Chapter Text
Walking onto Qiong Ding was always a somewhat intimidating experience. There was nothing quite like it with its stately buildings and perfectly manicured gardens. At least in the areas accessible to out-of-sect visitors disciples walked with perfect grace and manners. All of them looked like they had something very important to be doing right now, unlike you. Their black, white and grey silk uniforms had long skirts reaching the ground and wide sleeves sweeping with each movement.
All in all, Shen Yuan felt rather out of place. His disciple’s uniform was in a practical deep green hemp fabric and his sleeves were tucked into plain brown leather bracers. The fanciest thing he wore was the simple bronze guan keeping his ponytail in place, and the decorations on his belt in the same metal as well as the stone ornament hanging from it. He had to resist the urge to straighten out the bow slung across his back and the spiritual sword strapped to his waist as he made his way along the straight pathways. Or even the arrows in his quiver. Yeah, Qiong Ding really was nothing like Zhen Cha, his own peak, with its winding forest paths and animal pastures. The Qiong Ding-disciples and masters were surely not looking at him, he told himself. They had more important things to do than judge one of dozens or hundreds of their shidimei and shizhi who were sent on errands to their peak every day.
Claws dug gently into his shoulder, and he released a breath. “You’re right, Xiao Mei.”
Reaching up to scratch the three-headed, three legged shadow crane under one of her heads, he nodded at her where she made herself at home. As a shadow crane, she could grow and shrink at her pleasure, and right now her pleasure was riding on his shoulder. Her colours were inverted from a regular crane: most of her was pitch black, with only a few white feathers under her neck and her underwings. The bright red spot on top of her head remained, though.
Her white eyes stared at him, judging him. “Yes, I know,” he conceded. “They don’t care. And I shouldn’t care what they think either. I just don’t want shifu to regret her faith in me.”
She squawked, as if offended. Shen Yuan snorted.
They approached the head disciple’s office, and he straightened automatically as a disciple approached him. After giving her his note from shifu, she allowed him in to wait with everyone else who apparently was hoping to see the Qiong Ding head disciple today. Most were fellow Cang Qiong-disciples, but some wore clothing that led him to believe they must at the very least be from other sects, if not some kind of official. A few glanced at Xiao Mei with curiosity or even disgust. Shen Yuan resisted the urge to glare back.
“Don’t worry about them,” he murmured to her, stroking her soft feathers. They were as shiny as oil and almost as slippery. “They’re just jealous that they don’t get to have you.” Having a demonic beast as a spiritual companion was rare, though more common on Zhen Cha than in most places. They specialized in a few things, after all, and one of those was the breeding of useful beasts. Whether they were useful alive – such as shadow cranes, helpful in espionage and tracking – or dead – for Qian Cao medicines – varied. Many were useful both ways.
The seats in the waiting room were comfortable enough, and it was easy to fall into a semi-meditative state while he waited. Eventually, one of the assistants called out, “Disciple Shen of Zhen Cha? Head Disciple Yue will see you now.”
Standing up, Shen Yuan straightened out his robes with one movement before bowing to the assistant. He was ushered into the office.
It was an impressive room; enormous and stately. A giant writing desk took up the centre of it, with plenty of seating for visitors. Books and décor that was probably worth a house or two adorned shelves along the walls, as well as a few beautifully painted scrolls hanging on said walls. Yue Qingyuan, the future sect leader of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, sat by the desk. His black and grey robes were immaculate; half of his dark brown hair held back from his tan face by an impressive guan designed to look like a mountain. He was exceptionally handsome. Shen Yuan dipped into a deep bow.
“Disciple Shen,” Yue Qingyuan began, tone pleasant. Shen Yuan straightened, meeting his gaze. Yue Qingyuan blinked, whatever he had been about to follow up with clearly disappearing from his mind. Confusion and concern washed over his face, and Shen Yuan couldn’t help but frown. What? Surely he didn’t look that out of place! He was a perfectly respectable senior disciple!
“Xiao Jiu?” Yue Qingyuan asked, startling him out of his thoughts. Huh? “Did you- When did you switch peaks? Did something happen?”
Such genuine worry shone in his eyes, and Shen Yuan did not know what to make of it at all. Who the fuck was Xiao Jiu? Clearing the frown off his face, he bowed again. “Apologies, shixiong,” he said. “This one’s name is Shen Yuan. This one has been at Zhen Cha Peak since he arrived at the sect when he was eleven.” A whole ten years ago!
“Shen… Yuan,” Yue Qingyuan said after a moment, as though testing the name out. There was something off about his tone, and Shen Yuan didn’t like it. Something almost sharp. But he straightened, and nodded. Yet another beat passed. Then, the head disciple continued, “Very well. What business did you have here, Shen-shidi?”
The flip back to business was disorienting, and it took him a moment to gather himself again. Finally, Shen Yuan explained, “Shifu wished for this one to tell Qiong Ding that Ouyang-shixiong officially will depart from his position as head disciple in one month’s time.”
“I see,” Yue Qingyuan replied, tilting his head slightly. There was a compassionate note to it. “He has not gotten over his fears, then?” Ouyang Qian had been mauled and nearly killed by a Short-Tailed Butterfly Iguana whilst on a scouting mission. Their shimei had dragged him back to the sect, but ever since, he had started choking and shaking in panic whenever someone asked him to travel further than the town at the bottom of their peak. Shifu had given him a year to get over it, but her patience had run out. They were only a year or two, at most, from the generational change of peak lords, after all.
With a shake of his head, Shen Yuan agreed. “Shifu says that a head disciple who cannot bear to leave the mountain cannot fulfil their duties.”
“I see. Such a shame. Does Feng-shishu have a replacement in mind?”
“Not officially, shixiong.” And indeed, nothing had been made official yet. Probably because it would be in poor taste to do so before he had even ‘given up’ the title. But everyone on Zhen Cha knew who the next head disciple would be, because he was the one fulfilling all the duties of one that Ouyang-shixiong couldn’t handle: Shen Yuan.
Xiao Mei squawked at his shoulder, as though she wanted to point this out. Surely that wasn’t it, though, because intelligent as she was, abstract human conversation was not something she could comprehend beyond the basics such as ‘sleep, and ‘sad’, and ‘stop trying to eat Jiang-shidi’s pet mouse’.
Yue Qingyuan nodded. “I will let shizun know. Was there anything else, shidi?”
When given a negative, they each bid farewell. But even as Shen Yuan left, he could feel the other’s gaze burrowing into his back.
Genuinely what was his problem?
Getting back on his own peak was a relief. Shen Yuan stepped off his sword in a spot dwarfed by the evergreen trees. The scent of pine washed over him as he raised a hand in greeting to his fellow disciples and smiled. An Opal Moonlight Lynx marched past with a scroll tied around its neck, ignoring everyone as it went on with its delivery business. Xiao Mei snapped in the air in its direction. Once it disappeared, she grew into the regular size of a crane. When she took flight he simply waved as she disappeared toward the bog that sat farther down the mountain, closer to town. She’d be back when she felt like it or he needed her.
The houses and sheds that lined the path were beautiful but robust, the kind that a wealthy man in a small village might build. At least if he had taste and didn’t feel the need to needlessly lord his wealth over his neighbours, which was admittedly a rare trait among the moneyed. Shen Yuan would know. He grew up among them. From what he understood, his parents had had a stroke of luck with their business when he was only a year old and raised themselves from poverty into the wealthy merchant class. Him, gege and meimei had wanted for nothing whilst growing up. His fingers brushed over the smooth white stone of the lotus root ornament hanging from his waist – a gift from his family when he was made an inner disciple. Both above and below it, muted red string tied into decorative brocade knots Li-mei had made for him to bless him with good fortune and family unity. A tassel finished the accessory off at knee-height. He missed them. Whilst he was able to visit them more now since he was made a senior disciple at nineteen, it was simply too busy to be part of a sect to go home often. But Li-mei was getting married next year, and shifu had already promised him extended leave for that.
Master Yu, one of shifu’s assistants, let him in when he arrived at the peak lord’s office. Shen Yuan bowed. “This disciple greets shifu.”
“A-Yuan,” Feng Haiying greeted, smiling at him when he stood straight again. “Did you speak to Yue-shizhi?” The Zhen Cha Peak Lord was a woman of indeterminate age, though judging from the date of her generation’s ascension she ought to be around 250 years old. A few strands of her pitch-black hair had started greying where it was held in place in a tight bun by her peak lord’s guan. It was a new development: those had not been there when Shen Yuan was admitted into the sect. Like him and his martial siblings, and unlike most of her fellow peak lords, she dressed for practicality. Her dark green pao robe was embroidered with forest motifs, but in a way that would make her almost melt into the background of their peak if she so pleased, and her black trousers showed beneath them. Her sleeves were folded into bracers, as well, though hers were decorated with intricate leatherwork.
Shen Yuan had considered taking his to an artisan to get something similar done. It was allowed, as a senior disciple, to add your own touch to your uniform. And once he graduated to a proper master, he could dress however he liked, as long as he kept to the theme. “I did, shifu. Yue-shixiong will tell zhangmen-shibo.”
He considered telling her about the Qiong Ding head disciple’s weird behaviour, but really, it wasn’t that important. Surely, future sect leaders were allowed to be a little eccentric.
“Good. You may send someone to tell Qi-er, or do so yourself.”
“Of course, shifu.” He held back a wince at the thought. While Ouyang-shixiong likely would feel some measure of relief at no longer having to try to force himself off the mountain, it must be awful to be forced out of the position he had worked so hard for. And so soon before the Ascension, too. Shen Yuan knew that shifu even had a courtesy name prepared for him for when she planned to name him the peak’s official heir. He took a breath and focused his thoughts back on her. “Is there anything else this disciple can do for shifu?”
“Not at this time. But Master Tang mentioned a night hunt for Venom-Devouring Pandas.”
The glint in her eye told him how predictable he was when he perked up. A grin split his face, and excitement sparked under his skin. Venom-Devouring Pandas were, as the name hinted, giant panda bears whose saliva had the ability to treat dozens of surface-lingering poisons. If you got one to lick an injection site fast enough, you’d be healthy within a ke. “This disciple begs shifu’s permission to join the hunt.”
“Granted.”
A week later, Shen Yuan assisted his martial siblings and Master Tang in delivering two pandas – one male and one female – to their freshly built enclosures right by the bridge that connected Zhen Cha to Qian Cao. Once they had managed to breed them, Qian Cao would get their own. They were adorable, fur shimmering like diamonds and onyx in the sunlight. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he watched them explore their very own bamboo forests, freshly imported from Qing Jing. They were almost the size of one and a half regular panda each, so they had a significant amount of space. Xiao Mei circled above the enclosure, a black spot on the clear sky, and if Shen Yuan closed his eyes and focused he could see them from above just as she did. Technically, he could do so without closing his eyes, but that always gave him vertigo.
Soon, everyone else had left or returned to their duties. It was never quiet here, this close to the rainbow bridge, but enough solitude to at least get a sense of peace – necessary, to avoid stressing out the poor bears. Shen Yuan leaned against a wall, and smiled. The sun warmed his face, and his ponytail swayed in the wind. Life was good.
“Ah,” a voice came from behind him. An unsettlingly familiar voice, though it was sharper than it should. Dripping with derision. “Yue-shixiong did tell me there was a face-stealer on the mountain.”
Shen Yuan startled. When he turned around, he found himself staring at his own face, twisted into a sneer.
