At dawn on his thirty-seventh day at the workshop, thick white mist rolled down the cliffs of Red Mist Valley. Water dripped from the overhangs. The market was still asleep.
Pei Jing buckled the pack harness across his chest. The new void-mouse pouch sat flat at his hip. He packed two hundred whole spirit stones with the herbs, food, and climbing gear. He kept three quartz vials wrapped in the padded carrier until he could fill it with ice. The red stone, tallow, pills, and warehouse pass could still be useful. The heavier weapons stayed in the scrap. The map and the cauldron deed went in last.
He knelt by the stone base and lifted the Three-Legged Mottled Brass Cauldron with both hands. The four buckles of his crocodile-hide harness fastened around its waist ring. Two bronze feet rode against his hips and the third rested between his shoulders. The harness put seventy percent of the load on his hips, just as he’d planned.
Pei Jing stood. Eighty-six pounds of leaded bronze rode on his back. Marrow Washing had built the bones to take it. With eighty units of liquid qi in his Layer Six dantian, he felt the weight settle into his stride.
