Chapter 519 — The Roster

CHAPTER 519

The Roster

“Four rounds,” He Zhen said, unrolling the scroll in the central square. “Each round cuts the field. Whoever is still standing at the end meets the chief disciple.”

Fourteen candidates stood in a line in front of the dais. Behind them the whole sect had gathered, outer court and inner court, two hundred and forty people with steamed buns. Even Elder Qian Mo had come, to make sure the buns were paid for.

Shi Feng stood at the end of the line, between Pei Gang and the post. Pei Gang was the oldest of the inner-court seniors, a lean man of forty with a worried face. He gave Shi Feng a small, careful nod.

“Round one, the Flame Cavern,” He Zhen read. “Bring out the tally of ring five or deeper. Round two, the Sword Pagoda. Its top floor opens for this trial only, for one day. Round three, a duel with the sitting core disciple, Gongsun Ce. Round four, the final.”

“What's the top floor?” someone whispered.

“Nobody knows,” someone else whispered. “It's been shut eleven years.”

“It was shut because it's boring.”

“It was shut because a man died.”

“A man didn't die. He was carried out. It's different.”

“Ghost face,” Dou Hai said.

The voice came from the line, low and clear. Shi Feng didn't turn his head.

Dou Hai stood to his left, a heavy, handsome inner disciple at early Golden Core. His sleeves were rolled back to show his forearms. After the insult, he smiled at the crowd, plainly expecting them to admire his wit.

“The champion,” Dou Hai said. “Look at that. A hero of the tournament, and he looks like a roasted pepper. Don't stand too close to the cavern, Champion. It might mistake you for one of its own.”

Laughter broke out behind them. A girl in the outer-court rows giggled and was shushed by her friend. Sima Lan, standing with the ledger at the edge of the crowd, put down her chalk.

Shi Feng looked at the roster board beside the dais.

He’d read it from top to bottom that morning. Besides each candidate’s name and realm, it listed the meridians opened at Meridian Opening, copied from the sect’s entry records. Nobody else seemed to have bothered reading those small, neat numbers. Shi Feng remembered every one he needed.

“Dou Hai,” Shi Feng said.

“Yes?” Dou Hai said, still smiling.

“A hundred and twenty-eight meridians,” Shi Feng said. “Eight above completion. You've been proud of it since you entered. It's the first number on the third row.”

Dou Hai kept smiling, but his expression stiffened. He hadn’t expected anyone to answer his mockery with his own entry record, in front of the whole sect.

“What did you—” Dou Hai said.

“It's on the board,” Shi Feng said.

Nobody laughed. Somebody in the crowd said “Third row?” and about forty people turned their heads toward the board at the same time.

On Dou Hai's other side stood a thin, pale disciple named Sun Lei, who had been enjoying himself. He folded his arms and raised his chin.

“Brave talk for a cripple,” Sun Lei said. “A tiger on the plains gets bullied by dogs. Look at his hand. It shakes. Everyone saw him drop the bowl at breakfast yesterday.”

“Sun Lei,” Shi Feng said. “A hundred and forty-one meridians. On your entry form you wrote a hundred and forty-three. The clerk corrected it in red ink.”

Sun Lei opened his mouth, and nothing came out.

“And the bowl was cracked,” Shi Feng said. “I had Zhu Liu write that down.”

“I did,” Zhu Liu said from the crowd, holding up the receipt book. “I put it under ‘ceramics’.”

“…”

“He read the roster.”

“Nobody reads the roster!”

“It's four hundred names long!”

“It's fourteen names long, you fool.”

“Then why didn't I read it?”

“Those three have eyes and failed to see Mount Tai.”

Xi Wen, a stocky disciple farther along the line, lifted his chin. He’d been waiting to speak and looked pleased with the insult he’d prepared. Apparently watching the other two fail hadn’t discouraged him.

“Ghost face,” Xi Wen said. “Ghost face. Ghost fa—”

“Xi Wen,” Shi Feng said. “A hundred and thirty-three. Your name's two rows above mine.”

“…I was just saying,” Xi Wen said.

“I know,” Shi Feng said. “So was the board.”

He Zhen finally lowered his scroll. He looked at the three candidates, then at Shi Feng and the roster board. The insults had stopped, but nobody was paying attention to the trial rules anymore. He cleared his throat to bring them back.

“Are you finished?” He Zhen asked.

“Yes,” Shi Feng said.

“Good.” He Zhen cleared his throat. “The cavern opens at dawn. The deposit is one stone. Refundable.”

The crowd broke up, still talking about the roster. A few disciples glanced back at Shi Feng’s face. The burns hadn’t changed, but they were more careful about staring now. Three inner disciples had already shown how badly mocking him could end.

Pei Gang leaned over. “I didn't know the board listed meridians,” Pei Gang murmured.

“It lists everything,” Shi Feng said. “Hardly anyone looks.”

“Mine?” Pei Gang said.

“A hundred and fifty-two. You've never mentioned it,” Shi Feng said.

Pei Gang went red to the ears and said nothing for the rest of the morning.

From the roof of the Register Hall, Lin Langtian shouted with great pleasure, “Junior Brother! You took three men's pride apart and made them hold the pieces! I've never been so proud!”

Shi Feng didn't look up. Gongsun Ce was passing the dais with his hands behind him, wearing his best grey robe.

“I'm told the third round is me,” Gongsun Ce said.

“I read the board,” Shi Feng said.

“I'll be using everything,” Gongsun Ce said.

“Good,” Shi Feng said.

Gongsun Ce nodded, and walked on. He did not smile, which for him was a form of respect. Behind him, Sima Lan flipped a page of her ledger.

“He sent for sixty puppets from the storehouse last night,” Sima Lan said. “Song Tai's bad back is on my account.”