Chapter Text
He isn't sure how he stumbled into this, one too many smart comments, he supposes.
He had been down in the town to fetch supplies for his Shizun, primarily alcohol. When he passed the sect gates on his way back, the crowd of, frankly, underfed and dirty children had drawn his attention. Why were they— oh yes, selection. They had all come to try and find a new way of living, a better way.
As he stood there, he watched two robberies occur and one physical fight break out.
This was only the start of it, the merchant class had yet to arrive, not to mention any nobility.
Why was there no one…. watching this? Or maybe distributing food, they used to do that back in his world for important exams. Ensuring everyone entered on equal footing and full stomachs. Even when he thought back to his own selection he could barely recall the journey due to the exhaustion and hunger that had occupied his mind.
The whole point of digging in the earth was to assess the children's spiritual roots, how were they to assess them if they passed out from hunger or exhaustion or both on the journey up the mountain?
Oh, he was well aware that the steps were another test, but a test of physical endurance is in no way equal when one participant is starving and the other was driven to the starting line in a carriage to ensure they arrived fully rested.
(It was the inequality of it that niggled him; the suffering of the children barely registered if he was being honest, not that he often was. They're not real.)
When he brought this up to his teacher in a moment of insanity, the man looked at him blearily for a few moments before deciding, "You fix it then."
NO, not what he was aiming for, Shizun. Have pity on this poor disciple, he was already doing half of the peak's work. He was taught inedia for the sole purpose of doing more work.
He didn't say any of this, instead bowing and loudly proclaiming his gratefulness until his teacher shooed him away with a pained grimace.
He had fully intended to forget the entire interaction if not rumour he heard from Wu-Shimei
“Shizun got in an argument with the sect leader. He claimed that one of his disciples could do a better job at organising the selection than Zhangmen-shibo. He even said one had even given suggestions and that the sect leader was too arrogant to listen”
What.
Shang Bo’s dread only grew when the notice arrived the next year.
Head Disciple Shang, you have been assigned to care for the potential disciples due to your request during the last selection cycle.
And below, in his Shizun's flowing script:
You're not getting out of this one, think of it as a punishment for the warehouse disaster last month.
As he will loudly tell anyone who listens, the warehouse disaster was not his fault. How was he to know they had been using asbestos as insulation?
———————————
The first year was… rough, to say the least. All of the brats thought he was there to asses them, and so he received an interesting mix of displays of prowess and outright bullying.
But, every evening he coordinated the distribution of meals, even if some of the children were suspicious at first.
“Cmon kid, it’s soup,” he pleaded. “I wouldn’t waste good soup trying to poison you.”
“Sure…”
The little girl couldn’t look more dubious if she tried, eyeing the soup and in turn Shang Bo, as if it were a deadly snake.
“Everyone else is eating it!” He wanted to bang his head against the nearest wall.
“They’re just stupid then”
This child- she was going to be the end of him. If only her wrists weren’t so skinny, he could leave in peace then.
He tried to bargain. “Look, look, I’ll take a sip so you know it’s safe”
“Mhmmm, what if you’re resistant to the poison”
Poison-
“I will literally give you money to take this soup”
He had never seen a child brighten so quickly.
“Deal!” She chirped, snatching the bowl from his outstretched hands. “Pay up”
He’s ashamed to admit he did.
During the day he chose to stay standing beside the gate, subtly leaning against it when tired. The awe with which he was viewed with as a cultivator always surprised him. But obviously the average person wouldn’t know the difference between an An Ding disciple and one from Bai Zhan, they were all from the same sect after all.
As a result of this, every time a fight began to break out he merely had to shift in place, sword shining softly in the sun, before it would resolve itself. The lack of knowledge about his martial prowess allowing the kids’ imaginations to run wild.
Eventually, the disciple hopefuls allowed themselves to rest. Trusting that he would bring food once a day, and patrol around them at night. They were by far the most well-behaved group he had ever seen for the selection.
The only other problem was when the merchants and nobility began to show up.
“Excuse me honoured cultivator”
The voice pulled him out of his daydreaming about air conditioning. Looking towards the sound he was met with a clearly upperclass merchant. Not knowing what the woman wanted, he simply stared at her. The silence stretch for a second before she began to speak again.
“-Aha, This one is delighted to make your honoured acquaintance.” She was getting nervous now. “This one wanted to introduce her son”
The gangly pre-teen standing next to her looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here but had his mother’s prompting he bowed and handed over a small pouch. Once that was done the two of them stared expectantly at him.
For the record, he was very confused.
Moving slowly he opened the pouch-money, it was money. He looked up at the mother and son and then back towards the pouch. This was a bribe. Can he accept bribes? Ethically no. But… his pockets had been feeling empty lately. He has no power over the selection anyways, there is no abuse of power to be seen here.
He tucked away the money into his robes and gave a singular nod.
Relief bloomed across the mother’s face. She bowed low before grabbing her son’s shoulders and frogmarching him away. It was clear she had only been attempting to look after her child in the best way she could think of.
Should he feel bad?
Nah.
It would be a good life lesson.
As the selection date neared, people began to get increasingly desperate. Some nobility especially attempted to shoo away the orphans and commoners, believing that their offspring deserved a closer space to the gate.
Yes, of course, how could he forget, obviously a metre head start would surely guarantee your lazy son with no spiritual roots a place within the sect. It all makes sense.
Idiots.
However, his rag-tag group of kids was not about to sacrifice their hard-earned places, it nearly came to a physical fight. Again. Gods, do these kids know how to do anything else?
They don't, because every moment of their life is a struggle, because you ensured every moment of their life would be a struggle.
He ignored the nobles’ whining and simply loomed whenever a fight was actually about to occur. God, he could get used to this. It's rather fun.
Is this how Liu Qingge will feel in the future?
———————————
"Well… that was actually a success." His teacher raised an eyebrow at him. "The sect leader sends his begrudging thanks as well as forwarded compliments from the residents of the town. Apparently quite a bit of the usual trouble was prevented."
Suck it, world, here comes Shang Qinghua, wonderful ideas for days.
Looking up at his teacher he shivered at the smirk that seemed to have made its way to the man's face. Dread began to rise in his throat.
"They want you to do it again next year. I'll give my permission then, since you seemed to be so good at it. Well done disciple of mine, this is the funniest thing I’ve seen in a decade"
Bastard. This was going to become a thing, wasn't it.
———————————
Become a thing it did.
After several more years of successful watching, he was finally called before the assembled Peak Lords.
He knelt in proper deference and remained there for hours as they argued about propriety.
“We cannot have an An Ding disciple representing the entire sect!”
Ouch Wei-Shibo, let it all out.
“How dare you- I- what is your peak even doing to contribute to the sect beside causing property damage”
His Shizun was nearly speechless with rage, a common occurrence when the man was forced to interact with the Bai Zhan peak lord.
Round and round and round they went, everyone agreeing they didn’t want him to do the job but not managing to agree on an actual replacement either.
The Sect Leader huffs. “Stop it all of you, my head is about to explode. Clearly this was something we have needed for a long while. Let us thank Shang-Shidi for his ideas and time. We can continue to work on it over the years, this is just a start.”
The 'Sentry of the Gate' was now a proper position and promptly ‘temporarily’ assigned to him.
Their first attempt at a replacement was a Bai Zhan disciple, clearly thinking that physical intimidation was the key. Unfortunately the disciple often forgot to feed the kids and they attempted a coup, before making him cry.
There was no head disciple on Qiong Ding Peak currently, and the Qing Jing Peak Lord laughed herself silly when asked if she would sacrifice one of her precious disciples for 'babysitting,' as she called it. Even the sect leader himself got non-comical when asked which one of his disciples he wanted to send down. They clearly saw it as a job for the lower peaks but didn’t want to say it out loud for fear of swift retaliation from their martial siblings.
“Congratulation Disciple Shang, in recognition of your exemplary work in the recent years we have decided to grant you the position on a more permanent basis as a reward.”
Yeah right. You can’t pull the wool over this overworked disciples eyes.
Unfortunately this did spark another argument about his robes. Apparently it could persuade the children to go to An Ding over another peak if a figure in the customary yellow robes was the one supplying them with food.
The solution ?
They had crafted him armour on Wan Jian Peak.
"To prevent bias and protect you," they claimed.
Against children? No. The layers of sect politics were about to choke him, and as well as that they were being dramatic bastards again. The armour was decorated with elaborate symbols and images that referenced the sect and the gates itself. He looked like the hero from a storybook or an artefact from a forgotten era. They even went as far as to give him mask to wear across his face.
When he first caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror he nearly burst out laughing. He looked ready to lead an army into battle, not watch a group of kids for two weeks.
That's how he found himself here, staring at the gaunt face of a young Yue Qingyuan, or rather Qi-ge as he was known in this moment. Lucky number seven, and brother to Xiao-Jiu.
It was the first day of his vigil, and this boy was the first one to arrive, an impressive feat really.
When the boy moved closer he felt irrational urge to take a step back.
"Pardon me, Honoured Cultivator."
The starvation in his frame was obvious, enhanced by the lack of proper clothing the boy wore.
No, please go away. This Shang Bo cannot be of help to you, he cannot be of help to anyone.
He glanced warily around for the system but there seemed to be no sign of it yet.
"If you will excuse my rudeness, I just wanted to know if you are here the famed guard for the selection of Cang Qiong.
Clearly the surrounding merchants had been reluctant to answer the questions of a street rat.
Heart hammering in his chest, he gave the boy a simple nod.
Yue Qi seemed to sag in relief. "A thousand thank yous, and in how many weeks is the selection?"
The boy's way of speaking was carefully precise but clunky in a way that showed he was parroting it from someone else, copying one of the many formal conversations he had been forced to listen to during his time as a slave.
This tiny child had been a slave
Shang Bo nodded once more, silently holding up two fingers. He seldom spoke during this job but on the spot he decided that the sentry of Cang Qiong would not speak to the future sect leader, ever. Let the boy assume he had made a vow of silence. Very official, Very secretive, he would assure the man in the future.
That night, the young boy was still the only one present at the gate. Yue Qi might be the only one present for a couple of days if he was being honest with himself, the selection was not for two weeks.
Now… he had to bring Yue Qi food. Yue Qi, future sect leader, escaped slave. He had to bring the boy food and probably hang around to ensure he didn't choke on it in his hunger. What was that thing he had read about in his own world, couldn't people get terribly sick if they ate a bunch of food after a period of starvation?
Oh God, was he about to kill the future sect leader?
The boy had taken refuge in a nearby alley, startling awake when he saw Shang Bo approaching.
He had to be gentle.
Take it easy, pretend he's one of your feral cats.
Bending slowly at his knees he set the meal in front of Yue Qi softly, laying the utensils beside it. It was a bit of bread and some broth, hopefully easily digested.
Nodding once, he sharply turned and went back to his 'post’, praying Yue Qi wasn't looking at him. This would be a terrible time to trip over something.
———————————
Qi couldn't believe his luck. The mysterious cultivator had left him a bowl of the most delicious thing he had ever tasted and a bread roll he could store for later. Maybe this was a good sign, perhaps everything would work out as intended. All for the sake of going back for Xiao-jiu. Nothing was more important.
Looking up once again at the cultivator, they had reclaimed their spot by the edge of the gate, the setting sun gleaming off their armour. The only distinguishable feature about them was their eyes. A deep burning gold, everything else had been covered.
He was dying with questions to ask, and even if they were reluctant to speak, he needed to get answers. He would start slowly, just one or two a day. He cannot afford to anger them. Xiao-jiu's life could rely on this.
———————————
The night passed and he attempted to meditate. These two weeks might be the chance he finally needed to actually focus on his cultivation, instead of running behind his Shizun or running away from his work.
System.
"Yes, Host," it chirped, a bright screen appearing before him.
"Why are you not stopping this from happening?"
"Yue Qi isn't aware he is interacting with the host, and even if he was it would not change the canon story. His fate is still to fall to Luo Binghe."
Lovely. Great to know.
"Anytime, let me know if I can help you with anything else (^ω^)"
It faded from view again; must be the power saving mode it always seems to be in. The main source of its power, the protagonist, had yet to arrive, it probably didn't have the power to interfere with the prologue too much.
He opened his eyes.
Fuck.
Yue Qi was right in front of him.
He slowly bent his head to meet the boy's eyes. They stared at each other for a few moments. C'mon, kid, I don't have all day. Well, he did, but the quicker this interaction went, the quicker he could go back to forgetting about how prominent Yue Qi's cheekbones were.
"Good morning, Zunzhe"
Yeesh, kid, laying it on a bit thick there. Zunzhe, hah, an honoured cultivator of great power or wisdom he was not. He gave his now signature nod in response. He was getting quite good at that.
"This lowly one has more questions, if you could allow this one to ask them."
Sure, what harm could it do? Another nod.
"Are you allowed to speak?"
There, the formal speech coming and going depending on how excited the kid was. It was kind of cute, if he was being honest. They'll train it out of him on Qiong Ding.
He shook his head.
Sorry, kid, no use asking this poor disciple for information; go bother someone else.
"I see, I see,” the boy suddenly became nervous. “This one is thankful for the honoured cultivator’s time,” and with that Yue Qi once again scurried off to his little resting spot.
———————————
He's back.
This time Yue Qi was trying to suss out the order of the peaks, and what their names were. Unfortunately only so much information can be conveyed in a nod, and Yue Qi seemed to have overestimated his mind-reading skills.
"Okay, nod if I'm correct, Qing Jing is the fifth peak of the sect."
Forgive him for his sins, Shibo, he did not mean to besmirch the name of Qing Jing. His Martial Aunt would come for his head if she knew he had allowed this misunderstanding to go on.
He looked to the left, and to the right, before dropping down to Yue Qi's level. The boy jerked back, apologies already spilling from his lips before he noticed what Shang Bo was doing. Drawing a map of the peaks, in order, with their names written beside them. Yue Qi was lucky there was a prime spot of dirt right next to the gate, these drawings were some of his best work.
The boy gasped in delight, studying the drawing intently. "This is perfect, I can ask you so many more questions."
Little shit.
(He would forever deny that he meant that in a fond way.)
———————————
That's how their days progressed, questions in the morning (and the afternoon as the volume of questions increased), and then a quiet dinner in the evening. Yue Qi had taken to sitting by his side while quietly eating dinner. Using him as a human shield, perhaps.
No one would accuse an orphan of stealing food if he ate it beside the Sentry of Cang Qiong.
They slowly muddled their way through the hierarchy of the peaks, the names of the peak lords, some small bits of geography for the surrounding towns.
This one knows what you're doing, Yue Qi.
The boy was clearly already planning a rescue route for Shen Jiu, but he allowed it anyway. He even helped Yue Qi find the characters for his name.
岳 Yuè - a surname meaning "Mountain Peak"
七 Qī - meaning "Seven"
At that he felt another stab of guilt, the boy obviously didn't have a surname until he plucked one out of the air at Shang Bo's questioning head tilt. Thankfully, the meals were doing the escaped slave good, and he had slowly been increasing the quantity and richness of the food.
Yue Qi's goal for today had been to try to find out just exactly what the selection trial was, and he had been having buckets of fun just pointing towards the ground. Let the future sect leader look back and cringe at his terrible hints.
Then another person arrived, and another, and another. Today marked five days until the official selection and it seemed as though the floodgates had opened. He was pretty sure he had spotted one or two out of the corner of his eye in the days previous, but they had finally mustered their courage and come to wait in front of the gate.
Shit, he couldn't be caught showing favouritism, the merchants would throw a fit. Especially after the amount of bribes he took last year and then did nothing about. They paid for his yearly supply of melon seeds.
At the sight of the first new child, he rose to his feet without warning and went back to his post at the gate. He cut Yue Qi off mid-sentence as he mused about the spiritually revealing qualities of a mud bath, his newest attempt at deciphering Shang Bo's hints.
Yue Qi watched him in confusion at first and, going by his eyes, no little hurt when met with his sudden coldness. But after watching him rebuff another child's attempts at asking questions, he seemed to come to a conclusion.
Either way the boy ends up sitting next to him as he guards the gates. Only moving to relieve himself or stretch his legs before returning right back to the cultivator's side.
———————————
The day of the selection arrived and with it an electric atmosphere. The town seemed to come alive, with many stalls set up to cater to the visiting parents and a rather large number of street food vendors to feed the crowd of around 400 hopeful children and their relatives.
Yue Qi was a bundle of nerves next to him, practically vibrating from the anxiety and anticipation.
Chill out, little bro, the next sect leader can't be foiled by nerves.
The crowd goes silent at the sight of a Qiong Ding Hallmaster descending on his sword, here to unlock the gates and officially start the selection trial.
He knew what to do. The sect leader has made them practice, several times.
Five sharp paces to the left, meet the Hallmaster in the middle. The Hallmaster would unlock the gate, doing some very fancy and complex seal work, he's sure, and then Shang Bo would grab the left gate and the Hallmaster would grab the right. Opening in sync. They both grabbed the same one a few years ago, embarrassing to say the least.
(Not for him obviously, he won that little tug of war.)
They slowly opened the gates, both raising their swords pointed towards the middle as a sign the wards were still active. Then once he reached his original spot, the ward came fully down and they lowered their swords. The crowd seemed frozen, waiting for a sign that they were allowed to proceed, and so when the Sentry beckoned it was as if a spell broke. A wave of children sprinting towards the steps. There were always quite a few that got literally trampled at this stage.
His hand flashed out and grabbed Yue Qi by the shoulder, stopping him from joining the initial wave.
The boy stared at the hand in shock and then up at him, eyes wide in betrayal. He merely held up a finger, hoping the boy understood his meaning to wait, just for a second. The crowd had thinned slightly, the initial stampede at the steps finishing. He lowered his finger and gently pushed Yue Qi through the gate. Turning back towards his post. It was in the young boy's hands now, or perhaps it wasn't. This was all a part of the plot anyway, perhaps Yue Qi was always destined to succeed and his actions had been for nothing.
He was to wait at the gate with the Hallmaster for two shichens before stepping through and closing it behind them.
Good luck, Yue Qi.
Goodbye, Yue Qi,