Chapter 55 — The Hunter at the Narrow Pass

CHAPTER 55

The Hunter at the Narrow Pass

He Zhong stood between the two boulders with somebody else's pack in his hand.

The woman in front of him kept reaching for its strap. He Zhong held it high enough that she couldn't get it without stepping within his reach. A spear floated beside his shoulder, turned sideways across the narrow path.

“Inspection fee,” He Zhong said. “You know the price.”

“I paid at the gate,” Lin Cai said. Her sleeve had torn along the seam, and loose leaves clung to her wrist. “That's my medicine money.”

He Zhong took a packet of red-veined roots and tossed the pack at her feet. Lin Cai dropped to gather the scattered bundles. Shi Feng stopped above the bend and watched. The hunter had been buying cheap roots at the gathering market that morning.

He Zhong saw the household pass at Shi Feng's belt and smiled.

“Go on,” He Zhong said to Lin Cai. “I've found a better fee.”

Lin Cai hurried downhill. As she passed Shi Feng, she glanced at his sword and shook her head. She didn't stop to ask a stranger to fight for her.

“Keep walking,” Shi Feng said. “Mind the loose stones.”

He Zhong set the butt of his spear against the opposite boulder. The shaft blocked the path at waist height. Its point faced away from Shi Feng, but the qi holding it steady was plain enough. Foundation Establishment, and comfortable using it to frighten gatherers.

Shi Feng stopped an arm's length from the barrier.

“Household pass,” He Zhong said. “Let me look.”

“You're not a clerk,” Shi Feng said.

“Clerks stay by the gate. I work up here,” He Zhong said. “Hand over the pass and that bag. I'll decide the share.”

The inner pocket of Shi Feng's cheap bag held his papers. The visible bundles were roots from a shaded ravine, wrapped to keep the fine fibres from breaking. He had spent most of the morning finding them. He wasn't going to give them away because a hunter preferred other people's work.

He set the bag carefully on a dry shelf of rock.

He Zhong grinned, taking that for obedience.

“Fairy Ling's husband,” He Zhong said. “They said you were sensible. A man who can't cultivate should borrow a good name and know when to use it.”

“The name on my pass isn't yours,” Shi Feng said.

“Then borrow mine for the way down,” He Zhong said. “You'll leave with your legs working. That's better than most bargains.”

The spear shaft swung toward Shi Feng's knees. He Zhong used the blunt part. At the same time, the hunter reached for the pass.

Shi Feng caught the shaft.

He Zhong's fingers stopped short of the seal. His grin stayed for a moment, as though his face hadn't heard what his arm had discovered.

Then Shi Feng pulled.

The floating spear left He Zhong's control and struck the path. Shi Feng stepped across it and took the hunter's wrist before he could retreat. He turned the hand outward just far enough to fold He Zhong's arm behind his back.

He Zhong hit the boulder chest first.

“Let go!” He Zhong shouted.

Qi swelled around his shoulders. Shi Feng pressed harder, and the protective layer broke with a short crack. He Zhong's next breath came out as a wheeze. His face scraped the stone, leaving a thin red line.

That was the whole fight.

Shi Feng planted a foot on the spear shaft and held the hunter still. There was no need to bare his own qi. His strengthened bones and body did enough.

“You collect fees with a spear?” Shi Feng asked.

“I was only holding you!” He Zhong said. “I didn't use the point!”

“I noticed,” Shi Feng said.

He Zhong twisted once. The movement stopped at his wrist. His face lost what colour it had left. Now he couldn't even turn his head far enough to see the man holding him.

“Take the roots back,” He Zhong said. “They're hers. Take them!”

Shi Feng looked toward the bend. Lin Cai had stopped well below them. She was watching from beside a scrub pine, too far away to hear the words.

“Come collect your packet,” Shi Feng called. “Stay on that side of the path.”

Lin Cai approached cautiously. Her gaze went from He Zhong's pinned arm to Shi Feng's plain robe. Shi Feng nodded toward the dropped roots. She picked them up and checked the binding with shaking hands.

“That's all?” Shi Feng asked.

“And two stones,” Lin Cai said.

He Zhong made an angry sound against the rock. Shi Feng raised his wrist a little. The sound changed.

“Left pocket!” He Zhong gasped. “Take two!”

Lin Cai took exactly two stones. She held the packet against her chest and backed toward the bend again.

“Thank you, young master,” Lin Cai said.

“Go before the gate closes,” Shi Feng said.

She went. Shi Feng waited until her footsteps had faded before easing his grip. He Zhong sagged, but Shi Feng kept him against the boulder until the hunter stopped trying to gather qi.

Two gatherers had waited at the bend beyond the scrub pine, and a muleteer had halted his loaded mule where the slope widened. Shi Feng nodded at the hunter's belt pouch. “The inspection fees. All of them.”

He Zhong emptied the pouch into his palm: six coppers to the first gatherer, four to the second, two to the muleteer. The muleteer counted his aloud, twice, and the gatherers counted theirs with him.

“Tell the gate what the fee was for,” Shi Feng said. The muleteer nodded for all three of them, and Shi Feng turned back to the hunter.

“Put the spear away,” Shi Feng said.

He Zhong obeyed. The weapon slid under a leather loop on his pack. His hand shook while fastening it.

“You could have said you were strong,” He Zhong muttered.

“You could have kept your hands to yourself,” Shi Feng said.

He took back the household pass from where He Zhong had dropped it, checked the seal and returned it to his belt. Then he lifted his bag. None of the medicine jars had broken. That mattered more than the hunter's opinion.

He Zhong stayed sitting beneath the boulder. There was blood on his cheek, dust on his robe and a swelling wrist tucked against his chest. Shi Feng left him alive.

That didn't mean he trusted him to remember it honestly.

Half an hour later, at the foot of the pass beside the mule tether, He Zhong cradled his swollen wrist against his ribs and caught a passing fur broker by the sleeve.

“Brother,” He Zhong hissed through his teeth, his eyes still fixed on the trail Shi Feng had taken toward the gate, “people say the Eastern Palace hates that husband Fairy Ling married. Who in the capital pays spirit stones for real news about what that ‘cripple’ can do with his hands?”

“Pass and gathering slip,” Ke Song said at the gate.

Shi Feng handed them over, collected his stamped slip, and returned to Qingliu Lane before dusk. While Ling Qingzhu silently poured clean water into the yard basin for his scraped knuckle, a messenger boy slipped a handbill under the gate: a broker named Ma Zheng was recruiting an expedition into the newly opened Chiyun Ruins at dawn.