Zhu Guangli had been on the road for a shichen and already regretted taking the carriage.

He was nauseous, though whether it was from motion sickness or an uneasy mind he couldn’t say. The atmosphere inside the carriage was dim and stuffy, and he was jostled every time they hit even the smallest bump.

His cousin sat across from him, perfectly at ease with his deep magenta robes arranged neatly around him, engrossed in a book. Zhu Zhaohui never failed to look genteel and scholarly, his deep even when Zhu Guangli was certain that underneath the book cover wasn’t a collection of poetry or a cultivation manual, but some sordid novel he had bribed one of the servants into procuring for him.

Reading would certainly make the time go by faster, but Zhu Guangli knew it would just make him queasier.

He felt bored to death. The boredom was easily worse than the nausea.

If he had taken a horse he at least would have had more to look at and reins to keep his hands busy.

He fidgeted with his sleeves. It was absorbing most of his willpower not to pick the skin around his fingernails bloody.

There was nothing for him to do. Not at this point.

In the past year, Zhu Guangli had worked tirelessly to the Autumn Valley Immortal Youth Tournament. He had trained, he had studied, he had committed to memory the name of every moderately important cultivator expected to attend, and further investigated the strengths and weaknesses of anyone who was expected to perform well.

Zhu Guangli had done everything in his power to ensure that he would get second place.

Zhu Zhaohui, of course, would place first.

He was head disciple, and heir to Denglong Palace. As his right hand, it was Zhu Guangli’s duty to ensure his victory and maintain his sect’s position at the top of the cultivation world.

The tournament, purportedly an event to foster harmony between the sects through friendly competition, instead fostered delusions of grandeur in even the most insignificant cultivators. Just a few weeks ago, some disheveled rogue cultivator had had the gall to scold him after poaching his night hunt.

The carriage hit a particularly large hole and jolted Zhu Guangli, who swallowed a whimper and covered his mouth with his sleeve.

“Whose territory are we in?” he muttered. “Do they not have the means to maintain their roads? This is an embarrassment.”

Zhu Zhaohui hummed vaguely, not looking up from his book.

He sighed and leaned against the wall of the carriage.

Desperate for anything to distract him, he listened in on the conversation of the other disciples who were riding alongside them.

“How are you so sure that Shu Yanlin is the number one beauty of our generation?” someone said, probably Zhu Yuanyu if he had to guess, one of his less interesting distant cousins. “It’s not like you’ve actually seen her.”

“My Er-ge met her on a night hunt!” another voice protested. Zhu Huang? He was even more insipid than Zhu Yuanyu. “He said everyone is right to call her Yishu Xiannu. She’s a peerless beauty!”

A third voice chimed in. “What about Feng Chi Sect’s Phoenix?” Zhu Chunyi wasn’t as brainless as the other two, but that could hardly be counted as merit worthy.

Zhu Huang scoffed. “As if you could mention Ru Lianxia in the same breath as Yishu Xiannu!”

Dull as the conversation was, Zhu Guangli found a certain amusement in listening to his cousins argue over girls that would only glance their way if the sun rose in the West. The closest thing to a worthwhile quality any of them possessed were the Denglong Palace uniforms on their backs.

Their conversation had at least given him something new to think about. He glanced back to his singular non-insufferable cousin.

Zhu Zhaohui was not betrothed. His father, Sect Leader Zhu, hadn’t entertained any talk of marriage alliances either.

“Da-ge,” Zhu Guangli said. “What do you think about Shu Yanlin?”

“Is that so?” Zhu Zhaohui replied, not looking up from his book.

“Da-ge,” Zhu Guangli repeated, nudging his boot with his own.

Zhu Zhaohui jumped and looked up. “I’m sorry.” He smiled apologetically and set the book in his lap. “What were you saying?”

“I asked what you thought of Shu Yanlin.”

Zhu Zhaohui furrowed his brow. “Weifeng-zun’s little disciple?”

“Mn.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met, but everyone speaks very highly of her. Why do you ask?”

Zhu Guangli hadn’t met her himself either. Weifeng-zun avoided social gatherings between the sects like the plague, only appearing for the most important functions, and Shu Yanlin went where she did, dogging her steps. He tilted his head towards their cousins riding outside. “Our cousins are discussing her peerless beauty.”

“Ah.” Zhu Zhaohui leaned back against his seat. “She’s a bit young for me. Isn’t she only fifteen?”

Zhu Guangli shrugged. “Five years won’t be so much in a decade. Are you interested in anyone else? I could arrange a meeting.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Shu Yanlin wasn’t a bad candidate. Age difference aside, she was nearly perfect. A beautiful prodigy from Zhai Xing Peak, one of the oldest sects in the cultivation world. It was rumored she formed her golden core at age nine. However, she specialized in medical cultivation, which meant that regardless of talent, her power wouldn’t undermine Zhu Zhaohui’s. Everyone said she had impeccable manners and a warm, gentle disposition. Someone kind, even slightly meek, would best suit Zhu Zhaohui.

It wouldn’t be hard to orchestrate a fateful meeting between them.

Zhu Zhaohui huffed a quiet laugh. “No, that isn’t necessary. There isn’t anyone. I haven’t given the matter hardly any thought, it’s not as though there’s much of a point.”

Zhu Guangli knew as well as Zhu Zhaohui did that Sect Leader Zhu would have the final say in his son’s marriage. But that just meant that Zhu Guangli needed to plan ahead.

While he hoped that someone like Shu Yanlin would catch his cousin’s eye, he felt confident he could convince his uncle that even a marriage to a penniless farmer’s daughter with a face that made babies cry was an advantageous match.

After all, wasn’t it in its own way a declaration of power to eschew finding a well connected wife? That Denglong Palace could drift like clouds and wild storks, unburdened by worldly concerns like strategic marriages.

“Guangli,” Zhu Zhaohui said. “Stop sulking.”

He straightened up. “I wasn’t—” He folded his arms. “Never mind.”

Zhu Zhaohui smiled at him knowingly. “I suppose you do have a point. Many people meet their cultivation partner at the tournament. Is there someone you have your eye on?”

Before Zhu Guangli could respond, his cousin covered his face with his sleeve and burst into laughter. “You don’t have to look so horrified!”

Zhu Guangli closed his eyes and schooled his expression into neutrality before reopening them. “I’m focusing on my cultivation. I’m not interested in marriage.”

“Yes, of course,” Zhu Zhaohui said, resting his chin on his hand. “But you know, it isn’t uncommon for young cultivators to have, well, dalliances, at the tournament.”

He gritted his teeth. “I think your reading material may be unduly influencing your mind, Da-ge.”

Zhu Zhaohui hid his face behind his sleeve again and shook with poorly concealed laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” He lowered his sleeve, his mirth subdued. “Really, I just want to get this tournament ordeal over with as soon as possible.”

“Over with?” Zhu Guangli asked. “Da-ge, you shouldn’t worry. You’ll place first. No one else has a chance.”

Zhu Zhaohui just smiled blandly. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. How can I know the will of heaven?”

Zhu Guangli knew it wasn’t the will of heaven that troubled his cousin.

“Guangli, again with the sulking.” Zhu Zhaohui sighed. “It’s really alright. I just don’t want you to overly pressure yourself. The tournament only happens every five years, you should try and enjoy yourself.”

“You should try and enjoy yourself,” he shot back.

“I will, I promise,” Zhu Zhaohui conceded.

Liar.

Zhu Guangli leaned against the side of the carriage and closed his eyes. “I’m going to try and rest. Wake me up if we stop for a break.”

“En.”

Zhu Guangli heard the rustle of paper as his cousin picked his wretched novel back up. He would never rob his cousin of one of his precious few joys in life, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have vivid fantasies about slashing that book to pieces with his sword.

He would not describe the remainder of his journey to the Autumn Valley as restful.

—

“Now,” Song Jiayi said, holding up a finger. “Correct me if I’m mistaken.In the middle of the night, in the middle of a forest you are unfamiliar with, the two of you took the extremely dangerous spiritual beast we just captured out of the qiankun bag, removed the talisman we are using to suppress it’s strength, and followed it, alone, into the woods?”

Heng Xiaowen and Lu Xiuying, kneeling next to each other on the ground, nodded their heads.

Song Jiayi muttered something under her breath. “You two blockheads then proceeded to try and catch yet another spiritual beast.” She lifted the qiankun bag containing the rabbit up. It was still slightly blood splattered. “With the help of the first spiritual beast.” She gestured to Tangtao, who was chewing on Heng Xiaowen’s ponytail, entirely unrepentant. “Alone. In the woods. Without telling anyone or even leaving a note! Not even a ‘Shizun, we took the horse to go beast hunting, if we’re not here when you wake up, we’re bleeding out in the woods somewhere.’ Nothing.”

Lu Xiuying had the good sense to sniffle and swipe at her eyes while she bowed her head in shame, but Heng Xiaowen could only nod dumbly with a blank expression.

Song Jiayi closed her eyes and took a slow breath. “I have a question for you two,” she said. “I have to know…Just what did you think would happen when you came back? How were you planning on explaining yourselves? Did you think that I’d be pleased you caught another beast and excuse everything else?”

Heng Xiaowen hadn’t thought about it. It hadn’t occurred to him. Which seemed phenomenally stupid in hindsight.

“Well?” Song Jiayi folded her arms.

Heng Xiaowen sent Lu Xiuying a panicked look.

Lu Xiuying drew a shaky breath and bowed lower. “This unworthy disciple apologizes to Shizun,” she said in a carefully steady voice. “This disciple has acted rashly and disregarded the instruction of her master. She will submit to whatever punishment Shizun deems appropriate.”

Song Jiayi looked unimpressed. “You certainly will. Now go on, you clearly have something else you want to say.”

Lu Xiuying raised her head, revealing tearful eyes that sparkled so brightly Heng Xiaowen wondered if there was a trick to it. Then she wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck.

“Please, Shizun, let me keep Tangtao and train him as my spiritual beast! Please!”

Qiu Jucheng, who had been standing silently at Song Jiayi’s side, letting his profound aura of judgement do the scolding for him, twitched. “Tangtao?” he asked faintly.

“Tang—“ Song Jiayi pinched the bridge of her nose. “Lu Xiuying, that beast killed six people. That we know of.”

[Translation note:

tangtao means sweet peach! thats why qjc and sjy are so shocked XD

i finally got that glossary typed up!! sorry it took me foreverrrr but i finally managed to finish it over autumn vacation which was still way too busy because i went on holiday with my family but i managed to finish most of it on my flight home.]

“He’s misunderstood!” Lu Xiuying protested. “He’s just spirited! He has a gentle soul deep down.”

Good job, Lu Xiuying! Heng Xiaowen thought, You remembered my wisdom!

Song Jiayi sighed deeply, staring at Lu Xiuying clinging to Tangtao. She turned to Heng Xiaowen. “You’ve been awfully quiet. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Heng Xiaowen jolted. “I also think we should keep the horse.”

Song Jiayi dragged her hand down her face. “Anything else?”

“Oh.” Heng Xiaowen smiled nervously. “I’m sorry for sneaking off.”

Song Jiayi was at a loss. She stared despairingly at the three of them.

“I think it’s a really good opportunity, Shizun,” he said. “You know how strong Tangtao is, and if Er-Shimei can tame him, he’ll be a lot of help on future hunts. We wouldn’t have been able to catch the Soul Eating Rabbit without his help.”

Song Jiayi regarded the horse suspiciously.

Heng Xiaowen continued. “Er-Shimei is clever, and Tangtao really does like her. I think you should give her a chance to show what she’s capable of.”

Lu Xiuying blinked more sparkly, sparkly tears from her eyes. “Da-Shixiong…” she said in a trembling voice. “You really do believe in me.”

Heng Xiaowen doubled down, trying to channel the supposed fiery passion of his predecessor. “I believe in you no matter what!”

Song Jiayi held out a hand. “Okay, that’s enough.” She looked to Qiu Jucheng, and the two of them had an impenetrable conversation that consisted entirely of minute eyebrow twitches.

They seemed to reach some kind of agreement, and she turned her attention back to the guilty parties. “Lucky for you two, we need to get to the Autumn Valley as quickly as possible, so your punishments will be postponed until after the tournament. That said, you both have two shichen of Reflection Tree debt each to meditate on our first precept. If something like this happens again—” She paused, and suddenly looked very tired. “I’ll either be too relieved you survived to care or I’ll kill you myself.”

Heng Xiaowen felt a pang of guilt and hung his head again.

“Alright,” Song Jiayi said. “We’ve wasted enough time on this already. Let’s pack up and go.”

She turned and started breaking down one of the tents, Qiu Jucheng giving them one last disappointed stare before trailing after her.

Yang Jingfei and Ling Hong, who had been standing silent and wide-eyed behind Qiu Jucheng the entire time, scurried after him.

“Um,” Lu Xiuying said, fidgeting with her sleeves. “Shizun?”

“Mm?”

“About Tangtao...?” she asked.

“Train him well. If he harms anyone he shouldn’t, I’ll kill him,” she said simply.

Lu Xiuying turned to Heng Xiaowen. There were still tears on her cheeks but her pitiful expression was nowhere to be seen. “I can’t believe that worked,” she whispered.

“I told you,” he said and then yelped before he could launch into another speech about horse girls because Tangtao bit his shoulder. “That hurt!” he hissed.

Lu Xiuying patted Tangtao and smiled brightly. “He’s helping me teach you to say less ridiculous things.” She got up and dusted off her skirt. “Let’s go help break down camp, Da-Shixiong! The Autumn Valley awaits!”