Since the mountains are rather sparsely populated, every village, moderately to heavily isolated from other settlements, eventually developed its own, unique flavor of northerner culture. Sometimes it’s a question of patterns traditionally sewn on outfits-in some places they are floral, in some others, they portray animals or legendary monsters from the times bygone. Sometimes the differences surface in cuisine, sometimes in architecture… but nowhere else is the cultural uniqueness of the north as obvious as various cultural festivals observed by its people.
Some villages have spring festivals, celebrating the bloom of the flowers and cherry tree blossoms. Some other villages celebrate the winter solstice, where the night is the longest. Of course, for the settlements that mostly sustain themselves by farming, of greatest importance are the autumn festivals, where farmers gather the fruits of their labor and prepare for the coming of cold. Some places celebrate the date of their establishment, some make a holiday out of their leader’s birthday.
And then there is Chenfei, where the number one festival was a sparring tournament organized annually by the local cultivator sect.
Although the event was scheduled to officially begin in the afternoon, the western hill overlooking the village had been bustling with activity since early morning. The large meadow on top of the hill was turned into a stadium-the area reserved for fighting was clearly warded off with ad hoc fence, and its corners were marked with large, wooden poles. The early instances of the competition took place in the gymnasium located inside the warrior barracks, but quickly it turned out the building is too small to house hundreds of onlookers, and the event was relocated outdoors. There was also a practical issue of not wanting to risk any significant damage to sect facilities that is almost inevitable where virtually superhuman warriors start having at it with reckless abandon.
Of course, the ones doing the work were the yaren servants employed by the sect. Even on such an important day, they did not have a break! Well, at least in the beginning. After the stadium is finished, and spectating benches are set all around, and the fireplaces and torches illuminating the area are secured in place, and all the participants are grouped, paired, and registered, the servants will also join the spectators and enjoy the show.
Well, except the poor souls at the medical wing. Setting up their makeshift field hospital at a certain distance from the arena, these yaren, specially trained in medical arts, are tasked with taking care of the inevitable casualties that will surface over the course of the fighting. Although the rules stated that the fights last until the first blood, accidents were bound to happen. Stitches, acupuncture needless, bandages, leeches, painkilling herbs, anything a doctor might need, were already at the ready and in abundance.
Of course, such an event can’t happen without ridiculous amounts of logistics. The medics aren’t the only ones who need to be supplied with enough materials-the administrative wing of the sect, adjacent to the library, was also in charge of delivering and counting weapons for the warrior participants, seats and benches for the spectators, and, last but not least, food for the audience. The entire village donates all its pastries, fruit, vegetables, meats, and drinks to the sect, which are next counted and divided among several cooking stalls deployed among the seats. The chefs are volunteers from Chenfei, usually middle-aged and older ladies, who have decades of experience in preparing food for their households. Their job is not the one devoid of responsibility, either- they must make sure that the cooking fires won’t accidentally spread beyond their designated fireplaces, and they are also in charge of distributing alcoholic drinks, making sure no kids will use the confusion to get drunk, and no adults will get overly drunk and cause trouble for everyone else.
The audience will count in hundreds. Pretty much the entire village, except the newborn children and eldest residents who can’t make the journey uphill anymore, will be gathered on the top of the eastern hill soon. Add to that the yaren servants and the cultivators who were deemed too novice or were otherwise unwilling to fight for whatever reason, and you have a chaotic mass of people that only sticks together by some weird miraculous unity, unique to this place, and developed over years in no tiny extend thanks to master Lans teachings of unity and benevolence, that rubbed on both his students and locals alike.
And this year, the already swollen numbers of spectators, have been additionally boosted by a dozen or so “esteemed guests” from a major southern sect. Having received their seats in a privileged place that gave a good view of the entire arena, they looked both menacing and dignified. Their black, cloud-decorated robes, very different from white robes worn by the cultivators of Shuangshan, with significantly more tanned skin tones, and raven black hair, made them stand out even more so from among the crowd. Most people, whenever they glanced at them, would give a nervous smile, then quickly speed away, trying not provoke unnecessary attention from these weird foreigners.
Meanwhile, Wang Shunji was mingling with the servants and peasants, chatting up girls and having a jolly good time. Originally he wanted to find Fengli to either prank her or apologize to her(he wasn’t sure which one), but failing to find her, he quickly forgot about it and focused on other onlookers. While servants generally knew what kind of jerk he is and treated him with distance and contempt, the peasant girls idolized him and were madly in love with his handsome face and legendary(at least as far as the village of Chenfei is concerned) skills. He was in the center of attention, and he loved it. Even those who disliked him had little doubt he will win this, and further into the future, succeed old man Lan as the grandmaster of the sect. He was just too strong, too talented, too handsome, and too charismatic, and no matter how lazy or mischievous his personality was, he naturally drew to himself those who admire power and authority.
Beyond the rowdy crowds of onlookers, inside the pavilion designated for warrior-participants, there was a group of Shuangshan cultivators who didn’t think highly of this event and weren’t willing to mingle with the locals or play around like children. Most of them had red ribbons tied around their dominant arm, which signified their privileged position as those who trained or used to train directly under master Lan, and subsequently, isolated them from the other cultivators, servants, and villagers alike. However, they took pride in that and would have it no other way, as they held others to equally high standards as they held themselves. They were the elite of the twin hills, and they knew it.
Although among their ranks were some of the veterans who first joined the sect around the time it was established 20 years ago, their leader was a teenage girl with black hair braided neatly behind her back. Everyone in this particular group treated her with reverence and wordlessly followed her every suggestion as if it was an order. Despite her relatively young age, Bai Lianfei was the second strongest student of the Shuangshan, however, it’s not her strength that legitimized her importance among the red ribbons. It wasn’t her relation to Lan Caolu either-although in recent months, due to his declining health, she took a lot of his responsibilities on her shoulders, even going as far as leading the training sessions that were supposed to be supervised by him personally.
No- it’s her virtue that made those who respect such traits follow her lead. She was more disciplined and more penitent than anyone. Never seen pursuing a hobby for the fun of it, she was always seen training, meditating, fasting, or helping with administrative duties in the library. Yet at the same time, unlike certain other students, she would never arrogantly boast her achievements or use her position to bully others or act in a disrespectful way towards neither servants nor her inferiors. Soon enough, she attracted followers who admired these traits, and they followed a clique within the school.
To Bai Lianfei’s right side, stood a much older man in his late twenties. His long brown hair was tied up neatly above his head, and his cold, yet graceful demeanor demanded, combined with otherworldly physical beauty, won him the respect, admiration and made him an object of desire of many women and men alike. But Chen Mengyao ignored the advances of his countless fans and suitors, and remained indifferent as an iceberg. He was one of the first disciples of the Shuangshan sect, and would rarely be seen in the twin hills anymore-instead he traveled the land, exorcising evil spirits and hunting devil cultivators whenever they arose. However, whenever he did visit, he’d proudly put a red ribbon around his left upper arm, signifying his status as one who once studied directly under the master. He followed the lead of Bai Lianfei without uttering a word, and some speculated there might be more going on between the two of them than met the eye….
….
And soon enough, the festivities had begun. Usually, the beginning of the tournament would be officially announced by the grandmaster of the school, however, old man Lan Caolu was nowhere to be seen. His absence caused no concern to the warriors of Shuangshan and residents of Chenfei, as they already got used to his continuous lack of presence during recent months. However, the delegates of Wuyun were outraged. The old man, who seemed to be their leader, was stroking his beard nervously but said nothing. However, the younger members of the group weren’t as composed.
“This is a sacrilege!” exclaimed one of the cultivators impatiently, his eyebrows furrowed in disapproval. He had wild, unkempt black hair that flowed freely to his shoulders. Based on his facial features and the pitch of his voice, he couldn’t be older than twenty and seemed to be the youngest of the group.
“This event has nothing to do with martial etos, it’s just a festival for the peasants!” He continued, comrades, save for one, all nodded in agreement. Unfortunately, the one who wasn’t particularly amused by his efforts, was that very old man who was seated in the center of the group, and he gave the youngster an ice-cold glance.
“Be quiet, fool. We’re representing Wuyun here. Stay respectful to our hosts!”
The young man gave an apologetic bow and quickly retreated behind the backs of his larger comrades. His suck up attempt failed this time, but no worries, there will be many occasions in the future~
However, this exchange did not escape the ever-sensitive hearing of Zhanzhan’s cat ears. It wasn’t the first time she saw visitors from other school visits, but Wuyun sect was well known for being a shady, untrustworthy, and generally speaking, quite a nasty organization, and after delegating some menial tasks to other servants-as a favor, that is-she took it upon herself to keep an eye and ear on these unusual and ominous guests. Also, although she didn’t quite believe Fengli’s words about incoming trouble, if something were to happen, then these people should be the prime suspects! Who knows, by eavesdropping on them, she could be saving lives! Safely tucked behind a bench some distance away from them…
“Look who we have here~!”
Suddenly, she felt someone grabbing her by the collar from behind. At this moment Zhanzhan knew she messed up. The fur on her ears stood up, her tail straightened up like an arrow and a heavy drop of sweat dripped down her temple. She tried to turn around and take a glance at her assailant, but before she can even move an inch, she felt herself being lifted up. Then she flew, spinning around in the air like a tornado until she felt a pair of strong and muscular arms catching her around her waist. The world was spinning madly, there were little stars floating in her field of vision, and it took her several seconds of confusion to realize she found herself in the midst of the very same group she was stalking just a moment ago. They were looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
“Looks like some stray cat was looking for an owner….” said an unmistakenly feminine voice coming from the direction she was crouching in just a moment ago. Zhanzhan sat up and noticed a tanned woman waving at her in an overly friendly manner. She, too, was wearing characteristic black robes decorated with cloud patterns.
“Don’t worry~” the woman smiled at her, showing all her white teeth, which nicely contrasted with her skin tone “we will adopt you~ For the duration of this event, that is!”
Zhanzhan wanted to protest and getaway, but the younger man who spoke rashly before grabbed her from behind, dragged her onto the bench reserved for Wuyun representatives, and seated himself to her right. The woman who caught her sat to her left.
“I’m Mei Rulan” she introduced herself, giving a polite, though a little undignified bow. “And that idiot is Bai Yunru. Since you wanted to get to know us all so hard, we’re pleased to make your acquaintance!”
Zhanzhan shook her head and felt her face getting all red. This can’t be happening! What are the other servants going to think when they see her sitting with these weirdos! Oh, the shame!
But on the other hand…being so close to them means keeping tabs on them on every occasion. It seems that all ten delegates of Wuyun are here now. She’s going to spy on their actions and take note of everything they say, no suspicious activity will escape her black and white cat ears!
She swallowed her pride and dedicated her heart to this noble mission.
*devil cultivators: blanket name for those who practice cultivation in unorthodox, harmful and incorrect ways
*acupuncture and acupressure: highly advanced medical arts which heal the body by tampering with its meridians
