That night, there were two pieces of perfectly tinted parchment under Chang-li's sleeping mat. He stored them at once between two pages of his journal. Min had made it quite clear. Her price was for him to forge a license for Brother Stone as well, and get both of them into the tower. Otherwise… well, her threat had been unvoiced. She didn’t need to say it.

When his fellows had gone to bed, he got up from his mat and snuck into the supply room, where he stole sticks of the correct ink. The seal he would have to forge belonged to the high cultivator overseer of the camp, a separate office from the scribes. Chang-li did, however, steal the two colors of wax he would melt together to create the perfect shade of gold. Then he waited for his opportunity.

Over the next couple of days, three more sects arrived in camp. An atmosphere of excitement was taking hold everywhere. It was nearly time to really begin efforts to cull this tower. The newly arrived cultivators would be clearing out floors three and four first. Once the danger level there was reduced, they would be permitted to enter the fifth floor to take on the challenges and claim the rewards there. But that was likely several months off. For now, the roster of cultivator parties was growing by the day. Two and even three groups would enter the tower, taking Chang-li's fellow scribes with them.

The other scribes swapped bets on which sect would get an early lead on the race for first position on floor five, the top floor of this tower, and the only one with a proper entrance stone. "I have made great progress toward Bodily Refinement," Scribe Chi boasted. "I have already felt great changes within myself."

It was evening, and the scribes were in their dorm, Chang-li thinking about how he could get his hands on the Office of Cultivation's seal. Conversely, he pondered how he could remove his name from the banned list. It wouldn’t do much good to have a license if his name was on that.

Scribe Deng looked skeptical. "What would you know about cultivation, Chi? You probably are just feeling the results of an honest day's labor. You've been looking pretty pallid, sitting at your post all day writing out lists. This is just what it feels like to have to work for a living."

"No, I tell you, I've made progress," Chi insisted.

"Has your core condensed?" Chang-li asked idly as he pondered whether perhaps he'd be better off putting a false name on the certificate. No, too many people here knew him. Besides, he wanted to be able to cultivate under his own name. Bad enough to have a forged license, but one in somebody else's name? That was just asking for trouble.

"What are you talking about?" Scribe Chi asked.

"Core condensing?" Scribe Shi asked. "What's that? Are you holding out on us? Scribe Wu? Do you know cultivation then?"

"Uh, sorry," he said, scrambling to cover himself. Of course, scribes didn't know the ins and outs of cultivation. He'd had the manual, as well as Joshi's teachings to help him. “I overheard some cultivators talking while I was performing the camp census.”

“Really? What else did you hear?” Now they were far too interested.

Chang-li shook his head and stuttered. “Uh, I don’t know. They were talking about esoteric theory, combining colors of lux and all sorts of things. It went over my head.”

That seemed to mollify the others. Chang-li withdrew into himself.

"Anyway, did you hear the news?" Scribe Shi asked. "Inspector Ji’in is being recalled. His replacement is coming up from Golden Moon City tomorrow.”

Chang-li jerked his head up. "What?"

Scribe Deng grinned. "They say it's for drunkenness on the job, but really it's because the new inspector is the nephew of the Chief of Cultivation here in Riceflower province.”

Now that was an opportunity. Inspector Ji'in had been the one to add his name to the list of banned cultivators. If Chang-li could get it removed, the new inspector wouldn't know he'd ever been on it.

"Scribe Shi, you were supposed to work in the Office of Cultivation tomorrow, aren't you?"

Shi scowled. "Yes, I'd much rather be on a tower party again, but they say we're not permitted to go two days in a row. I don't know how they're going to keep that unless the new inspector brings a lot of junior scribes with him. There just aren't enough of us now that all the sects have arrived."

"Yes, of course," Chang-li said. "I have to do work in the Quartermaster's office again, and I'd rather not. Swap with me?"

"Why should I? Quartermaster work is boring."

"I'll toss in the two gold I made playing shaka the other night.”

Scribe Shi perked up. "Really? Just for swapping?"

"One shift swap now, two others to be called in at my leisure."

"One now, one later," Shi countered.

"Done."

Chang-li had not been to the Office of Cultivation since returning from the tower himself. Now that there were several dozen cultivators of various ranks in the camp, the office had grown from its sleepy beginnings to a bustling hub of activity. The office was in the top section of camp. Two different sects had taken over buildings in the area to house them: Whispering Moons and another newcomer, Jade Lotus.

Several Jade Lotus cultivators were out in the square as Chang-li approached in the dawn light, working on their cycling. They wore green and yellow banded robes and were led by a sect master pushing the limits of the spiritual refinement tier. Chang-li could feel the density of his lux boiling off him. Stopping in the shadow of a nearby building, Chang-li watched. The master was using a cycling technique similar to the Swirling Mists Chang-li had employed inside the tower to empty himself of undesired lux, and his disciples channeled an opposed cycle technique.

After a moment, Chang-li realized the disciples were taking in some fraction of the lux put out by the master. Chang-li was in awe of the sheer density of the master's lux to be able to pour it out into the lux-poor air of the cultivation camp in sufficient quantities for his underlings to absorb. Not wanting to be caught staring, Chang-li hurried along to the Office of Cultivation. There, he presented himself to the chief clerk. While the office had its own staff of clerks, they were required to submit all official records to a licensed scribe. Chang-li carried a scroll seal from the scribe's office to stamp all the office's official paperwork.

He was shown to a counter on the outskirt of the office's busy main room and presented with a stack of papers to go through. At first, Chang-li read through each carefully, looking for errors, but he quickly determined that they were largely identical records, having been submitted by each sect as it arrived, containing the details of the sect's cultivators and copies of their licenses. Chang-li's duty was to correlate these records against the roster created by the Office of Cultivation. In turn, the roster would be used to compile party lists and also the input list for the guards on duty outside the tower, who would check against the cultivators' licenses before allowing them inside.

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Chang-li got to work. He surreptitiously paged through earlier records, and there it was—his own name on a page from nearly three weeks ago with a "Cultivation Denied" note beside it. As he sat down to work, he considered how best to excise his name. He couldn't merely scratch it out; that would be noticed in a heartbeat. It listed his name, his profession, and his auxiliary cultivation license number, which had been revoked. While drafting his own license, he would certainly use a different number as he was giving himself a full license, not an auxiliary.

Perhaps he could change his name for someone else’s, but if he put down the name of a scribe not in the camp, it would be noticed. He didn't want to try to forge the occupation as well. All of the records cross-checked. His license number was one issued to scribes ending with a seven.

He had made plans for this eventuality. Scribe Dai, who had perished in the cultivation tower, had a family name not too dissimilar to his own. It was simpler, with entirely different forward strokes, but it might be possible for him to change the Wu into an approximation of Dai. Then, he could change his personal name, Chang-li, to something else.

It was risky, but he was counting on no one really scrutinizing that page. It would need to be legible enough for the clerk who made up the entry lists not to have to work too hard to change the entry.

Chang-li was going to have to try a trick for removing ink from a page. It was not exactly part of the usual scribe's repertoire, but Chang-li had learned it from a fellow student at his scribing school from another humble background. The other boy had often been willing to forge documents for people in their quarter of the city, and while it would not work on the higher-grade parchment used for licenses and such, on the cheap paper used for record-keeping here, which contained a great deal of cotton fiber, it should be doable.

Chang-li waited until he had the flow of the office’s activities. Then he carefully turned to the correct page. He drew a solution from his soulspace that he had spent most of last night crafting. It contained a bit of bleach, a little milk, and just a hint of honey bound together with an alchemist's salve he'd had to spend six silver on.

Carefully, he touched the substance with one finger of his left hand. Then, as though resting his hand on the page, he smeared the substance across his own personal name, leaving the rest of the entry untouched. He quickly flipped back to the records he was supposed to be working on to give the substance time. It should only take a matter of minutes.

There was a disruption in the room. Chang-li looked up and turned away from his book. Newcomers were entering. They wore traveling clothes and were covered in dust. There were six of them, and one, with his rich woven tunic and elaborate headdress, was clearly important.

This must be the new boss of the cultivation. Accompanying him was Chang-li's superior, Inspector Ji'in. Chang-li at once ducked his eyes to avoid attention. The newcomers stepped into the office. The scribes and clerks at once presented themselves, bowing low over folded hands as the newcomer made his appearance.

Chang-li listened intently. The newly arrived master of cultivation was a man named Bao Zedong. With him was his nephew, Dah Haixin, who would be replacing Inspector Ji'in as head of the scribes. Master Bao had a presence stronger than young Master Feng's by a good bit. Chang-li guessed he was approaching the peak of spiritual refinement. Master Bao spoke with a touch of a country accent. He looked to be in his mid-30s.

His nephew, who Chang-li thought was working on his physical refinement tier, looked almost as old himself. It was possible Master Bao had mastered enough cultivation to have arrested his own aging. His eyes were keen as he swept his gaze around the room, taking in everyone. He lingered on Chang-li for a moment before turning to the others.

"Inspector Ji'in, my thanks for your escort here. Please take my nephew and acquaint him with his duties. The caravan leaves for Golden Moon City tomorrow at dawn, and I am certain you will wish to be part of it."

"Of course, Magistrate," Inspector Ji'in said with a low bow. "Please do not hesitate to contact me if there's anything I can do to ease this transition."

"Yes, yes," Magistrate Bao said, dismissing Inspector Ji'in and his replacement. Two of the new arrivals went with them. Chang-li guessed they were new scribes. That left the other three men as the magistrate's underlings. Two of them wore the symbol of the Office of Cultivation, a tower with a moon rising above it. The younger two's symbol was a brooch carved of wood pinned to their tunics. The third man, who had hard, cold eyes and long hair tied back behind him, had a silver pin and a silver bow tied to his head. That meant he was an Inquisitor.

Chang-li had never crossed paths with an Inquisitor before. They served the Emperor and had great leeway in dispensing justice and punishment. He shivered.

Magistrate Bao summoned the clerks around him. The Inquisitor stood to one side, watching. Terror crept up Chang-li as he bent over his records, not really looking at them. If he did not wipe away the solution he had applied soon, it would burn a hole in the paper. Yet if the Inquisitor or the magistrate were to notice him, he could face imprisonment or worse. Not daring to breathe, Chang-li slipped a tiny unguent pot full of the second solution from inside his sleeve. He touched it to his finger, then folded back the pages until he found his record. One dab atop the now blank portion of the page, and he flipped back, letting out a sigh of relief.

"This cultivation tower attempt is attracting more attention than the chief officials in Golden Moon City had expected," Magistrate Bao was telling the clerks. "Hence, I have been sent from Hyok Nin to oversee matters. The governor fears that if the foreign cultivators are not kept under watch, they may shirk in their duty. How many sects have presented themselves?"

"Five, Your Excellency," one of the clerks supplied. He listed them off.

Magistrate Bao nodded. "Yes, all of them have solid reputations. I do not share the governor's concerns, but," he shrugged, "one does not refuse an assignment from a provincial governor. Anything out of the ordinary with this cull?”

“One of the early parties to enter the tower suffered severe losses. Several soldiers, clerks, and over a dozen slaves. The Soaring Heavens sect has stated that the responsibility lay with the soldiers, who were not adequately trained, but has accepted the responsibility of the financial recompense."

"Good," the magistrate said smoothly. "How many expedition parties since?"

"Well over a dozen. None have encountered similar issues. Soaring Heavens declared that the tower beasts within the tower are a higher strength than the floor suggests. Whispering Moons, who has sent in four parties, disagrees, but Jade Lotus supports Soaring Heavens' suggestion."

"Then we may have to increase the timeframe for the third floor," the magistrate said.

The inquisitor spoke up for the first time. "On the contrary, we must hasten matters along."

The magistrate jerked as though he'd been stabbed. Chang-li perceived that though the magistrate wore the elaborate robes and received the deference of the others, the inquisitor held power he did not.

The inquisitor continued, "I shall venture in with the next party and make my own assessment, but if this tower has an increased lux strength, we must hasten the culling process lest it erupt. You must remember, broken towers such as this one are more likely, not less, to erupt. Any signs of lux outside the ordinary tolerances should be noted. Be sure to have the scribes accompanying cultivation parties equipped with luxometers and to take readings at regular intervals."

"Of course," the magistrate said stiffly. He took a deep breath. "Someone show me to my office."

A moment later, the outer room was nearly empty. Chang-li took a deep breath and flipped back to the page where his name had once been. There, he altered Wu to Dai, the scribe who had perished when young Master Feng's intransigence brought death down on their party, before adding an entirely fictitious personal name; he’d never known Dai’s. The deed done, Chang-li returned to his own tasks.

Later that afternoon, he was summoned to the magistrate's office to take an official letter down. Chang-li dutifully copied down the magistrate's words as the magistrate dictated a succinct list of which sects had joined the attempt, what they had reported, and who their most promising cultivators were.

"You'll need to add a full list of cultivators," the magistrate said after the letter was concluded. "And then it shall be delivered to the caravan master to be taken down tomorrow."

"Yes, of course, sir.” Chang-li spotted his opportunity, he added, "Shall I return this to you for your seal, or—"

The magistrate shook his head. "I must go and pay my regards to the Dowager Pearl and coordinate with her interactions between the Court of Gems and the cultivators. These matters must be managed. My seal is in the drawer of my desk."

"Yes, of course, sir.” Chang-li bowed low. "Of course, sir."

When he had finished filing the records and confirmed that the magistrate had gone out, he returned to the room, sat on the floor at the low desk, withdrew the seal, and quickly, pulling the two still blank sheets of parchment from his soulspace, proceeded to seal them with the mark of the Office of Cultivation.

His heart still racing, Chang-li forced himself to concentrate on his duties so that no scribe would have to be summoned the next day to finish it. He wanted to leave as much time as possible before anyone might detect his forgery.

That night, he sat up late in the darkness, writing out his name and Brother Stone's on their brand-new cultivation licenses.