Chapter 176 - 177: The Founder’s Answer

Chapter 176: Chapter 177: The Founder’s Answer

The pavilion sat on top of the ninth gate like a teacup balanced on a boulder.

Daniel followed the grey-robed examiner up a spiral stair of white stone, past two silent guards and a hallway of paper screens, and stepped out onto a wide balcony with a view of the whole gorge. The wind smelled like pine and iron. Far below, the finish line was a bright smudge of banners and ants.

"Wait here," said the examiner.

"For what?"

"For Elder Jian. He is finishing a conversation."

"With whom?"

The examiner did not answer. He opened a sliding door and stepped aside, and Daniel looked into the room beyond.

It was a long, low hall with a polished floor and a single table in the middle. Elder Jian sat at the head of the table with a cup of tea in his hands. On either side of him sat three old men in gold-trimmed robes, and every one of them looked like he had been sucking on a lemon for the last forty years.

"Ah," said Elder Jian, without looking up. "The napper."

"That’s me," said Daniel.

"Sit."

Daniel sat at the foot of the table and smiled at the three old men like a man at a funeral who had been told there would be cake.

The oldest of the three, a tall, white-bearded man with a crest of golden feathers on his shoulder, glared back at him. He had Long Tian’s cheekbones and none of Long Tian’s polish.

"This," said the old man, "is the boy."

"This is the boy," Elder Jian agreed.

"He struck my grandson."

"I was there," said Daniel. "He took it well."

The old man’s beard quivered. "I am Elder Long Wei of the Golden Dragon Clan. I have come to lodge a formal complaint."

"Lovely," Daniel said. "Do you want tea first?"

"Silence!"

Elder Jian sipped from his cup. He had the expression of a man who had been listening to this for an hour and was only now getting to the good part.

"Please proceed, Elder Long," he said. "I believe you were on the third charge."

---

"The first charge," Elder Long said, rising to his feet, "is the assault of an heir of the Golden Dragon Clan. At the sixth gate, in front of sixty witnesses, this commoner struck Long Tian across the face. A blow of such violence that a handprint was visible for hours."

"Two hours and fifteen minutes," said one of the other elders helpfully.

"*Two hours and fifteen minutes.* This is not a gesture. It is an insult to our entire bloodline."

"Is it a rules violation?" Elder Jian asked.

"It is an *insult*."

"That is not what I asked."

Elder Long glared at him. "It is a violation of decorum."

"Heaven’s Domain has no rule of decorum at the sixth gate." Elder Jian set down his cup. "I wrote the gate myself. The plaque says the proud are heavy. It does not say the proud are protected. Participant Long Tian was weighed at four thousand kilograms for boasting about his blood. Participant Daniel Black was weighed at three grams, and he struck the heir with an open hand, a single time, while the gate watched." He tilted his head. "I asked the gate for its opinion."

"And?"

"It said, and I quote, ’The gate does not care.’"

A silence fell over the table.

"The second charge," Elder Long said, through his teeth.

"By all means."

"At the fifth gate, this boy destroyed an arch of Heaven’s Domain."

"He dropped a ceiling on a stage-four combatant," said Daniel. "Which, to be fair, was a very smart thing to do."

"Silence!"

"The arch," said Elder Jian, "was already cracked. It was struck at the keystone by a bullet. The bullet was fired after Participant Long Tian had attacked a freed Guardian of the Gorge." He raised a pale, thin finger. "I would like to be very clear on this point. Long Tian Zhao struck the Guardian first. That is a violation. A recorded one. His penalty has been logged, and he will begin the third test with a handicap."

Elder Long went still.

"A... handicap?"

"A minor one."

"That is outrageous!"

"It is a rule that has stood for two hundred years." Elder Jian’s voice did not rise. It did not need to. "Heaven’s Domain protects what it frees. The Guardian was freed by an act of mercy. The heir attacked it. The heir is penalized."

"The *clan* will not accept it!"

"Then the clan may withdraw him."

Silence.

Daniel looked at Elder Long. The old man’s face had gone from red to a very particular shade of purple. One of the other elders laid a hand on his sleeve and whispered something urgent. Elder Long shook it off.

"The third charge," he said, very slowly. "The Door of Might."

"Ah," said Elder Jian. A hint of something that might have been pleasure crossed his face. "Yes. The door."

"This commoner punched a hundred-ton iron door off its hinges. The Door of Might has stood for six hundred years. It has been a symbol of this guild. It cannot be replaced."

"It can," said Elder Jian. "The foundry in Silverbrook can cast a new one in a week. I have already sent for a quote."

"Who will *pay*?"

"That is what I was about to ask." Elder Jian turned to Daniel, mild as milk. "Participant Black, do you have an opinion?"

"The plaque said ’open it,’" said Daniel. "I opened it."

"By punching."

"It didn’t say how."

"Fair," said Elder Jian.

"That’s not fair!" Elder Long barked. "He destroyed it!"

"The Door of Might," Elder Jian said, "was designed to be opened by strength. Every participant for six hundred years has pushed it. Not one of them has tried a punch. The design was flawed. I will report it to the council." He folded his hands. "I see no reason to bill the participant for a flaw in the guild’s own architecture."

"Then the *clan* demands compensation," said Elder Long, voice shaking. "One hundred thousand gold, for the humiliation of our heir."

Elder Jian raised both eyebrows. "Humiliation," he said. "A fascinating word."

"A hundred thousand," said Elder Long.

"Funny you should mention gold," said Daniel.

Every head in the room turned to him.

"Your nephew, or cousin, or whoever the young master was, offered me any amount of gold for my card. In the first test. In front of at least twenty witnesses." He leaned back, hands behind his head. "I told him I wanted a hundred trillion."

Elder Long’s mouth worked.

"A hundred... *what*?"

"He fainted. It was lovely." Daniel smiled. "There was no contract, of course. I’m not a monster. But if you want to talk about debts, we could start there."

A very long, very silent moment followed.

One of the other elders made a small noise that was either a cough or a laugh.

Elder Long stood there with his beard shaking and his fists balled, looking at Daniel with the face of a man who had just realized he had walked into a negotiation without a map.

"Elder Long," said Elder Jian gently, "I believe we are done."

"I... we are not..."

"You have made three complaints. One has been dismissed. One has been reversed. One is a matter of poor door design." Elder Jian sipped his tea. "Your grandson’s handicap stands. The clan may withdraw him if it wishes. Please do close the door on your way out."

For one long second, Elder Long did not move.

Then he drew himself up, turned on his heel, and swept out of the room with his two silent companions trailing after him like burned toast. The door slid shut behind them with a very quiet click.

Daniel waited until the footsteps had faded.

Then he said, with great sincerity:

"That was *wonderful*."

"I have been waiting," said Elder Jian, "to say that for thirty years."

---

The tea was good.

It came in a small clay pot with a handle like a bird’s neck, and Elder Jian poured it with the care of a man who had practiced for sixty years. He set a cup in front of Daniel and sat back.

For a moment he said nothing. The wind moved the paper screens.

"Do you know why I asked you here?" Elder Jian said at last.

"Because I broke your door?"

"No."

"Because I slapped a clan heir?"

"No."

"Because I’m really handsome?"

The old man’s mouth twitched.

"Tell me," he said. "What did you say to the first gate?"

Daniel blinked. "The one that asks what you want most?"

"Yes."

"I told it the truth."

"Which was?"

Daniel sighed. "I said I wanted a harem. A big one. Strong, beautiful, kind women who actually like me. And a long nap."

He braced for the old man to scowl.

Elder Jian began, very slowly, to laugh.

It was a dry, rusty, unpracticed sound, like a door that had not been opened in years. It shook his thin shoulders. It brought tears to the corners of his eyes. Daniel stared at him in alarm, wondering whether the old man was about to have a stroke, and the examiner by the door covered his mouth with one hand to hide an astonished smile.

"I am sorry," Elder Jian wheezed, wiping his eyes. "I am sorry. It is only that... I have sat in this pavilion for forty years. I have listened to every answer. ’Honor.’ ’Strength.’ ’The good of the realm.’ ’To protect my family.’" He shook his head. "Always lies. Always dressed in a robe."

"Heng Bao said ’honor to my sect.’"

"He did. Three times."

"The gate rejected him."

"The gate rejects everyone who answers what they think the gate wants." Elder Jian composed himself. "It is a very old gate. Do you know who built it?"

"The guild?"

"The founder of Heaven’s Domain. Six hundred years ago." The old man leaned back, and his eyes went distant. "He designed every gate. He wrote every plaque. And the story goes that when he built the first one, he wanted to be certain it could only be passed by the truth. So he stood in front of it, as a young man, and answered it himself."

Daniel waited.

"He wanted a harem," said Elder Jian. "A very large one. And a very long nap."

The room was completely silent.

"You’re kidding," said Daniel.

"I am not."

"That’s... that’s *exactly* what I said."

"Nearly word for word. It is written in the founder’s diary. The diary is locked in the deepest vault of this guild, and only the elders may read it." Elder Jian’s eyes glittered. "When the gate said ’truth’ to you, my examiner at the arch sent word to me within a minute. I have not slept well since."

Daniel stared at him. For once, he had absolutely nothing clever to say.

"Heaven’s Domain," said Elder Jian quietly, "was founded by a man who wanted everything and said so. It has since been run by men who wanted everything and lied. I have long suspected the guild lost something along the way." He met Daniel’s eyes. "I do not say you are the founder. I do not say you are anyone. I say only that the gate said ’truth,’ and the gate has said it, to my knowledge, exactly twice."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means," said Elder Jian, "that I am going to pay a great deal of attention to you."

"Is that good?"

"That depends on how you behave."

"I’m a very well-behaved person."

"You dropped a ceiling on a man."

"*Politely.*"

Elder Jian smiled, and the smile reached his eyes.

---

"Now," he said briskly, and slid a small lacquered box across the table. "There is the matter of your prize."

Daniel looked at it.

"Prize?"

"The first-place finisher of the second test is awarded one item from the guild’s Treasure Pavilion. A weapon, an elixir, or a manual." He opened the box. Inside, on a bed of red silk, lay three small wooden tablets, each carved with a different symbol. "The sword is a Heaven-Rank blade. It will cut stone. The elixir is a Breaking Pill, which advances a cultivator by one full stage."

"And the third?"

"A manual of the Nine-Layer Thunder Palm. A very fine technique."

Daniel looked at the three tablets. A sword that cut stone. A pill that would take him past Stage Three, past Long Tian, past almost everyone in the exam. A technique that would let him punch even harder than the door.

He thought about it for exactly four seconds.

"Can I ask a question first?"

"Of course."

"Slaves aren’t allowed to join the guild. Right?"

Elder Jian’s eyebrows rose slightly. "That is correct. Heaven’s Domain accepts only free persons as members. A slave may accompany a member as an attendant, but may not hold rank, be tested, or earn merit."

"And if they’re freed?"

"Then they are free."

"What does that cost?"

"A Freedom Seal." Elder Jian gestured vaguely toward the tablets. "The Registry sells them. Ten thousand gold each."

"That’s a lot of gold."

"It is a great deal."

"Do you have any in the Treasure Pavilion?"

A very small pause.

"There is a fourth item," said Elder Jian slowly, "that is not on the list. The first-place winner may, if they wish, exchange the entire prize for Freedom Seals instead. Three of them. It has been done only once before." He studied Daniel’s face. "Most boys take the sword."

"Three," Daniel repeated.

"Three."

"That’s exactly how many I need."

"I thought it might be."

Daniel did not hesitate this time. He didn’t even look at the tablets.

"Seals," he said. "Please."

Elder Jian said nothing for a long moment. Then he closed the box, tied the silk ribbon around it with careful, slow hands, and held it out.

"There is one more thing," he said. "Freed persons who register before dawn may enter the third test as late entrants. They would have to clear the cutoff on their own. The guild once lost a genius to a clerical error, and this rule was written in the aftermath." He shrugged. "It has been used twice in six hundred years."

"They’ll clear it."

"You are very sure."

"I have a lot of faith in my fan club."

Elder Jian smiled again, and this time Daniel saw that he looked, for just a second, many decades younger.

"Go," said the old man. "Tell them. And Participant Black?"

Daniel paused at the door.

"The Golden Dragon Clan will not forget the slap. Elder Long did not leave because he lost. He left because he has already decided what to do about it." Elder Jian’s face was grave. "The council will meet tonight to assign the arena for the third test. The clan has seats on that council."

"They’ll rig it."

"They will try." The old man lifted his cup. "I would be very careful. And I would sleep with one eye open."

"I only sleep with one eye open."

"Yes," said Elder Jian. "I noticed."

---

POV Switch: Fluffy

Fluffy had been waiting for Master for two hundred and nine seconds.

She had counted. She had counted by ears. Left ear twitch, right ear twitch, left ear twitch, and every time she got to ten, she started again. She sat on the steps of the finish line with her hands on her knees and her tail curled around her feet, and Cheeky stood beside her pretending not to be worried, and Mittens sat beside Cheeky pretending not to be worried either, but doing it much worse.

"He is taking a very long time," said Mittens.

"He is *Master*," said Fluffy. "Master is always late."

"He is going to get in trouble," said Cheeky.

"Master is *always* in trouble."

"That is not reassuring."

"MASTER!"

He was walking out of the pavilion with a box in his hand and the strangest look on his face. It was a soft, hard-to-read look, a look Fluffy had only seen twice before. Once when he had held Lyra’s hand in the dark, and once when he had saved Fluffy from the slave market.

Fluffy was up and running before she had finished thinking.

"Master! Master! Master! Fluffy waited! Fluffy counted two hundred and nine!"

"That’s very good, Fluffy."

"What is in the box?"

He crouched down. He took her paw in both hands. It was warm and rough, and it smelled like gunpowder and old tea.

"Fluffy," Daniel said. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me enough to hold out your hand?"

"Yes."

She held it out. He opened the box. Inside, nestled on silk, were three small seals of white jade, each carved with a single word. FREE.

Fluffy looked at them.

She looked at Master.

"Is Fluffy... is Fluffy being given away?" she whispered. Her ears had flattened against her head.

"No. No, no, no." Daniel’s voice cracked. "No. Never. You are being given to *yourself*."

"Fluffy does not understand."

"You’re free," Daniel said, softly. "You don’t belong to me. You don’t belong to anyone. These seals mean you get to choose. You get to choose whether to stay."

For a long, long moment, nothing moved.

Then Fluffy’s face crumpled. Her ears shot up. Her tail went stiff and straight, and then she let out a wail that startled birds from the pavilion roof.

"Fluffy will stay!" she howled. "Fluffy will stay forever! Fluffy will *always* stay!"

"I know," said Daniel, laughing, as she threw both arms around his neck and sobbed into his collar. "I know. You don’t have to decide now."

"Fluffy decided! Fluffy decided a long time ago!"

Cheeky had gone very, very still.

She stood on the step with her gauntlets at her sides and her mouth pressed into a thin line, and a single tear ran down her cheek, a small, bright, furious line, and she scrubbed it away with the back of her hand before anyone could see.

"I’m not crying," she said.

"I didn’t say anything."

"There’s dust."

"I know."

"It’s a very small amount of dust."

"I know, Cheeky."

Mittens had both hands over her mouth. Her ears were trembling. She had not made a sound.

Daniel set Fluffy down gently, reached into the box, and took out the third seal. He held it out to Mittens, who stared at it without moving.

"It’s yours," he said. "You don’t have to use it. But it’s yours."

Mittens took it with shaking hands.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you, thank you, thank *you*."

And she finally burst into tears.

---

Lyra and Paul had arrived at some point. Daniel noticed them over Fluffy’s head, standing at the edge of the steps, and neither of them said anything. Lyra’s arms were folded. Her eyes were suspiciously shiny. Paul had his handkerchief to his face.

"There’s dust," Paul said, muffled.

"There’s no dust," said Lyra, in a thick voice.

Daniel looked at them all, his fan club, his friends, his *family*, clustered around him on the steps of the ninth gate with tear-streaked faces and wet sleeves, and found that his own eyes had gone hot and blurry.

*Boring,* he told himself. *This is boring.*

It did not work.

Somewhere on the other side of the plaza, a golden-armored woman with a long braid stood alone at the edge of the crowd, watching the scene with an unreadable face. She did not smile. She did not look away. And when Daniel glanced over, she turned abruptly and walked off into the evening, her shoulders very straight.

[Affection Level: Su Wan: -4%]

Then, from the pavilion above, a horn sounded, long and low.

"ATTENTION, PARTICIPANTS," said Elder Jian’s voice, rolling out across the gorge. "THE SECOND TEST IS CONCLUDED. ONE HUNDRED PARTICIPANTS REMAIN. THE THIRD TEST, STRENGTH, WILL BEGIN IN TWO DAYS. THE ARENA WILL BE ANNOUNCED AT DAWN."

The crowd began to murmur.

"One hundred," Lyra whispered. "We’re in the hundred."

"We all are," said Paul, looking at the board.

Daniel looked up. The great golden board hung over the finish line, glowing in the sunset, a hundred names stacked in lines of light. His own at the top. Yun Xi’s second. Long Tian’s third. And somewhere in the middle, Lyra’s, Paul’s, Brick Head’s, Su Wan’s, and a hundred strangers.

"Two days," Daniel said.

"Two days," said Lyra.

"Fluffy will win the strength test!" Fluffy declared, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "Fluffy will lift a mountain!"

"You are three feet tall," said Cheeky.

"Fluffy is *four*!"

"That is not a mountain."

"Fluffy will find a small mountain!"

Daniel laughed. He put one arm around Fluffy’s shoulders and the other around Mittens’, and turned his face up to the evening sky, to the pale first stars over the gorge.

Two days.

A third test.

A clan that wanted his head, a girl who carried a sleeping sister, and a founder who had wanted exactly what he wanted.

He cracked his knuckles.

"Let’s go eat," he said. "I’m starving."