"Ah, Junior, I'm in quite the bind because of you, you know?"

Zhou Cheng does not know, no. Things have changed at the Sect, that much has been clear to anyone with sense. For the past few weeks, he has been put through his paces. All of the Inner Disciples have been. They have been drilled on formations, on how to arrange themselves and attack, how to fly together, how to fight together.

Ultimately, Zhou Cheng was too young to be conscripted for whatever war the Sect Leader sees brewing on the horizon, but they had left the door open for him to volunteer and in another life, perhaps he would've taken that opportunity for glory and honour, to test himself and prove himself. But Hei Lian would not want him to go.

And worse, Hei Lian would not be able to follow.

So he had chosen to remain, and just a few days later, he had been summoned to this disinterested looking Core Disciple's residence. It is only a vague sense of familiarity that places him - Wu Zexian, of the Law Pavilion. He's a tall man, seemingly in his twenties, with a fine set of very thin whiskers and wide peering eyes that Zhou Cheng kind of privately thinks make him look something like a catfish - he doesn't smell like one though. He smells sort of like Song Ren does after a bout of training or hunting - of storms and thunder. It's enough to worry him.

To be considered a problem by such a person is definitely a cause for concern although what truly bothers Zhou Cheng is that he does not understand what is happening.

But what he does understand is what he is supposed to do in situations like this.

"Forgive me for the inconvenience I have caused you, Senior," he says calmly, bowing low, "Whatever actions have caused this, I held no intent of such."

Wu Zexian sighs, bitter annoyance carried on his breath. "See? Your reasonableness makes this harder. Please stop being reasonable, Junior."

Zhou Cheng has no idea what to say to that. Being reasonable has usually helped keep things calm, but now it is a problem? How can being reasonable be a problem? He wants to ask - ask that, and a hundred other things besides, but he is not so bold as to be reckless before someone like this, not when he isn't familiar enough to judge how much leeway he has. There are those who are permissive and even encouraging of questions, and there are those who are intolerant of them.

"Do you remember my cousin, Lei Ming?" he continues, studying Zhou Cheng with the bored look of someone who has no real concern for what is happening before them.

Lei Ming… the name seems vaguely familiar, but Zhou Cheng knows many people in passing. He cannot be expected to remember all of them. Or at least, he won't accept that he can be. It is too many people by half! "Forgive me, Senior, but I do not remember anyone by that name."

Wu Zexian snorts, and for the first time since he's been dragged before him, Zhou Cheng sees something akin to an actual expression on his face. "He'll hate that," he muses quietly, "The Tournament. First round. Ring any bells now?"

Tournament, First Round? Zhou Cheng blinks. The first round had been over very quickly indeed.

When you are fighting, you must never hesitate to end things. Every blow should be the finishing blow.

That had been one of Ao Long's little nuggets of wisdom to him, and he'd studied those words carefully in his mind. In a Tournament, it was important to conserve one's strength and energy, but Zhou Cheng had entered knowing that his chances for actually winning were not exactly the greatest. So he opened every fight with a strong first move.

It just so happened against more than a few they hadn't been prepared to deal with it, and so it was for his first fight - a harsh and heavy Breath had pushed them out of the ring seconds after the refereeing Disciple had called for the fight to begin.

"I… don't remember anything beyond defeating him, Senior," he admits quietly, because well. He doesn't. It was always best to be honest. Zhou Cheng tries very hard to be righteous and honourable, because it is the right thing to do.

"I can see why he hates you so much," Wu Zexian says wryly, without any heat. It doesn't sound like he hates him, which is… good. But nothing about this situation seems all that good, so Zhou Cheng keeps his gaze low and his mood conciliatory. He's seen Hei Lian defuse worse situations by being polite. Maybe he can defuse this one too.

Not that he knows what's going on, but then again, when has that ever stopped Hei Lian?

"Well, it's important to me that you know that none of this is because I want it to happen, Junior. If it were up to me, my cousin would stay mad - maybe use that shame to apply himself some more. As it is, it's not up to me. It's up to our Honoured Grandfather, Elder Lei. And by his word, I have to indulge Cousin Lei's little… vengeance."

He understands now. He is being punished for winning. For being stronger. Such a thing is surely worth spitting blood over, although Zhou Cheng's mouth is fortunately dry.

"If Lei Ming wishes for a rematch, I will gladly face him."

Wu Zexian laughs gently, and it brings the scent of summer rain. "I would greatly like to see that," he says, and there's a rueful edge to his voice, "But alas, it is not to be. My dearest cousin has decided instead that you will atone for your… 'sins' with penitence duty. Are you familiar with night soil, Junior?"

"No, Senior."

"You will be."

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"I hope you're faring well, Brother Zhou. It looks like your new duties are wearing on you."

Zhou Cheng would like to say a great deal many things to such an obvious statement, but Tian Mingfei is the only person who still willingly speaks with him. It hurts to know that those he called his companions avoid him now, even if he can understand the reasons.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Truthfully, Zhou Cheng cannot say that he would be willing to be in the presence of someone like him now, not when Tian Mingfei quietly but still plainly keeps positioning herself to remain upwind of him - but he thinks he'd at least try to send correspondence in some way, make it clear that it wasn't out of shame or anything, just an inability to deal with his new... aroma. It at least lets him get a good, strong whiff of Tian Mingfei's own particular scent - wild and untamed, a conflicting medley of something spicy, sea salt, fresh cut grass and wood, and polished metal but all of it carrying an undercurrent of animal musk.

It's always a little pungent, just enough to make him wrinkle his nose but never enough to water his eyes... which does seem to summarise Tian Mingfei in general.

"Have you been able to speak with the others then?"

She shakes her head, a frown settling on her strangely delicate features. "I have not. Truth be told, I do not know where Kong Meiling is when she is not with you. Brother Song is clinging to Nie Haoren, and I think Brother Shan… may have volunteered for the fighting. Or perhaps he was volunteered. He seems old enough."

A little part of him hopes he was, if only because if Shan Guojin left, then it means he is not ignoring Zhou Cheng deliberately. "And… Hei Lian?" he asks quietly, and his voice does not quaver. It did not.

It did not quaver, so Tian Mingfei can stop looking at him like that. "Senior Bang at the Medical Pavilion has not seen him since everyone left."

Then he's missing. That is the only thing Zhou Cheng can believe because the alternative does not bear thinking about. "You don't think…?"

She shakes her head. "They would never have taken him," she declares, "And he would never have gone. Can you imagine him in a war?"

He forces himself to smile. The mental image of Hei Lian cowering in fear under his cauldron or a wok or some other cooking surface and desperately praying for safety is not humourous in the slightest, but he understands what she is attempting. "I cannot," he admits - and the smile falters moments after. "Then… has nobody seen him?"

She doesn't respond, and for a moment, he feels something burning inside of him. "I managed to wheedle something out of one of the lift guards," she says quietly, "They say he claimed to be delivering a message to you. And one of my Junior's said she saw him speaking to Lei Ming."

Lei Ming. That name again. A flash of fear seizes him because Hei Lian is soft and vulnerable and oh so squishy. "He wouldn't," he says, after a long moment of silence, "That's… that's too far."

Tian Mingfei's only response is to raise a single eyebrow.

"They won't let him. They can't let him. The Elders will stop him, his feud is with me not-"

"If they were going to stop him, they would've already done so." She pauses for a moment, and scratches her chin. "... And it is at least a little with Hei Lian. He was quite sharp to him when he tried to speak with him before. I thought Lei Ming was going to spit blood."

He cannot imagine Hei Lian doing anything of the sort. Hei Lian would roll over and surrender if you looked at him too harshly. Hei Lian has rolled over and surrendered when someone looked at him too harshly. Hei Lian has submitted to people weaker than him. He would fold like his own noodles the moment Lei Ming glanced in his direction.

"If you act rashly - if we act rashly - then Hei Lian is the one who will bear the brunt of it."

"Then what do I do?" His voice came out as a desperate growl and not the frustrated scream he wanted it to be. The Heavenly Misty Peak Sect is Righteous and Orthodox. They are raised and taught to be honourable and just. Zhou Cheng knows that not everyone is able to match this ideal, and sometimes they are cruel and petty.

But they are supposed to be punished. The Sect is meant to punish them! To rein them in and remind them of the ideals! The Elders are meant to be the examples they follow - but if they will not stop Lei Ming…

Tian Mingfei is silent for a long moment. "I do not know," she admits quietly, "Lei Ming has an Elder on his side." She shakes her head. "Just bear with it for now, Brother Zhou. I'll see what I can find."

"I am not the one you should be worried about," he fires back, agitated beyond belief. He does not like his new duties - they hardly tire him, but he has a sensitive nose and even after weeks of shoveling, he is yet to get used to the smell. He doesn't think he ever will. But that pales in comparison to the fear he holds for what Hei Lian might be going through.

Poor, soft, vulnerable Hei Lian… if Zhou Cheng dwells too much on his plight, he might be consumed entirely by rage or despair in equal measures.

"Hei Lian is stronger than you think," Tian Mingfei offers, "But I will do my best to get word of him."

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"Ah, how it gladdens me to see trash like you were you belong - with the rest of the shit."

Zhou Cheng's head snaps towards the voice, eyes flaring dangerously. The overwhelming stench of his… burden makes it hard for him to detect others in his preferred method, but nobody really comes to bother him - not even the other unfortunates working the same duty of spreading 'fertiliser' over the Sect's terraces.

A boy that's only vaguely familiar to him sneers down from his position on a flying carpet, the treasure keeping him aloft and free from the terrible insult of having to walk through the fields. The urge to strike him out of the sky - flying on a tool before a Wind Cultivator? Arrogance! - is quickly muffled as he takes in the sight of the much stronger Inner Disciple standing just behind his tormentor.

An Inner Disciple despite clearly being stronger than his apparent 'superior'. He cannot imagine what kind of reasons one might have for bowing before such scum.

"Come down here then, and I will put you where you belong," he shouts back, Qi roiling along his form.

Lei Ming sneers back down. "Such hideous barking from such a pitiful dog. You should be grateful I did not have you thrown out of the Sect entirely."

"You should be grateful I left you in one piece!"

"It is a good thing I do not care for the barking of dogs," Lei Ming continues, ignoring the bait and only frustrating him further. "I'm surprised you haven't run away yourself though. All your little companions have finally seen you for what you are and left you. Nothing more than a pitiful little wretch."

Despite himself, he flinches. "I am not alone," he calls back, glaring hatefully, "Unlike you, I have people who actually care about me."

He cannot see him clearly, nor even smell him, but he can feel Lei Ming's anger in the turbulent, acidic Qi that stings the air. It just manages to cut through the stench, and brings with it something bitter and sour. "You have nothing," he snarls, furious, "Even your little pet has left you."

Fury surges through him all the more. How dare he! "You took him!"

He scoffs. "I didn't have to," he lies, sneering, "He came running to me the moment he realised the truth of things. After all, only a blind idiot would still stay with you. I must say, his cooking truly is… delightful. I can see why you kept him so close despite how pathetic he is. Really, if he were any more pitiful, I'd just send him back to his parents so I'd stop having to see his ugly-"

"Breath of Heaven Twists the Storm!"

The harsh gale surges out of his lips, spiraling towards the carpet - only to be met with a glimmering cloud that pours forth from the sleeves of the Disciple behind Lei Ming.

"Clouds Shadow the Sun."

Lei Ming leers down at him. "Did you see that? He tried to strike me. Me. I believe that warrants punishment, doesn't it?"

It was a mistake, he knows that. But the only regret Zhou Cheng feels is that he didn't strike harder.