Chapter 891 — The Teahouse Claim

CHAPTER 891

The Teahouse Claim

“Bought,” Qu Ming said, and slammed his cup down on the table. “Every cloud of it.”

The Tower Street teahouse was the busiest in the capital, and today it was packed to the stairs. Wine, fried duck, and too many people in one room. Qu Ming had taken the whole upper floor. Twelve sect sons sat around him in silk, from the Azure Sun, two Cangming houses and a pair of minor Tang cousins, and every one of them was drinking on his money.

The young lord of the Azure Sun didn’t look well. His red robe was creased, and his eyes were bloodshot. He’d been drinking since the Glass Hall closed.

“First, the herbs,” Qu Ming said loudly, so the floor below could hear. “Where does a frontier cook get Profound Heaven herbs in a city where my family bought every one? From the princess’s vault. Her own Inner Treasury pick!”

The floor below had gone quiet to listen.

“That’s true,” a Cangming son said. “Everyone knows that.”

“Second, the notaries.” Qu Ming held up two fingers. “Xuanyuan Gui sat in the Imperial seat for the first time in his life. Why that sitting? And who did he speak to after? Her!”

“No wind, no waves,” a Tang cousin muttered, nodding.

“Third, the glass,” Qu Ming said. “Clouds that vanish? A clear sky, and then they call it a pass? My grandfather’s pill died that exact way, and nobody stood up for him! The glass was rigged, and the princess paid for the—”

“Young Lord,” the Azure Sun steward said from the top of the stairs.

He was grey-haired and very pale, and he held a red envelope sealed with a sun. Qu Ming’s mouth stayed open. The twelve sect sons went quiet.

“The Elder’s order,” the steward said. “The young lord leaves the capital for the sect when the carriage is ready. The carriage will be ready tomorrow.”

Qu Ming stared at the envelope for a long time. Then he took it, broke it, and read the single line inside.

He laughed. It was a high, thin laugh, and nobody at the table joined in.

“He bowed,” Qu Ming said to no one. “Grandfather bowed to him in front of the whole hall, and now I’m the one being sent home.”

He poured himself another cup. His hand shook, and half the wine went on the table. One of the Tang cousins moved his sleeve out of the way.

Ke Lianshu read the report aloud at the princess’s table that evening, from a slip of paper written in three different hands.

“The teahouse claim spread through four wards by sunset, Highness,” Ke Lianshu said. “Most people laughed at it. Some didn’t. The Azure Sun’s order to the young lord came within the same hour.”

“How did the order become public?” Long Caili asked from behind her veil.

“The steward read it aloud on the stairs,” Ke Lianshu said. “In front of everyone.”

“Then Qu Hanshan wanted it public,” Long Caili said. “He’s telling the city the Azure Sun didn’t say any of it. Only his grandson did.”

She sat at the head of the table, in the upper hall of the Phoenix Tail Pavilion, with tea in front of her that had gone cold. Shen Yaoqing sat at her right hand. Shi Feng sat at the far end with a bowl of noodles, because nobody had fed him since noon.

“Do you mean to answer him?” Long Caili asked, without looking down the table.

“Answer what?” Shi Feng said. “Everything he said is half true. The herbs were yours. Master Xuanyuan did sit. The sky did clear. He just put them in the wrong order.”

“That isn’t an answer,” Long Caili said.

“It’s the only one I’ve got,” Shi Feng said. “If I go to the teahouse and argue, it becomes a quarrel between a 6 Mark and a drunk. People will remember the quarrel and forget the register. I’d rather they remember the register.”

Long Caili turned her cup slowly on the table.

“A man who is leaving should leave quietly,” Shen Yaoqing said coldly. It was the first thing she’d said all evening.

Both of them looked at her.

“That’s all,” Shen Yaoqing said. She picked up her own tea.

“He won’t,” Shi Feng said.

He put his chopsticks down.

“He’s lost the contest, the Hunt, the price on your master and now the sitting,” Shi Feng said. “If he goes home after one night of shouting in a teahouse, he goes home having lost to a rumour. He can’t bear that. He’ll come here before the carriage is ready, and he’ll come to my face.”

“Here,” Long Caili repeated.

“To your gate,” Shi Feng said. “Where the street can see. It’s the only stage he’s got left.”

Long Caili was silent for a moment.

“Ke Lianshu,” Long Caili said. “Double the gate guard tomorrow.”

“No,” Shi Feng said. “Leave the gate as it is. If your guards stop him, he’ll tell the sect that the princess hid her alchemist behind spears. Let him come all the way.”

Ke Lianshu looked at the princess. The princess looked at Shi Feng.

“Leave the gate as it is,” Long Caili said at last. “But if he burns my lintel, it’s on your bill.”

“Agreed,” Shi Feng said, and picked up his noodles again.

Shen Yaoqing watched him eat. Her face didn’t change, but she didn’t look away either.

The next morning, the Phoenix Tail Pavilion opened its doors at the usual hour. A line of buyers stood in the street as usual, and twice as many people stood behind them who weren’t buying anything.

At the end of the street stood an Azure Sun carriage, with its horses harnessed.

And coming up the street toward the gate, with twelve sect sons behind him and his sleeves rolled to the elbow, was Qu Ming.