Chapter 860 — An Objection Already Filed

CHAPTER 860

An Objection Already Filed

The Ninefold Tower opened its doors at the first bell, and Shi Feng was on the steps when it did.

The Sky Pavilion’s capital tower was as busy as ever. Buyers went up to the auction floors. Couriers ran in and out with sacks. A row of Pavilion attendants in grey stood just inside the doors and bowed to everyone who came through them, rich or poor, exactly the same.

“Honoured guest. Welcome to the Ninefold Tower,” the nearest attendant said, bowing.

Ji Yuanhe walked a step behind him with his hands in his sleeves. He’d been quiet since they left the courtyard.

“Young Lord Qu swore at the gate,” Ji Yuanhe said at last. “In front of fifty people. No desk will ever stamp you while an Azure Sun elder breathes.”

“I remember,” Shi Feng said.

“He’ll have run straight to his grandfather,” Ji Yuanhe said, keeping his voice low as they entered.

“Probably before he changed his robe,” Shi Feng agreed. “We’ll see what’s at the desk first.”

The Records Hall was on the fourth floor. The 3 Mark desk had its usual crowd of forty tickets. The 4 Mark desk had a keeper reading a jade slip, who rose and bowed as they passed. The 5 Mark desk stood at the far end of the hall, under a long window, with a single clerk behind it in a grey robe with silver cuffs.

The clerk rose before Shi Feng reached the desk and bowed deeply.

“Master Shi. Good morning,” the clerk said. “How may the Pavilion serve you?”

“A sitting form for the 5 Mark, please,” Shi Feng said.

“Of course, Master Shi,” the clerk replied, reaching for the forms.

The clerk took a long sheet of heavy paper from a drawer, smoothed it flat and turned it to face him. Then he took a second paper from a different drawer. He held it for a moment before he set it down, and bowed again, a little lower than before.

“Master Shi, the Pavilion apologises,” the clerk said. “It’s the Pavilion’s duty to inform every candidate of any document lodged against his name. This was lodged at dawn this morning, by the Azure Sun Sect.”

Shi Feng picked it up.

It was a formal objection, written in a fine, upright hand on red-edged Azure Sun paper. It objected to any sitting of the 5 Mark by the 4 Mark Shi Feng. It listed its grounds in order. First, that he had held the 4 Mark for less than one year. Second, that he belonged to no sect, and no recognised elder stood surety for his conduct. Third, that his conduct in the capital, including violence at the gate of a pavilion, did not befit the register.

At the bottom was a seal in red, and a signature under it.

Qu Hanshan.

Ji Yuanhe read it over his shoulder and drew in a sharp breath.

“Violence at the gate,” Ji Yuanhe said. “His grandson attacked you.”

“His grandson wrote the third line,” Shi Feng said. “His grandfather wrote the first two. You can see the difference in the brush.”

He read it through once more. Then he held out his hand to the clerk.

“May I borrow a brush?” Shi Feng asked, holding the objection flat on the desk.

The clerk’s eyes went to the objection, then back to Shi Feng. He hesitated but didn’t ask what Shi Feng meant to write on the objection. He dipped a brush and handed it over with both hands.

Shi Feng leaned over the desk. In the first line, the Azure Sun’s writer had put down his name, and the second character of it was wrong. It was a character that sounded the same and meant something else.

He struck it through with one neat line and wrote the right one beside it.

“There,” Shi Feng said, and handed back the brush. “If they’re going to object to me, they ought to object to the right man. Otherwise someone will throw it out on a technicality, and they’ll only have to write it again.”

Ji Yuanhe stared at him.

The clerk took the corrected objection in both hands, looked at the new character, and set it carefully back in its drawer.

“The Pavilion thanks Master Shi for his diligence,” the clerk said, with a perfectly straight face.

Shi Feng drew the sitting form toward him and looked down it. Name. Mark held. Mark declared. Fees. A long line at the bottom for the date.

“One question,” Shi Feng said. “Is this one form for each Mark? Or does one form serve any declaration?”

The clerk paused for half a breath. He was too well trained to ask why.

“One form serves any declaration, Master Shi,” the clerk said.

“Good,” Shi Feng said.

He folded the form and put it into his sleeve, next to the tooth he still hadn’t thrown away. Ji Yuanhe watched the form disappear into his sleeve. The old man was uneasy; he still hadn’t been told which Mark Shi Feng meant to declare.

Shi Feng turned back to the clerk with a pleasant smile.

“Now,” Shi Feng said. “Where does the queue start?”