Chapter 3: 3 Stalks: Wealth, Health & Happiness, Lu Soh Fu. The three blessings.
...The lesson was disappointing.
When Shen Qingqiu returned to the paved clearing with Luo Binghe and Ming Fan, the class was in chaos.
The two boys gaped at the scene, at the windswept peers nursing cuts and bruises from accidental collisions and blind, wild swings during the windstorm.
Vicious arguments cut through the air and every eye reddened and streaming from grit, fighting having apparently broken out among students over lack of apologies for inflicting injury.
Ning Yingying was attempting to mediate... with minimal success though her being stood between two of the more belligerent students was most likely keeping them from physically brawling.
The pair looked up at Shen Qingqiu's deep sigh, following his attention to the bulk of the juniors clustered at the side-lines, observing. Some were murmuring to each other and anxiously glancing around, presumably for their missing Shizun or shixiong, Ming Fan, neither of whom would have tolerated this.
All while making no move to diffuse the situation themselves, even to back up their shimei.
Some were sniffling and dabbing at tears with embroidered handkerchiefs.
Shen Qingqiu was glad he had only entered his senior disciples into the last Immortal Alliance Conference, despite the whispers of ridicule on the winds from other Peaks. With the apparent quality of his juniors, they would have died on the road, slaughtered for their items before they even arrived at the Conference.
Not only was it pathetic, but it was also dangerous.
They were spiritual cultivators; physical combat was essential to their continued safety throughout life. To any lowlife practitioner they were prime targets to 'pluck the yin to nurture the yang'. Without physical power, a spiritual cultivator could easily be reduced to a Cauldron, exploited for their qi and very life force through Dual Cultivation.
(…In this respect, it was fortunate that Shen Qingqiu was picked up by Wu Yanzi and not another of the scummy rogue cultivators lurking to sell Qiu Jianluo wares. As a demonic cultivator, through heinous acts, seal arrays and rituals, he had reversed the direction of qi flow in his physical and astral body to draw volatile Earth energy from his own root chakra into his meridians, granting intermittent access to raw power otherwise experienced only through Ascension. Wu Yanzi couldn't grow his power through Dual Cultivation, nor did he want to.)
He clicked his tongue derisively and called, "Attention."
Once the children took notice, they hurried over and lined up, silent. The handful causing a ruckus were pale. Rightly so.
Shen Qingqiu thought for a moment on how to address this, but enough time had been wasted retrieving Lou Binghe so he would let them marinade in dread for now.
He set them to demonstrate a basic Qing Jing martial form as a warmup, setting Ming Fan and Luo Binghe off to practice separately with a dismissive fan flick ...and immediately identified some issues.
It wasn't that they didn't know the forms; Hallmaster Li was competent in his instruction. It was that, moving through the motions, they weren't thinking about what they were doing, they weren't visualizing blows blocked or strikes redirected.
Additionally, some wobbled slightly in keeping balance. As if balance wasn't one of the three fundamental principles of the style.
Grace. Evasion. Balance.
Shen Qingqiu said nothing and just stared over his fan.
Next, they took up their training swords in the Swaying Spring Bamboo sequence, primarily to parry and redirect blows from stronger opponents but additionally carrying an offensive element of strong, fast strikes like a rebounding bamboo switch.
While they at least knew the basic Qing Jing sword forms (barring, of course, the little beast who was warily taking instruction from a subdued Ming Fan), they lacked the harmony of strength and elegance.
Those with grace such as Ning Yingying and Lan Yue, lacked the power to their blows to end a fight, like Zhang Hao, who were in turn so graceless they put even the worst of Zui Xian drunkards to shame.
All required stamina training.
Maintaining his decidedly blank face, he then set them to pairs for sparring.
This, at least, gave him some hope for their survival.
By deliberately pairing quarrelling disciples together, fights gained a nasty edge, standard forms slipping into quicker, more merciless strikes at instinctively identified vulnerable points, stepping in and out of reach lightning quick in the barest bones of a savage dance.
It was the edge of something brutal, something dirty, the edge that kept Shen Jiu alive on the streets and apparently how the junior scholars of Qing Jing held their own against the martial-focused brutes of Bai Zhan.
Better. Still not good enough.
This continued for half shichen, before Shen Qingqiu bade them, very calmly, spar with the master himself, one-on-one, using any style, technique, or tactic to land one blow or draw even a single drop of blood from him for victory.
(Disappointingly, only a small number truly tried, Ning Yingying out of respect, Lan Yue during to instruction and the rest out of the sheer desire to hit him. The rest were too nervous to properly spar.)
...Needless to say, it was not the Peak Lord who bled. At all. Even when faced with the entire class against him once they had each individually lost, Shen Qingqiu moved through them like a breeze winding through trees, a fan in one hand and the glinting white of Xiu Ya in the other, gracefully sweeping this way and that, leaving fallen bodies like shed leaves in his wake.
And not a single thread of his billowing robe was torn, nor a scratch on his skin carved.
Shen Qingqiu glared over the dusty heap on disciples, bared teeth delicately hidden by his fan. He spoke in a low voice dripping with disdain, "Unsatisfactory. These disciples humiliate Qing Jing Peak with their blatant disregard for the skills as old as the mountain and rampant incompetence in combat. I am disappointed."
The children had pulled themselves to their knees by this point. Heads bowed. Shoulders curled. Several flinched as if struck. Several fists clenched white.
"Bathe and eat, then return here each with their best fans and any weapon they can be wield with any measure of skill. This master will grant a shichen for respite, surely long enough for these shameful disciples to recover and continue this evaluation. The tardy will suffer consequences. Scram."
Hurriedly, the children pulled themselves up and left, leaving Shen Qingqiu alone to think.
How were they going to survive?
As the entire sum of Qing Jing junior disciples staggered into the food hall, filthy with sweat and dirt, they certainly drew some looks.
A senior disciple in lilac and white Jing Shen robes gasped in shock, "What happened to you all? I've never seen Qing Jing disciple so dishevelled!"
Ning Yingying smiled brightly, "Shifu is assessing the martial ability of these disciples."
One Qing Jing senior frowned. "Shizun never teaches juniors if he doesn't have to and then it's just the Four Arts, making qiakun items and qi techniques for self-defence for the girls, never martial combat."
The girl beside him hummed. "Except before the Immortal Alliance Conference. He beats anyone who applies into the ground before approving entry." She winced in remembrance before returning attention to the juniors, "As that's only just passed, you must have a mission. Directly ordered by the Sect Head if Shizun doesn't think you're ready. Ming-shidi, any news?"
Ming Fan startled, "...no." he said quietly. Interest lost, the seniors returned to their meal and the juniors went to retrieve theirs.
Zhang Hao leaned in slightly, "Is shixiong alright?"
He answered with the same uncharacteristicly muted tone, "No. I have...things to reflect on, regarding my duties, behaviour and responsibilities," his eyes swept over the small crowd of juniors, now sitting down at the short tables, they settled on Luo Binghe, stood at the side looking over to Ning Yingying, who was chatting to her friends among the female junior disciples.
Ming Fan turned to Zhang Hao, "Reserve places for this shining and his shidi to eat with one extra, would you?"
Upon Zhang Hao's confused nod, he strode over to Luo Binghe, some of the familiar arrogance bracing his spine, "Luo Binghe! Come eat with us."
He waited for an answer, jaw clenched and jutting. He watched the thoughts and emotion flicker in dark depths of his shidi's eyes and settle into something at once angry and resigned. "...As Ming-shixiong commands."
Ming Fan loosed a frustrated breath, hands flexing on the tray, "This Ming Fan offered so Luo Binghe, wouldn't sit alone." He opened his mouth to say more, about how he'd seen how far behind he had made Luo Binghe (who was already disadvantaged by his age, the youngest of them, two years Ming Fan's junior), how much weaker than the rest of them. How much Ming Fan's actions had damaged him and how fast that would make him die in a serious fight?
His throat worked but no sound emerged, so he snapped his mouth shut a nodded decisively.
Luo Binghe paused but slowly nodded back, so Ming Fan led them over to Zhang Hao and sat. Luo Binghe greeted the tall boy warily, received a brusque nod in return and that was that.
Later, Ming Fan would shove a pair of fans into Luo Binghe's hands, his second-best set in his own as they returned to lesson and Luo Binghe would think that maybe whatever had happened to make the cruel, pompous Head Disciple cry had brought a change in him. That maybe, just maybe, things might finally get better.
But for now, there are three sweaty, bruised and dusty boys eating a bland, light meal in stilted silence.
Three shichen and a disastrous fan lesson later found Shen Qingqiu in his Bamboo house, massaging his aching wrists and fingers. Old breaks healed wrongly, some among many, but fortunately ones that didn't act up much.
Shen Qingqiu was waiting for Ming Fan to arrive with paperwork from the drop box just off from the Rainbow Bridge, where any missives, forms, letters or petition slips for Qing Jing were deposited by the other eleven Peaks.
Presently he arrived, with Luo Binghe his wary shadow.
"Small beast. Remain kneeling outside until Ming Fan collects you."
He watched Ming Fan's troubled eyes follow the stiff back of the sprout out before returning to Shen Qingqiu and taking on a different kind of turmoil.
"This Ming Fan brings today's paperwork for Qing Jing and yesterday's that by requiring Shifu's attention this one could not complete. Shall this disciple make tea?"
Shen Qingqiu dragged his gaze from the baskets stacked with work and met Ming Fan's eyes deliberately. A conversation was to be had on certain changes to me made in light of the breach of trust Shen Qingqiu placed in him.
Some of this must have showed in his eyes because Ming Fan's small smile wavered and faded, faint dread creeping into his expression.
There was a tap at the door.
Ming Fan went to answer it and returned with Mu Qingfang, whose typically gentle smile was tight.
"Shen-shixiong, this healer hopes you are well?"
His eyes were cool.
Warm hazel eyes frozen with dislike, disgust, after the martial brother died (was killed. He killed him). Bright amber flecks hard and sharp, as medicines arrived late or not at all, always the last to be treated, there were never enough painkillers, not for Qing Jing disciples.
Always for Bai Zhan though, because physical cultivators needed to train. What does it matter if the stock up scholars who just sit around all day are in a bit of pain? Maybe it would teach them not to start fights.
Shen Qingqiu casually flicked open his fan.
"...This Master had not anticipated Mu-shidi's presence. For what has the Qian Cao Lord visited my Qing Jing?"
Narrow, fox-like hazel eyes sharpened slightly at the non-answer.
"This healer sent a missive for an appointment with shixiong to check on his meridians following his most recent Qi Deviation, due to the severity paired with the heat of fever."
Yes, Shen Qingqiu thought. Because why bother to check when I awoke? Why bother checking now?
He gracefully gestured to the baskets with his fan. "As Mu-shidi can see, this Master has much requiring his attention."
"This one will keep his visit short."
"...Fine. Ming Fan-"
"This disciple will prepare tea!"
"No."
Both Ming Fan and Mu Qingfang startled. There was silence for a moment, before the Medical Lord's surprise was lost to offence.
Mu Qingfang was a very even-tempered man, he had certainly put up with a lot from Shen Qingqiu's rampant prejudice against those from outside the rich nobility, but such a blatant slight as to be overtly denied basic hospitality-!
His jaw clenched; his smile thinned to a blade.
"This Peak Lord would like tea, thanking Ming-shizhi."
The boy darted a look at Shen Qingqiu. "...Y-yes Mu-shishu."
He hurried off. The Immortal cultivators sat in stilted silence, though Shen Qingqiu appeared to be scantily staring at his irresponsibly neglected paperwork. It was surely a week's worth that sat on the end of the low table.
Tea was prepared, but Shen Qingqiu made to motion to pour for his guest, shirking the most basic duty of a host.
Then.
Then.
Once Ming Fan poured two cups, Shen Qingqiu picked his up, looked deeply into it and placed it down without drinking.
His striking green eyes lifted to his disciple and gave him a look that said something unknown to Mu Qingfang, but whatever it was, Ming Fan understood and was devastated.
He was dismissed with a negligent flick of the fan.
Mu Qingfang took a sip of tea to brace his temper, etiquette be damned.
"I have heard good things about Ming-shizhi. A good disciple."
There was no reply. The only indication he'd heard being a slow blink of eyes like the grass coat of the summer steppe, deceptive peace revealing none of the ravaging wind screaming for ten thousand li unimpeded, king to all but the Eagles.
Mu Qingfang shook such musing from his mind; he would not share his home with this undeserving brother.
"There was another disciple, kneeling before the Bamboo Hut. Is he to be disciplined?"
"He is to remain until collected by Ming Fan."
He kneels like a chained dog for no reason then.
Mu Qingfang's fingers spasmed imperceptibly.
Best to conclude this meeting before he challenged Shen Qingqiu to duel.
"If this healer could assess Shen-shixiong's meridians?"
If he had to restrain himself from gripping Shen Qingqiu's wrist harder than necessary, he took it as additional practice in removing personal feelings from an examination.
He deliberately ignored the tension that gathered in the scholar's shoulders at the physical contact and the almost imperceptible flinch of his qi upon contact, because acknowledging it meant thinking on the reasons for it, which would upset him.
Shen Qingqiu's spirit veins were haggard as always, scarred and slightly crooked and he had obviously used a decent chink of qi throughout the day. However, there was no obvious damage that had expressed over the time of active qi usage and circulation since Shen Qingqiu woke up and the meridian strain from the Deviation was standard as assessed during the scholar's unconsciousness.
He inferred this to Shen Qingqiu, along with a warning to limit his qi usage over the next few days to let his spirit veins recover. Advice he knew would be ignored, just like every other time over decades of Deviations.
As he walked among the bamboo towards the Rainbow Bridge his mind wandered back to Shen Qingqiu.
That man embodied the worst attitudes of society for the lower classes and those outside the system, like his kin, the nomadic tribes, all wrapped in his pretty face.
Truly, he was like a poisonous flower; toxic, but so beautiful.
OC list:
•Jing Shen, Elementalism Peak, 12th Peak, channel elemental qi into the surroundings, changing the landscape and nurturing life, crossover with Qing Jing to update maps. Major agricultural influence.
Please be patient with MQF, there are underlying issues here due to (as always) SQQ's chronic miscommunication. :/
Also! Please let me know if you spot any mistakes~ or if you've constructive criticism tell me! Both are very welcome! :D
