Chapter 757 — Wine on the Third Floor

CHAPTER 757

Wine on the Third Floor

“Third floor, honoured guest,” the waiter said, bowing low. “Young Master Situ has been waiting since the second bell.”

The Drunken Crane stood on the North Canal, and its wine cost forty silver a jar. Shi Feng had come because the red card at his gate said “Wine” and nothing else, and because Situ Jinghong hadn’t approached him just to share a jar. Shi Feng wanted to hear what the Situ heir was asking.

The third floor was a single room with a single table by the window. Situ Jinghong sat there in a plain grey robe, a thin young man with a scholar’s hands and a smear of ink on the second finger of the right one. He was the Prime Minister’s grandson and 77th on the Hundred Famed Tianxing. The waiters walked past him on their toes.

“Master Shi.” Situ Jinghong rose and bowed, exactly as deep as one candidate to another and not a hair deeper. “Thank you for coming. I ordered the Autumn Pear. I hope it suits you.”

“I haven’t tried it,” Shi Feng said, sitting down. “You’ve already ordered. Let’s see.”

Situ Jinghong laughed quietly and poured for him with his own hand. That alone would have made half the officials in Tianjing faint.

“The banquet was very fine work,” Situ Jinghong said. “Eleven candidates looked at the woman on the floor. You looked at the guard who was still standing. And then the lotus. My grandfather’s clerks say the Tang lost two hundred thousand on flowers in a single morning.”

“The Tang bought too many flowers,” Shi Feng said.

“So they did,” Situ Jinghong said, turning his cup slowly. “Master Shi, I’ll speak plainly, since you seem to like it. The Lake Stage bracket is drawn in three days. Eight names, four bouts. The lots go into a box, and the box passes through a great many hands before it reaches the princess’s table.”

“Chief Steward Ke’s hands,” Shi Feng said.

“Among others. The Imperial Clan Court has asked to witness the draw,” Situ Jinghong said with a smile. “My family has a great many friends in the Clan Court. We have a great many friends everywhere. It’s a family of clerks.”

Shi Feng drank. The Autumn Pear really was good. It would be a shame to waste it.

“And?” Shi Feng asked.

“And it would be a pity if the two strongest men in the contest wore each other out in the first round,” Situ Jinghong said gently. “Opposite halves of the bracket. We meet in the final, if we meet at all. Until then, each of us walks an easy road.”

“The two strongest,” Shi Feng repeated. “Qu Ming will be upset to hear that.”

“Young Lord Qu is very strong,” Situ Jinghong said. “He’s also very loud. Those aren’t the same thing.”

He dismissed Qu Ming without a trace of anger. Situ Jinghong wasn’t boasting about beating him; he simply didn’t consider the young lord the chief obstacle. Shi Feng put his cup down.

This man had just offered to rig a princess’s contest, in a public wine house, over a forty-silver jar. And he hadn’t raised his voice once.

“What would the Situ family want for that?” Shi Feng asked.

Situ Jinghong smiled. He refilled both cups, and he said nothing at all.

“Nothing?” Shi Feng asked.

“Nothing yet,” Situ Jinghong said. “Between friends, accounts can wait.”

“Then keep the box honest,” Shi Feng said. “I’ll fight whoever comes out of it.”

For the first time, Situ Jinghong’s hand stopped on the jar. Then it moved again, and his smile didn’t change by a hair.

“You don’t trust me, Master Shi?” Situ Jinghong asked.

“I don’t know you,” Shi Feng said. “You haven’t said what your family wants. If your friends can move the box for me, they can move it against me. I’ll choose my own allies and face the opponent I draw.” He stood up and bowed, one candidate to another. “Thank you. It was very good.”

“Think it over,” Situ Jinghong said calmly. “There are three days. One more friend, one more road.”

Shi Feng didn’t answer that. He went down the stairs.

On the second-floor landing, a thin, pale official in the robe of the Imperial Clan Court was coming up. It was Inspector Nie Liyan, who had once tried to throw him out of the contest for having no sponsor. The inspector stepped aside at once and bowed politely.

“Master Shi. What a coincidence,” Nie Liyan said politely.

“Inspector,” Shi Feng said. “The third floor’s wine is very good. Try the Autumn Pear.”

Nie Liyan’s face didn’t change. He went on up the stairs.

Ji Yuanhe was sitting on the Willow Ford step with the account book on his knees when Shi Feng came back. Auntie Niu was shouting at a customer next door about the price of pork buns.

“You smell of good wine,” Ji Yuanhe said. “Was it a commission?”

“It was a gift,” Shi Feng said, and sat down beside him. “The Situ heir offered to fix the bracket so he and I don’t meet until the final.”

Ji Yuanhe stopped his brush. “For how much?”

“For nothing. Yet,” Shi Feng said, watching the lane for a moment. “Then the Clan Court inspector walked up the stairs to the same room as I walked down them.”

“So you said no,” Ji Yuanhe said.

“I said no,” Shi Feng said, taking the book to check the day’s line. “He wants me committed before he asks for anything. Then refusing him would look ungrateful. I’d rather refuse now, while he’s done nothing for me.”

Ji Yuanhe thought about it, then wrote something small in the margin of the book.

“What’s that?” Shi Feng asked.

“Situ,” Ji Yuanhe said. “Unpaid. Amount unknown.”

Shi Feng laughed. Then he stopped laughing, because a Situ servant in grey was walking down the lane toward them with a jar of Autumn Pear in both arms, and a red card tied to its neck.