Chapter 253: Two Verdicts

Jin Buhuan didn't speak.

He stood at the west end of the long table, arms hanging at his sides, eyes still fixed on that stack of paper labels. The patch of light from the window crept slowly from his feet to beneath the counter. No one in the room made a sound. The sloshing of washing from the Luoxia River drifted in wave after wave, making the silence feel even more solid.

Wen Su waited. She waited until the light had shifted another half-inch before she drew her eyes back from the west end. She pressed a hand on the joint testimony on the table, then pushed it aside.

"The rules."

The clerk pulled a sheet of paper from beneath a wooden box. The edges were frayed and worn. He set it in the middle of the long table. Written on it were the words copied from the wooden boards on the walls of the Linchuan Market Office.

"Linchuan Market Rules." Wen Su read slowly, letting each word fall. "Article One. Goods are sold at posted prices, regardless of which sect the buyer belongs to."

She finished the line and looked up, her finger still pressed against it.

"From the third day of the Tenth Month, Alliance Year 301, Wanbao Tower's Linchuan shop has refused to sell to Qingya. Shopkeeper Teng has admitted it."

Teng Mao's chin twitched. Both hands drawn up at the edges of his sleeves, he stared at the tabletop and said nothing further.

"That business at Luoxia Wharf happened outside the Market. The Willow Bank Gate matter was also outside the Market." Her finger moved from the paper to the blank space beside it. "Matters outside the Market fall to the Branch."

After she said this, she looked east. Miao Zhong, Zhuo Ying, Kuang Lun nodded one after another.

"Article Two." Her finger pressed back onto the line on the paper. "It is forbidden to sell goods under another merchant's name or mark. For selling under another merchant's name or mark, the shop shall be sealed for one year and a fine paid to the Branch. If a hired hand did it, it is charged to the hired hand."

She pushed the paper toward the middle of the table so both ends could see the line.

She glanced at the stack of paper labels spread on the table. "The wooden crate of counterfeit Qingya paper labels is in the Wanbao Tower warehouse outside the city." She paused. "The warehouse is also outside the Market."

Qi Qi, who'd been gripping the door frame by the door, released his fingers and let his hand drop to the seam of his trousers. His palm was slick with sweat.

"Article Three." Wen Su said. "If an elixir is tested and found poisonous, compensation is due."

Zhuo Ying's eyes drifted back to the small porcelain vial at the corner of the table, and this time they didn't move away.

"The fake pills came from Wanbao Tower warehouse stock." Wen Su said. "What those three people are owed was entered into the Linchuan Market Office register on the nineteenth day of the Third Month."

Teng Mao shifted his feet on the brick floor. A small sound scraped out, then he stood still. He lowered his hands from his cuffs and let them hang in front of him.

Wen Su folded the page with the copied rules and replaced it in the wooden box. She laid both hands on the table and looked around the room at them.

"Verdict."

She paused. A flatbed cart happened to be passing outside the Market gate just then. Its axle rasped dryly all the way down to the south end of Market Street.

"Under Article Two, Wanbao Tower's Linchuan shop is sealed for one year. A fine is to be paid to the Branch."

"For the three who consumed the fake pills, Wanbao Tower pays compensation. The compensation is the sum already recorded in the Linchuan Market Office register. It will not be paid twice."

"For the fire against the back wall, Cen Si is a hired hand of Wanbao Tower's Linchuan shop, and all three men put their marks on the confession. What a hired hand does is charged to the hired hand, and to the one who hired him: Wanbao Tower."

"The Branch will issue a notification to the Jinding Pavilion. The Jinding Pavilion is not named in the accusation, and will not be recorded."

At "will not be recorded," she lifted her hand from the paper and pressed a fingertip lightly against the tabletop, as if drawing a line beneath the verdict.

No one in the room answered. Miao Zhong lowered his head, then raised it again. Kuang Lun pulled his legs in and rested his hands on his knees. Xu Yan remained standing by the counter, his hand on the bundle, the account books pressed beneath it. On the back of the account books were recorded those few lines from the third day of the Tenth Month.

"Cen Si." Wen Su said. "The Branch will release him upon return."

Xu Yan's lips moved but made no sound. He had waited nearly a month for this sentence, and now that he heard it, it felt lighter than he had imagined.

"The back wall of the Market," Wen Su turned to face him, "does Sect Master Xu want Wanbao Tower to pay for it?"

"The wall's already repaired." Xu Yan said. "No."

Wen Su's brush hesitated in her hand. She didn't write this down, and she didn't ask why. She nodded once, drew out two sheets of verdict paper from the box, and laid them on the long table, straightening them until the edges aligned.

The clerk pushed the small bronze seal box to her hand and lifted the lid. Inside, an old cloth was laid down with a seal resting on it, its handle wrapped in polished copper. In one corner of the box sat a small block of seal paste. She swirled her brush tip twice in the ink pool, then sat down to write.

She wrote slowly, stroke by stroke. At "sealed for one year," she paused, reviewing the previous character before continuing. By the time she reached the second sheet, the Market was so quiet you could hear the rasp of the brush tip moving across paper. Shao Ming watched her hand the whole time, watched until she set down the final line.

The ink wasn't yet dry. She held her hand an inch above the paper, testing, waited a moment, then brought the two sheets together and read them through from beginning to end.

Then she picked up the seal, pressed it twice into the paste, and stamped the first sheet, both hands applying force front to back. She lifted it, inspected the mark, then stamped the second. The red seal pressed into the corner of each page, half of it falling across the writing, landing in the same place on both sheets.

"Two verdicts." She said. "One for Qingya, one for Wanbao Tower."

She slid the top sheet across the table to Xu Yan's hand.

Xu Yan lifted his hand from the bundle and took it.

Wen Su picked up the other sheet and held it toward the west end. Her hand stopped halfway and waited for someone to take it.

Jin Buhuan stepped forward two paces. It was the first time all morning he'd left that spot. He reached out and took the verdict, glanced at the seal in the corner of the page, folded it twice and tucked it into his sleeve.

Then he turned and walked out. Teng Mao followed. The two of them crossed the threshold one after the other. Teng Mao paused half a step at the door frame, looked back at the stack of paper labels on the long table, then went out after him.

Xu Yan did not call out to stop him. The stack of paper labels still lay spread across the long table, the blank space beneath "Qingya" facing upward.

Miao Zhong stood in the doorway watching the two men walk toward the north end of Market Street until they rounded the corner at the grain shop. Only then did he turn back. "This year, the north entrance of Linchuan Market will have an empty shop."

"Let it be empty." Kuang Lun said. "My goods still need a scale to be weighed on at least once a year."

Zhuo Ying had already risen and walked over to the counter. Shao Ming fished a key from beneath the counter, unlocked the cabinet and lifted the lid. She peered inside at her batch of sun-dried spirit herbs, tied bundle after bundle, wrapped in oiled paper, not a single one missing. She pressed the oiled-paper corner of the top bundle back down, counted once more, then straightened up.

"I'll come on the tenth as usual." She said.

"The gate opens at Dragon hour." Shao Ming said.

The clerks packed the items on the long table one by one into their box: the three copied account books rolled together, the packet of fake pills and the retained sample pressed beneath, Cen Si's original confession laid on top. The lid of the wooden crate was snapped back down and the clasp pressed twice. Two clerks lifted it, one at each end, carried it out to the cart, and the cart bed dipped under the weight.

Wen Su looped her water flask over her arm, its stopper still in place. She rose. Her official robe's sleeves were still bound tight as always.

"On the ninth day of the Ninth Month, I will be at your Mountain Gate." She said, turning back once from inside the threshold.

"Noted." Xu Yan said.

She led her two clerks out, got in the cart, and left. Miao Zhong, Zhuo Ying, and Kuang Lun followed after, each going his own way. In the room only the three Qingya men remained, along with the smell of old wood from the boards. The cabinet lid stood open; the stock inside looked a layer thinner than before.

Shao Ming closed the cabinet lid first and locked it, then locked the Market gate. He pushed the door inward, then gave the door rings two pulls. Only when he heard the bolt seat itself inside did he pocket the key.

The three left town and took the mountain path. The Ninth Month grass was yellowing from the roots, rustling underfoot. The sun slanted over, pulling their three shadows together.

"How much was the fine? She didn't say." Qi Qi said.

"According to the rules." Xu Yan said, eyes still on the road ahead.

"And the compensation for those three?"

"It's in the Office register. According to that sum."

Qi Qi tapped his fingers twice into his palm, couldn't tally the number, and gave up.

Halfway up the mountain, at the big stone slab, Shao Ming stopped and looked back at the town. "The wall—really don't want him to pay?"

"The mason's two taels of wages and one lunch, I already paid." Xu Yan said. "The wall's repaired."

Shao Ming asked nothing more. He walked on a few steps and said the most important thing of the day: "Two days left."

Qi Qi wiped a hand over his mouth. "I was the most well-behaved of the eight mouths in there today. Didn't say one word too many."

"What needed saying was said for us by others." Shao Ming said.

Xu Yan didn't respond. The bundle on his back was a little heavier than when they came down the mountain. There was one more sheet of paper inside. He didn't take it out to look at the whole way.

They reached the Mountain Gate at Shen hour. Nie Bo was sweeping inside the gate, pushing the leaves to one side with his broom. The three passed by the sound of the broom; it paused, then resumed. The kitchen lit up first. Qian Duoduo stood in the doorway, a rag clutched in his hand.

"Sect Master, did the Market come to a judgment?"

"It did."

"So on the tenth, the fair still opens?"

"Still opens."

"Oh." Qian Duoduo slung the rag over his shoulder and turned back inside. "Then it opens."

The lamps were lit. At You hour, Xu Yan was alone in the Accounts Room.

He took the account books from the bundle and spread them on the desk. First he untied the two hemp cords and shook out the cloth wrapping. The verdict was in the inner layer, its corner creased into a shallow bend from being pressed. He laid the verdict face down, avoiding the red seal at the lower right corner, folded it once along the edge, then again, and slipped it between the pages of the account book.

When he slid it in, he opened the book to the middle, so the verdict would rest next to those other documents: the Mountain Gate deed, the Eighth Rank promotion paper, the Seventh Rank promotion paper, and the three earlier verdicts—the one from the fifteenth day of the Tenth Month, Alliance Year 300; the one from the fourth day of the Second Month, Alliance Year 301; and the one from the eighth day of the Sixth Month, Alliance Year 301. Today's sheet went at the very end, whiter than the ones before.

He turned to the back pages and found the line he had written on the night of the twenty-fifth day of the Eighth Month. That line had only a date. The rest was left blank.

"The seventh day of the Ninth Month."

The second half of the sentence, empty for twelve days, was still waiting. Xu Yan picked up his brush and touched the tip twice to the inkstone, then continued from where that line ended:

"Qingya Market, confrontation. Wanbao Tower's Linchuan shop sealed for one year."

When he finished, he set the brush down and waited for the ink to dry. A shadow stirred across the window paper—someone passing through the Front Courtyard outside, footsteps light. He closed the account book, pressed it flat with both hands, and returned it to the ledger rack.

The sect ledger against his chest, he didn't touch.