He retreated, evaded, parried.
The wooden saber in his hands was steady; every time it sealed the opponent’s line exactly.
The youth attacked more than a dozen times and never once touched the hem of Qin Yun’s robe.
His breathing began to disorder; his footwork was no longer as lively as when he first came up.
Qin Yun caught the gap when he changed breath and sent a cut forward.
The back of the wooden saber tapped lightly on the youth’s wrist.
The youth hissed in pain; the wooden saber left his hand, hit the platform, and bounced twice.
He looked down at his hand, then up at Qin Yun.
Qin Yun had already withdrawn the saber and stepped back.
The referee raised a flag.
Qin Yun bent, picked up the wooden saber from the platform, and handed it back to the youth.
The youth took it, rubbed his wrist, then suddenly grinned.
“Fast saber.”
Qin Yun also smiled and cupped his fists toward him.
The two of them left the platform one after the other.
Bai Heng stood outside the awning a while longer, then sat back down.
Second match, third, fourth—Qin Yun fought them one after another.
His opponents were tall and short, fast and slow; some used vicious saber work, some used light, nimble swords.
He fought every match without hurry or agitation.
Against the weak he did not bully them; he stopped at first contact.
Against the strong he did not panic; he slowly looked for openings.
After four matches he was undefeated.
The sleeve of his robe had been torn in one place by a wooden saber; the skin beneath was unhurt.
During the midday rest Qin Yun returned to the awning.
Bai Heng took an oil-paper packet from her robes and handed it to him; inside were two large meat buns she had slipped out to buy.
Qin Yun took them, sat on the bench beside her, and bit off a large mouthful.
The buns were still warm; they seemed to taste much better than usual.
He chewed, swallowed, bit again, and answered absently, “Six more matches this afternoon.”
Bai Heng nodded.
Qin Yun finished both large meat buns, leaned against a post of the awning, and closed his eyes for a while.
Sunlight leaked through gaps in the awning roof and fell on his eyelids.
His lashes trembled faintly, as if he were dreaming.
The clamor of the arena came from far away, mixed with wind and the snap of banners, turning into a blurred background.
Bai Heng looked at the side of his face as he leaned against the post.
There was an extremely shallow mark at his temple, left when the tip of a wooden saber had grazed him that morning.
The skin was not broken, only a red line.
She watched for a while, held back the impulse to reach out and touch it, and looked away.
In the afternoon matches Qin Yun quickly won four more.
By the end of the eighth match he already had eight wins; in truth he had confirmed advancement to tomorrow’s selection as soon as he reached six.
He did not slacken.
He still fought the remaining matches with care.
The opponent in the ninth match was a girl who used twin sabers.
Her saber work was tricky; her left and right hands coordinated extremely well and several times nearly forced Qin Yun to the edge of the platform.
Qin Yun was driven back several steps; his heel already stood on the platform’s edge line.
Thinking victory was certain, the girl sent both sabers out together, intending to force him off completely.
Qin Yun did not retreat.
He turned sideways and slipped through the gap between the twin blades.
The gap was extremely small; his shoulder brushed the back of a saber as he slid past, adding another tear to his cotton robe.
At the same time he reversed a cut; the back of the wooden saber struck the hollow behind the girl’s knee.
Her leg went soft and she dropped to one knee.
Qin Yun withdrew the saber and stepped away.
The referee raised a flag.
The girl stood, brushed the dust from her knee, looked at Qin Yun with a trace of unwillingness in her gaze that quickly turned into a helpless smile.
She gave Qin Yun a thumbs-up; Qin Yun cupped his fists toward her as well.
The tenth match was the easiest.
By afternoon the opponent was already spent, his steps floating; after he swung the wooden saber he could not pull it back.
Qin Yun did not hurry to end it.
He walked through more than a dozen exchanges with him, and only when the other finally left a large opening did he tap the wooden saber against the youth’s chest.
The opponent looked down at the gray mark the saber tip had left on his chest, looked up at Qin Yun, and cupped his fists in concession.
Ten wins out of ten.
When Qin Yun came down from the platform his steps were no longer as light as they had been in the morning.
He sat under the awning, took the water pouch Bai Heng handed him, and tipped his head back to drink several mouthfuls.
Water overflowed the corner of his mouth and ran down his chin into his collar.
Bai Heng watched him set the pouch down.
“Ten more matches tomorrow.”
Qin Yun nodded.
He did not speak; he only leaned against the post and looked at the platforms on the arena that had not yet finished.
The sun had already slanted west, stretching the shadows on the platforms very long.
Bai Heng stood, went to the water room by the gate, and filled the pouch.
When she returned she noticed there was one more person at the edge of the awning.
It was the young master in brocade who had looked at her that morning at the gate.
He wore a sapphire-blue brocade robe, a white-jade belt at his waist, two attendants behind him.
He stood beside an awning post, about three or four paces from the bench Bai Heng had sat on, a cup of tea in his hand, sipping now and then.
When Bai Heng passed him he set the cup down and turned sideways.
“This young lady, I am Chen of Prince Liu’s Manor—”
He had not finished when a wave of Foundation Establishment pressure rolled out from Bai Heng.
It was not heavy, like a hand resting casually on a shoulder.
The young master’s voice caught in his throat; the tea in the cup rippled and nearly spilled.
The faces of the two attendants behind him also changed; their legs trembled, wanting to run yet not daring to.
Bai Heng did not look at him.
She walked past and sat down on the bench beside Qin Yun.
The pressure withdrew.
The young master stood where he was, cup still in hand, his expression as if frozen.
After a good while he set the cup on the awning railing and left quickly with the two attendants.
Qin Yun leaned against the post, eyes half-closed, the corner of his mouth curving slightly before he pressed it flat again.
Bai Heng handed him the water pouch.
“Rest well.”
Qin Yun took the pouch but did not drink; he only held it.
The last few matches on the arena also ended.
The referees’ counting and the clack of wooden sabers faded one after another; the crowd began to file out.
A youth ran over from the platforms and waved to Qin Yun outside the awning—it was the short one who had lost to him in the first match that morning.
Qin Yun stood and walked over; the two of them stood outside the awning.
The youth talked and gestured, probably describing how his later matches had gone.
Qin Yun listened and nodded from time to time.
Bai Heng sat on the bench and watched the two youths talking in the sunset.
The sunlight gilded their outlines gold and threw their shadows onto the yellow earth of the arena, long and full.
Qin Yun finished speaking, walked back, and stopped beside Bai Heng.
“All right. Let’s go back.”
Bai Heng stood and picked up the water pouch from the bench.
They passed through the thinning crowd toward the main gate.
In the passageway Bai Heng suddenly stopped.
Qin Yun stopped with her and followed her gaze.
A new notice was posted on the bulletin board beside the passageway, listing the rules of the youth martial contest and the preliminary schedule.
Several large seals were stamped in the lower right corner, some from the palace, some from the three great sects.
Bai Heng read through it, identifying the seals one by one.
The sword-shaped seal of Heavenly Sword Gate, the talisman-pattern seal of Yanfa Sect, the lotus-dais seal of Azure Cloud Mountain.
Qin Yun stood beside her, also looking at those seals.
“The Martial Academy is those three as well, plus the court.”
Bai Heng nodded, and they continued outward.
Outside the main gate the waiting crowd had long since scattered; only a few family members still waited for their own children to come out.
The stone lions by the gate cast huge shadows in the sunset, covering the small stretch before the threshold in shade.
When Bai Heng crossed the threshold her embroidered shoe stepped on the stone slab and made a very light tap.
She looked down at the orchid on the shoe upper; in the shadow the orchid was hard to see, only a few extremely faint arcs.
Qin Yun walked ahead, took a few steps, then looked back to wait for her.
Bai Heng quickened her pace and caught up.
They followed the road they had come by.
Shops along the street were beginning to pack up one after another; the bun stall had only empty steamers left, stacked high.
An old man who sold sugar figures was packing his things; when he saw them pass he smiled.
Qin Yun nodded to him.
“We’ll come again tomorrow.”
By the time they returned to the trading house the sky was already darkening.
Liu Qing was heating food in the kitchen; when she heard the courtyard gate she poked her head out for a look, then drew it back.
Qin Yun sat down on the corridor, pulled off his boots, and set his bare feet on the gravel.
Bai Heng sat down beside him, copied him by taking off her embroidered shoes, and curled her toes on the stones.
Liu Qing brought the food out and no longer stood on ceremony; she set it directly on the corridor.
Three bowls of rice, a plate of cured pork stir-fried with garlic stems, a plate of plain stir-fried cabbage, and a small dish of pickled radish.
Qin Yun picked up his bowl and ate slowly.
Bai Heng also held her bowl and transferred slices of cured pork one by one into Qin Yun’s bowl.
Qin Yun lifted his head and looked at her.
“Sister Bai Heng, you eat too.”
Bai Heng raised her eyes to him, nodded, and at the same time transferred another slice.
Qin Yun did not push the food back again; he ate the cured pork together with the rice.
Liu Qing held her own bowl to the side; her gaze traveled between the two of them, then she lowered her head and continued eating.
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