Chapter 733 — Showy Fire

CHAPTER 733

Showy Fire

He Zhanpeng of the Black Ox Old House climbed onto the ring opposite Qu Ming with an iron staff as long as two men. He set his feet and bowed properly. Qu Ming nodded back, barely. He hadn’t taken off his outer coat.

“Bout one,” Ke Lianshu called. “Young Lord Qu Ming against Young Master He Zhanpeng. This humble steward begs you both to mind the edge.”

At the candidates’ rail, Shi Feng leaned on the wood with his hands in his sleeves. Ji Yuanhe stood one step behind him with a flask of hot tea, as a registered attendant was allowed to. Cheng Mobai leaned on the rail on his other side.

“He Zhanpeng’s late Deity Transformation,” Cheng Mobai said. “Good with a staff.”

“How good?” Shi Feng asked.

“Good enough to lose slowly,” Cheng Mobai said.

“Begin,” Ke Lianshu said, and stepped down quickly.

He Zhanpeng came in with a sweep at the knees. Black Ox Ploughs the Field was a Deity Transformation-grade staff art, heavy and low.

Qu Ming didn’t jump. He raised his right hand above his head, palm up.

Fire gathered there, a spark becoming a ball, and in three breaths it was a small red sun over the ring. It was the Scorching Sun Flame, the Azure Sun Sect’s own art.

The staff reached Qu Ming’s knees.

Qu Ming dropped the sun on it.

Boom!

The iron staff turned red end to end. He Zhanpeng let go with a shout and jumped back with his palms smoking. He gave one step, two, three, and the fourth step had no ring under it. He landed on his back in the frozen sand with his robe burning, and two attendants threw snow on him at once.

The whole exchange had taken less than ten breaths.

“Bout one to the Young Lord Qu,” Ke Lianshu said, and bowed to the man in the sand. “Please accept the household’s burn ointment, Young Master He.”

The galleries roared.

“One move! He didn’t even take his coat off!”

“Sixty-fourth on the Tianxing. That’s the Azure Sun for you.”

Qu Ming passed the candidates’ rail on his way down, his head turned away from Shi Feng, though his pace slowed as he drew level.

Shi Feng wasn’t watching Qu Ming. He was looking at the ring.

The stone where the sun had fallen was scorched black in a circle. But the circle wasn’t even. It was dark at the centre and thin at the edges, and thinnest toward the highest gallery.

“Three breaths with his hand raised,” Shi Feng said quietly. “He wanted everyone to see it gather. Look at the scorch. The fire’s strongest directly beneath him; it thins toward the edge. There’s room to move if you get clear of the centre.”

“Are you going to tell him that?” Cheng Mobai asked.

“No,” Shi Feng said. “I’m going to remember it. He’s in the bracket too, if we both get that far.”

Ji Yuanhe looked at the scorched circle for a long time, and his lips moved.

“Three,” Ji Yuanhe said. “Three breaths to light.”

“That’s right,” Shi Feng said.

On the highest gallery, behind the gauze screen, Shen Yaoqing set down her cup.

She wore the plain blue robe of the Serene Jade, with a sword on her back and a white jade tassel on its hilt. The brazier beside her chair hadn’t been lit. She didn’t need it. A Shattering Void cultivator didn’t feel winter unless she chose to.

“Showy,” Shen Yaoqing said.

Long Caili sat beside her, veiled in pale gauze, turning the pages of a ledger. She didn’t look up.

“Showy men are useful,” Long Caili said, “until the day they aren’t.”

“And when is that?” Shen Yaoqing asked.

“When he can’t deliver what he promises,” Long Caili said, turning another page. “Azure Sun has eleven furnace halls in the capital. Recruiting him brings those halls within reach. I’m considering that as well as his fighting.”

Shen Yaoqing looked down at the candidates’ rail. Most of the young men there were still staring after Qu Ming. One of them was looking at the floor of the ring instead. The stall boy. Beside him, the old attendant was nodding.

“Your clerk’s mistake didn’t watch the fire,” Shen Yaoqing said. “He watched where it landed.”

“I saw,” Long Caili said.

She closed the ledger and looked down.

“He draws Tang Mingyu,” Shen Yaoqing said. “The Tang’s lot.”

“The Tang will test him thoroughly,” Long Caili said. “If he fails, he leaves and I keep the bond. If he wins, we’ll know the clerk admitted someone worth watching.”

At noon, Ke Lianshu came to the rail with a fresh sheet and bowed over it.

“A small change to the order, honoured candidates,” Ke Lianshu said. “Bouts two to six this afternoon. Bouts eight to twelve tomorrow. Bout seven will be held alone, on the third day.” He bowed again, lower. “At the Tang family’s request, so that the family’s elders may attend. This humble steward apologises, Master Shi.”

“They want an audience for it,” Cheng Mobai said under his breath.

Tang Wenbo came out of the east gallery and bowed to Ke Lianshu with his wooden abacus under one arm.

“The family asks one thing more, Chief Steward,” Tang Wenbo said. “An old rite before the bout. Water from our home river, poured along the east edge of the ring, and the shop’s founding year read out with the three generations.”

Ke Lianshu wrote the line under bout seven and bowed. “The household grants it. Water, a reading, and the ring swept after.”

From the far end of the rail, Tang Mingyu laughed. He stood among four Tang retainers, rolling a gold bead between two fingers.

“The third day, alchemist!” Tang Mingyu called. “My family’s coming to watch. Bring your purse. This young master charges for lessons.”

“I’ve seen one of your family’s lessons already,” Shi Feng called back. “The pill label was wrong. I hope you’ve prepared better for this.”

The candidates laughed. Tang Mingyu’s smile didn’t move.

“They’ve arranged the opponent and the day,” Shi Feng said to Cheng Mobai. “Now they have two more days to prepare. I’d like to know what else they’re planning.”