Chapter 525 — Barely

CHAPTER 525

Barely

“It's not a move if nobody saw it!” Lin Langtian shouted over the roar.

“Four hundred people saw it,” Tian Luo said.

“Four hundred people were confused,” Lin Langtian said. “Fight, Junior Brother! Fight before they start counting!”

Shi Feng climbed the air again. Lin Langtian still grinned, but his eyes had become serious. Shi Feng recognised that look from the Pagoda yard, when his senior brother brought a sack of herbs. Beneath the jokes, Lin Langtian was paying close attention now.

“Again,” Lin Langtian said, softly enough that only the slab could hear. “Properly. Don't hold the sword like it's a rule.”

Shi Feng didn't answer. There was nothing to say to that.

He stepped up the air, five stairs, six, and the palm followed him. Lin Langtian turned on his one planted foot like a door on a hinge. Every strike Shi Feng made, the hand was already waiting for it.

He reads the body, Shi Feng thought. So don't give him a body to read.

Lin Langtian read the decision before the movement. Shi Feng understood what he had to change. During the cripple years, he’d practised until each motion needed as little thought as possible. Now he stopped choosing where the next stair should be. He trusted his body to take the step.

The seventh stair appeared under his heel, one he hadn't known he had. He fell off it sideways, caught the eighth with his toe and swung the trial blade low.

Lin Langtian's palm swept the wrong way.

For the first time, it was a hair too late.

The trial blade’s flat struck Lin Langtian squarely on the shoulder. His left boot tore a ribbon through the chalk, and the blow sent him backward off the slab. For once, Shi Feng had reached him before his palm could turn the strike away.

He crossed the white line, struck the court's flagstones and rolled three times.

The court went dead silent.

“…”

“The chief disciple,” someone whispered. “He lost.”

“Chief Disciple Lin lost?”

“To him?”

Lin Langtian lay on his back in the dust, one arm flung wide. A thin red line ran from the corner of his mouth.

“Junior Brother,” Lin Langtian said weakly, and coughed into his fist. “Junior Brother has surpassed me… The blue comes from the indigo and surpasses the indigo…”

“Chief Disciple!” Zhu Liu shrieked, and dropped the armful of broken blades.

“I can feel my meridians closing,” Lin Langtian said to the sky. “Tell the sweet potato seller at the gate I died owing him. Three coppers.”

“Chief Disciple, you're being absurd,” Tian Luo said.

“Someone carry me,” Lin Langtian said, ignoring that. “Gently. With a cushion. A big one.”

Four outer disciples ran for a stretcher. Wu Qiang was crying. So were three other people, and none of them were sure why.

Shi Feng finished the breath he’d begun before the final strike. He stood on the slab holding the cracked trial blade, stunned by the result. Then he noticed the red stain on Lin Langtian’s chin and looked more carefully.

It was a little too bright, and it smelled of dates.

Behind the stage, in the shade of the lumber shed, the stretcher bearers stopped for a rest. Lin Langtian lay on the cushion with his eyes shut, arms folded on his chest.

Shi Feng walked around the corner and found Zhu Liu standing very still beside the stretcher.

“Senior Brother Shi,” Zhu Liu said in a small voice. “I think Chief Disciple Lin is eating.”

“I'm resting,” Lin Langtian said, without opening his eyes.

There was a potato in his right hand. It was half gone. Steam rose from the open end.

“You were bleeding,” Shi Feng said.

“Date jam,” Lin Langtian said. “Medicinal. I keep it in a little pouch behind my teeth. Do you know how hard it is to lose beautifully?”

“No,” Shi Feng said.

“It takes preparation,” Lin Langtian said. He opened one eye. “You didn't need to check on me. You hit me as hard as you could, and I was late by exactly one breath. Barely.”

“You moved your foot first,” Shi Feng said.

“That was the plan. Nobody likes a man who loses standing still,” Lin Langtian said.

Zhu Liu glanced between them, then quietly backed away with the stretcher. The chief disciple was eating a potato and discussing how to lose beautifully. There was clearly no injury for him to help with here.

Lin Langtian sat up. The potato went into his sleeve. When he spoke again, his voice was lower and had lost its show.

“I lost to somebody better only once in my whole life,” Lin Langtian said. “It was a good feeling. Don't waste it by apologising.”

“I wasn't going to,” Shi Feng said.

“Good boy.” Lin Langtian grinned, and the old noise came back. “Now go and get your token! If you're late, the old man will charge you for the sunlight.”

The green token sat on a velvet cloth that Li Changyuan had plainly borrowed. Li Changyuan himself stood on the dais with the broom, in his patched brown robe, looking as if he'd been dragged there from his cabbages.

The courtyard stayed hushed. Four hundred people watched the ghost-faced champion climb the steps.

“Why is the old sweeper on the dais?”

“The Sect Master's too busy to come. He sent the broom.”

“…”

“Shi Feng,” Li Changyuan said. “Come up.”

Shi Feng stopped in front of him. Li Changyuan lifted the token, wiped it on his sleeve, looked at it and wiped it again.

“Core disciple,” Li Changyuan said. “Hall in the east. Ten stones a month, when we have them. You skip sweeping.”

“Thank you,” Shi Feng said.

“Don't thank me. Thank the Treasury. They don't know yet,” Li Changyuan said.

The crowd laughed before the first applause began in the front row. Gongsun Ce stood and clapped with his ledger under his arm. Others rose around him. He kept clapping until the whole court was on its feet, recognising Shi Feng as a core disciple.

Nobody said ghost face. Nobody even thought it loudly.

Li Changyuan leaned closer, and under the noise his voice dropped to a mutter.

“Your core has been full for three days. Don't think I haven't noticed,” Li Changyuan said. “Come to my hut after supper. We need to talk about the room.”

“I can pay for it,” Shi Feng said.

“That,” Li Changyuan said grimly, “is what worries me.”