Chapter 728 — No Rule Against It

CHAPTER 728

No Rule Against It

“Thirty to one,” Madam Liu Su said, and tapped her fan on his counter. Tap. “On stall forty-one.”

She stood in front of the stall in a fur-lined coat, holding a small red book open in her other hand. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of salt, but she didn’t step back.

“You’re running a book on the stalls?” Shi Feng asked.

“I run a book on everything the princess does, Young Master Shi. The city is full of candidates and their servants, and every one of them wants to bet on his own master.” Tap. “Stall six is favourite, at two to one. Young Lord Qu’s stall is three to one.” Tap. “Yours is thirty. Most people think a man who refines beside a drain will be gone by the seventh day.”

“And what do you think?” Shi Feng said.

“Somebody filled your chest with brine, and you opened on time,” Liu Su said, watching him over the fan. “I wanted to see how you’d taken it.” She inspected his face. “Not very comfortably, by the look of you.”

“I had a large breakfast,” Shi Feng said.

He took ten silver out of his sleeve and put it on her book.

“Stall forty-one,” Shi Feng said.

Liu Su wrote it down in neat small characters. Tap.

“Wind and water turn in circles, Young Master Shi,” Liu Su said. “Betting on yourself. Either you’re very sure, or very poor.”

“I’m very sure,” Shi Feng said. “And ten silver is what I can afford to lose today.”

Liu Su laughed behind her fan and went on down the row to take bets from Wei Hanlu’s servants.

Later that morning, Old Gou came back from the Golden Abacus Hall with two sacks, and with something else.

“Master Shi,” Old Gou said, scratching his neck. “You asked yesterday who works this row at night. Lanky Ma was down at the pickle yards by the canal at the second watch. Bought a whole barrel of brine. Paid for a cart to carry it.” He lowered his voice. “He’s never had the money for a cart in his life.”

“Where is he now?” Shi Feng asked.

“Drinking,” Old Gou said. “At the Fish Gate wine shop. With a lot of money.”

At the Fish Gate wine shop, Lanky Ma was buying rounds for the other porters when Shi Feng found him. He paled and half stood. Seeing Ji Yuanhe at the doorway, he sat again, suddenly less eager to display how much money he had.

“I didn’t break any lock,” Lanky Ma said at once. “I didn’t touch the seal!”

“I know,” Shi Feng said. “Who paid you?”

His hand moved toward his sash before he could stop it. Shi Feng noticed and held out a palm. He waited without threatening him. Lanky Ma looked between that hand and the doorway, then reached for the paper he’d been paid with.

After a long moment, the porter took out a pay chit and laid it on the table. It was red paper, stamped with a small sun in flames. The Azure Sun Sect paid every porter who carried its herb sacks with chits like that one.

“A man in red gave it to me at the herb house door,” Lanky Ma mumbled. “He said salt the pill-boy’s chest, and don’t touch the lock. That’s all. I don’t know his name.”

“Then you’ll come and tell the steward that,” Shi Feng said. “And afterwards you can go back to your wine.”

Ke Lianshu listened to the whole story in the household office at the West Market gate. He looked at the chit. He looked at Lanky Ma, who was staring at the floor. Then he stood up and bowed deeply to Shi Feng.

“This humble steward apologises, Master Shi,” Ke Lianshu said. “Truly. It’s a disgraceful thing.”

“And?” Shi Feng asked.

Ke Lianshu bowed again, a little lower.

“And there is no rule against it,” Ke Lianshu said unhappily. “Her Highness’s rules govern the candidates. Young Lord Qu didn’t pour any brine. This man isn’t a candidate. The Azure Sun pays half the porters in the city with chits like this. And the household’s seal was not broken.” He spread his hands. “This humble steward can’t strike a name for something no rule forbids.”

Ji Yuanhe made a small sound behind Shi Feng.

“Record the name, the date and the chit,” Shi Feng said. “I want the household to know I brought this to you, even if it won’t strike a tally over it.”

Ke Lianshu’s eyes lifted for a moment. Then he took a brush and wrote it down in the household register, with the date, the porter’s name and the chit, and he blew on the ink.

“It’s written, Master Shi,” Ke Lianshu said.

“Thank you,” Shi Feng said. He meant it. A register outlived a round. “Then from tonight, I’ll guard my own chest. Is there a rule against that?”

“None at all,” Ke Lianshu said, sounding relieved.

Outside, Lanky Ma ran for the Fish Gate as if a tiger were chasing him.

Ji Yuanhe walked beside Shi Feng back down Lantern Row in silence for a while.

“They’ll do it again,” Ji Yuanhe said.

“Qu Ming expects me to guard stock all night and sell all day,” Shi Feng said. “It leaves little room to answer what he’s doing. I won’t give him the rest of this round as well as the ruined herbs.”

He stopped at the bottom of the row and looked across at Golden Abacus Hall. The queue was out the door again, as long as ever. Gold paper flashed in every hand.

“So I’ll think about something else,” Shi Feng said. “Ji Yuanhe, is there one of the Tang pills left? The one we bought on the first day?”

Ji Yuanhe took the little gold box out of his sleeve. One corner of the pill inside was missing, where Shi Feng had bitten it.

“One,” Ji Yuanhe said.

“That’s all I need,” Shi Feng said, and turned up the hill toward the Phoenix Tail Pavilion.