrapped in its cloth on the Hall's table, tagged with its storage fee, and Wei Chengyuan's unsealed letter to the Sect Master was folded inside Shi Feng's sleeve. He meant to keep it there until the Palace gave him a reason to read it aloud.

“Does the Palace accuse Artificer Hall of the removal?” Tian Luo asked. He stood very straight, with the closed register under one hand.

Qu Jiang opened his mouth. Beside him, Treasurer Peng Yan leaned over and whispered something, clutching his jade abacus anxiously.

“The Palace accuses nobody,” Qu Jiang said. “The Palace merely observes that the Hall's sect master is old, the Hall is poor, and the Hall was strangely rich by the third of the month. As the saying goes, no wave rises without wind.”

“We sold pills,” Tian Luo said.

“Over two days,” Qu Jiang said. “At a war-season auction.”

“Which your own consignors attended,” Wen Lu said, without looking up. “The Pavilion has the plate numbers.”

Qu Jiang closed his mouth again.

Behind the Hall's bench, Sima Lan stood with one hand resting on the back of Shi Feng's chair. She had refused a stool at the door and refused another at the bench. Twelve days of Valley salve had put colour in her face, and she kept her chin level. Sima Lan hid the pain well, but Shi Feng noticed her fingers tighten on the chair with each breath. Her shoulder still hurt.

“Sit,” Shi Feng said, very low.

“Attendants stand,” Sima Lan said.

“Since when?” Shi Feng asked.

“Since the Palace is watching,” Sima Lan said.

He let it go.

In the back row, Li Changyuan sat on the end of a bench with his broom across his knees and a basket of cabbages at his feet. The wardens had inspected the broom for a long time and ruled it a household tool. He appeared to be asleep.

Across the aisle, in the green-draped seats of the Valley delegation, Mu Shuyun sat with her hands folded. Su Wanning was whispering to her left, whispering far too loudly for a hearing hall.

“He hasn't looked at you once, Big Sis Qingzhu! Not even once! He's looking at the beard! The beard! Who looks at a beard when you're in the room?” Su Wanning whispered.

“Wanning,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“And look, look, the attendant's standing there like a spear, and she's got her hand on his chair, did you see that? I think she's very brave. I think I'd faint. I think—” Su Wanning rushed on.

“Wanning. Please,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“Your thumb's on your sleeve,” Su Wanning said.

Ling Qingzhu hurriedly took her thumb off her sleeve, embarrassed that Su Wanning had noticed. Then she glanced across the hall, past Shi Feng, to the woman standing behind him.

Sima Lan met her eyes. She inclined her head by exactly one degree.

Ling Qingzhu inclined hers back by the same amount.

“Nobody blinked,” Su Wanning breathed. “I'm scared.”

At the centre seat, Yin Zhao tapped the arm of his chair once.

“The Palace has been heard,” Yin Zhao said. “If the Palace has no further irregularities, the Hall may present its statement.”

Qu Jiang sat down heavily. Peng Yan caught his sleeve and hissed something about the Palace's own list of damages, which was still being counted.

Zhu Liu rose at the Hall's bench holding a long wooden rod. Sima Lan had pasted all eleven pages end to end overnight, so that none could be lost, and rolled them around it. He bowed to the three seats, turned and tripped on his own hem.

The rod flew from his hands. The statement came unrolling across the white floor, page after page, past the Hall's table, past the aisle, until the last sheet stopped against the toe of Qu Jiang's boot.

Zhu Liu turned red as everyone stared at the unrolled bill.

He picked up the rod, found the first line and cleared his throat.

“Item one,” Zhu Liu said.