Someone Beyond the Mountains

The gray-robed man sat in the purchasing shop with three bags of silver beside him.

When Helian Yuan entered, the man was examining a level-three Red-Maned Wolf pelt. There was a spear wound below its neck, and Helian Yuan had cut away the hunter's mark on the inside, leaving no record of himself.

The buyer looked up and cursed. "The one who owes me money is here."

Only then did the gray-robed man look at Helian Yuan.

He was about forty, with a pale complexion. His fingers lacked the thick calluses common among hunters; only the side of his right index finger bore a patch of hardened skin from years of holding a brush. He looked less like a man who received goods than one responsible for recording them.

"You killed the wolf?" the gray-robed man asked.

"Found it."

"You can even find a level-three magical beast?"

"Once it's dead, you can."

The gray-robed man smiled without asking further about the wound. He pushed one of the silver bags to the edge of the counter. "I buy tiger materials. A hundred coins for an intact pelt. Teeth and bones are priced by weight. If you can lead me to a den, it's twenty coins for the way there."

Helian Yuan looked at the silver bag. "Do I get paid even if I'm wrong?"

A flicker of something passed through the gray-robed man's eyes.

"Of course it has to be right."

"Your man said I wouldn't have to return the money if I was wrong."

The shop fell silent for a moment.

The buyer lowered his head and worked his abacus as though he hadn't heard.

The gray-robed man was still smiling. "My man misspoke. We do business for the long term. We don't cheat hunters."

Helian Yuan reached out and took the wolf pelt. "Then I'm not selling."

"Why?"

"Your man's rules aren't the same as yours."

"Buying wolf pelts has nothing to do with tiger leads."

"If you can't even agree on the rules, the price might not hold either."

Helian Yuan rolled up the pelt and headed out.

The gray-robed man didn't stop him. Only when he reached the door did the man speak. "Part of the road to Blackwater Ravine collapsed recently. Did you know?"

Helian Yuan didn't break stride.

"Everyone in town knows."

"But nobody in town knows there are iron tags in the cave," the gray-robed man said. "If you've found any old iron with numbers carved on it, it's worthless, and keeping it will only bring trouble. I can dispose of it for you."

This was no longer a probe about tiger goods.

The other party had already confirmed that someone had entered the numbered area; they just didn't know who.

Helian Yuan looked back. "What numbers?"

The gray-robed man looked into his eyes. "Which one have you seen?"

"Name your price first."

"Different numbers have different prices."

"Then there's no way to sell."

He continued toward the door.

The gray-robed man finally stood. "Seven."

Helian Yuan stopped just outside the threshold, like a poor hunter drawn in by the high price. Only then did he turn back. "How much?"

"A hundred coins."

That was more than a whole level-three Red-Maned Wolf pelt was worth.

What he was buying wasn't the iron tag, but how much the person holding it knew.

Helian Yuan put the wolf pelt back on the counter. "You can have the pelt for twenty coins."

The buyer jerked his head up. "Are you mad?"

"I need money."

The gray-robed man glanced at the pelt. "A moment ago, you wouldn't sell."

"The iron tag is worth a hundred coins, but I haven't seen one. The wolf pelt is worth twenty, and I can get that today."

It was plainly a losing deal.

And precisely because he was taking a loss, he looked just like someone tempted by a high price but without a real lead in hand. If Helian Yuan insisted on selling nothing, the gray-robed man would remain suspicious; by handing over an ordinary wolf pelt now, he instead gave the man an explanation-the wild brat was just greedy and suspicious.

The gray-robed man counted twenty coins out of the silver bag.

Helian Yuan didn't haggle. He took the money and left.

The buyer's expression was ugly, but he didn't expose the deception. Only after Helian Yuan had gone halfway down the street did he chase out through the back door and throw a small bundle of dry rations into his arms.

"That pelt of yours was worth at least forty."

"I know."

"You knew and sold it anyway?"

"I let him buy something."

The buyer understood, and his expression grew even uglier. "Don't do this kind of thing in my shop again."

"You can refuse."

"If I refuse, he'll be even more convinced we're up to something." The buyer gritted his teeth. "These rations go on your tab. Twenty coins."

"Too expensive."

"Take them or leave them."

Helian Yuan accepted the rations.

This was the first time the buyer had made his boundaries clear: he could cooperate once, but didn't want to be dragged in as an accomplice. Helian Yuan didn't promise not to use his shop next time. He simply remembered that the man had the right to refuse.

Helian Yuan stopped at the riverbank south of town and divided the twenty silver coins again. Six went toward his earlier debt, eight were exchanged for torches, oil, and dry rations, four were set aside for medicine on the return trip, and the final two were hidden in a crack between stones by the river.

When the gray-robed man bought the pelt, he also bought the spear wound, the smell of blood, and any Blackwater Ravine mud that might have remained on it. Helian Yuan wasn't sure whether the man would send someone to follow those traces back to the stone house, so he had to reach the cave entrance before the pelt did.

After chasing him down, the buyer hadn't accepted the six coins toward his debt, instead pushing them back into the bag. "I'm not doing this for you. If the gray-robed man treats every hunter in town as a lead, I won't even be able to buy ordinary pelts anymore."

"Then you're doing it for the shop."

"Exactly."

Both had given sufficiently self-interested reasons, which made things simpler. Helian Yuan took back the silver coins and didn't mistake the buyer's choice for unconditional support.

He didn't return to the hunting shelter. He left directly from the south of town, then circled into the eastern mountains. The gray-robed man's carriage didn't follow immediately, but at the second fork, Helian Yuan spotted a fresh wheel track.

The other party had at least sent someone to confirm his direction.

Helian Yuan deliberately followed the trade road for five li, then entered the water where a stream branched in several directions and headed upstream, returning to the north side of Blackwater Ravine. By nightfall, he had circled around behind the old camp.

The iron nail to the right of the cave entrance was still there, but its head had been turned inward.

Helian Yuan didn't touch the nail head immediately. He first circled the cave entrance and found two patches of flattened wet grass and a small stone that had been turned over. Whoever had come had stayed outside for at least a while, perhaps waiting for a companion, or perhaps listening for sounds inside the cave. The footprints ended heading west, but there was a faint drag mark along the edge of the mud, leading back to the entrance.

When that person went in, they had carried something that touched the ground; when they came out, that thing had been left inside the cave.

Helian Yuan made a mental note of the difference. If he went in now, he might not only be pursuing someone who had gone ahead, but also following whatever the other person had left behind deeper inside.

Someone had moved the nail without pulling it out.

This was no ordinary passerby. The visitor had recognized the nail as a marker and answered with its direction: I went in.

He first ate half a piece of dry flatbread, then took two mouthfuls of water. The cave entrance was right in front of him, but his body still felt drained from the journey. If he mistook that eagerness for courage, he would pay for it the first time he needed to exert himself inside.

Helian Yuan lit a torch and tied a hemp rope around his waist, securing the other end to a stone post outside the cave. He added a wrist cord to his short spear and divided fifteen iron nails between two pouches at his sides.

He moved aside a rock, leaving an opening just wide enough for a person to pass through sideways.

Cold wind rushed against his face.

The first thing he saw inside wasn't a cage, but a flight of stone steps leading down. Small pieces of cold-glowing ore were embedded in the walls on either side every few steps. The light was extremely faint, just enough to outline the edges of iron chains.

Helian Yuan descended a dozen or so steps.

The first iron tag was engraved with "three."

The second was engraved with "thirteen."

Farther in, a rusty iron door stood at the end of the narrow passage. There were no words on the door, only a small tag nailed to it, polished bright from wear.

Seven.

A faint dragging sound came from behind the door.

It didn't sound like a living creature struggling.

It sounded like someone had just dragged a chain across the ground.