Chapter Text
Wei Qingwei sent a missive to Shen-shixiong the moment he reached his peak. He had a passing disciple write it out, requesting a weapon appraisal at whichever time and place was most convenient.
The disciple taking the message was the youngest on the peak—as Wei Qingwei had only just ascended, none of the disciples were his own, and so even that disciple was around 17 years old. At the cusp of being a senior disciple, Xie Ling was still mastering weapon inscriptions.
Watching him fly off to Qing Jing peak, Wei Qingwei wondered how things had gotten so disarrayed mere months within their ascensions.
They had centuries ahead of them, but already they were facing a heavenly being that demanded they make nice with their harshest martial sibling? Where was the justice?
His shizun’s instructions on crafting a weapon always went through his mind before complaining, however. That every stage of the weapon’s creation determined its final value… that all preparation must cooperate to make a truly notable sword…
They may be new as peak lords, but he wondered if other generations also dysfunctioned similarly before they got used to working together. While each peak ran independently, relationships with other peak lords were crucial. If a disciple on Wan Jian peak was struggling with imbuing spiritual power in his inscriptions, and the hallmaster responsible for inscriptions was unable to make any progress with that disciple, assistance from a peak like Qing Jing was necessary!
Wei Qingwei had only put off that option for Xie Ling because… Shen Qingqiu was terrifying to deal with!
Wei Qingwei was a large man. He was strong from working the forges and he was built with broad shoulders the same way his father was. He wasn’t as tall as Shen-shixiong, but the way that man sneered down his nose, one would think he hated everyone on principle. Even Wei Qingwei doubted he could win a fight with Shen-shixiong, only by virtue of the cold aura he exuded.
Shen Qingqiu was meticulous about his sword-care too, and it showed. He took offense on behalf of his cultivation easily, and even with a weak base Wei Qingwei never risked angering the man.
Wei Qingwei laughed with him and joked like he would with any other martial sibling, but his words didn’t seem to land the same way. Neither of them were at fault.
While all succeeding disciples had tried to get along long before the ascension, it was foolish to act as if they cooperated smoothly—and Peak Lord Shen had been the last of them confirmed to join the rank.
When the answering missive came, even Xie Ling was anxiously shifting from one foot to the other to hear if it had gone alright.
“We will host the peak lord of Qing Jing later today,” Wei Qingwei assured, after he had read through the short message. “Would disciple Xie Ling attend to serve tea and cake?”
Xie Ling just looked relieved that the missives had been conveyed well enough.
He saluted. “This disciple will be present.”
“Wonderful. We’ll get the bakery to make something that isn’t too sweet, and if you would like I can request a student join written qi-imbuing lessons on Qing Jing.
Xie Ling blanched, but didn’t refuse the offer.
Wei Qingwei chuckled. It wouldn't be any good if he stressed about the meeting too!
‧₊˚❀‧₊˚.
Despite being a perfectly respectable temperature, Wei Qingwei’s residence felt as hot as the peak forges for all the sweat wetting his brow. Any moment now Shen-shixiong would knock on his residence door and he would have to answer, exercising every lesson in manners and etiquette he could remember, because Shen-shixiong had standards.
The martial family relation had never been considered enough for Shen Qingqiu to drop formality, ever since he was granted the position of Qing Jing succeeding disciple.
His hair was always done up and his robes were always elaborate and elegant, as was befitting the peak of scholarly arts… but for Wei Qingwei, who specialised in cultivation skills around sword mastery, it was all a bit impractical.
He knew the correct social forms and how to maintain a respectable image as a representative of the sect, and his role in being of the highest station on the peak, and his responsibilities as the third highest peak in seniority of the sect—but Shen Qingqiu’s social forms were always impeccable. It made even Wei Qingwei (who was not a weak-willed man) feel sombre in some regards.
And so even the shichen of preparation to greet Shen-shixiong seemed inadequate. Xie Ling was in the corner of the room, having already steeped tea leaves once in preparation for making more upon the Qing Jing peak lord’s arrival. Wei Qingwei had cleaned out the room to host him in, and was trying to remember if anything from the last sword appraisal had been to Shen-shixiong’s liking.
It wasn’t the sword appraisal itself that Wei Qingwei was worried about—he knew Shen Qingqiu treated his sword with the reverence any spiritual sword deserved and more. It was the suspicious circumstances!
Wei Qingwei felt the presence of the (possibly heavenly) being no matter what action he took. He had chosen between two sets of tea leaves and expected the being to correct him if he chose one that was not as nice as the other. He had picked his usual sword sounding tools from his office and wondered if he should get a new set to ensure the being did not ‘punish’ him.
He did not know the ‘punishment protocol’, but any creature that was not demonic and yet had the power to threaten every peak lord into tasks… it was an unknown and dangerous variable. It was unpredictable, and might find a flaw in any action it deemed wrongly done. The assistance of the scholarly peak would be vital in researching the being if only Peak Lord Shen wasn’t purposefully being left out of the loop.
Xie Ling snuck into the room and tilted a hanging scroll slightly, then stepped back and righted it again.
“It doesn’t look straight,” he murmured.
Wei Qingwei stared at it as well.
Was it straight? Crooked? He couldn’t tell! It looked fine! But Shen Qingqiu, a master of the scholarly arts, would no doubt fail to give the tapestry so much as a passing glance unless it was askew.
It was a few lines about choosing between a golden or a silver nest, an art piece gifted to him by the previous Wan Jian peak lord. If Shen-shixiong asked him about what it meant, Wei Qingwei was afraid he would have no answer.
He was not from a poor family and had attended regular studies before moving to the sect, but with his love for swords, most of that knowledge had long since faded. He’d never studied all four of the arts either, though they had no place on this peak.
A surprisingly normal knock on the door startled him out of thought. Xie Ling squeaked as he jumped, and quickly dashed back to the kitchen.
Ah, such unfilial disciples, Wei Qingwei mused.
He looked forward to choosing his own disciples when the time came. He wondered if other peak lords were the same.
“It’s unlocked,” Wei Qingwei assured as he opened the door. “Come in, Shen-shixiong.”
Shen Qingqiu stepped into the room, a firm hand on his sheathed sword. “Peak lord Shen Qingqiu greets peak lord Wei Qingwei.” He looked hesitant. “You wanted to appraise Xiu Ya?”
“Yes,” Wei Qingwei nodded. He gestured to the low table. “Please take a seat.”
The candles lit around the room were giving a more ominous look than Wei Qingwei had been hoping for, but as the sun was low in the sky he hadn’t wanted to rely on natural light for the meeting.
Shen Qingqiu removed his sheath from his waist and quietly took a seat opposite him.
“Do you have any concerns about—”
“Ah! I’m sure Xiu Ya is fine!” Wei Qingwei quickly assured, catching onto the source of Shen-shixiong’s frustrations. Of course someone with an upbringing as refined as Shen-shixiong noticed the meeting was earlier than it needed to be. A sword like Xiu Ya was prestigious and illustrious unto itself, why wouldn’t Shen-shixiong worry about his sword’s health?
It was righteous and respectable that he cared for his sword to this extent!
The atmosphere around Shen Qingqiu settled towards calming the tension Wei Qingwei had permeated the air with long before this meeting. The scholarly peak studied posture and poise to such a level of expertise that it was truly amazing to see its effect.
“I hope to call every peak lord for an appraisal,” Wei Qingwei half-lied. He did plan to ask everyone… when the regular yearly appraisal was due.
Shen Qingqiu’s lips parted, “Ah. I see.”
“New duties as peak lord, I’m still balancing everything out,” Wei Qingwei explained, feeling much better with suspicion out of the way.
No, Shen-shixiong, I’m sure there is no heavenly being that is forcing me to do an early sword appraisal just for you! Don’t worry about it!
Shen Qingqiu looked coldly around the room, no longer focused on Wei Qingwei now that he had been assured his sword was likely alright.
Wei Qingqwei cleared his throat. “Disciple Ling, please prepare us some tea.”
Xie Ling stepped into the room and bowed. “Yes, Shizun. Greetings, Shen-shibo.”
Wei Qingwei almost grimaced at the unfamiliar address, both to himself and to Shen-shixiong. They really were ‘shizun’ and ‘shibo’ now.
Shen Qingqiu nodded, and Wei Qingwei smiled as Xie Ling quickly returned to the kitchen.
“Your sword, shixiong?” Wei Qingwei requested.
Shen Qingqiu delicately lifted the sheath from his lap and laid it in Wei Qingwei’s hands.
Ah, the elegance! The grace! The sword truly suited its master!
Nevermind that, Wei Qingwei inspected the outside of the sheath first. Xiu Ya’s sheathe was between a white and cream-coloured leather, the central portion of both sides left blank while the outside edges of the sheath consisted of intricate, burned-in floral patterns.
It was the highest quality work, likely purchased from Wan Jian itself—if not from one of its most skilled former disciples. As was proper and deserved for such a top-class armament.
After detecting no faults in the sheath and deciding the condition was already near-perfect (no need to rectify any smoothed edges in the design yet), the thin strip of silver making up the locket shone in the candlelight and even the chape was (shockingly for any sheath that was in use!) unscratched. The silver used was so light in colour that it matched the white scabbard fine, and Wei Qingwei took the usual few moments to appreciate the piece.
As discreetly as he could, he eyed the space in his sight he imagined the heavenly being to reside. No response. If he completed the task, it would reward him—it appeared that starting the appraisal was not enough for that.
“Could you please unsheath your sword?” Wei Qingwei requested.
【 (/ε＼*) 】
...What was that supposed to mean? The being had been making such 'comments' at random intervals, and Wei Qingwei had defaulted to ignoring them lest he forget what was actually happening around him to speak with it.
Shen Qingqiu silently reached for Xiu Ya’s hilt and tilted the sheath. Wei Qingwei held his breath as Xiu Ya was released. If he did not, he would gasp, as he always did when such a fine sword specimen was presented.
It was beautiful.
The sword was thin and long, decorated only with its name at the top of its blade in a script that was far fancier than many swordmasters could scribe. The metal gleamed in Shen Qingqiu’s hands as it was held out for inspection.
The hilt of the sword was embellished as if the sword was an ornament for display, and looked truly resplendent in Shen-shixiong’s hands. The white tassel swayed slightly and Wei Qingwei held his hands over the blade, expanding his senses to confirm what he already knew: the sword was perfectly forged, and had been maintained well.
It was clear that it was oiled regularly, and imperfections (if any developed!) rubbed out with a fine cloth. As he detected, it seemed to have been powdered consistently too—not surprising.
Wei Qingwei looked up and opened his mouth to give the earned praise on sword-care, to find Shen Qingqiu’s gaze seemed to have settled onto the poem-tapestry on the adjacent wall. Please don’t ask about the tapestry, Wei Qingwei thought. Please, shixiong, don’t do this to me!
He quickly cleared his throat to avert Shen-shixiong’s attention. “Shixiong, would you mind channeling your spiritual energy…”
“Of course.”
Shen Qingqiu’s curt response was accompanied by the snow-white flash of Xiu Ya, a luminous showing of his soul connection to the blade.
Wei Qingwei raised his hands over the glowing sword and tentatively felt at the flow of energy through the surrounding air.
“Your connection to the blade is stable as well,” Wei Qingwei concluded. “Its soul is healthy.” And rather content.
Shen Qingqiu nodded, looking at the sword with proud satisfaction, but also relief.
【 20 A-points! 】
The blue being notified him in the corner of his sight, letting him know the ‘mission’ was complete. He was very lucky to have received a doable mission. Something like hugging the peak lord seated before him would have been truly impossible… It was comical to think he had worried about his mission: Peak Lord Shen was always perfectly polite when such important matters arose.
What other comments could be made about their second highest peak lord, he certainly lived up to the scholarly image and did not embarrass their peak in that regard.
Wei Qingwei watched Shen Qingqiu quietly resheathe his sword and place it back on his lap.
His expression was cold and professional as always, but it also held hints of contemplation.
“It has been very well taken care of,” Wei Qingwei offered. As expected, he didn’t say.
Shen Qingqiu met his eyes warningly. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Xie Ling chose that moment to walk in with the tea tray, steam wafting off it. There were even cakes.
“Ah, Disciple Ling, perfect timing,” Wei Qingwei chuckled, keeping the terrified edge out of his voice. Shen Qingqiu’s snappish behaviour was well-known, and he had no intention of becoming a sudden subject of ire! “Shen-shixiong, I mentioned that Disciple Ling was hoping to attend some classes on your peak…”