Zui Xian Peak

It's not like there was much waiting for her back home. A deteriorating apartment, bills upon bills, and a mother and father who never saw her as anything but their son.

She may be a drunkard here, but that was nothing that couldn't be fixed.

Yang Qinghui pulled on some plain white boots and left the room, taking her best guess to get outside. The building was magnificent, with carved wooden doorways here and there, detailed paintings of scenery and heroic figures hung on the walls, and vases of colourful flowers on every available flat surface.

Alongside a constant background bustle as people went about their daily business was the sweet smell of rice wine, which permeated everything.

She passed a few servants on her way outside, all of whom bowed and murmured a polite greeting. At first she nodded back, but the System warned her loudly, "OOC! OOC!", so, against every fibre in her being, she ignored them.

Finally she reached a door that lead outside. Sighing contentedly, Yang Qinghui stepped outside onto a stone path. For a moment she was blinded by the sunlight. Then her vision cleared and her breath caught in her throat.

In front of her lay a series of massive, terraced rice patties, resplendent in their green growth and soft wave shape. They trailed down the hillsides into a wide valley dotted with figures: farmers hard at work, baskets of rice balanced on their hips, conical hats shading their faces from the sun.

"What a beautiful view…" Yang Qinghui couldn't help but whisper.

"Ayi!" Gongyi Xiao ran up to her, grinning from ear to ear. "What took you so long? This place is so beautiful – I can't believe I waited this long to visit!"

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" Yang Qinghui murmured. She smiled down at her nephew.

"OOC! OOC!"

"Shizun," someone called. Zhuang Hao approached from around the corner, frowning. "Are you sure you should be up, shizun?"

"Stop overreacting, Hao'er," Yang Qinghui scolded him. "I'm fine!"

Zhuang Hao set his jaw, but didn't argue further. He bowed to Gongyi Xiao. "Huan Hua Palace's order is packed up. I have left it with your fellow disciples."

Gongyi Xiao bowed as well. "My thanks."

"Hao'er, why don't you join us?" Yang Qinghui suggested. "I was going to give Xiao'er a tour of the Peak. You can help," she added, trying to avoid an OOC warning.

Zhuang Hao hesitated, but agreed. They walked closer to the rice terraces, as Zhuang Hao explained their alcohol production work to Gongyi Xiao. Yang Qinghui listened closely as well.

"The rice from these terraces is used to make rice wine – you can see the buildings where we ferment it down there in the bottom of the valley." Zhuang Hao indicated a flat field of orange-brown crops that lay to the right of the terraced valley and added, "We also grow sorghum for several varieties of baijiu."

"What about lychee wine and goji wine?" Gongyi Xiao asked curiously.

"We import those from civilian farmers in nearby villages," Zhuang Hao explained.

Zui Xian Peak truly was breathtaking. It was a green, hill-covered peak, with the main residence in the middle, farmland on one side and an expanse of forest on the other.

A while later, they reached the entrance, a circular stone platform ringed by tall, stone pillars carved with plants. A few golden-clad disciples were lounging around a cart laden with jars of rice wine securely tied with rope. As soon as the disciples caught sight of Yan Qinghui, Gongyi Xiao, and Zhuang Hao, they leapt to their feet.

"Well, I need to get back to Huan Hua Palace," Gongyi Xiao sighed. "Thank you so much for giving me a tour, ayi. Farewell, Zhuang-xiong."

He bowed to each of them in turn with a warm smile, and walked to his fellow disciples.

Yang Qinghui watched the disciples leave down the ramp of the platform, then addressed Zhuang Hao:

"I'm going to train in the forest. See that no one disturbs me."

A little surprised, Zhuang Hao bowed and promised to take care of it.

Yang Qinghui made her way to the forest and found a clearing, quiet but for the birdsong and gentle breeze.

"System? Where's my sword?"

The System's screen appeared in front of her, showing a list of skills, most of which were locked.

"Ooh, it's like an RPG." Yang Qinghui scrolled through the list until she found a sword, titled:

Sui Gu

"'Broken bones', huh?"

She tapped on the icon, and a sword materialized in the palm of her hand. It was giant, reaching from the ground to above her hip.

She nearly dropped it, but recovered, and marveled at its beauty. The blade was wide, the edges were deadly sharp, and the guard was simple, but the hilt was shaped like an orchid.

Adjusting her grip, Yang Qinghui swung the sword in a wide arc in front of her. Deep gashes immediately appeared in the tree bark, and a flock of birds took off, chirping loudly in indignation.

"Ha-ha! That was incredible!" Yang Qinghui shouted, swinging Sui Gu again.

She'd read enough xianxia webnovels to have some idea of the theory of swordfighting, so now all she had to do was practice. Luckily, it seemed as though the original Yang Qinghui's muscle memory had stuck with her.

---

Hours later, the sun began to set, and Yang Qinghui, exhausted both mentally and physically, walked back to the main building. A servant showed her to the baths, and she stayed in the delightfully refreshing water until her fingers crinkled up like prunes.

She followed her nose to the kitchen and asked the cooks if there was any food ready. Immediately, she was shown to the high-ceilinged grand hall, where a few disciples – who all leapt to their feet to bow to her – were sitting around low tables, chatting and eating.

Yang Qinghui sat at a table on a raised platform at the back of the room, clearly reserved for the Peak Lord. A few minutes later, several meat and vegetable dishes, along with a jar of wine – naturally – were brought to her, and she happily dug in.

The disciples stopped speaking after she arrived, and quickly shoveled down their food before leaving, with another bow.

I guess I'm not popular with the disciples. Yang Qinghui rested her chin on her hand. She swirled the cup of wine in her hand and sighed. How lonely.

"Hey, System. Is there any way to disable the OOC function?" she asked.

"If you complete the beginner mission successfully, the OOC function will be unlocked."

"How do I get a beginner mission?"

"Please be patient."

Yang Qinghui sighed. "Fine."

She drank the rest of her wine and found her way back to her rooms, where she flopped onto the bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

---

The next morning, she walked to the front platform and found Zhuang Hao speaking with a few disciples, giving them tasks for the day.

The sun was still low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the platform's stone pillars. A light breeze passed through, ruffling everyone's hair and robes. One of the disciples stifled a yawn behind his hand.

"Does everyone know what they're doing?" Zhuang Hao asked.

"Yes, Zhuang-shixiong!" the disciples shouted in unison.

Yang Qinghui watched quietly, her hands clasped behind her back. He really is responsible and efficient. Thankfully – I'd have no idea what to do.  

Her attention was abruptly drawn to a young cultivator who raced up the platform steps, dressed in white and silver. An air of urgency surrounded him.

His eyes landed on Yang Qinghui, and he hurried towards her.

"Peak Lord Yang," he greeted her, bowing hastily. "I am Meng Ping from Qiong Ding Peak. My shizun, Yue Qingyuan, requests your presence immediately."