Chapter Text
Peak Lord Zhao Qinglin was a recluse.
It was well known amongst the Peak Lords that representation from Kan Zhanbu Peak would be nonexistent. Be that at meetings, during conferences, on night hunts- Kan Zhanbu was the Peak who most kept to itself, a cold wall surrounding the few who were allowed to train there. Correspondence was rare to be answered and replies were succinct to the point of being curt.
There was an aura of mystic whisperings around Zhao Qinglin. That surely the weight of future visions untethered him from this earthly coil as it did many Seers. What a crushing responsibility it must be, to subtly shift fate this way and that. How tragic, how sad- this is all reasonable for why Zhao Qinglin ignored that urgent request for the third time in a row! Or perhaps some tragedy was prevented by his non answer...
That was how simpletons like his fellow Peak Lords rationalized it.
Shen Qingqiu thought that perhaps Zhao Qinglin was just a layabout. Kan Zhanbu was the tiniest of the twelve Peaks. The last that Shen Qingqiu had heard, the Peak only boasted one Elder, two Masters, and five Disciples- none of this counting Zhao Qinglin himself. Unless he spent all day gazing into the sun, he had more than enough time to pick up a brush and do his job.
Usually, Shen Qingqiu was able to forget the man even existed, at least. He showed up so rarely that he was but a smudge of ink on the dirty parchment that was Shen Qingqiu's life, easily glossed over compared to the mess on the rest of it. It was only when he was in line of sight that the familiar bubbling of annoyance and envy churned in his gut.
Which is why Shen Qingqiu was thinking of the man at all. He had shown up to the Disciple Selection.
Zhao Qinglin had only shown up to one of these since becoming Peak Lord. He had quietly stood to himself, hands clasped in front of him, until the gathered candidates had cleared the stairs. The sweaty urchins had huffed and panted, waiting for Yue Qingyuan to announce the last of the trials they would face. But before the Sect Leader even had a chance, Zhao Qinglin had said 'That one.', pointed to a scrawny boy who surely lied about his age, and whisked him away before the child could even get his hands dirty.
Perhaps this would be a repeat.
Zhao Qinglin cut a striking figure as he stood by the edge of the cliff, so that was sure to intimidate the children who were already managing to crawl up the Five- Thousand Heaven Steps. He was a willowy man, a bit taller than Shen Qingqiu but lithe and slender. He wore many layers, his robes a shimmering material that drank up the light and flowed like water when he moved. Dark blues, purples, and pinks blended into a soft ombre that put Shen Qingqiu in the mind of the night sky- the delicate golden embroidery of tiny star-like patterns shining in gentle twinkles.
It was rumored that Zhao Qinglin was a soft and fair beauty, though one would never know. A long drape sat on his head, the thick material covering all but the lower half of his face. It trailed down his back like a strange cloak in a matching color and decoration as his robes. The hems, however, had stylized eyes embroidered all around this piece.
Shen Qingqiu eyed him, fan raised to cover his scowl, and wondered if he would snatch and run like the last time.
Yue Qingyuan seemed to be waiting for this as well, keeping silent for far longer than he should after the last child collapsed in a panting heap atop the stairway. The man's warm brown eyes were trained on Zhao Qinglin, smile uncertain. But their fellow Peak Lord only continued to stare downwards into the crowd of potentials, still and peaceful.
By sheer coincidence, Shen Qingqiu happened to meet Qi Qingqi's eye. Though they hated one another, they shared one brief moment of solidarity as she flicked her eyes in some confusion at their Shidi, as if Shen Qingqiu had any answers. He only gave a brief shake of the head before looking back into the crowd, assessing for any worthy of his Peak. Ning Yingying had been crying for a Shimei or Shidi for long and he didn't intend to disappoint her. The sooner he got the farce over with, the sooner he could return to his Peak and forget this whole day even happened.
There was a rush of wind from behind Shen Qingqiu, followed by a familiar and annoying grunt. Liu Qingge stepped up to glare down at the potentials- as if he would even pick one! Shen Qingqiu didn't even know why he bothered to show up, since the Bai Zhan Brute had sworn off taking personal disciples. His eyes trailed to where Liu Qingge was squinting.
A dirty boy in little more than tattered traveling rags was on his hands and knees, digging with a steadfast but desperate purpose. The hole he had made so far was quite impressive. More so was the ambient pulse of his underdeveloped spiritual veins, which Shen Qingqiu could feel even from here. They thrummed with the sort of potential that had been robbed from himself in his youth. It filled his stomach with bitterness.
"He would be a good Disciple." Liu Qingge throws out, as if Shen Qingqiu didn't already know that. He narrowed his eyes with purpose, knowing how sharp and intimidating they looked when accentuated by his fan.
"Then this master assumes that Shidi will be taking him?" Somehow, Shen Qingqiu managed to say 'Shidi' as if Liu Qingge was little more than filth on the bottom of his silk boots. In response, the War God's stern face pulled into a frown.
"If he wants to join Bai Zhan, he can scale the mountain." The expected reply! Shen Qingqiu couldn't help the scoff or roll of the eyes, which just seemed to further agitate the meat-headed monkey before him. "What? He has a physical Cultivation base. You couldn't take him, Shen Qingqiu."
A flash of white-hot fury overtakes Shen Qingqiu then. Couldn't take him? Did this idiot think that he couldn't take in what disciples he pleased and train them well?
"Zhangmen-shinxiong, this master will be taking that one."
Liu Qingge made a face at the icy tone, shaking his head and tossing Cheng Luan back on the ground so he could fly off once more. Yue Qingyuan, who had been watching this whole altercation with his fellow Peak Lords (sans Zhao Qinglin), offered his typical weak-spined and placating smile. As if Shen Qingqiu was being the unreasonable one and hadn't just been insulted.
"Shen-shidi, this master is not sure that is wise..."
"I will be taking him."
Yue Qingyuan's smile twitched at the corner, a pleading in his guilty brown eyes. As expected, he folded like a stack of cards in a windstorm, opening his mouth to send a runner-
"No."
Zhao Qinglin's warm and airy voice gave them all pause.
"Shidi?" Yue Qingyuan's brows pinched. The Kan Zhanbu Peak Lord had turned his head towards them, his face still shadowed. His plush lips were pursed, a soft frown tugging them downwards.
"That boy-" Zhao Qinglin nodded his head to the side, still as a statue otherwise, the drape pulling just long enough to reveal a few strands of the chestnut colored hair it was hiding. His voice was clear and with purpose, even as soft spoken as he was. "-will go with Mu Qingfang."
Mu Qingfang, who had been busy trying very hard to listen to the altercation without making it obvious, flinched when his name was suddenly brought into the equation. The doctor blinked, lips parted, and gave one undignified splutter before he quickly caught himself and cleared his throat.
"Ah, Zhao-shidi must be mistaken. Liu-shinxiong is correct that the child has a Physical base. Qian Cao Cultivators practice mainly Spiritual techniques."
"As does Qing Jing."
Shen Qingqiu's fan snapped closed in his hand, a sharp noise that drew attention back to him. Fury bubbled in his blood, hot and stifling under his many layers. Who did Zhao Qinglin think he was to decide this?! The only thing that kept him from spitting his true rage was the rub of the silk ribbon wrapped around his wrist, hidden under his robes.
"This master has already staked his claim on the child. He will be placed on Qing Jing."
"Shen-shinxiong will squander the boy's potential, much like the rest of us would. He can only bloom to his full ability under Mu-shinxiong's careful hands." Zhao Qinglin's tone was cordial but distant, displeasure thick on his tongue for being questioned. Shen Qingqiu hated that the most about the man. How superior he always sounded, as if he knew so much more than the rest of them. It made Shen Qingqiu feel like a child being condescended by an adult, which just left him wanting to lash out with spilled blood and vitriol.
"Shen-shidi," Yue Qingyuan's voice was apologetic, which just made Shen Qingqiu tighten his grip on his fan. The wooden tines creaked but did not give. Not yet. "Zhao-shidi is the best Seer in the Jianghu. It would be wise to take his advice. Mu-shidi?"
And so the careful grains of control slipped from Shen Qingqiu's fingers as fast as he had gathered them.
"Well... this Mu would not be opposed to taking him on if what Zhao-shidi says is true..."
"Then it is decided." Yue Qingyuan called for one of the runners. Shen Qingqiu could only watch, a ship unmoored during a storm, as an An Ding Disciple ran over to the boy and collected him. The pitiful thing looked like he was about to cry before he was rushed away to join the half dozen picks that Mu Qingfang had already taken.
Shen Qingqiu scanned the disciples once more, feeling scorched out and empty. His heart was iced over despite the flames trying to ignite it.
"That girl." Shen Qingqiu spoke, eyes barely gazing at her, his promise to Ning Yingying still ringing in his mind.
He was gone left before she had even been collected from her hole, suddenly too tired to deal with this.
Three days later, after Disciple Li had presented her tea to him and the girl was snug and safe in the dorms, Shen Qingqiu learned that Zhao Qinglin hadn't even picked any Disciples.