Chapter 832 — The Marriage Price

CHAPTER 832

The Marriage Price

“This old man will say it once more, so that nobody can claim later that they misheard,” Qu Hanshan said.

The pavilion’s main hall had been swept twice that morning. Long Caili sat at the head of it behind a low tea table, veiled from brow to chin. Shen Yaoqing sat on her left in white, with a jade lotus pinned at her collar. Qu Hanshan sat across from them both in his red robe, and Qu Ming stood behind his grandfather’s chair, smiling.

Shi Feng stood by the wall with his hands in his sleeves. As the princess’s alchemist he was allowed in the hall. Nobody had said he was allowed to speak.

“Elder Ye Wanqiu of the Serene Jade Sect has a void wound,” Qu Hanshan said. “Her physicians have tried for eight months.”

“This old man will refine the Void-Mending Pill for her,” Qu Hanshan went on, “with the Azure Sun’s own ingredients and in front of witnesses. In return, the Serene Jade chief disciple will be betrothed to my grandson, Qu Ming.”

He said the price again, slower, for the clerks at the side table: one Perfect pill at the 5 Mark, against the Serene Jade’s chief disciple. He waited until both brushes stopped.

“So my clerks can write it down,” Qu Hanshan said.

He folded his hands on his knee.

“Your sect has already been informed, Chief Disciple Shen,” Qu Hanshan said. “They raised no objection.”

The hall was silent. Shi Feng watched Shen Yaoqing. She hadn’t moved since the old man began. Only her hand, closed on the table, had gone white at the knuckles.

“Refine it first,” Shen Yaoqing said.

That was all.

Qu Ming’s smile grew a little wider, as if she’d said yes.

“Naturally,” Qu Hanshan said. “My furnace will speak for me. The day after tomorrow, in this hall, if Your Highness permits.”

Long Caili poured for him, then for Shen Yaoqing, then for herself. In the princess’s hall, a poured cup meant permission.

Qu Hanshan drank. Then his eyes moved to the wall.

“And this is the frontier 4 Mark,” Qu Hanshan said. “The one who beat my grandson in Your Highness’s contest.”

Every head in the hall turned. Qu Ming’s smile stayed where it was, but the skin around his eyes tightened.

Shi Feng bowed politely.

“Just a 4 Mark, Grandmaster,” Shi Feng said. “Only lucky in the contest.”

“A 4 Mark at your age,” Qu Hanshan said. “This old man was twenty-nine.” He set his cup down. “Keep it on your own furnace, and you’ll keep it a long time.”

It was a warning all the same. Shi Feng bowed again and said nothing.

Qu Hanshan rose, and the meeting was over.

Qu Ming caught up with him in the long corridor that ran past the east wing.

The young lord of the Azure Sun walked as if he owned the corridor.

“Master Shi,” Qu Ming said pleasantly. “A word.”

Shi Feng stopped.

“I hear you live in the princess’s courtyard now,” Qu Ming said. “Eating her rice. Fetching her pills. Signing her clauses.” He shook his head. “I don’t blame you. But a man who has to work for a living should know his place at a betrothal.”

“Which place is that?” Shi Feng asked.

“By the wall,” Qu Ming said. “With his mouth shut. Like this morning.”

At the corridor door, an Azure Sun disciple had stopped to wait for his master and had not gone on. He made no pretence of being busy.

Shi Feng looked at Qu Ming, then cupped his fists and bowed, warmly and properly.

“Congratulations, Young Lord Qu,” Shi Feng said.

Qu Ming blinked. “For what?”

“On being sold at such a good price,” Shi Feng said. “Your grandfather traded you for one pill. A Perfect pill at the 5 Mark is worth a great deal of money. Most men in this city would never fetch that much.”

“Of course,” Shi Feng went on, in the same helpful voice, “a sale only counts if the goods arrive. If the pill doesn’t hold, there’s no betrothal. Then you’ve been sold for nothing, in front of the whole capital. If I were you, I’d go and help him fan the fire.”

The disciple at the door had heard all of it. He was gone before Qu Ming turned.

Qu Ming’s face went red, and then darker than red.

The air in the corridor grew hot. A thin line of orange flame crawled along his sleeve. The Scorching Sun Flame. Shi Feng had seen it up close in the contest final. It hadn’t improved Qu Ming’s temper then either.

A pavilion steward appeared at the corridor’s far end, bowing.

“Young Lord Qu,” the steward said politely. “Please forgive this servant. The corridor is cedar, and very old. Her Highness is fond of it.”

The flame on Qu Ming’s sleeve went out.

“Fine,” Qu Ming said. He smoothed his sleeve with one hand. When he looked up again, the smile was back, and it was worse than before. “You’ll be buying tribulation herbs soon, I hear. Peak Deity Transformation. The whole pavilion can smell it on you.”

Shi Feng said nothing. Nobody had told Qu Ming his realm. The pressure of the coming tribulation had.

“Buy them carefully,” Qu Ming said. “The Azure Sun owns a third of the stalls on Herb Street. And our people love to shop.”

He walked away down the cedar corridor, and his footsteps didn’t hurry at all.

Shi Feng wasn’t angry. Qu Ming had told him something useful for free: tomorrow, somebody from the Azure Sun would be waiting on Herb Street.

“Good,” Shi Feng said to the empty corridor. “Then I’ll go early.”

He went back to the courtyard. Ji Yuanhe was in the small furnace room, scolding a horse pill.

“Tomorrow morning,” Shi Feng said from the doorway. “Herb Street. We’re buying four hundred thousand worth of lightning.”

Ji Yuanhe looked up. “Four hundred thousand? We have the money. Do we have the time?”

“We have ten days, minus one,” Shi Feng said. “And somebody’s already waiting for us there.”

“How do you know?” Ji Yuanhe asked.

“Because Qu Ming just told me,” Shi Feng said. “He’s very generous with information when he’s angry.”