Chapter 643 — Eight on the Board

CHAPTER 643

Eight on the Board

By dawn the Pavilion courtyard was full, and the line at the gate ran back past two bridges.

Tao Xiaoyu sat at the gate with a cash box and a stern face, taking one silver a head. Rao Yingchun stood beside her and politely refused every man who tried to bargain. Two furnaces waited on the stone floor under the tower, ten paces apart. Behind them, a tall black board had been set up for the count.

Ouyang Jie lit his fire first. It was a deep, steady blue, without a single flicker, and the old alchemists in the front rows murmured at once.

“That’s a real 4 Mark’s fire.”

“Look at his wrist. It hasn’t moved once.”

Shi Feng lit the Thousand Forge fire, folded it back on itself the way the lid had taught him, and set the herbs in one by one. Then he sat on a stool and waited.

Tao Xiaoyu left the cash box with Rao Yingchun and climbed onto a crate beside the board with chalk in her hand.

Ouyang Jie’s pill rose first.

“One!” Tao Xiaoyu called. “Two! Three! Four! Five! Six!”

The sixth cloud settled over his lid, and the pill under it shot upward. Ouyang Jie lifted a square jade seal and pressed it down onto the lid in one smooth movement. The pill hummed, struggled, and was still.

The courtyard broke into applause. Six clouds was Major Success on a 4 Mark-grade pill. Most 4 Mark masters in Wanhe went their whole lives without making one.

Ouyang Jie bowed slightly to the applause and turned to watch the other furnace.

Shi Feng’s pill came up quietly, without banging the lid.

“One! Two! Three!” Tao Xiaoyu shouted, and the whole courtyard was counting with her now. “Four! Five! Six!”

Ouyang Jie’s face didn’t change.

“Seven!” Tao Xiaoyu shouted.

His hand tightened on the jade seal.

“Eight!” Tao Xiaoyu shrieked.

The eighth cloud spread over the courtyard, white and full. Under it the pill pushed up hard against the lid. Shi Feng put two fingers on the lid and held it there, as easily as a man holding a teacup still. The pill hummed low and settled.

Tao Xiaoyu chalked an eight on the board in huge strokes. Beside it she wrote: PERFECT.

The courtyard went wild.

“Eight! Eight clouds!”

“A 3 Mark made a Perfect 4 Mark-grade pill?”

“He held it down with two fingers! Two!”

An old master in the front row whispered the saying about the river’s back waves pushing on the front ones. His companions nodded, staring at the younger alchemist.

“...”

Ouyang Jie walked to the board and read it for a long time.

“Eight,” Ouyang Jie said at last. “Beautiful.” He turned to the courtyard, and his voice stayed perfectly even. “And clause four of the contract. Master Feng holds a third-grade paper. No 4 Mark, no bet.”

The applause died.

Ouyang Jie’s steward hurried forward with the contract and held it up so the front rows could see. “Clause four, signed by both parties,” the steward said loudly. “Should either party not bear a 4 Mark certificate, the wager is void. A clean hand fears no dirty water.”

Every head in the courtyard turned toward Shi Feng.

“That’s cheating!” someone shouted.

“He won! Everyone saw it!”

Shi Feng stood up from his stool and dusted off his sleeves. He was smiling.

“He’s right,” Shi Feng said.

The courtyard went quiet in confusion.

“I read clause four twice before I signed it,” Shi Feng said pleasantly. “I knew exactly what it meant. If I lost, I’d lose nothing. If I won, I’d win nothing but the stakes back. Master Ouyang wrote a very safe bet, and I was delighted to take it.” He pointed at the board. “I only ask one thing. The Pavilion keeps a cloud book. Please write those eight clouds in it.”

Ouyang Jie looked at him and said nothing.

Branch Master Cen Rong stepped down from the tower steps with the cloud book open on her arm.

“The wager is void as written,” Cen Rong said. “Stakes return to both parties. The entry fee and the viewing fees were paid outside the wager and remain with Master Feng.” She dipped her brush. “Feng Shi, Lamp-Oil Lane. 4 Mark-grade pill. Eight clouds. Perfect.”

The brush moved, and it was done.

The courtyard took a moment to understand. Then a fat salt merchant near the gate burst out laughing.

“He got paid to win a bet he couldn’t win!”

“Fifty thousand for the entry, and a silver a head...”

“How many heads were there?”

“Over three thousand,” Tao Xiaoyu said briskly, without looking up from her cash box.

At dusk, Ouyang Jie came alone to Lamp-Oil Lane.

He sat down at the noodle board next to Shi Feng, ordered a bowl from Tao Erniang, and ate half of it before he spoke.

“I didn’t write clause four to cheat you,” Ouyang Jie said. “My steward wrote it to protect me. I let it stand because I didn’t think I’d need it.”

“You made six clouds and never sweated once,” Shi Feng said, grinning. “Your steward sweated enough for both of you.”

Ouyang Jie put down his chopsticks, stood and laid sixteen coppers on the board.

“When you hold the paper, come and take the bow,” Ouyang Jie said, and walked out of the lane.

That night, six private orders came to the back door, one after another. Each asked for a 4 Mark-grade pill. Each was worded as a “gift”, with no Mark named and a price that was not a gift at all. Tao Xiaoyu wrote them in the Commission Book under a new heading: GIFTS.

“Ji Yuanhe,” Shi Feng said, sitting beside him at the back furnace. “They wrote eight in the book. That record will stay even if Ouyang Jie never admits he lost. I wanted you to hear that.”

“Seven hundred and two,” Ji Yuanhe said. Shi Feng stayed beside him for the next few numbers, letting the excitement outside subside before he returned to work.

Footsteps came down the lane. Branch Master Cen Rong stood at the back door with her hands in her sleeves.

“The Spring Contest invitations went out today,” Cen Rong said. “Grandmaster Zhuo has asked for one more name to be added to his house’s list.” She paused. “He asked for Feng Shi.”