An Ding Peak

Their arrival sent the assorted disciples scattering like mice. Yang Qinghui caught one by the collar of their light-blue robe before they could scurry off.

"Where's your shizun?" she demanded.

The disciple squeaked and dropped all the scrolls they were carrying. Yang Qinghui abruptly realized how much killing intent she was pouring out. She cut it off and released the disciple with an apologetic laugh.

"Sorry, sorry. Could you tell me where Shang Qinghua is? I need to speak with him."

With a shaking hand, the disciple pointed towards an outbuilding at the edge of the forest.

"Thank you."

As the disciple sprinted away, abandoning their scrolls, Yang Qinghui addressed her own students:

"Guard the carriage, alright? And try to look menacing," she added with a smile.

Guoliang nodded, and crossed his muscular arms, glaring at an An Ding disciple peeking around a corner.

Leaving the carriage in good hands, Yang Qinghui strode towards the outbuilding. As she reached the door, she slowed down. She could hear muttering in the shady alley between this building and the next. She peered around the wall.

A short cultivator stood in the shadows, wringing his hands and muttering to himself.

" – never wrote this, why's this happening? Oh, what do I do, what do I do?"

"You there," Yang Qinghui said, stepping into the alley and dropping a hand onto the cultivator's shoulder.

He spun around with a terrified squeak, then turned pale. His brown hair was done up in a slightly-mussed bun with a guan. His blue robes were dishevelled but ornate, fancier than a disciple or regular cultivator would normally wear.

Oh. Yang Qinghui wrinkled her nose. It's him.

Shang Qinghua

An Ding Peak Lord

He looks a bit like a mouse, Yang Qinghui thought. Tiny, and… skittery.

"C-can I help you, Peak Lord Yang?" Shang Qinghui asked, his eyes darting around for an escape route.

Yang Qinghui narrowed her eyes. "You were avoiding me at the banquet," she accused. "You've got a lot to answer for, you sneaky, devious, cultivator-stealing – !"

"Cultivator-stealing?" Shang Qinghua repeated indignantly, glaring up at Yang Qinghui. "I won't be accused of – "

"So you didn't lure them all away?"

"… In my defense, most of them approached me first. They're the ones you should be blaming."

"I blame all of you." Yang Qinghui's glare softened. "But that banquet was supposed to be an important martial-family bonding event, and I didn't even see you!"

Shang Qinghua searches her expression. Then he sighs and drops his eyes. "No, you're right. We haven't seen each other in years, and I avoided you. I was just worried – "

"What? That I'd punch your lights out?"

"Heh. Yeah, pretty much."

"Ah, I forgive you." Smirking, Yang Qinghui punches Shang Qinghua's shoulder. "We're martial siblings, and this isn't enough to hold a grudge over."

"Really?" Shang Qinghua frowned, rubbing his shoulder. "What about that incident twenty years ago?"

Yang Qinghui tilted her head. "What incident?"

"You know." Shang Qinghua looked at her meaningfully.

"I really don't."

Sighing, Shang Qinghua gritted out, "With our icy mutual friend?"

"Icy?" Yang Qinghui started to shake her head, still confused. That was when the flashback hit.

Thick-stumped trees shook and dropped leaves as Yang Qinghui collided into them. She was no match against this enemy.

Stumbling to her feet, she wiped the blood from her nose. That skittish martial-brother of hers was around here somewhere, hiding in the trees. But she couldn't spare a glance away from her opponent.

He stood there, watching her icily with blue eyes that matched the demonic mark on his forehead. Raising his ice-sword, he leveled it at Yang Qinghui, challenging her.

With a scream of rage, she charged.

Yang Qinghui snapped out of the flashback, heart pounding. Was that THE fucking MOBEI-JUN?! Oh my – how the hell did I not DIE?!

"Uh… Are you alright?" Shang Qinghua asked, keeping an arm's length away and watching her warily.

"Yeah, yeah." Yang Qinghui cleared her throat. "Just a migraine."

"Okaaay." Shang Qinghua raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Did you need anything else?"

Yang Qinghui was too distracted to reply, her thoughts spinning. So I fought Mobei-Jun twenty years ago? Shang Qinghua was there. And apparently I should be angry with him about something? Probably for not helping out.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Frowning in concern, Shang Qinghua gave a hesitant double thumbs-up.

Reflexively, Yang Qinghui returned the thumbs-up. "I'm fine, man. I've gotta get back, anyway. See you around."

"Bye."

Yang Qinghui turned around.

Waaaait a second. Thumbs-up?

"Hang on!" Shang Qinghua suddenly exclaimed. "Did you – ? Are you – ?"

Yang Qinghui spun around, jaw dropping. "You're from the other world, too?!"

Shang Qinghua grabbed Yang Qinghui's arms, eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. "No way! Wh- When did you get here?!"

"Just a couple months ago!"

"Oh, I've been here for years!"

"Really?! Ah, jeez. Are you doing okay?"

Shang Qinghua chuckled. "Well, I'm better now."

"Yeah, I was relieved to meet another transmigrator," Yang Qinghui agrees.

"There's another?"

"Yeah! Wait, hang on: what was your username? Maybe we've met before."

"Oh. Uh…" Shang Qinghua rubbed the back of his neck. "I never commented or anything, just read the chapters."

"Ah, I get it. There was always lots of fighting in the comments." Yang Qinghui grinned. "I was 'Banana Fritter Breakfast'."

"O-oh. I remember you. And Peerless Cucumber." Shang Qinghua paled. "They're not… the other one, are they?"

"He is, actually!" Yang Qinghui reported happily. "As the villainous Shen Qingqiu."

Now Shang Qinghua looked near-fainting. "I see. How wonderful."

"He's in the Lingxi Caves now, but he should be out in a month, maybe. Then we can have a transmigrator party."

"Sounds fun," Shang Qinghua agreed with a tense smile.

They left the alleyway together, and a disciple hurried up to Shang Qinghua, carrying a scroll.

"I have to deal with this," Shang Qinghua said apologetically. "Thank you for visiting, Yang-shimei."

"See you around!" Yang Qinghui called as the other transmigrator hurried away.

She returned to her carriage, where Mingli, Zongyin, and Guoliang were still waiting. They bowed as she approached.

"Was your visit successful, shizun?" Zongyin asked.

"More so than I expected," Yang Qinghui said with a smile. "Let's head back to Zui Xian Peak, shall we?"

A couple hours passed as they travelled, Yang Qinghui in the carriage and her three disciples riding their horses alongside. Yang Qinghui made a mental note to get horse-riding lessons soon. As she played another game of System solitaire, she suddenly realized something.

"Ah, damn it!" she exclaimed in annoyance. "I should've asked him what happened with Mobei-Jun!"

"Shizun?" Zongyin called from outside. "Are you alright?"

Yang Qinghui pulled aside the curtain. "Sorry, Zongyin. Just realized something. By the way, do you want an hour to prepare for your test once we get back?"

"That would be great. Thank you, shizun."

"No problem." She smiled encouragingly. "I'm sure you'll do wonderfully."