My Sect Is Down to Seven People

Chapter 261: Where Is the Pass?

At the Snake hour on the twenty-second, A Sui stood in the kitchen doorway sifting coarse grain through a bamboo sieve. The grain rattled and swished, and bran flew from the mesh, scattering in a pale layer beyond the threshold.

The sweeping over by the Mountain Gate stopped.

Xu Yan was in the Accounts Room, finishing his reconciliation of the twentieth's running ledger: one Market session bringing in a hundred pieces, ten Qi-Gathering Pills at eighty, thirty-five out for alchemy materials and charcoal. He laid the brush on the rim of the inkstone, rose, and came out to look.

Nie Bo's broom lay across the gateway, and he himself had stepped aside half a pace. Three people were coming up the mountain path: one in a blue robe at the front, two in short work clothes behind—one carrying a wooden box, the other a register, the register's strap still showing damp marks from frost melting off, swaying with every step.

Xu Yan walked to the Mountain Gate and stood just inside the threshold. "Rank Evaluator."

"Sect Master Xu." Wen Su halted. Her clothes hadn't gathered much dust, but her trouser hems were wet up past the ankles—dew from walking the mountain path. She held a water flask, handed it back to the clerk behind her, and stepped through the gateway.

There was no cart on the stretch of path behind her.

Everyone in the front courtyard stopped work. Shi Po's axe hung in the air, then came down with the force drawn back, splitting the firewood only a crack. Bai Xiaoman gathered her five stones into her palm and stood without moving. Huo Qing was under the eaves, the wooden target leaning against a pillar; he'd already pulled up and turned around. A Sui poked half her head out the kitchen doorway, bamboo sieve in her arms, A He tugging at her sleeve behind her. Jiang Wan came out from the East Courtyard and stood on the steps.

Qian Duoduo brought out a bowl of water, steam still rising from its rim, set it on the corner of the square table in the front courtyard, and backed off half a step.

Wen Su glanced at the bowl but didn't reach for it. "No need."

Qian Duoduo carried the bowl back into the kitchen and didn't dare come out again.

"Everyone on the mountain. Front courtyard. Now," Wen Su said.

Xu Yan told A He to call them. A He ran fast, from the kitchen to the Medicine Hall. The door curtain flipped open, and Cheng Banshan still had one hand on the herb sieve by the furnace; then the West Wing door creaked, and Shao Ming and Du Xiaochuan came out. One by one they formed up in the courtyard, standing on either side of the square table, no one crowding up to it.

The clerk with the box set it on the table and opened the lid. Old cloth lined the inside. Wen Su lifted out a sheet of paper and unfolded it with both hands. The paper was new, the ink fresh, and a vermilion seal pressed the lower right corner, its red still not settled into the fibers.

She didn't sit. She stood beside the table and read it aloud in the courtyard light:

"Dongzhou Branch Order: The Northern Wastes Beast Tide moves south. The sects near Luoxia Pass—Qingya, Chixiao, Ink Pool Gate, Willow Bank Gate, Azure Brook—each shall send men to hold the pass on the day the tide reaches beyond the pass, and hold until the tide turns north again. Before the tide arrives, Qingya Sect shall keep watch over the pass. Upon sighting the tide beyond the pass, report to the Branch clerk. At the pass, the highest-ranked Sect Master shall take command. Alliance Year 302, Tenth Month, Day 20. Dongzhou Branch."

When she read out the five sects, A Sui counted on her free hand from the kitchen doorway, and when she reached the fifth finger, a hand reached out from inside and stopped her.

After the reading, silence settled over the front courtyard.

Wind came through the gateway and thinned the ring of damp on the square table by one layer. Shi Po's axe finally came down, splitting the log in two; half rolled off the woodpile, and he bent to pick it up, very gently. Cheng Banshan stood at the Medicine Hall door, wine gourd in hand, its stopper still unpulled.

"Rank Evaluators handle pass-guarding now?" Xu Yan asked.

"This isn't my assignment," Wen Su said, squaring the paper between her fingers. "The Branch told me to come, so I came."

Xu Yan nodded and didn't press that point.

Shi Po, over by the woodpile, said quietly, "Where is the pass?"

No one in the front courtyard laughed. Xu Yan turned and asked the question properly: "Where is Luoxia Pass?"

The clerk with the register took half a step forward. He glanced at Wen Su first, then answered, "From Luoxia Town, take the main road north for twenty li. It's northwest of Qingya's Back Mountain."

"Once the tide reaches beyond the pass, who do we report to?"

Wen Su turned to the clerk. "Report to him. He's staying at the Luoxia Inn."

The clerk gave a quick acknowledgment. "Yes."

"What do we say when we report?" Xu Yan asked.

The clerk glanced at Wen Su again. Seeing she wasn't going to speak, he said, "If it's arrived, say it's arrived. The order doesn't specify anything else."

"How many people does Qingya send?"

Wen Su looked up from the paper. "The order doesn't say."

"Hold until the tide turns north—who decides whether it's turned north?"

"The order doesn't say that either."

"Has anyone held the pass before?"

This one she did answer. "Not in the order. I don't know."

"Anything else?" Xu Yan made it his last question.

"This is the whole of the order," Wen Su said.

She lined up the edges of the paper and held it out with both hands. "Sect Master Xu."

Xu Yan received it with both hands. "Understood."

The paper wasn't heavy. Its edges were stiff, and the seal made one spot thicker, pressing against his fingers.

Jiang Wan asked from the steps, "When does someone have to be at the pass?"

"The order says: on the day the tide reaches beyond the pass," Wen Su said.

"When does the tide arrive?"

"The order doesn't say."

Jiang Wan said nothing more. Her hands dropped to her sides, and she stepped back up onto the steps.

The box clerk shut the lid, fastened it, and took the box back into his arms. Wen Su started toward the Mountain Gate, stopped one step into the gateway, and looked back at the front courtyard: the Main Hall doors open, smoke seeping through the cracks of the newly papered windows at the Medicine Hall, the West Wing's water clock at the eaves dripping drop by drop onto the stone steps. She said nothing.

Xu Yan saw her off, stopping inside the gateway.

The clerk with the register walked last. He hitched the register up. "I'm at the Luoxia Inn. If anything comes up, send word."

"Mm," Xu Yan said.

At the Horse hour, the three figures descended the mountain path. The blue robe stayed visible for a while, then only flashed between the trees, and was gone. Nie Bo's broom started up again, stroke by stroke, from the screen wall to the gateway.

The afternoon on the mountain passed as usual. Shi Po put two more axe strokes into the log he hadn't split in the morning, then stacked the halves under the eaves, level with the rest of the pile. Bai Xiaoman laid out her five stones in the front courtyard; the fourth landed half a breath off, and she gathered them up to set them again. Huo Qing went back under the eaves to practice that single thrust, the divot in the target waiting for him as always. A Sui carried the sifted grain into the kitchen, carrying it crooked, spilling two grains past the threshold. Qian Duoduo scolded her and bent to pick them up himself.

After Bai Xiaoman finished setting her stones, she crouched at the edge of the ring and asked, "Sect Master, can a cart get up the road to the pass?"

"I don't know."

"How do we send supplies later, then?"

"We'll wait until someone's gone up to look." Xu Yan crouched down to study her five stones. "All in position?"

"The east one's still shallow by half a breath," Bai Xiaoman said. "I stamped it down with my foot."

Xu Yan went back to the Accounts Room, spread the order paper on the desk, read it again, pressed it under the paperweight beneath the ledger rack's crossboard as before, then came out and stood at the Medicine Hall door for a while. Cheng Banshan sat by the furnace, the wine gourd on his knee, its stopper pulled.

"Up on the North Slope," Xu Yan said, "anyone travel there in winter?"

"The herb gatherers go as far as the North Slope and turn back," Cheng Banshan said. "Beyond that there's no path."

"What's the slope like?"

"Pines, steep, thick pine needles underfoot. Frozen, it's easier going; when it thaws, it's slick." Cheng Banshan pressed the stopper back into the gourd's mouth. "Send someone up tomorrow to see for himself."

"Don't miss the twenty-eighth firing," Cheng Banshan added.

"I won't," Xu Yan said. "I'll be on the mountain the day the furnace is unloaded."

Lamp-lighting, the Main Hall.

Qian Duoduo set out thirteen pairs of chopsticks. Twelve people at the table. A Sui first carried a bowl to the low hut by the Mountain Gate, set it on the threshold, and only then came back to sit.

The meal was coarse-grain rice and a pot of vegetable soup, a few dried vegetable leaves floating on top. Halfway through, Xu Yan laid his chopsticks flat. "The order has Qingya watch the pass. Where it is, how to get there from the Back Mountain—that we need to know first."

Qi Qi set his bowl down. "I'll go."

"Nobody's gone beyond the North Slope," Jiang Wan said.

"I've walked that stretch from the West Gully to the North Slope. Three li," Cheng Banshan said. "Snow hasn't fallen. Easy going."

Shao Ming asked, "That slope—can he get down in winter?"

"If he can get up, he can get down," Cheng Banshan said.

Shi Po said, "I'll go with him."

"One man goes," Xu Yan said. "Look and come back. More people, slower."

"Tomorrow, Dragon hour," he added. "Out through the old herb garden, up along the West Gully."

Qi Qi gave a grunt of assent. "Mm."

"How many rooms at the pass, whether there's water," Shao Ming said, "tell us when you're back."

"Fine."

Qian Duoduo asked, "Take two flatbreads?"

"I'll be back by midday," Qi Qi said.

"Take them," Qian Duoduo said. "Tuck them inside your shirt. They'll be fine cold."

Jiang Wan set her bowl down. "When you come back, describe the route clearly. Which stretches are easy, which aren't. All of it."

Only then did A Sui ask, "Where is the Northern Wastes?"

"North," Qian Duoduo said.

"How far north?"

"The pot's about to scorch." Qian Duoduo stood and headed for the kitchen. At the door he looked back and added, "Eat first."

No one at the table asked anything more. After Huo Qing finished, he set his bowl on the table, stood, and moved the lamp under the eaves to the sheltered side of the pillar, then came back and sat.

After they dispersed, Xu Yan stood under the Mountain Gate for a while. Nie Bo, at the door of the low hut, took the bowl A Sui had brought and crouched on the threshold to eat. The wind was strong in the gateway; the broom leaned against the screen wall, the swept leaves heaped to one side, held down by a stone.

Before the Hai hour, the Accounts Room.

Xu Yan trimmed the lamp wick and spread the order paper on the desk. The seal still felt thick to the touch. He folded the text inward first, leaving the square seal on the outside, then folded again, down to a width that would fit into the account books.

In the books, the two certificates—Seventh Rank and Sixth—sat together. He lifted them, laid the order paper beneath both, and ran a finger along the fold to press it flat.

Under the lamp he sat and worked another sum: from the Mountain Gate to the Luoxia Inn, ten li of mountain road, one shichen; one round trip to report, two shichen. Once the tide reached beyond the pass, someone would have to fall back from the North Slope's shoulder, and then someone would have to run that route to town.

That sum had no total yet.

Next was the land deed. He drew it out and spread it open. Two fold creases divided the paper into three sections, each of the four boundaries beginning on its own line. His finger traced down the last line.

North boundary: the clifftop of the Back Mountain.

He refolded the deed along its original creases, pressed it back into place, and smoothed it with his palm.

The pages at the back of the account books—he did not turn them.

The wick sputtered once. He trimmed the charred end, and the room dimmed by a layer.

The pass lay beyond that boundary.