Chapter 788 — The Signing

CHAPTER 788

The Signing

Three million.

Shi Feng read the number twice, the way he’d read clause nine. It didn’t change.

“Three million,” Cheng Mobai said hoarsely. “For one man. Three million… Heaven doesn’t drop meat pies, and one just landed on his head.”

“Is it enough?” Long Caili asked. Her veil stirred faintly as she spoke.

“It’s more than I’d have asked for,” Shi Feng said.

“Then you should have asked,” Long Caili said coolly. “Now you’ll never know how much more I’d have paid.”

She signed at the bottom of the sheet in one stroke and pressed her seal beside it. The seal was red jade, carved with a coiled dragon, and the ink glowed faintly gold for a moment. A princess’s seal under Long law was bond enough.

Shi Feng signed his own name beside hers, in ink.

The doors at the far end of the hall opened.

Nobody announced him. A tall man in a plain blue-grey robe stepped in alone and stopped just past the threshold, his hands folded in his sleeves. He wore no jade and brought no guards.

Ke Lianshu dropped to his knees so fast his sleeves slapped the floor. The servants by the wall went down after him.

“Your Highness the First Prince,” Ke Lianshu said into the tiles.

Shen Yaoqing rose and bowed. Gu Yanxing bowed deeply. Cheng Mobai simply stopped moving.

Then the pressure came. It didn’t strike. It settled on the hall like snow on a roof, and nobody could have said how heavy it was, only that it was heavier with every breath. A teacup chattered on its saucer. Shi Feng’s burned arm began to ache under the bandage.

“Eldest Brother,” Long Caili said. She didn’t rise.

“Fourth Sister,” Long Jingtian said. He glanced at the signed sheet on her chair, then studied Shi Feng for a long time.

Shi Feng met his eyes and kept meeting them. It was harder than standing in Qu Ming’s fire.

“This is the one,” Long Jingtian said. It wasn’t a question.

“This is the one,” Long Caili said.

Long Jingtian nodded once, turned and went out the way he had come. The weight left the hall as slowly as it had arrived.

“The First Prince,” Cheng Mobai whispered. “Late Profound Heaven, and he walked here without a single guard.”

“He doesn’t need one,” Gu Yanxing said. “And while he lives, neither does she.”

“Steward Ke,” Long Caili said. “Get up. Bring it.”

Ke Lianshu carried a long, narrow box of pale wood with both hands.

“Before the fee,” Long Caili said. “Before the sword. You came to my pavilion for a lotus, I’m told. Take it first.”

Ke Lianshu set the box down and opened it.

The Quiet Soul Lotus lay on white silk, the colour of moonlight on water. Even across the table, Shi Feng felt its calming effect. After the pressure from Long Jingtian, the relief was immediate.

He leaned over it and counted.

Seven petals. Each one was whole and good. There was a gap at the crown where two more should have been, and there never had been.

Two short, Shi Feng thought. It was a fine lotus, and it wasn’t enough.

He closed the box gently.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Shi Feng said, and meant it.

Long Caili watched him over the box. She’d seen him count. She didn’t ask.

The rest came in order, with an apology from Ke Lianshu before each item.

Three million in stone notes. The 500,000 bond, returned in the same envelope it had been paid in. An allotment from Her Highness’s vaults of Shattering Void-grade herbs and Deity Transformation pills, “for the Imperial Hunt, and for whatever comes after it,” Ke Lianshu read, and bowed. Last of all, the lacquered box with the blue silk manual.

“The Falling Star Sword,” Ke Lianshu said. “The champion’s gift. Master Shi, please accept it.”

Shi Feng took the manual in both hands and put it in his ring without opening it.

Down the table, Cheng Mobai finally signed his name beside his thumbprint. Gu Yanxing pricked his thumb without a word and pressed it to the red paper. The gold flashed and faded.

Then Gu Yanxing straightened, looked at the red paper under his thumb, and looked at the white sheet in front of Shi Feng.

“I would rather have your contract,” Gu Yanxing said.

There was no envy in it.

“Then win the next one,” Shi Feng said, smiling at Gu Yanxing’s bluntness. “Argue over your terms before you sign. Don’t wait until the blood’s on the paper.”

Cheng Mobai laughed out loud. Gu Yanxing’s face didn’t move, but he nodded once, as if he’d been given a reasonable price.

“Next year, then,” Gu Yanxing said.

On the dais, Shen Yaoqing rose and walked out of the hall without speaking to anyone. Long Caili didn’t look round as she went.

That evening, in the Willow Ford courtyard, Shi Feng set the pale box on the table under the lamp and opened it.

Ji Yuanhe sat down very slowly across from him.

He looked at the lotus for a long time. His lips moved, and Shi Feng knew he was counting the petals.

“Seven,” Ji Yuanhe said at last.

“Seven,” Shi Feng agreed. “It’s a good lotus, Master Ji. But it can only steady. Your soul’s been cracked for years. The cure wants the nine-petal kind, and this one is two petals short of it.”

Ji Yuanhe looked up.

“Then it was for nothing,” Ji Yuanhe said quietly. “The whole contest.”

“No,” Shi Feng said firmly. “This is the base of the pill, and we needed it too. The nine-petal lotus is still missing, but that doesn’t make this one useless. I didn’t fight through the contest for nothing, Master Ji.”

Ji Yuanhe looked down at the seven petals again. Slowly, his hands unclenched on the table.

“Where does a nine-petal one grow?” Ji Yuanhe asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Shi Feng said. “But a princess just put her vaults behind me, and soon I’ll know a great deal more than I do tonight.”

He closed the box and put it in his ring beside the stone notes.

[Cash: about 10.0M | Gain: 3,000,000 fee, 500,000 bond returned | Note: Orchard herbs still unsold; seven-petal Quiet Soul Lotus held, two short.]

At the courtyard wall, Auntie Niu’s voice came over the top of it, loud enough for the whole lane.

“Master Shi! Is it true? Three million? Then you’ll be paying for the burnt buns properly now, won’t you?”