It was good to be home.
The tingling cold, the unpredictable mists, the soothing greens and calming grey of the exposed rocks; all these were a balm, of sorts, to the soreness that arose from stepping back onto Mount Song and the sect upon it— he’d missed it, and only upon his return did he realize that he’d missed it terribly.
He Jiangshan and Fang Xiaoxiao were, as always, a whirlwind of energy, two troubles attached by the hip. This time, though, they’d brought along another— a small teen who looked to be younger than Fang Xiaoxiao, and radiating the same energy as a cornered animal, too. Looking at the two attaching to him on either sides, though, Xuan Lang sighed. “Stop bullying him.”
Breakfast came and went. The two riots only seemed more fired up after even more food, and it wasn’t long before the courtyard became lively— Xuan Lang sat on the raised hallways that lined it, Ji Hualiu on the bench under the tree. Fang Xiaoxiao and He Jiangshan, as always, chattered about this and that and what happened on Mid-Autumn and whew, Da-shixiong, you weren’t there to see the mess Thousand Fields brought onto New Year’s banquet, and it really did feel like he’d come home.
The tension of the year’s travel dissipated— everything was fine, he was home, and everyone had gotten along just fine, too, at home.
“Here,” Xuan Lang said, handing a small wooden box to He Jiangshan. “Don’t ask me what it is. Figure it out.”
It was a box he’d purchased from a town near the borders to the Grass Wastelands; it was a toolbox of sorts, but Xuan Lang hadn’t grasped a single bit of the explanation the seller had given him. From the looks of it, both the box and the metal tools inside were old, but very well-kept. Xuan Lang had expected it to be expensive, but for some reason the seller was willing to part with it for relatively cheap, saying that it was better for it to have a home that used it. The strange part was, he supposed, that when Bai Nian came over to see what was taking him so long, he agreed that Xuan Lang should buy it.
“Eh?” He Jiangshan’s eyes widened. “What’s this? Where’d you buy it, Da-shixiong? Thank you!”
“Near Grass Wastelands.”
“All right! When I figure out what this is for, I’ll let you know, then,” He Jiangshan said with a wide grin, clutching the box close to his chest. Fang Xiaoxiao, who’d been listening with interest, turned her gaze to Xuan Lang too. He let out a small snort.
Of course he’d gotten something for her, too. This time, it was in a pouch. “Use it when you get your sword.”
She opened it with a grin, but the sight of what was inside turned her grin into something like shock. “This is…!”
“From Shizun and me. Be sure to get a good sword from the Sword Mound.”
Though in the pouch was only one small thing, it was something many would pay half a fortune’s worth— a scale from a Four-Clawed Vermilion Dragon. The one they’d stumbled across had been a juvenile, so it wasn’t quite as powerful as an adult or a Five-Clawed one, it was enough to sharpen the sword glint to a frightening degree— once Fang Xiaoxiao got her sword and undoubtedly embark on the path of the sword cultivator, even if she was in early Core Formation stage, she could stand a chance fighting a peak Core Formation cultivator. Of course, that was on the premise that she studied properly. In a wordless way, this scale was how Bai Nian expressed his expectations for her: she was the only one out of them most suited for his cultivation style, and he’d hoped she would put this scale to good use.
Ji Hualiu smiled upon seeing what it was. “I’m sure Yin Shixiong would be happy to have the chance to temper the Vermilion Dragon Scale dust into a sword once the Sword Mound opens.”
Fang Xiaoxiao was still struggling to find words. In the end, after looking like she was about to dart around from restless energy that found no recourse, she exploded, “Gah! Will do! I’m so!”
“Calm down,” Ji Hualiu laughed. “Go practice or meditate. You both are looking like it’s torturing you to stay.”
Of course the two of them would; they were so drawn into the gifts that He Jiangshan was already laying out the tools on the wooden floor, eyes sparkling with awe as he held up some bronze-like tool under the sun. At the dismissal, the two of them left like the wind, too excited to even chatter up a storm like they often did. Xuan Lang shook his head, but a slight smile had wormed its way into his lips.
It was just him and Ji Hualiu now, and the afternoon breeze.
It had been less than a year, but they’d both changed quite a bit. She was always a sight for sore eyes, though, and not only because she was beautiful; the warmth in her eyes that used to be hesitant and loose had solidified with confidence and tempered calm now.
“Yours, of course.”
“Ah?”
Inside a somewhat translucent purple jade box was a bloom: the Mushen’s Footsteps, picked and preserved at its most brilliant. Ji Hualiu didn’t dare open it. Staring at it through its box, it took her a moment to realize that her breath had gone shallow and almost still.
Though the Mushen’s Footsteps was a beautiful flower of large, white petals dotted with faded shades of the rainbows at the base, it also was a flower that could only survive in places of pure energy. It held onto it, too, and was one of the few things that could purify spiritual roots— in this case, it could purify Wood spiritual roots, and would be priceless for someone with double spiritual roots like Ji Hualiu.
If he’d bought her a hairpiece, everyone would talk about it— and while Xuan Lang was unbothered by the gossip, he had to admit, Ji Qiaofeng’s expectations weighed down on him. It wasn’t that he didn’t hold tender feelings for Ji Hualiu; it was that much like Bai Nian, he too felt like too many parts of this, at this moment, still had the taste of the Sect Leader’s ambitions. Xuan Lang wanted to stand on his own two feet first, to court Ji Hualiu only when the two of them knew that this was their choice they were making.
“Shixiong.”
“Mm?”
“No one can see this.” Bright as sunlight through the leaves, she laughed. “It’s mine now.”
“Mm.”
A comfortable silence fell upon them. After some time, though, she sighed and started to rise. “Ah, did you get something for Xiao-shidi? Even just a customary gift would be fine, I think.”
Oh, their xiao-shidi. Xuan Lang remembered him, now, that mousy teen with the vigilance of wild rabbits. Xuan Lang looked up to Ji Hualiu. “What kind of person is he?”
“Timid, expresses excess guilt. He was an outer gate disciple since he was nine, but then Shizun picked him. You were there when he did that, right? Did Shizun say anything on why?"
Xuan Lang shook his head. "He never mentioned it."
It was the day they left the sect, and Bai Nian had passed by Shen Jing who was walking up the stairs bringing a roll of fabric from the warehouse office for the upcoming winter. Bai Nian was not the most attentive— which wasn't to say he was absentminded— but upon looking up, he paused in his steps, almost making Xuan Lang bump into him. And after laying a hand on the child, he announced him as his direct disciple. It was a no-nonsense fare, too— after rushing through the tea ceremony Bai Nian had sent a message to Holy Tree Peak saying that he was taking a disciple— a disciple whose talents was nothing to glance at, it seemed.
"Well, he's not a bad kid," Ji Hualiu sighed. "He never steps on anyone's toes and if anything, he caves too easily. He’s extremely lucky to be in our Silver Forest Peak— even Holy Tree can be… competitive. It's just that I feel he'd be extremely vulnerable to qi deviation. I hope Shizun looks out for that."
"Mm. Felt so too."
Silver Forest Peak was such a small peak, small enough that competitiveness was negligible and bullying even less so. The atmosphere was such a peaceful one, too, that marring it with conflict always felt like a defilement. Bai Nian, despite favoring Xuan Lang and Fang Xiaoxiao, was never partial; if the two were wrong then they were wrong, and he was fair and not too quick to jump into judgement. For that reason, the previously sharp, dignified and cold air of the Silver Forest Peak and its people had softened to that of silk hiding steel— still just as sharp, but far more serene.
But even in this new identity, Shen Jing stuck out.
Ji Hualiu shook her head in the end, and Xuan Lang was inclined to do the same. That was Bai Nian’s matter, and they wouldn’t get into it. Cradling the jade box close to her chest, Ji Hualiu gave him another gentle, relieved smile, tucking her hair back behind her ear before giving him a nod.
"Ah, well. Get some rest, Shixiong."
Thank you for the chapter!