Chapter 792 — The Grand Warden’s Rules

CHAPTER 792

The Grand Warden’s Rules

“Silence for the Grand Warden!”

The herald’s shout rolled down the slope, and eight days of waiting ended at the Antler Gate.

The gate stood a day’s ride east of Tianjing, two great antlers of carved white stone that met at the top forty feet above the road. On either side of it the Long array wall ran away over the hills as far as anyone could see, a faint gold shimmer in the morning air. Beyond the wall lay the Qilin Ridge Preserve, dark with pines.

Sixteen banners waited on the trampled field before the gate, each with its hunters standing under its flag. Behind them, held back by ropes and soldiers, half the capital seemed to have come out to watch.

On the gate’s stone platform, an old man in Long yellow unrolled a scroll. His beard was white and short, and the pressure coming off him made the front row of the crowd step back without knowing why.

“That’s Grand Warden Long Hengjie,” someone whispered. “Shattering Void.”

“He’s run the Hunt for forty years!”

“They say he once tied a Shattering Void-grade beast to the gate by its own tail.”

The Grand Warden didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.

“The ground,” Long Hengjie read. “The Qilin Ridge Preserve has three rings. The Silver-Pine Ring, outside, holds Soul Formation-grade beasts. The Mist Marsh, in the middle, holds Deity Transformation-grade beasts. The Old Crater, at the centre, holds Shattering Void-grade beasts and the Crater Lake. Its gate opens only at dusk on the sixth day.”

He turned the scroll.

“The score. Beast cores, weighed by grade at the Tally Pavilion at noon on the seventh day. The Tianji Mansion keeps the tally. The old law of the Hunt stands: what is hunted belongs to whoever carries it out.” Long Hengjie looked up over the scroll at the sixteen banners. “The weak are meat, and the strong eat. Take another banner’s cores, if you can. The law allows it. The law also allows them to take them back.”

A rumble of laughter ran through the crowd.

“Each hunter carries a jade token,” Long Hengjie went on. “Crush it, and a beacon lights. My wardens will come and fetch you, and you are out of the Hunt. Kill a hunter, and your whole banner is struck from the tally, and the killer answers to Long law.” He let that sit for a moment. “Anything found inside the Old Crater belongs to the finder, and does not count toward the tally. The winning banner’s lord takes the Emperor’s first pick of the Inner Treasury tier, and the right to speak first at the next court audience. That is all.”

He began to roll the scroll up.

Under the princess’s pale gold banner, Shi Feng raised his hand.

The whole front of the field turned to look at him. Long Hengjie lowered the scroll.

“Speak,” Long Hengjie said, looking toward the raised hand.

“A question about the cores, Grand Warden,” Shi Feng said politely. “If a hunter eats one, does it still count?”

For a moment there was complete silence on the field.

“Eats one?” someone in the Situ banner said loudly. “Is he serious?”

“A Soul Formation-grade core would burn his stomach out!”

“That’s the princess’s alchemist. He probably thinks it’s a pill.”

“…”

Long Hengjie looked at Shi Feng for a long time. He didn’t laugh.

“In forty years,” Long Hengjie said slowly, “nobody has ever asked me that.”

“Then what’s the answer?” Shi Feng asked.

“A core is weighed on the scale,” Long Hengjie said. “Not in a man’s belly. If it isn’t on my scale at noon on the seventh day, it doesn’t count.” He paused. “Young man, if you can eat one and stand up afterwards, the Hunt will have bigger worries than its tally.”

“Thank you, Grand Warden,” Shi Feng said, and bowed. “That’s very clear.”

The Grand Warden rolled up his scroll and walked off the platform. Behind him, the herald announced that the gate would open at dawn tomorrow, and the crowd broke into a hundred conversations at once.

Under the array wall, where the slope met the road, the odds-sellers had set out their boards.

There were seven of them, each with a slate on a stand and a boy with a string of coppers. All seven slates listed the sixteen banners in order. The Third Prince’s banner was first on every one. The Azure Sun was second or third. The princess’s banner was ninth on all seven.

Shi Feng stopped in front of the nearest slate and read it with interest.

“Ninth,” Shi Feng said. “Why ninth?”

The odds-seller was a fat man in a sweat-stained cap, and he grinned at the question.

“Her Highness is first on the Tianxing, young master,” the odds-seller said cheerfully. “Everybody knows that. But banner lords don’t hunt. They sit on the stand and drink tea. So we look at the hunters.” He tapped the slate. “Her Highness has a good archer and a strong body cultivator, but she’s also got an alchemist on it. An alchemist! Ninth is generous.”

“What do you pay if she wins?” Shi Feng asked.

“Forty to one,” the odds-seller said. “And I’ll sleep well tonight.”

Shi Feng took ten silver out of his sleeve and laid it on the board.

“The princess,” Shi Feng said. “Write my name clearly. You’ll need it when you pay me.”

The odds-seller burst out laughing, wrote the slip and handed it over.

“Every year somebody bets on his own banner, young master,” the odds-seller said. “Every year I buy a new cap with it.”

“Keep enough aside to pay the four hundred silver,” Shi Feng said, folding the slip. “I’ll bring this back myself if we win.”

The odds-seller was still laughing when Shi Feng walked away.

He went back up the slope toward the princess’s tent. Ke Lianshu was waiting outside it with the banner’s roster in both hands. Shi Feng approached with the betting slip still in his hand. Ke Lianshu was not smiling or apologising to passing nobles this time. Something had gone wrong, and Shi Feng put the slip away to listen.

“Master Shi,” Ke Lianshu said quietly, and bowed lower than usual. “Please come inside. The banner has four hunters on the sheet. It was meant to have five.”