Chapter Text
The DixingShen cultivation sect was unlike any other.
No one knew when it had been founded. It was ancient, ungodly ancient, older than all the other sects that surrounded it. Maybe combined. But it was also secretive and guarded, and the cultivation world knew close to nothing about its inner workings. The sect itself was located inside a mountain, and only an impressive entrance of sculpted black rock was visible from the exterior. The rest of the sect was hidden from the gaze of outsiders, who could only stare at a dark cliffside while coming up with wild theories about what was going on on the inside.
Nobody had ever been invited to join the DixingShen sect.
As with all details about it, its number of members was perfectly unknown. It could have been as low as one, and it could have been as high as several thousand. What did they eat? Or drink? No sect member ever left the mountain to acquire food or cultivate crops. But the sect still stood, its entrance impeccably polished, and while it did not take part into the matters of the cultivation world, it reminded everyone of its existence yearly when, inevitably, its Envoy showed up at the annual discussion conference.
The Envoy was a pale-skinned man with a soft voice and elegant manners, but that was about the extent of what people knew about him. He wore a cloak and robes made of a heavy black fabric, always kept his hood on, and most of his face was obscured by a black mask decorated with intricate gold detailing. He carried a sword, like everyone else, but it was a deep grey dao instead of the usual jian used by most cultivators.
No sect wanted to be the first to omit inviting the oldest of all sects to their annual discussion conference, so the DixingShen sect was always sent an invitation, and the Envoy came every time, alone. It had been this way for as long as anyone could remember, but the man stayed the same, and no wrinkle ever seemed to appear on the limited amount of skin that was visible to others. His level of cultivation had to be extremely high, higher than anybody else for him to be eternally young like this, and therefore no one dared to do anything that could potentially offend him.
Not that the Envoy seemed to be thin-skinned. On the contrary, he always spoke calmly and without malice, and showed no reaction to what was discussed during the conferences. He always opened his mouth to answer questions, never to ask them. But “answer” may have been a bit presumptuous a word here, as his response to most queries was always that the DixingShen sect would not intervene into the matters of the rest of the cultivation world. He never gave his opinion, didn’t take part in any vote, and simply listened to the discussions politely, attentively, but most of all silently.
His name was unknown. Over the years, people had started calling him Hei Pao Shi, the Black-Cloaked Envoy, and when a more daring sect leader asked for his name directly, he replied that Hei Pao Shi suited him just fine, and that they could keep calling him that. The sect leader was disappointed, but not surprised. He had expected such an answer.
Hei Pao Shi was the only member of his sect who was known to the rest of the world.
The DixingShen sect always said that it would not intervene into the matters of the rest of the cultivation world, and it kept its word. It never sent out disciples, never received any either. When the QishanWen sect sent an “invitation” to all the junior disciples of the other sects, DixingShen gave no reply and no junior crossed its threshold. Wen Ruohan was disappointed, but not surprised. He had expected such a response. It did not hinder his plans in any way, as he was strongly confident that as long as he didn’t threaten DixingShen directly, he could do anything he wanted to the remaining sects and the secretive undergrounders would let him be. And they did.
Then the Sunshot Campaign erupted, and during the months of incessant fighting and bloodshed many from both sides sent letters or came to knock at the doors of DixingShen. The letters were sent back unopened and the ones who came in person met with an impassible Hei Pao Shi, who sent them away calmly but firmly.
The DixingShen sect kept its word.
The campaigners won and QishanWen was almost eradicated. A huge banquet was held to celebrate the victory, and out of habit, an invitation was sent to the Dixing Mountain. Many disagreed with that decision, as they didn’t think that a sect that hadn’t participated in the campaign should be welcome to sit among them. But practicality won over the dissident voices, as it was easier, and safer, to stay in the good graces of DixingShen, even if those good graces were limited to impassivity and calm words. And such, Hei Pao Shi made his entrance in the Nightless City hall, and all conversations came to a sudden halt. The Envoy didn’t seem to notice, or care, and waited for a young disciple to show him to his table. It was several spots away of its usual placement, but he paid it no mind. He drank the tea that was given to him, thanked the assembly for its welcome, and fell into his characteristic silence. Gradually, conversations started again, eyes left his black-cloaked figure, and light-hearted noise filled the hall.
Until it became abruptly silent again.
For another black-clothed figure had made his entrance.
The newcomer was a young man with a red ribbon in his hair, who carried a flute instead of a sword. He was smiling, but the smile was steely, and his grey eyes were devoid of warmth. Hei Pao Shi didn’t remember having seen him before, but that was unsurprising. The man seemed young enough to have been a junior disciple during previous discussion conferences, and Hei Pao Shi never attended the competitions organized to show off the juniors’ talents.
He did not recognize Wei Wuxian.
But he recognized his power.
Had someone been looking at the DixingShen Envoy, they would have seen his eyes open wide and his pupils dilate. They would have seen him become straighter than an i and his hands clench his robes. But someone more interesting to the attendance had made his arrival, and nobody was looking at Hei Pao Shi.
The Envoy took a long breath, regained his composure, and listened attentively to what followed.