The Protagonist
The first impression Yang Qinghui had of Qing Jing Peak was, Holy bamboo.
Green stalks covered – absolutely covered – the Peak, leaving barely any room for the low wooden buildings. After drifting overhead for a couple minutes, she finally spotted a clearing, and lowered herself down to the grass.
She was immediately greeted by a dozen Qing Jing disciples, who surrounded her, swords drawn.
"Whoa!" She dismissed Sui Gu, holding up her hands. "Calm down, all of you – I'm not attacking."
"Who are you?" one demanded, stepping forward.
"Have I been a recluse for so long that none of you recognize me?" Yang Qinghui set a hand on her hip. "Where's your head disciple?"
The disciple scowled. "You – "
"Here! My apologies!" A burly disciple, no older than fifteen, pushed his way through the crowd, reaching Yang Qinghui. He bowed nearly in half, hands in a martial salute. "Welcome to Qing Jing Peak, Yang-shigu!"
Ming Fan
Head disciple of Qing Jing Peak
Ah, yes, Yang Qinghui remembered. The bully.
At Ming Fan's vehement gesturing, the other disciples bowed.
"Welcome, Yang-shigu!" they echoed.
"That's better, isn't it?" Yang Qinghui flashed a toothy smile, then got to business. "I'm here because I met your master, Shen Qingqiu, in the Ling Xi Caves. He won't be done meditating in time for Zui Xian Peak's banquet, but he's allowed me to choose two Qing Jing disciples to attend and accompany the head disciple."
The disciples murmured between themselves, some excited, others wary.
Yang Qinghui took the invitation from her inside pocket and handed it to Ming Fan. Bowing, he took the paper and read it quickly.
"Do you accept the invitation?" Yang Qinghui asked.
"I'd be honoured to represent my Peak!" Ming Fan declared, chest puffing out with pride.
Yang Qinghui scanned the crowd, and her eyes landed on a young girl, eagerly bouncing on her toes with barely-contained excitement.
Ning Yingying
Disciple of Qing Jing Peak
"You'll be our second guest," Yang Qinghui decided, pointing at her.
"Ah! Thank you, shigu!" Ning Yingying bowed gleefully.
"Who else, who else…?" Where is our protagonist, hmm?
She turned in a slow circle, carefully examining each disciple. A glow caught her eye, in the back row of the crowd. Frowning, she stepped closer. The disciples scrambled out of her way, and the glow hit Yang Qinghui's eyes full-force.
Ow, fuck!
A golden line of text hovered over a disciple's head. Yang Qinghui had to squint to read the name, but it was worth it.
Luo Binghe
Disciple of Qing Jing Peak
Yang Qinghui grinned. There he is.
Luo Binghe realized Yang Qinghui's attention was on him, and quickly bowed. "Yang-shigu!"
The glow faded after a moment, and she was able to properly see him. His black hair was in a high ponytail and he wore green robes like most of the other disciples, but he stood out like a sore thumb. For one thing, his robes were dirtied and torn, like he'd just been in a fight. For another, he was scrawny, clearly underfed, and a bruise darkened his cheek. Yang Qinghui was certain other bruises and scars were hidden under his robes.
If the real Shen Qingqiu were still here… she thought murderously.
Luo Binghe lifted his head, meeting Yang Qinghui's gaze.
Dark eyes met hers. A coldly amused smile tugged at his lips, revealing sharp, white teeth.
"You will fail."
Oh, not again! It had been weeks since her last flashback. Why now?
Luckily, this memory was short, and she found herself back in the clearing in seconds. The disciples stared at her, but no one seemed to have noticed her momentary lapse.
Who was that, anyway? The memory had been triggered after she'd seen Luo Binghe's face. But the face in her memory, though blurry, had clearly been an adult. A horrible possibility struck her. Could it be… Tianlang Jun?
No. Yang Qinghui snapped herself back to the present. There would be time for theorizing later.
She cleared her throat. "What's your name?"
Luo Binghe seemed astonished she was speaking to him. "L-Luo Binghe, shigu."
"Would you like to attend the banquet?" she asked.
The poor protagonist just about fell over. "Me?"
"Him, shigu?" Ming Fan asked incredulously. "He's just a lousy – "
Yang Qinghui glared sharply over her shoulder. "Are you arguing with me, boy?"
Ming Fan paled and shut his mouth.
"Well, shizhi?" she asked Luo Binghe, trying for a gentle tone. "Do you accept the invitation?"
He opened and closed his mouth several times, before squaring his shoulders and saluting her. "Yes, shigu!"
"Luo Binghe affection level increased! +2 points. Current affection level: 7 points."
Oh, great! I'll be at a hundred points in no time.
"The details are on the invitation," she said, turning back to Ming Fan. "I will see all three of you there."
She glanced over her shoulder at Luo Binghe, who stared at her with wide eyes, then summoned her sword and flew back to her Peak.
She would properly examine Luo Binghe's mental state at the banquet – for now, it was best to not draw too much attention to him. Already, she worried she may have made him the target of the other disciples' jealousy.
A System screen appeared beside her as she surfed through the clouds.
"You have met protagonist Luo Binghe. 'Befriend Luo Binghe' progress: 5% complete. Please continue the good work."
---
Four weeks passed in a blur.
Yang Qinghui helped out where she could: she helped her disciples set up the wards around the Peak, taste-tested dishes, chose performers, checked RSVPS – not a single apology! – and even built a couple of tables. At first, everyone seemed surprised by her helpfulness, but as the weeks went on, their wariness disappeared.
She spent the rest of her time polishing up her poetry skills. When she'd first gone to university, she'd studied psychology. Not out of any genuine interest, but because her parents insisted she be some kind of doctor. After they'd kicked her out for being trans and Ms. Yan had taken her in, she'd followed her passion and switched majors to Chinese Literature.
She'd graduated nearly top of her class – she was confident she'd crush Liu Qingge in their contest.