Chapter 790 — Under Her Banner

CHAPTER 790

Under Her Banner

The east garden of the Phoenix Tail Pavilion was all bare plum trees and white gravel, with a single stone table under a roof of red tiles. Long Caili sat at the table, veiled as always in pale gauze, with a map unrolled in front of her. Shen Yaoqing stood at the garden’s edge with her back to them, looking at the plum trees.

“Sit,” Long Caili said.

Shi Feng sat. The map showed a long ridge of hills a day east of the capital, ringed by a single drawn wall.

“The Imperial Hunt opens in ten days,” Long Caili said. “Clause nine. You’ll enter under my banner.”

“I read clause nine twice,” Shi Feng said. “I just didn’t expect it to come due so soon.”

“Nothing in my household waits for a man to expect it,” Long Caili said.

She laid one finger on the map.

“Sixteen banners. Five hunters each, all under thirty,” Long Caili said. “The Grand Warden will read the rules at the gate, and he’ll read them very slowly, so I won’t. What you need to know today is this. Each of my brothers who is of age will field a banner, except the eldest. So will the Gu, the Situ, the Tang and the Jiang, and six of the sects.”

“And the Azure Sun,” Shi Feng said.

“And the Azure Sun,” Long Caili said. “Whatever is left of its young lord’s pride will be on that banner.”

Shi Feng looked at the ridge on the map.

“Who else is on yours?” Shi Feng asked.

“Gu Yanxing. Cheng Mobai, if his arm closes in time. Two more I haven’t chosen yet,” Long Caili said.

“Your household has Tianxing of its own,” Shi Feng said.

“More than you’d think,” Long Caili said. “Most are past thirty, and the Hunt won’t take them. The rest hold my pavilions, and I won’t pull them off the ledgers for a hunt. A house that only keeps what it has is already shrinking. That’s why I held a contest.” Her voice didn’t change at all. “My third brother says my banner is a merchant’s recruits. You heard what he called you.”

“A merchant’s champion,” Shi Feng said. “Cheap.”

“Yes,” Long Caili said. She waited to see whether the insult bothered him.

“Then let him watch your banner,” Shi Feng said. “He walked out before seeing any of us fight for you. He can judge what your three million bought after the Hunt.”

Long Caili looked at him for a long breath. Then she rolled up the map and tied it with a red cord.

“The Hunt doesn’t care who your grandfather is, or who your sponsor is,” Long Caili said. “It only cares what you carry out. A clerk’s mistake got you into my contest. A clerk’s mistake won’t help you in there.”

“I know,” Shi Feng said.

At the edge of the garden, Shen Yaoqing turned around.

She came back across the gravel toward the gate, which took her past the stone table. She didn’t stop. She slowed down only enough to look at him once, coldly, from his singed hair to his bandaged arm.

“Are you always this lucky?” Shen Yaoqing asked.

“No,” Shi Feng said. “I’d have preferred fewer burns. But I won, and I kept the promise I made before going onstage. I’m pleased with that much.”

Shen Yaoqing’s step hitched, very slightly.

Then she went on walking, out through the garden gate and away down the covered walk, and she didn’t look back.

Long Caili watched her go.

“She’s been watching your stall since the Stall round,” Long Caili said. “She says the view is good.”

“Is it?” Shi Feng asked.

“I wouldn’t know,” Long Caili said. “I only look at the ledger.” She stood up with the map under her arm. “Ten days. Don’t get killed before then. I’ve already paid for you.”

That night Shi Feng climbed onto the courtyard roof at Willow Ford with a lamp and the blue silk manual.

His stomach still ached. The burns on his arm had closed under Ji Yuanhe’s ointment and itched under the bandage. Down below, Ji Yuanhe was asleep on his bedding, not counting. Across the lane, the Niu stall was shuttered for the night.

He opened the Falling Star Sword.

The first page held only one figure, a man with his sword raised straight above his head. There was one line beneath it.

The star doesn’t push. It only falls.

Shi Feng read it twice. Every sword art he had learned so far moved force to the side, or went around it, or cut it in a line. This one didn’t go around anything. It came straight down from above, with everything behind it, and whatever stood under it had to hold it.

That would give him a direct strike when the other arts failed, Shi Feng thought. Qu Ming had forced him to redirect attack after attack. He wanted to be able to end the next fight sooner.

He turned the page.

“Master Shi!” Auntie Niu called over the wall, tossing a steaming cloth bundle onto the roof. It landed on the tiles beside him and rolled to a stop against the lamp.

“Four buns, two coppers each!” Auntie Niu shouted. “And a runner left that for you this evening, a very polite one in brown with antlers on his sleeve! The letter’s free. The buns aren’t!”

Shi Feng untied the bundle. Four buns sat on top. Underneath them lay a bronze tablet the size of his palm, warm from the buns, stamped with a pair of antlers and a single line of characters.

The Imperial Hunt. Qilin Ridge. The banner of Princess Long Caili. One hunter: Shi Feng.

He ate a bun and read it again.

Ten days, Shi Feng thought, and opened the manual back to its first page.