Chapter 899 — Bills in Willow Ford

CHAPTER 899

Bills in Willow Ford

“No,” Auntie Niu said.

She didn’t even look at the silver. She was rolling dough on the board at the front of her stall, and she slapped it flat with the heel of her hand.

“Auntie, it’s for the tray,” Shi Feng said. “You broke it over a man’s head, and it saved Master Ji. That’s worth a new tray at the very least.”

“This old woman’s tray is fine,” Auntie Niu said. “It has a dent. The dent is from a kidnapper’s skull, so it’s the best tray on the lane now. Everybody wants to see it.” She pointed her rolling pin at him. “And you think I’d take money for buns I threw at a bad man? Put that away before the neighbours see it and laugh at me!”

Shi Feng put the silver away.

Then he took a small black jar out of his other sleeve and set it on the board beside the dough.

Auntie Niu looked at the jar suspiciously.

“What’s that?” Auntie Niu asked.

“Marrow pills,” Shi Feng said. “For Tiezhu.”

Niu Tiezhu sat on the stall’s step with his legs crossed and his eyes shut, breathing very loudly through his nose. His cheeks puffed out on every breath. A month ago a Pavilion tester had found eleven open meridians in him. He’d cultivated on that step every morning since, where the whole lane could see him do it.

“Tiezhu doesn’t need pills,” Auntie Niu said. “He’s only just started. What grade are they?”

“Soul Formation-grade,” Shi Feng said.

The rolling pin stopped in the air.

“SOUL FORMATION?” Auntie Niu shouted, and half the lane turned round. “The boy’s opened eleven meridians! Eleven! Are you trying to blow him up? Do you know what a jar like that costs? You could buy this whole lane with it!”

Shi Feng crouched in front of the step and put two fingers under Niu Tiezhu’s ribs.

“Out through the nose,” Shi Feng said. “Down past the ribs, not up into the chest.”

Niu Tiezhu breathed out. The puff went out of his cheeks, and his shoulders came down an inch.

Auntie Niu’s scolding stopped for one line.

At the next stall, two customers had turned to watch. One of them put a hand under his own ribs, feeling for the place. Shi Feng straightened.

“He isn’t to eat them now, Auntie,” Shi Feng said. “Not for years. Keep the jar sealed and put it somewhere dry. When he reaches Soul Formation he’ll need them, and I don’t know where I’ll be by then. This way they’re already here.”

Auntie Niu stared at him. Her face went red, and then it went redder.

“Overpaying,” Auntie Niu said. “Overpaying an old woman for a dented tray! You’ve got no sense, none at all. Who taught you to do business?”

“Several people,” Shi Feng said. “Most of them would be ashamed of me right now.”

She snatched the jar off the board and pushed it into the deepest pocket of her apron. Then she wrapped twelve buns in a cloth, and then six more, and shoved the bundle into his arms so hard that he stepped back.

“For the road,” Auntie Niu said fiercely. “Distant relatives are no match for near neighbours. Don’t you forget this lane.”

“I won’t, Auntie,” Shi Feng said.

Niu Tiezhu opened one eye.

“Big Brother, is Soul Formation far?” Niu Tiezhu asked.

“Very far,” Shi Feng said. “Keep breathing.”

Niu Tiezhu shut his eye and breathed louder.

Madam Liu Su received him in the same back room on Silk Lane, with the same sandalwood fan. The room was warm, and it smelled of tea and old coin.

“Your stake,” Liu Su said, and counted the coins out on the table. “Ten silver on yourself, in the 4 Mark book, at twenty to one. You left it with me a year.” Tap. “Two hundred silver.” Tap.

Shi Feng counted it twice, slowly, while she watched him do it.

“It’s all there,” Liu Su said.

“I’m sure it is, Madam,” Shi Feng said. “I still like to count for myself.” He swept the coins into a pouch.

The landlord of the Willow Ford courtyard came at noon. He was a thin, careful old man, and he walked through both rooms, the kitchen and the yard with his hands behind his back, like a man who expected to find something wrong.

He looked up at the roof. The tiles over the kitchen had cracked in the first frost. Now they were new, set in fresh mortar, and the gutter under them had been straightened.

He ran one finger along the new mortar.

“I didn’t ask for that,” the landlord said.

“I know,” Shi Feng said, and handed him the key. “It cracked while I lived here. That makes it mine to fix.”

The landlord turned the key over in his fingers. “Most tenants just leave.”

“I’m not just leaving,” Shi Feng said.

The landlord nodded slowly. For the first time since Shi Feng had known him, he smiled.

When he’d gone, the courtyard was empty except for the well, the willow and Ji Yuanhe, who was sitting on the rim of the well with his hands on his knees. The willow had lost most of its leaves. He had been sitting there all morning, and he hadn’t counted anything.

“I have something to tell you,” Ji Yuanhe said. “I would like you to hear all of it before you answer.”