Chapter Text
Oh, how much I’d like to enter,
To return and step on pavement of the town.
Just for one day return to home,
To three houses of street where all’s hand down.
Where guests just come not asking,
No envy, no anger — home, sweet home.
Where birth is celebrated
And last journey is lamented by all crowd.
Anzhelika Varum, “Town” (song)
For once, Shen Qingqiu had a day off — from everything. Ma Shuqing had taken рis personal disciples on a foray early in the morning to collect and sketch Qiancao medicinal herbs, smiling knowingly and promising to return in the evening. The rest of the disciples were in good hands too, and he had specifically dealt with the current documents yesterday. So Quiet Peak was now living up to its name, especially the surroundings of his cozy bamboo house.
On the other peaks, everyone also knew that on this particular day, it was better not to disturb Lord of Qingjing Peak without a good reason, so business correspondence, joint projects, and everything else were postponed until tomorrow.
Family? Well, their traditional get-together was planned for the evening, and the people closest and dearest to his heart — humans, demons, and all other persons and entities — had now scattered in all directions. Some (yes, his older brothers were real workaholics) were still pulling up their last slack so that at least at the family gathering they wouldn't have to think about work. Others were still looking for gifts for the main heroes of the occasion — and Qingqiu was slightly nibbled by a worm of impatience and interest, because for the sake of gifts for the anniversary of their timeline’s birth, everyone was trying to find, order or create something completely outlandish. Some (we won't point fingers, but it was a white lotus with a scarlet mark on its high forehead) occupied Ruan-shidi's personal kitchen, personally performing miracles and skillfully managing his volunteer assistants, like a commander moves his troops. And the trophies in the form of ready dishes for the evening feast were carefully stored in a specially designated qiankun box, so that later they would be meticulously placed on the tables in one of Qiongding's pavilions.
But Shen Qingqiu preferred to spend the day before the celebration in the silence and solitude of his own home, reflecting on and summing up what had been done and experienced over the year… And sometimes even going back in his thoughts further into the past — right up to that very day on the dirty streets of a provincial town, from which a couple of cheeky fellows, a young demon and a low-ranking disciple of Anding, with admirable impudence stole a couple of grimy slave boys.
And from such a tramp, stubborn, illiterate and shying of strangers, an immortal master, famous far beyond the jianghu, managed to hatch and grow up. Hah. How much luck and effort it took, how much patience and warmth of their hearts was invested — from the mentors, themselves, their relatives, friends and comrades gathered around them… And now this baton has been taken up by their own disciples and — scary to say — children, diligently frowning in a concentrated effort to continue what they started. To develop what they taught.
Qingqiu shook his head and smiled nostalgically, approaching the filing cabinet that occupied an entire wall in his workroom opposite the bookcase. Few people knew that in addition to the boring but necessary scrolls, books and folders laid out on the shelves, this cabinet stored many other interesting trinkets, hidden in the seals of spatial storages, applied with an inconspicuous transparent varnish and concealed behind the carved wooden lace.
Material evidence of what his memory held. Confirmation of what happened before his eyes — and what was told to him. Souvenirs telling a variety of stories — funny, tragic, mundane… Stories about their victories and defeats? Well, the most pompous ones have already been dragged off, so to speak, to museums. Or even hung on the wall at home, as he himself hung in the living room a copy of The Ballad of the Luminary Dragon, maid by Bai-ge's hand. But the little things that made his heart ache a little — everything that he had once been unable to bring himself to throw away — were mostly folded here, seemingly in plain sight, but in fact well hidden from prying eyes.
Long fingers ran along the carved edges of the shelves, pressing and smoothing here and there. They hesitated, and a small stack of scribbled sheets of paper, rolled up and tied with a black string, fell into his palms.
Heh. One of the first personal study projects of Gao Ning, once a shijie and neighbor in the disciple housing of his older brother, and now the right hand of the Sect Leader for a long time. Back then, a year after their recognition as succeeding disciples, Gao-shimei took it upon herself to find out and analyze in detail the established ideas about them of other inner disciples of Cangqiong, and not only at their own peaks. Not having an absolute memory, shimei recorded the results of her conversations on sheets like these — and sometimes aided them with other catch. It was interesting that if not with all, then with many she even spoke openly, referring to the received assignment.
But this particular bundle Qi-ge begged to take from a pile of drafts by Gao Ning, since among other things there was a sketch made by Qingqiu's own hand. And then, seeing these notes on his brother's desk, looked over for ten times at least, Yuan took them for safekeeping. Since Qi-ge so wanted to keep a reminder of his first multi-move plan to put one of their martial brothers in good and reliable hands. The first — but far from the last, since now out of the twelve Peak Lords of Cangqiong, only the ascetic Gao Qinggao remained hopelessly single and did not even really have admirers…
But back then — back then Bai-ge met Zi-shidi for the first time and later spoke of him with respect and approval. And soon after that on the paths of Qiancao after visiting Qingfang, Qi-ge ran into him too… So Shen-then-still-just-Yuan, upon meeting the vast but good-natured, like a panda, Zi Dan, thought about it and decided. He decided that why not give him an additional chance to win the heart of Ruan Qingruan, then still the heir of Zuixian. His idea did not oblige anyone to anything, but it allowed the disciple of the peak of beast-breeders to show those qualities that a thorough cook could appreciate.
Shen Qingqiu untied the knot on the string and spread the sheets of paper across the table, smoothing them out with one of the many specialized spiritual techniques of his peak. A couple of sheets of paper with Gao Ning's questions and Zi Dan's answers, clearly filled in by her steady hand. His own clumsy, childish ink drawing, like a comic sheet. A few extracts from bestiaries on some drawing paper that had come to hand, originally written in the elegant handwriting of shidi Shi Kuan, but with his own hasty additions. Hah, and on this crumpled stub, Zi-shidi had written the main points of the plan in fast-hand encrypted in the Lingyou cipher, and then crossed them out as he completed them…
Of course, Qingqiu remembered every word — and for the ones written in his presence, even every stroke of the calligraphy brush or rustle of the charcoal pencil. But this did not stop him from picking it up from the table and reading with a smile, first of all, the strict columns of signs drawn by Qiongding’s disciple, who was still quite inexperienced and therefore especially careful about the teacher’s assignment.
【 Questionnaire
Interviewer: Gao Ning, senior disciple, Qiongding
Interviewee: Zi Dan, senior disciple, Lingyou
Interview method: Open, recorded interview (thank Heavens, at least this time I didn’t have to pry under the guise of gossip!)
1. Does shidi know Yue-shixiong personally?
…】