Chapter 16 Part 1

Inside the Fengyi Sect Council Hall.

From Tang Yi’s announcement, on the Old Sect Master’s behalf, of those stiff, formulaic courtesies; to each of the artifacts, medicine, accounting, and letters lines presenting their strengths and weaknesses; even to disagreements over theory escalating from mild persuasion into fierce argument—Ye Qingzhou did not say a single word.

She sat quietly to one side; from beginning to end, her gaze never left Luo Jiao for a moment.

Everyone noticed.

No one dared mention it.

Luo Jiao knew it too, of course. From the instant she’d entered the Council Hall, past layer upon layer of curtains, Ye Qingzhou’s gaze had stayed fixed upon her.

And that gaze was amused—scarcely what one could call friendly. So rather than “looking,” it was better classed as “sizing up”—

Sizing up from above downward.

As if Luo Jiao were a prisoner, and Ye Qingzhou the magistrate holding her token, lounging on the high dais, appraising her from crown to heel: her expression, her form, her speech and manner—searching for evidence of her false face, her fraud, her deception.

Whenever their eyes happened to meet, Ye Qingzhou’s expression made Luo Jiao’s skin prickle and her courage falter.

That half-smile plainly steeped in disdain and coldness—like a viper flicking its tongue, waiting only for Luo Jiao to stumble once into the trap, so it could feast at leisure.

Still dazed, Luo Jiao felt Lin Zhi tug her hem and whisper, “I get the feeling… she wants to flay your skin off.”

Luo Jiao shifted back half a step, inconspicuous. “That’s not all,” she said. “She also wants to drink my blood and eat my flesh.”

Lin Zhi found this hilarious and was about to reply when, from the dais, Tang Yi called her name. “Lin Zhi—your thoughts?”

Lin Zhi jolted back to herself. “Eh?”

By now Tang Yi had long shed her old-woman disguise, and was plainly in the flower of her years.

She smiled warmly at Lin Zhi. “Your medicine and mechanisms both scored B-mid. By rights, joining either the ‘Medicine’ line or the ‘Artifacts’ line would be perfectly reasonable. Elder Chi and Elder Ruan are at each other’s throats over you—come, tell us: what are your own thoughts?”

“My thoughts?” Lin Zhi mumbled.

If the person Lin Zhi feared most among the elders was Ye Qingzhou, then second came Tang Yi.

After all, that record of fiercely talking back to the Grand Elder at the entrance examination itself… wasn’t something everyone possessed.

So even though Tang Yi’s question could not have been more amiable, Lin Zhi still guiltily shifted her gaze aside, turning her head toward the two elders of “Medicine” and “Artifacts.”

Of the “Medicine” line, Elder Chi was a young man whose smile, though genial, always struck Lin Zhi as hiding a knife.

Of the “Artifacts” line, Elder Ruan wore half-rim spectacles, her hair chopped ragged short, one tuft even dyed red. Judged on face alone she didn’t look easy to deal with—maybe even hot-tempered—but looking at the little wooden bird perched on her shoulder, and the tassel-like mechanical trinkets at her wrist, Lin Zhi inexplicably felt an affinity.

Lin Zhi poked Luo Jiao and asked quietly, “Medicine or mechanisms—if it were you, which would you pick?”

Luo Jiao’s mind had been wandering; she caught only a few stray words and answered at random, “The latter. Words make me dizzy.”

This answer hit Lin Zhi square in her sweet spot. But on the surface, as though still agonizing, she stroked her chin, looked left, looked right, and swayed between options.

While she wavered, Elder Ruan of the “Artifacts” line suddenly spoke.

“Lin Zhi—if you become my personal disciple, that drawing you made in the mechanisms exam, I will build it for you on the spot.”

Lin Zhi froze at the words.

In truth, Lin Zhi’s indecision had another cause.

Back in Qingdu, during her practice runs, accounting had clearly been her best of the four subjects—so she’d scarcely imagined ending up in medicine or mechanisms. But at the accounting exam the day before, the moment she remembered that the one in charge of the “Accounting” line was none other than the Elder Tang Yi she’d so grievously offended, Lin Zhi looked at the test paper and saw Tang Yi’s old-woman face, saw the scene on the stone steps, remembered her own pile of reckless words, remembered the disdain in Tang Yi’s eyes, remembered Ye Qingzhou’s nearly lethal swordstroke… And the more she thought, the more the words on the page seemed to drift and swirl, until she couldn’t read them at all—never mind answering properly.

Thus her strongest subject, accounting, ended at a mere “B-lower.”

But the present situation was plainly good.

For the elders of both “Medicine” and “Artifacts” to take special note of her meant she did have real merit.

In fact, Lin Zhi loved mechanisms. But the tutors in Qingdu all said her sketches were too wildly fanciful—dazzling to look at, chaos underneath—and would never score points in an examination.

The tutors said mechanisms prize practical execution. What’s drawn on paper is illusory; what’s held in the hand is real. If it cannot be made into an actual object, all the flash in the world is worthless.

But Lin Zhi never dreamed that one day it could truly become real.

And promised personally by the famous Elder Ruan Yu of the famous “Artifacts” line of the famous Fengyi Sect, no less.

Lin Zhi raised her head and asked, “Elder Ruan, do you really think my drawing was good?”

“Naturally!” Ruan Yu answered without ceremony. “Why else would I fight over you? The arts of cultivation should of course be pursued with someone who shares your spirit. I have already set my sights on you; now all that’s missing is for you to choose me.”

Lin Zhi’s gaze slid past the other elder, and she swallowed. “Then I’ll…”

“—Ruan Yu, this is cheating! Since when does one promise a disciple before she’s even through the gate?”

Before Lin Zhi could finish, Elder Chi slapped the table and rose. “Lin Zhi, do nothing you’ll regret. This choice may look like a small matter, but the ties within run tangled and deep. You are Lin Zhi, moreover a Lin daughter of Qingdu’s pawn trade—think carefully…”

“Hey, hey, stop, stop.” Tang Yi abruptly clapped her hands, cutting Elder Chi off. “Interests and influence are not things children of thirteen or fourteen should be weighing. A school is not an officialdom.”

Then, gently: “Elder Chi, don’t blame the child. Children choose by whim or by feeling. If you fault her for it, it makes me look wrong—after all, it was I who first let her choose.”

“Chi Bumin, and to think you had it in you—haggling with a child over her parents’ generation’s interests? One word from you and all you smell of is copper coins. Only a fool would pick you.” Elder Ruan Yu toyed with the wooden bird on her shoulder, fanning the flames.

Elder Chi was so angry his beard and eyebrows bristled—but before he could speak, it was Lin Zhi who stepped forward first, waving both hands rapidly. “Elder Chi, my apologies! This junior doesn’t refuse to share her parents’ burdens, nor does she wish to make an enemy of you—but on the road of learning, I want to do what I love first.”

Elder Chi gave a “hmph” and, somewhat sheepishly, didn’t actually pick a fight with one small lass.

Luo Jiao stood to one side, arms crossed, watching the wrangle with great interest, entirely forgetting to observe Ye Qingzhou’s expression.

Lin Zhi was smoothly taken into the Inner Sect by Elder Ruan Yu of the “Artifacts” line.

Afterward, the high-ranked Zhou Juan and Ji Mingjing chose accounting and medicine respectively.

Thus only the Inner Sect disciple seat of the “Letters” line under Elder Xu remained unfilled.

Every student looked up in unison toward Elder Xu.

Elder Xu, in a long robe of dark hair-colored silk, had picked the very last seat, and through all the squabbling had not said one word. Yet unlike Ye Qingzhou’s indifferent detachment, Elder Xu clearly abstained only from lack of interest in contesting.

Elder Xu’s gaze circled the crowd once and landed on Fang Lei at the very front.

Fang Lei ranked third, behind Zhou Juan and Ji Mingjing, ahead of Lin Zhi; all four subjects “B-mid,” as though scored precisely to the questions—frighteningly, perfectly balanced.

Though he had no conspicuous specialty, taken as a whole such results were unquestionably excellent. If he failed to be taken into the Inner Sect, it would be rather unreasonable.

Lin Zhi guessed Elder Xu would choose Luo Jiao—but Luo Jiao ranked only eleventh, and now only one Inner Sect seat remained.

Luo Jiao thought her chances slim.

She pinched Lin Zhi’s hand where it rested on her shoulder and said softly, “If…”

But before she could finish, Fang Lei at the front dropped straight down to his knees!

“I beg Elder Ye to take me as her disciple!”

In an instant, everyone was stunned; the whole hall erupted.

Even Tang Yi’s eyes went wide, forgetting her next move.

Only Ye Qingzhou behaved as though nothing were happening, leaning back slightly on the walnut couch, glancing at Luo Jiao now and then, lowering her eyes, lightly pressing her lips, plucking green lychees from the glass dish at her side.

But Fang Lei did not lose heart.

He oriented himself squarely toward Ye Qingzhou’s seat, hands pressed to the floor. “I beg Elder Ye to take me as her disciple!”

With that, he actually bowed his back and knocked his head down, hard, in a full kowtow!

“I beg Elder Ye to take me as her disciple!” he said. “I know you have never taken a disciple before, yet I still wish to try. I have practiced the sword since childhood and was raised on meals from a hundred households. At six, a Daoist of Lanjie wished to take me as a student—but my heart belonged to Fengyi, and above all to your Daoist Arts and swordsmanship. Elder Ye, believe in my resolve. If you harbor doubt, draw your sword and test me! Elder Ye, if you take me as your disciple—through mountains of blades, seas of fire, your Fang Lei is entirely at your command!”

“I beg Elder Ye to take me as her disciple!”

Fang Lei finished, and knocked his head again.

Tang Yi finally came back to herself and hurried to intervene—but saw Fang Lei prostrate on the ground, hammering down three more kowtows, bam bam bam.

“I beg Elder Ye to take me as her disciple!”

Tang Yi looked hesitantly toward Ye Qingzhou.

In that very instant, Fang Lei knocked his head once more. “I beg Elder Ye to take me as her disciple!”

—With the air of one prepared to knock until death unless Ye Qingzhou answered.

Not until the tenth plea did Ye Qingzhou, lounging on the couch, finally lift her eyes and give a careless “Ah.”

She picked up a handkerchief and wiped her fingertips, unhurried. “The Fengyi Sword Art—you will learn it once you enter the Inner Sect. There is no need to seek me.”

Fang Lei remained prostrate and said, most respectfully, “But what I wish to learn is the Sanqing Sword Art.”

Everyone in the hall was shocked.

All present knew: among Ye Qingzhou’s taboos, the first was Luo Jiao, and the second was Sanqing—be it Mount Sanqing, the Daoist of Sanqing, the Sanqing Daoist Art, or the Sanqing Sword Art.

Even Tang Yi’s breath caught, her hand stealing behind her to grip her sword hilt against mishap.

But they heard Ye Qingzhou say, lazily—

“Fine.”

Her tone was even, her voice carrying a smile, the tail of it even tilting slightly upward.