Chapter 705 — Clients Leave

CHAPTER 705

Clients Leave

“Cancelled,” Ji Yuanhe read. “Cancelled. Cancelled.”

Three stewards stood in front of the little table, bowing and apologising. Each of them had brought his herb packets back to collect. None of them would meet Shi Feng’s eyes.

“Master Shi, please forgive us,” the first steward said. “The Azure Sun hall on Alchemists’ Row posted a notice at dawn. Anyone who placed an order at Willow Ford can have the same 4 Mark-grade pill from them at half price.”

“Half the fee,” the second steward said miserably. “My master couldn’t refuse it. It’s a great deal of money.”

“It is,” Shi Feng agreed. “Please take your herbs. Master Ji, cross them out.”

Ji Yuanhe crossed out the three names. His brush pressed hard against the page. Shi Feng watched him check that the correct herb packets went back to each steward, taking care despite his disappointment.

The stewards bowed again and hurried away with their packets. Down the lane, at the far end, Shi Feng could see a fourth man in silk hesitating at the corner, clearly wondering whether to come and cancel too.

“That’s a quarter of the book,” Ji Yuanhe said quietly.

“It’ll be half by tomorrow,” Shi Feng said.

Qu Ming meant to leave him without customers. Shi Feng recognised the expense and the purpose: Azure Sun would pay the difference on every half-price pill until Willow Ford needed its help. A wealthy sect could afford that longer than an independent furnace.

“A rich man’s war,” Shi Feng said. “He loses money on every pill and wins on every client.”

“Can he keep doing it?” Ji Yuanhe asked.

“Longer than a lane alchemist can,” Shi Feng said. “That’s the point.”

At midmorning, Guan Haojie arrived.

He came up the lane in dark blue with his seal box in both hands, as stiff as ever, and stopped in front of the table. Ji Yuanhe looked up at him and quietly turned to the Situ page.

“Steward Guan,” Shi Feng said. “Have you come to collect your herbs too?”

“No, Master Shi,” Guan Haojie said seriously. “I’ve come to ask whether the Situ order will still be ready on the tenth day.”

“It will,” Shi Feng said. “You heard about the Azure Sun notice?”

“The whole Row has heard,” Guan Haojie said. “The Situ house doesn’t buy cheap twice.”

Guan Haojie didn’t explain the word twice. Shi Feng understood that some earlier cheap order had cost the Situ house more than it saved. The steward wasn’t staying out of pity; he needed medicine he trusted to arrive on time.

“Then please tell the Situ house I’m grateful,” Shi Feng said.

“The Situ house doesn’t need gratitude,” Guan Haojie said. “It needs six Blood-Settling Pills.” He bowed. “Good day, Master Shi.”

Madam Liu Su arrived in the afternoon, in a fur-lined cloak, and sat down in the courtyard as if she owned it. She did own it. She had found it for him, and she collected its rent.

“Young Master Shi,” Liu Su said, smiling. “I hear the Azure Sun young lord has taken an interest in you. Congratulations. That’s the most expensive interest in the city.”

“It’s cost me three clients so far,” Shi Feng said.

“It’ll cost you more than that,” Liu Su said, very cheerfully. “When the water rises, the boat lifts. Rents in this ward have doubled since the candidates came. Every family heir in the Empire wants a courtyard near the Vermilion Avenue. I could let this place for twice what you pay by tomorrow morning.”

“You won’t, though,” Shi Feng said.

“I won’t,” Liu Su agreed. “You’re much more entertaining than a family heir. But I’ll take a small token of your gratitude.” She took a folded paper from her sleeve. “I’ve opened a book.”

Shi Feng unfolded it. It was a list of names in her neat hand, with odds beside each one. At the top it said, Who will the princess take?

“Qu Ming, three to one,” Shi Feng read. “The Situ grandson, five to one. Huangfu Lie of Thunder Abyss, eight to one.” He looked down the page. “I’m not on it.”

“You’re not a candidate, Young Master Shi,” Liu Su said. “Would you like to be on it?”

“No,” Shi Feng said. “Keep it that way.”

Liu Su laughed and put the list away. Then she took out a second paper. This one was small, stamped in red with a phoenix tail.

“Then here’s something more useful,” Liu Su said. “The Phoenix Tail Pavilion’s Buying Hall only lets in slot holders on a sale day. Most of the slots for the first went to candidates’ households this week. I kept one back.”

Shi Feng looked at the slip, and then at her.

“How did you know?” Shi Feng asked.

“Xiong Qiyun sells his sentences to more than one customer,” Liu Su said. “Ten silver.”

Shi Feng counted out the ten silver immediately. He didn’t haggle, which Liu Su hadn’t expected. She watched him pay, then handed it over without another joke about how much he wanted it.

That night he lit the furnace in the open yard.

The workshop licence allowed clouds above the ridge now, and he meant to use it. Twelve red Situ packets sat in a row on the bench. Ji Yuanhe stood beside him and handed them over one at a time.

It was quiet work. The Thousand Forge Flame Art ran steady under the bronze, and he fed the herbs in pair by pair. Within an hour, the first clouds rose white over the courtyard wall.

The lane noticed.

Neighbours set ladders against the courtyard wall. Niu Tiezhu appeared on Auntie Niu’s roof ridge, then his grandmother climbed up beside him. The cloth seller came out in his nightshirt. Shi Feng let them watch while keeping his attention on the furnace.

“Five clouds!” Niu Tiezhu whispered loudly. “Grandma, there are five!”

“Six… seven…”

“Eight! There are eight! I’ve never seen eight!”

“Hush, you’ll put him off!”

“…”

Eight clouds stood over Willow Ford, white and full in the moonlight, and the whole lane watched them in silence.

By the fourth watch, the furnace had given eleven Blood-Settling Pills of Perfect quality, and one waste pill. Six went into the Situ box. Five went into his sleeve. The waste pill went into his mouth, and nobody on the wall saw it.

Shi Feng banked the fire and looked at the slip with the phoenix tail on it.

The first of the month was six days away.