Heaven's Golden Finger - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Shirong couldn't help feeling nervous. This whole business of fate and fortune was running him ragged. It was a fine thing to say his fate and Shun's were one. He was almost sure doing so helped. What he couldn't be sure of, because he wasn't sure how prophecy worked in this world, was if it'd be enough.
One thought occurred to him and he examined the money stored in his newly acquired spatial ring. This was another place where old Shirong's essential laziness gave him trouble. Since his predecessor hadn't had any reason to travel and no need for money, he'd barely paid any attention to its value.
Money in this world was oddly shaped. Not paper or coins, like Shirong was accustomed to, nor even the metal boats one sometimes saw in Chinese movies. These were bell shaped and hung together on strands of dark green silk. They bore markings identifying their value, but Shirong wasn't sure how much they were actually worth.
"You look puzzled, master. Can this slave assist you?" Mo Qingshe's voice had a faintly mocking note. She must realize he was feeling lost again.
"How much is this worth?" he asked, pulling out one of the half dozen strands from his spatial ring.
"That? A mere pittance. Just ten-thousand zhong."
Ten-thousand? The number sounded huge. "How much can that buy?"
A look of mock pity crossed the snake-demoness' face. "Oh, not much. A private dinner for three at the Jinxing House in Tang City."
That didn't seem like 'not much' to Shirong. His predecessor's wasn't so ignorant that he didn't know Tang City was one of the largest in the region. Nor so ignorant that he didn't know Jinxing House was supposed to be one of its finest restaurants. "Good enough," he decided, heading for the betting table towards the back of the hall.
"Master? What are you doing?"
"Giving us an edge... I hope." He set the strand on the table, ignoring the snake-demoness' mutters and smiled at the old man taking the bets. "This on Shu Shun."
He blinked. "Young man, that's a rather large amount to put on one young boy. Granted, he did win before, but Liang Ren and Master Tong Si are both formidable opponents. You may wish to spread your bet out more wisely."
"No." As the old man blinked, Shirong said firmly. "All of it on Shu Shun."
The old man checked his books. "I can give you twenty to one odds."
That made Mo Qingshe scoff. "You value Young Lord Shun's skill so low?"
"I value Young Lord Ren's so high," the old man corrected. "And not just because he is Liang Xie Rao's son. If you'd seen him truly fight, you'd understand."
Frankly, Shirong didn't care that the odds were so much lower. If anything, they played in his favor. The less chance he had of winning this bet, the better chance his strange fortune would come into play. Besides, he trusted Shun's skill. "I'll take it."
They headed back to the seating area, Shirong rubbing the piece of carved stone identifying his bet. "What's wrong?" he asked Mo Qingshe. The snake-demoness was still muttering curses under her breath. "You believe he'll win, even against this Liang Ren, right?"
"Of course."
"Then why be angry? We win and we'll have sixty meals at that restaurant to look forward to."
"But it's an insult to Young Lord Shun's skill!"
Admittedly, it was. And, admittedly, Shun Shixiong might be offended, knowing how little faith the oddsmaker had put in his swordplay. But that hardly mattered. A contest like this depended in part on luck and that was where Shirong's bet came in. Not to overcome Shu Shun's bad luck, but to negate it. The rest was up to Shun Shixiong.
"Then you don't need to tell him. At least not until we're far away from this place." Shirong took his seat. "Now be quiet. I think they're about to start."
Muttering still, Mo Qingshe made him buy a bag of melon seeds from the vendor, then sat down beside him with an intent expression.
Before the contest could begin, the sixteen participants each picked a pendant from a wooden box. At a guess, that would be how they identified their opponent for the round. A flicker of light surrounding them when they put the pendants on told him there was more to it than that. "A shield?"
"Kingdom law," Mo Qingshe pointed out, spitting a shell on the floor between them. "Public martial contests must limit the danger. Participants are protected from physical harm. It's not all a game, though. Injuries still hurt the way they would in a real fight. One fellow couldn't walk for months after he was - sort of - decapitated."
Now he thought about it, the sect used a similar spell for sword practice. Still, it was a new concept to Shirong. In each and every one of his cultivation novels, contestants in these things generally risked life and limb. And having it still hurt probably made sure participants took the thing seriously. Well, most participants. From the way the one called Liang Ren was bouncing around, nothing could spoil his mood, not even the threat of magical injury.
A heavy-set woman in a dark blue robe came out onto the platform. "Welcome to today's sword battle contest," she called. "Now we've selected opponents, this humble one announces we shall begin. First opponents, Shu Shun of Leifeng Sect and Master Dai Jichun of the northern Dai clan."
Old Shirong had seen his Shixiong fight before, but hadn't paid a great deal of attention. That meant Shirong didn't know much about the man's style. He did know Leifeng sect was known for its spiritual weaponry. Instead of fighting with physical blades, a properly trained disciple of the sect could manipulate their bases into a magical blade. Shun Shixiong's bases being Lake and fire, though, surely complicated matters.
Still, Shun Shixiong seemed calmly confident as he stepped onto the protected platform to face his opponent. Dai Jichun was tall, with a long reach and a startlingly big sword. "Draw your weapon, boy. I'm in no mood for games."
"My weapon is readied," Shun Shixiong answered. "I only wait for the command to fight." He stood with his hands behind his back, his fingers forming Leifeng sect's sword seal. Nothing seemed to appear in his hand, but Shirong knew from his predecessor's memories that it wouldn't. For some reason, Shu Shun's blade was invisible to the naked eye.
Shirong peered closely. Corrected himself. There was a faint quiver in the air behind Shun Shixiong, one resembling the air above hot pavement, or behind a jet plane's engine. He focused his attention on the area, calling on his, or his predecessor's training, to let him see better. Ah, yes, there it was. A saber, a little under a yard long, with interesting sharp curves towards its hilt.
Before Shun's opponent could become angrier, the blue-robed woman raised her hands. "Bow to Master Liang, then to the audience."
They both obeyed, though it was obvious Dai Jichun was still furious with Shu Shun for his apparent disregard. Still, neither moved towards each other until the woman stepped off the platform, saying, "Begin!"
Dai Jichun's sword cut thin air, stabbing towards Shu Shun's belly. By the time he reached his target, Shu Shun had moved, dodging beneath the blow, sword hand moving in a beautiful side-cut. His opponent opened his mouth to laugh, obviously sure Shu Shun hadn't bothered to draw a sword. Only to gasp and stare down at his stomach, where the shielding was turning bright red along a perfectly horizontal line that encircled his torso from front to back.
As the pain hit, he staggered. Turned to stare at Shu Shun. Said, slowly, "My mistake. I concede the battle." Then, silently, he stumbled down from the platform.
Behind him, the announcer called, "First fight to Shu Shun of Leifeng Sect!"
The next few fights took a bit longer. Perhaps Dai Jichun's mistake in underestimating their opponent taught those who followed a lesson. Even young Liang Ren's opponent, Duan Lofeng, took the boy seriously, despite his thin build and his peculiar fighting style. It didn't help. Liang Ren still sent the man off the arena with his shield in tatters. He was fast, cutting and dodging so quickly he almost seemed to be teleporting.
The next round had four matches and once again the participants chose from a set of eight shield pendants. This time Shu Shun was up against one of the first timers, an older man named Tou Xichen. This one looked like he'd come from some far off battlefield. A mercenary, perhaps? He was missing an eye and used a long and heavy spear tipped in some peculiar blue stone. He was amazingly fast with it, spinning it between himself and his opponent to create a wall of air that set Shun sliding backwards, his long black hair flying behind him.
Shirong held his breath, sure his Shixiong was about to be thrown from the arena. Except Shu Shun made a seal with his left hand and drove a second saber deep into the rock beneath his feet. Grasping tight, he held his ground and focused his attention on his first weapon, shifting its length and width to something more like another spear. One he thrust straight into his opponent's spinning weapon, breaking it in half.
As the wind died down, Shu Shun flung himself forward and stabbed his opponent with his transformed blade. The man dropped backwards, caught himself. Stared down at the ruby glow in the middle of his chest. "Surprising move. I forgot you Leifeng Sect disciples can change your blades." He bowed. "I concede."
Again Shu Shun was declared the winner. Again the other fights continued. At last the third round came, pairing Shun Shixiong against Chen Lei, an elderly woman fighting with a walking stick. Shirong had been surprised at her speed and strength in her previous fights. She evaded Shu Shun's strikes with ease, redirecting his sword and pushing past to swing her cane with devastating strength.
If Shun Shixiong had been slower, he'd have been out within the first few strikes. As it was, he had to take at least one blow to his left arm in order to keep her from braining him instead. Shirong caught sight of his Shixiong's expression and held his breath, pleading inwardly for Shu Shun to keep his temper. Old Shirong hadn't paid much attention to his studies, but he knew that fire elemental base of his Shixiong's could lead to dangerous outbursts.
To his relief, the older boy settled for catching hold of his opponent's cane and twisting it, and her arm, into a painful position. She went down a moment later, his saber pressed against her throat, the tip glowing slightly as it pressed against her shield.
"I surrender," she said hurriedly. "Nice work, boy. Tell that grandfather of yours I said he taught you well."
Helping her up, Shun Shixiong bowed. "I will do so, Master Chen."
Liang Ren won the second of the third round fights, meaning Shu Shun and he would be facing each other soon. They were given an extra quarter incense stick to recover from their last fight, though, and Shirong dared to slip down the stairs to where Shun Shixiong was sitting. "Should I get you anything?"
"A new arm?"
The dour way his Shixiong spoke almost made Shirong chuckle. Then he turned serious. "Shizun gave us healing pills, right? You should take one."
Raising his brow, Shun Shixiong asked calmly, "Do you think I haven't already?"
"I... suppose that was a silly thing to say."
"Of your many foolish utterances, it barely registers." An odd smile crossed Shun Shixiong's face. "Don't look so worried. I can handle the next one. At least I think I can."
Shirong wasn't sure why his Shixiong didn't sound confident but he knew better than to try and encourage him. Somehow he guessed that was the last thing the older boy wanted from him. "Well, I hope you win, otherwise I just wasted a string of gold bells."
That made Shun Shixiong stare. "Where the hell did you get something like that?"
"My spatial ring." Shirong tapped the band on his finger.
Quite slowly, with an expression of blank shock, the older boy said, "That's enough to buy a village."
A village? "Mo Qingqiu said it was enough for dinner for three at Jinxing house."
Shu Shun fell silent for a surprisingly long moment. Then, "Well, yes. For a private dinner where you rent the whole building for the night." At Shirong's widening eyes, his Shixiong added, "I can see I'm going to have to educate you on the value of money as well as cultivation."
Apologetically, Shirong admitted he was right. "It's too late now, and I promise, I only used one string out of the six."
"What odds?"
Now Shirong hesitated. If Shun Shixiong knew what a low opinion the arena had of his chances, would that increase or decrease his confidence? Knowing his elder sect brother wouldn't appreciate being lied to, he whispered, "Twenty to one."
That set Shu Shun back a moment. He shot a glance towards Liang Ren, sitting on the other side of the arena chatting up some pretty girl. "He's hiding some skill, then. Interesting."
"I'm sorry, Shixiong. I didn't mean to get you into a situation like this...."
"You never do." Again that odd smile. "But then, that seems to be part of our fate, so I can hardly blame you for it, either." He stretched his hands, adding, "That boy is hiding something, yes. But then, so am I."
By which, Shirong guessed, his Shixiong had an ace up his sleeve that he was ready to pull if necessary.