Disciples and Masters

 The evening before the banquet, she was in her chambers with A-Rong and A-Tian. They were embroidering, watching Yang Qinghui compose a short lushi poem about the orchids by her window, when Lu Ying burst through the doorway.

"Shizun!" she shouted, waving a rolled-up piece of paper. "There's a message from Hao-shixiong!"

Leaning over the desk, Yang Qinghui grabbed the letter and tore off the seal. It had been four weeks with little news from Zhuang Hao – her concern had grown every day. The letter was brief, like the other three:

Shizun,

I apologize for the delay in completing my mission. There were unforeseen

circumstances. I will unfortunately not be back in time for the banquet,

but I hope it is successful.

Your disciple,

Zhuang Hao

With an agitated noise, Yang Qinghui threw the letter down on her desk and ran a hand through her hair.

"That's it?" she spat. "'Unforeseen circumstances'?"

In his last report, he'd assured her he'd be back in time for the banquet.

"Shizun…" Lu Ying stared at her, wide-eyed.

Yang Qinghui snatched up the letter again. "Is he alright? Is he hurt? Damn it, Zhuang Hao, tell me something!" She stood up abruptly from her desk. "I'm going down to Jinlan City."

"Master, you can't!" A-Tian cried, scrambling to her feet.

"My disciple could be in danger." Yang Qinghui rounded the desk. "I'm going."

"Jinlan City is too far," A-Rong argued, also standing. "You wouldn't make it back in time for the banquet."

"Fuck the banquet!" Yang Qinghui snapped.

A-Tian slammed her hands over Lu Ying's ears, jaw dropping in astonishment. A-Rong took a deep breath and stood in front of Yang Qinghui, blocking her path.

"Master, you cannot leave," she said firmly. "You've worked too hard on this banquet to throw it away. Young Master Zhuang would never forgive you for backing out of the contest and further ruining our Peak's reputation."

Yang Qinghui stared. Slowly, the tension bled out of her. A-Rong was right: she couldn't leave. She pinched the bridge of her nose with an irritated sigh.

"Fine. But in the morning, send four disciples to Jinlan City as backup."

A-Tian slumped in relief, and A-Rong bowed. "Yes, Master."

Yang Qinghui dropped back to her seat and buried her face in her hands. "Please leave me for the night."

With a rustling of fabric, the attendants left. A few moments later, a small voice whispered,

"Shizun?"

Yang Qinghui lifted her head. Lu Ying stood near the doorway, wringing her hands.

Ah, shit. "Yes, Ying'er?"

"Is… Is Hao-shixiong going to be alright?" Her little shoulders trembled, and she stared at the ground.

"Oh, Ying'er… Come here," Yang Qinghui said, beckoning her disciple closer.

Lu Ying crossed the floor to kneel beside Yang Qinghui, fidgeting with the hem of her robe.

"I'm sorry I scared you," Yang Qinghui said gently. "That was horrible of me."

Lu Ying shook her head. "It's okay," she mumbled.

"No, Ying'er, it isn't." Yang Qinghui sighed heavily. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for all the times I've ignored you, or – or been mean to you. You deserve so much better. I promise, I'll be a better master from now on."

Lu Ying lifted her head, meeting her eyes.

"Will you give me that chance?" Yang Qinghui asked.

Lu Ying nodded, and Yang Qinghui smiled in relief.

"Thank you. Now, look – Zhuang Hao knows what he's doing," Yang Qinghui assured her. "If he couldn't handle this mission, he wouldn't have taken it."

"But you said there were… unforeseen…" Lu Ying trailed off, lowering her head.

Yang Qinghui hesitated. What could she say? 

"Ying'er… Nothing in life is certain. But Zhuang Hao loves you. He loves you so much, and he wants to be here to protect you. So he's going to do everything he can to make it back home."

Tears dripped onto Lu Ying's hands.

"That has to be enough for those of us left waiting." Tentatively, Yang Qinghui set her hand on Lu Ying's shoulder. "Do you understand?"

With a choked sob, Lu Ying threw her arms around Yang Qinghui's middle, burying her face into her master's robes.

Slowly, Yang Qinghui wrapped her arms around her tiny disciple, and gently stroked her hair as she cried. She hummed a quiet song Ms. Yan had taught her, and Lu Ying's breathing gradually evened out.

The candles on Yang Qinghui's desk had nearly burned down to their sconces when she realized Lu Ying had fallen asleep. Carefully, she adjusted her arms to slide one under her disciple's neck and the other under her knees.

Zui Xian Peak was as deeply asleep as Lu Ying, nearly every lantern extinguished, and not a single soul in the hallways.

Yang Qinghui walked slowly to the disciples' quarters, and found Lu Ying's private room. It was tiny, but well-furnished, with a round window on the far wall. Trying not to wake her, Yang Qinghui settled Lu Ying on top of the covers and tugged the thin blanket up to her chin. Moonbeams drifted through the window, giving Yang Qinghui enough light to take out Lu Ying's hair pins and set them on the night table.

The girl only stirred once, rolling over onto her side, but kept snoring.

"She's so young," Yang Qinghui murmured to herself. "Aren't most disciples at least ten?"

The System screen appeared beside her.

"Character profile: Lu Ying. Personal disciple of Yang Qinghui. Age – 7. Parents – unknown (orphaned). Found and taken in by Yang Qinghui one year ago. Sect Leader Yue Qingyuan granted an exception to Yang Qinghui to take Lu Ying as a disciple despite her young age."

"Ah, poor Ying'er," Yang Qinghui sighed. She brushed a loose hair out of her disciple's face, affection welling up inside her chest.

She'd never wanted children, back in her original world. It wasn't that she didn't like them – she just thought she wouldn't make a very good mother.

But now, faced with Lu Ying and Zhuang Hao… she wanted to try.

---

The next afternoon, A-Rong and A-Tian appeared at Yang Qinghui's door with matching grins. She looked up from her desk, littered with scribbled notes on scrap paper.

"Yes, what is it?" she asked, rubbing at the ink smudged into her fingers and knuckles.

"Good afternoon, Master!" A-Tian beamed. "It's time to get ready for the banquet!"

An hour later, she stood inspecting her appearance in front of her full-length mirror. A-Tian and A-Rong hovered behind her, grinning proudly.

"What do you think, Master?" A-Tian asked.

"Hmm…" Yang Qinghui waved her hand, watching the giant sleeve of her outer robe ripple with the movement.

The outer robe was open and loose, wonderfully comfortable. The hem brushed the floor and the sleeves weren't much shorter. A silver bird design covered the brocade fabric of the sleeves and shoulders, shimmering. It would look even better in the lanternlight. Sticking with Peak colours, the inner robe was light grey, held closed with a dark blue and silver sash.

As for makeup, A-Tian had painted a red, five-petaled huadian on Yang Qinghui's forehead, just above the space between her eyebrows, and added just a hint of eyeshadow. Her hair was half-up, half-down, pinned with blue, grey, and white silk flowers.

She truly looked the part of an impressive Peak Lord.

"I don't know how you two do it," she laughed, twirling around. "This is amazing!"

"All that's left is jewellery!" A-Tian said in a sing-song voice, presenting her with a lacquered box and opening the lid.

"Whoa…" Yang Qinghui stared in awe at the rows of gold, silver, and jade. "I didn't know I had so much."

"There's another box on top of the wardrobe," A-Tian said. "Shall I fetch it?"

"Yes, please."

Passing the box to A-Rong, A-Tian hurried over to the wardrobe. Yang Qinghui inspected the jewellery closely, and picked out a pair of simple jade-and-silver drop earrings. The cold jade brushed against her jaw.

"Here you are, Master." A-Tian reappeared with the box.

"Ah, thank you."

This box was simpler, just plain black cloth, but flatter and larger, even longer than her forearm. Yang Qinghui blew off a layer of dust and pried open the lid. A-Tian and A-Rong peered curiously over her shoulders.

Inside sat a long piece of jewellery attached to a cord. White jade beads ran down the cord, to a circular green jade pendant, carved in a ring. Below the pendant, the cord split into three, and more white and green jade beads trailed down each third, ending in a long, blue tassel on each.

"Ooh, a jin bu!" A-Tian exclaimed. "It's beautiful!"

"Huh…" Yang Qinghui picked the jin bu up by the cord, lifting it out of the box. Something felt… familiar.

The jade beads clattered against each other, making a clear, light sound, and a memory overtook Yang Qinghui.

It wasn't jarring or harsh, like before. No, it was a gentle memory – just a momentary image, a brief feeling:

Jade beads clattered in a sweet sound, against warm-grey robes, joined by raspy laughter. Sunlight shone down and a tranquility seeped into her. She was safe.

The memory faded just as gently.

"Master, are you alright?" A-Rong's face was pinched in concern. "Your mind seemed to wander."

"Yeah, I-I'm alright…"

The System screen appeared.

"Key item obtained: Former Zui Xian Peak Lord's Jin Bu."

Key item, huh?

"Could… could I have a few minutes alone, actually?" Yang Qinghui asked.

"Of course, Master. Please summon us when you're ready." The maids bowed and left the room, shooting worried glances over their shoulders.

"So this belonged to the former Zui Xian Peak Lord?" Yang Qinghui asked once they were gone. "Hmm…"

There'd been little mention of the previous generation of Peak Lords in Proud Immortal Demon Way – maybe a throwaway sentence, at most. She was pretty sure they were still alive, just retired.

But the warmth of the memory… she hadn't felt that peace since Ms. Yan had died.

Yang Qinghui studied the jin bu in the sunlight. It truly was beautiful. She only hesitated a moment before looping the cord through her belt.

---

Yang Qinghui had spared no expense in decoration. The main courtyard of Zui Xian Peak glowed with lanternlight from dozens of paper lanterns in every colour, strung along cords on the roofs. Wooden tables had been arranged on mats along the edge of the courtyard, forming a rectangle, with space behind the tables to walk. At the far end of the courtyard, a raised dais held another wooden table, for Yang Qinghui, Lu Ying, and the guest of honour.

In the open center of the courtyard, a trio of ribbon dancers prepared for their performance while a group of musicians tuned their instruments.

The sun was just setting as Yang Qinghui walked, wide-eyed, into the courtyard. Madam Meng hurried up to greet her. She was always dressed well and elegantly, but tonight her robes were of better quality than her usual ones, and a more ornate hairpin – of gold and jade – held up her hair.

"Everything is prepared, Peak Lord Yang. We've spotted guests approaching along the road."

"Excellent. Let them in when they arrive."

"Yes, Peak Lord Yang."

As Madam Meng hurried off, Yang Qinghui her hands behind her back, pleased, and surveyed the courtyard.

Lu Ying appeared from one of the buildings, and ran up to Yang Qinghui.

"Shizun! Shizun! Do you like my hanfu?" She twirled around, showing off the airy fabric of her light grey skirt and sleeves. A dark blue banbi jacket with a cross-collar was tucked into the waistband of her skirt, and her hair was done in two buns secured with blue ribbons.

"Wow, you look so nice, Ying'er!" Yang Qinghui exclaimed warmly.

Lu Ying giggled. "Thank you! You look pretty, too, shizun!" She grabbed Yang Qinghui's hand and bounced on her feet. "Are the guests here yet? Are they here?" 

Yang Qinghui laughed. "The first guests are on their way."

"I'm so excited! Are you excited, shizun?"

"I sure am." Everything was going to plan. She hadn't forgotten the real goal of this banquet, to claw back some respect from the other Peaks, but… She grinned widely. "I love a good a party."