Ten years ago, at Immortal Feather Peak
At the Immortal Feather Gathering, a martial arts trial fought strictly to a point had just concluded, and the attendees moved to Heavenly Crane Terrace on the side peak and took their seats. It was a circular venue ringed by a circle of raised platforms. On the floor, several celestial moths danced gracefully to elegant music, while attendants on the platforms presented fine wine and delicacies. Overhead, a number of immortal cranes beat their wings in circles. Everyone drank and enjoyed the entertainment amid great liveliness.
Those who came to the Immortal Feather Gathering fell into three categories. The first were the venerable and esteemed, who had to appear out of duty to their standing these naturally sat on the east side, such as the host, Immortal Feather Peak itself, along with two prestigious houses: Wangyue Pavilion and the Yin Family of Jiangbei. The second were those of somewhat lower status who wished to befriend famous figures; the east side was too far out of reach for them, so they squeezed and jostled their way toward the north and south sides. The last category knew their own standing was humble and only came to join the fun and broaden their horizons, minor sects and fringe schools or wandering cultivators of the jianghu who considerately seated themselves in the northwest and southwest, finding a bit of freedom and quiet there. As for the west side, over time it simply stood empty.
This spot was a little awkward. Say it had no status yet it sat directly opposite the host, making it a seat of honor of sorts. Say it was prestigious yet it sat among a crowd of every sort of hodgepodge company. Cen Yuchi, however, was not one to stand on ceremony. Seeing such a quiet, spacious spot that fit him just right, he took it, and in time it became his exclusive seat which suited him fine.
Awkward as the seat was, and awkward as the status of the person in it, Cen Yuchi himself felt no awkwardness at all. On every previous outing, Cen Yuchi had always made a grand show of it, arriving amid a vast retinue of attendants, descending from the sky in his Jade Chariot, the crimson garb of Ten-Zhang Manor dyeing the horizon red. This time, however, he had brought hardly anyone. Some troublesome matters had come up recently, and the few capable ones had all been dispatched to deal with them, leaving only three problem youths either too even-tempered or too ill-tempered, impossible to manage either way. So he had no choice but to drag these three along to share in the scolding with him.
Drinking and enjoying music, everyone loved such pleasures, and Cen Yuchi was in a fairly good mood. He picked up a piece of slightly charred pastry and took a bite.
This was no rare delicacy, still less a feast of mountain treasures and sea delicacies. It was simply mantou steamed buns cut into strips, brushed with oil, roasted over charcoal until slightly charred, then coated with sauce. One bite revealed a crisp exterior with a soft interior, the salty fragrance of pepper and salt mingling with the sweetness of the dough delicious, a special treat found only at Immortal Feather Peak, and the only dish his senior brother, who could barely tell one grain from another, knew how to make. At every Immortal Feather Gathering, Mu Linchuan delighted in showing off his skills in the kitchen, then serving the result on the most exquisite, most precious white jade plates. Yet almost the only one who would eat it was Cen Yuchi himself; this “delicacy” was clearly not very popular at the other seats.
Just then, a noisy commotion suddenly erupted from the south side, a chaotic clamor that grated on the nerves.
Cen Yuchi thought, small sects really are uncouth, clicked his tongue, and asked, “What’s going on over there?”
Among the three accompanying him was a dark-skinned youth with a neat crop of short hair tinged faintly with red. Handsome in looks, though only about sixteen or seventeen, he was remarkably tall and upright, appearing very valiant. The youth had been standing with arms crossed behind Cen Yuchi; hearing this, he rose and went over to find out what was happening.
The two others traveling with them sat on either side of Cen Yuchi. One wore a black cloak that obscured his features; only a sliver of pale white chin peeking out from beneath the hood and the occasional glimpse of slender fingertips revealed that he was a fair, thin youth.
The other was a little girl who looked to be at most ten years old, with round eyes and round cheeks, who had been quietly stuffing her face the whole time, utterly adorable. When she saw the red-haired youth walking over, she scrambled to her feet before she could even swallow the food in her mouth, calling out with slurred speech, “Mmph, I wanna go watch the fun too!”
“Eat your food!” Cen Yuchi pressed a hand on top of the girl’s head and pushed her back into her seat.
“Don’t push my head! I won’t grow tall that way!” the girl protested, covering the top of her head.
“Oh?” Cen Yuchi said. “Then maybe I should send you over to play with the Yin Family’s young nephew. Ever since that precious ginseng doll of Divine Doctor Liu got its head chopped off by him, I’ve noticed it’s been growing like crazy.”
At this, Cen Yuchi glanced over at where the Yin Family was seated. Yin Yunluo happened to be absent today something had come up at home, so he’d left early. Otherwise he would have shamelessly come sidling over again, and that would have annoyed Cen Yuchi.
“You!” The girl was about to argue back when she heard Cen Yuchi ask, “Why hasn’t that kid Lu Linfeng come back yet?”
The girl pouted. “Lu Linfeng has no sense of direction. What if he can’t find us? It’s all your fault, Young Master, for not letting me go with him!”
“Lu Linfeng has far better sense of direction than you do,” Cen Yuchi said with a laugh.
Suddenly, a louder commotion erupted from over there. The three of them turned to look at the same time then all turned their heads back together.
“What is it now?” Cen Yuchi asked.
“Looks like a fight broke out,” the cloaked youth answered softly. His voice was remarkably beautiful, several times more melodious than the singing of the immortal moths below the stage.
“Ah!” the girl cried out as if suddenly realizing something, then sprang up with a whoosh and pointed toward the noisy crowd. “Lu Linfeng got into a fight with someone!”
Lu Linfeng was that red-haired youth. Though his temper was rather explosive, he wasn’t the type to pick fights for no reason. Cen Yuchi was just wondering about this when he saw that although Lu Linfeng was skilled in combat, two fists were no match for four hands and now someone over there had already drawn their sword, the blade about to thrust toward Lu Linfeng’s face.
At the critical moment, Cen Yuchi clicked his tongue. Crimson spread across his pupils like ink bleeding through water. He tapped the table lightly with his fingertip and the sword thrusting toward Lu Linfeng froze dead in its tracks, less than an inch from his eye, then flicked upward as if struck by some far greater force. With a clang, it planted itself in the ground in front of Cen Yuchi.
Having one’s Magical Artifact controlled by another was a cardinal taboo among cultivators. Though the disturbance was small, it was enough to make everyone in the venue turn to look at Cen Yuchi.
There sat Cen Yuchi, reclining lazily in his seat, one hand propped against the side of his head, the other idly tapping the table. He was dressed in red, and the long hair hanging down beside his cheeks had been blown apart by the Sword Qi, revealing faint, thin scars, subtle, yet impossible to ignore.
His eyes were scarlet, the corners of his mouth curled slightly upward, yet his expression was utterly sinister.
“Cen Yuchi! How dare you openly use sorcery, do you even know where you are?” The cultivator whose sword had been seized felt a flicker of panic, yet was desperate to save face. As soon as he finished speaking, he channeled his energy to recall his sword but no matter what he did, the blade wouldn’t tremble so much as a hair.
Seeing his sorry state, Cen Yuchi sneered and said, “But this broken sword only obeys my dark arts, not your Immortal Arts. Since it has so little backbone, I might as well return it to you.” With that, the sword flew up, charging straight at that cultivator!
The sword’s momentum was fierce, causing an uproar. The crowd scattered, leaving the cultivator standing alone in place, unable to decide whether to dodge or not, watching his own sword fly straight at his face until he plopped down on the ground, whether from fright or forced down by the Sword Qi, no one could tell. The sword landed right there, stabbing into the ground between his legs, and with a clang, snapped in two.
The cultivator was stunned for a moment, then frozen for another, before crawling forward two steps and picking up the broken sword with trembling hands. Tears in his eyes, overcome with shame and rage, he could not stand up for a long while. The crowd that had just scattered gathered again, and several people helped the collapsed cultivator up, shouting at Cen Yuchi: “Cen Yuchi, this sword is the only thing his father left him! You broke something he treasures as if it were nothing, this is bullying far too much!”
Cen Yuchi laughed inwardly. When your skills fall short, you claim the other side used dark arts; when bullying fails, you bite back at them. People like this, he found utterly laughable.
“Never mind that this sword snapped on its own because of shoddy craftsmanship, even if I did break it, how is that bullying too much? What if he had hurt my people?” Cen Yuchi’s smile faded, his gaze turning sharp and cold.
“If that sword strike just now had cost my man a single hair, I would cut off this coward’s head. If it had cost him an eye, I would make every one of you forever cast out of the Six Paths of Reincarnation, never to see the light again, life after life!”
Just then, Lu Linfeng came walking back. He stood before Cen Yuchi and bowed his head in salute. “Young Master…”
Cen Yuchi rebuked him in a low voice, “We’ll settle this when we get back.”
But Lu Linfeng didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. He declared righteously, “They were cursing you just now!”
“I know.” Cen Yuchi frowned. “Since when is it your place to stand up for me?”
Suddenly, a crane’s cry rang out across the sky. Everyone turned to look toward the sound, only to see a figure riding the wind, arriving gracefully in flowing white robes, it was none other than the Young Peak Master of Immortal Feather Peak, Mu Linchuan.
After all, this was Immortal Feather Peak’s territory, so the crowd restrained themselves somewhat, all clamoring, “Young Peak Master Mu, come deliver justice!”
But Mu Linchuan swept right past the arguing crowd and stopped in front of Cen Yuchi, asking, “Yuchi, what’s going on?”
For some reason, the moment Cen Yuchi saw Mu Linchuan, he felt a little guilty, and even a little wronged. That overbearing posture from moments ago vanished completely. He pursed his lips and said nothing, looking like a child caught red-handed after getting into a fight outside.
The girl accompanying them was fairly quick-witted. She stood up and pointed at the crowd that had been shouting all along, declaring, “They’re the ones bullying people! They struck first and hit Lu Linfeng. Our Young Master stepped in to break it up, and they cursed him for it!”
Lu Linfeng, who had been standing there perfectly fine, was stunned at suddenly being called out. Then, seemingly noticing Mu Linchuan’s scrutinizing gaze and the girl’s frantic eye-blinking hints, he had no choice but to slowly clutch his chest, putting on an unmistakably theatrical expression of “I’m in a bit of pain here.”
Mu Linchuan nodded and bowed to the crowd: “It turns out this was a misunderstanding caused by young people competing to outdo one another. I, Mu Linchuan, hereby apologize to everyone. If anyone has suffered any losses, please report them, all will be borne by Immortal Feather Peak.”
The crowd erupted in murmurs, and someone said, “Is Young Peak Master Mu trying to shield this person?”
Mu Linchuan smiled. “Fellow Daoist, you speak too harshly. This was nothing but a misunderstanding, how could it be called shielding anyone?”
With these words, Mu Linchuan intended to smooth things over and let the matter rest. Those who heard him, even the most reluctant, would have to give Immortal Feather Peak some face. So although the crowd continued to murmur among themselves, no one dared to step forward and say anything more.
At that moment, an elderly man, surrounded by others, stepped forward and bowed to Mu Linchuan. Though Mu Linchuan found this strange, he returned the gesture respectfully.
The old man nodded, then turned slowly to address the crowd: “Young Peak Master Mu, honored guests, I am Bi Youzhong, Master of Zhan Xingtang. Allow me to say a few words of fairness.”