Chapter 771 — The Third Bend

CHAPTER 771

The Third Bend

The Lake Stage stood in the middle of the princess’s lake, at the end of its narrow bridge. On the shore the crowd was packed so tight that boys had climbed every willow for a view.

Above the shore rose the pavilion’s gallery. At its top, on the princess’s balcony, Long Caili sat in dark gold, veiled from brow to chin in pale gauze, with Shen Yaoqing beside her. Inspector Nie Liyan of the Imperial Clan Court sat two seats away with a copy of the ring law open on his knee.

“A towel thrown is a bout ended. A flame after the gong is a forfeit. The Clan Court will judge any breach,” Nie Liyan read slowly, rising before the first bout. He waited for the seconds to acknowledge the rule before sitting down again.

Shi Feng stood on the seconds’ step on Cheng Mobai’s side with a white towel over his arm.

“Isn’t that the stall boy?”

“He’s standing second for the swordsman?”

“The one the watch took last night? I heard it was a misunderstanding.”

“With the Situ, it’s always a misunderstanding.”

Cheng Mobai finished the bun Shi Feng had bought him on the way and wiped his fingers on his trousers.

“If I win this, I’m buying you a whole tray,” Cheng Mobai said.

“Win it first,” Shi Feng said. “Don’t go straight at him. He’s fresh, and you’re not.”

Cheng Mobai grinned and went up the steps.

Qu Ming was already waiting on the stage in a red robe with a golden sun on the back. An Azure Sun disciple stood on the step on his side with a towel, holding it as if he’d never need it.

“The thief made it out of his cell in time,” Qu Ming said loudly. “Did the stamp boy pay your bail, swordsman?”

Cheng Mobai said nothing. He drew his sword. The blade was bent in three places, like a branch that had grown around stones.

“Can a firefly’s light compete with the sun?” Qu Ming asked the crowd, and laughed.

Ke Lianshu struck the gong.

Qu Ming opened his right hand, and three suns rose out of it.

Each one was the size of a fist. They circled him slowly, and the heat came off them in waves. The black stone under his feet began to tick, and where the stage met the lake, the water steamed. The Scorching Sun Flame was the Azure Sun’s pride, and Qu Ming made it look easy.

Cheng Mobai went in anyway.

The Nine Bends Sword never came straight. The first bend took it low, under the nearest sun. The second turned it up toward Qu Ming’s ribs. The blade glowed red where it passed through the heat, but it didn’t slow.

Qu Ming flicked two fingers. Two suns came down at once.

Cheng Mobai twisted past the first. The second clipped his left arm, and the red patch on his sleeve burst into flame and was gone. He slapped it out against his side without stopping.

On the seconds’ step, Shi Feng’s hand tightened on the towel.

Cheng Mobai was half a beat slow on the second bend. His night in the cangue was costing him. Shi Feng watched the sword fail to turn quickly enough, angry that the false accusation had weakened him before he ever reached the stage. Qu Ming noticed too. On the next pass he didn’t guard the first bend at all. He set a wall of flame exactly where the second bend would come.

Cheng Mobai’s sword hit the wall and bounced off it in a shower of sparks.

“He’s done,” someone on the shore said. “He’s got nothing left.”

Cheng Mobai dropped his shoulder, as if the blow had numbed it. Then he skipped the rest of the second bend and went straight into the third.

It came from below and behind the line Qu Ming was guarding. It was the same bend Shi Feng had pointed out, out loud, on the practice ground in the Ring round. Cheng Mobai had been listening.

The tip of the crooked sword opened Qu Ming’s left cheek from ear to jaw.

The crowd went silent. Then it exploded.

“He cut him! He cut the Azure Sun young lord!”

“First blood to the swordsman!”

“He’s late Deity Transformation and unranked! Qu Ming’s peak, and sixty-fourth on the Tianxing!”

“After a night in a cangue, too!”

“…That’s going to scar.”

Qu Ming stepped back. He raised his hand slowly and touched his cheek. His fingers came away red.

Qu Ming stared at his bloody fingers, furious. The unranked swordsman had cut his face in front of the princess and half the capital. Up in the gallery, Shen Yaoqing leaned forward, watching the suns rather than the wound.

Then the three suns circling Qu Ming went white.