Chapter 489 — A Legend at Travel Rates

CHAPTER 489

A Legend at Travel Rates

Zhu Liu had told the story three times between hut nine and the sect master's hut, and each time the legend grew taller.

By the time they all crowded in, he was out of breath and had forgotten to write a receipt. Shi Feng took the low bench. Li Changyuan sat behind a table with a cabbage on it, and Qian Mo, Tian Luo and Sima Lan filled the rest of the room. Sima Lan stood against the wall in her blanket with her slate, and she looked as if she'd slept for none of the night and meant to bill someone for it.

“A legend,” Zhu Liu said again, to the room. “In the hills!”

“Which hills?” Shi Feng asked.

“North of Qingyun City,” Zhu Liu said. “The neutral ones, between the Palace's road and the Valley's. I heard it at the tea house on Salt Well Street. Three hunters were crying into one pot.”

“Why were they crying?” Elder Tian Luo asked.

“Because they found a gate!” Zhu Liu said. “A stone gate in a cliff. The spring rains washed half a hillside away, and there it was. Old as the mountain, they said. And there are remains behind it. A whole cultivator. The hunters said a pie had fallen from the sky.”

“A whole one?” Qian Mo said. “Most of them come in pieces.”

“The people in town call it the Legendary Cultivator's Ruin,” Zhu Liu said. “The scrolls don't agree on his name. They only agree that he was a legend.”

“Scrolls always agree on the ones who cost money,” Qian Mo said.

Li Changyuan lifted his head from the cabbage. His broom leaned against the wall behind him, but his interest sharpened as Zhu Liu mentioned the gate.

“How far?” Li Changyuan asked.

“Three days by road,” Zhu Liu answered, sure of that much.

“Three there, three back,” Li Changyuan said. “And in the middle, a hole in the ground. What does a legend eat?”

“Sect Master, it's a ruin,” Tian Luo said.

“Everything eats,” Li Changyuan said. “Qian Mo. Count.”

Qian Mo already had the abacus out. The beads clicked rapidly.

“Twelve disciples, if we're given twelve,” Qian Mo said. “Six days of rations. A cart, because the ox is owed a rest. Boat fare for the elders. Bribes for the gate clerks, since there are always gate clerks.” He stopped. “Four hundred and ten stones. For a hole.”

“A hole with a legend in it,” Tian Luo said.

“Legends don't pay,” Li Changyuan said. “Dead men never do. Ask anyone who has lent to a dead man.”

“Have you?” Shi Feng asked.

“Once,” Li Changyuan said. “It was the worst cabbage season of my life.”

Sima Lan's chalk made a small, neat mark on the slate. Shi Feng didn't ask what it counted.

He studied the old man instead. Li Changyuan argued about travel costs for a quarter of an hour, but never asked whether the Ruin was real. He already believed the report, Shi Feng thought. The old fox was hiding his interest behind complaints about money. Shi Feng let him keep pretending.

“Sect Master,” Tian Luo said, more quietly. “A Pavilion runner came to the gate before dawn. All three Great Sects are summoned to Qingyun City in three days, to sign a pact over the Ruin. The Palace and the Valley have heard the same rumour. They will not wait for us. As the saying goes, the one who strikes first holds the advantage.”

“Then we'll go by cart,” Li Changyuan said. “Slowly. Stopping to look at things.”

“Sect Master—” Tian Luo began, worried about arriving late.

“And the Palace pays for the road,” Li Changyuan said. “They still owe us an arbitration.”

“They owe us a great deal more than a road,” Qian Mo said, with the first smile of the morning.

“Then the cart can be a good cart,” Li Changyuan said.

On the roof something crunched. A potato peel slid past the window, turning gently in the light.

“Be careful with legends, Junior Brother,” Lin Langtian called down. “Once a man dies, everyone starts telling stories about him. He can't come back and call them liars.”

“Is that a lesson?” Shi Feng asked.

“It's a warning,” Lin Langtian said. “The lesson is next week.”

“There's more,” Zhu Liu said. His voice dropped. “The hunters' guide. The old one who led them up. He walked to the gate first, and it threw him back. Twelve paces, onto his backside. He landed hard enough to frighten all three hunters.”

The crunching stopped.

“What realm was the guide?” Lin Langtian asked. His voice was cheerful. It was also a little too slow.

“Early Nascent Soul, they said,” Zhu Liu answered, lowering his voice.

For a while nobody in the hut spoke. The peel dropped to the ground outside with a soft slap.

“Again,” Lin Langtian said. “I'm beginning to think it's personal.”

“Where are you going?” Shi Feng asked, as boots scraped across the tiles.

“To sit on a different roof,” Lin Langtian said. “One with a better view of being left behind.”