Dynamic Duo!

At high noon, Yue Qingyuan arrived at the edge of Bai Zhan forest in a whirl of white-and-black robes. Two cultivators from Qian Cao Peak hurried after him, carrying bags of medicine and bandages.

A half-dozen disciples stood guard at the trees, anxiously awaiting their master's return.

"Sect Master!" a few of them called, some of the terror leaving them at the sight of the powerful cultivator.

"I came as quickly as I could," Yue Qingyuan said, his expression somber. "What news is there?"

"It's been three hours since our shizun went into the forest," one of the disciples replied, clutching his sword in a white-knuckled hand. "We've heard the bashe roaring and trees breaking, but… everything quieted down about half an hour ago."

Yue Qingyuan frowned deeply, troubled. "If both Liu-shidi and Yang-shimei couldn't defeat it…" He addressed the most senior disciple: "Summon all the Peak Lords to Qiong Ding Peak. This matter – "

"SHIZUN!" a disciple shouted, relief cracking his voice.

Everyone's heads snapped to look at the edge of the forest. Two cultivators stumbled out of the trees, supporting each other's weight. Twigs and leaves clung to their torn robes, and blood was smeared over their faces and hands, but they were alive.

"Who wants snake soup for dinner?!" Yang Qinghui called, throwing an arm in the air.

The Bai Zhan disciples sprinted across the grass and nearly tackled their shizun to the ground. Yang Qinghui stepped aside with a laugh.

"Shizun!" they cried, tears streaming down their faces. "You're alive!"

"Of course I'm alive," Liu Qingge said gruffly. "Did you really think some overgrown worm could kill me?" But he let his disciples hug him and sob into his robes.

---

Yang Qinghui watched Liu Qingge's disciples fawn over him, amused.

I wish my own disciples were here, she thought, a little sadly.

It had taken time, but together she and Liu Qingge had managed to wear down the bashe, and Yang Qinghui had dealt the killing blow. For a while, they'd both been too exhausted to move, and had just laid on the forest floor, laughing giddily at having survived.

Maybe Liu-shidi will be my first friend here, Yang Qinghui had thought.

On the way out of the forest, Liu Qingge had given her an earful for stealing his kill.

Yep, she'd thought, laughing at Liu Qingge's indignation, my first friend.

"Shimei." Yue Qingyuan walked up to Yang Qinghui with a smile. "I'm relieved the mission was a success. Well done."

The System's screen appeared in front of Yang Qinghui, startling her.

"Beginner quest completed. 200 B-points obtained. OOC function unlocked."

Oh, fuck yeah! Yang Qinghui celebrated internally.

"The bashe is dead, I assume?" Yue Qingyuan asked.

"Obviously," Yang Qinghui said triumphantly. "Liu-shidi and I are a 'dynamic duo'!"

Yue Qingyuan stared at her blankly. "'…Dynamic… duo'?"

Ah, shit – that was English.

"Ah, uh, what I mean to say…" Yang Qinghui rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, "is that Liu-shidi and I make a great team. We're pretty much undefeatable. Isn't that right, shidi?"

"That's 'shixiong' to you," Liu Qingge corrected, affronted. He dragged himself over, one of his younger disciples refusing to let go of his leg.

"Huh? Don't I outrank you?"

Liu Qingge scoffed. "Please. Zui Xian Peak is ranked ninth. Bai Zhan is sixth, shimei."

A chorus of cheers went up from the Bai Zhan disciples.

"…Alright, maybe so," Yang Qinghui admitted, "but I'm older than you. Three years older, which is equal to how far your Peak outranks mine. So shouldn't that make us equal?" She was half-teasing, but it still annoyed her to have to call Liu Qingge 'shixiong.'

Liu Qingge stared at her incredulously. "How does that make any sense?!"

"I propose a challenge!" Yang Qinghui declared, planting her hands on her hips. "If I win, I get to call you shidi, and you have to call me…" she leaned forward, grinning obnoxiously – "'shifu'."

Liu Qingge flushed angrily. "That's stupid."

"Oh? What's this?" Yang Qinghui raised her voice, catching the ears of the Bai Zhan disciples. "The great War God of Bai Zhan is backing down from a challenge?"

"Shut up!" Liu Qingge hissed. "I never said I was backing down."

"So you accept?"

Liu Qingge hesitated. The disciple glued to his leg stared up at him with wide eyes, and Liu Qingge sighed in resignation.

"Fine. But if I win, you have to call me 'Lao Liu'."

Yang Qinghui wrinkled her nose. "There's nothing venerable about you."

"Do you agree to the terms?" Liu Qingge asked, raising his chin.

Yang Qinghui narrowed her eyes. Liu Qingge didn't blink. The Bai Zhan disciple and Yue Qingyuan held their breath.

"I accept," Yang Qinghui said, holding out her hand.

Liu Qingge shook it. "As do I. What is the challenge?"

"Poetry competition."

"…What?"

---

Yang Qinghui would have rhymed Liu Qingge into oblivion right then and there, but Yue Qingyuan insisted that she and Liu Qingge receive proper medical treatment before their competition.

"Please, treat them," he told the Qian Cao cultivators.

"Yes, shibo."

Yue Qingyuan gently guided Yang Qinghui to sit on a mossy rock in the shade. She waved him off, annoyed.

"I'm not breakable," she muttered, "you don't have to… treat me like…"

One of the Qian Cao cultivators appears in front of her and she trailed off, staring.

The cultivator was beautiful. Her silky black hair was tucked neatly into a braided bun, secured with a gold-and-jade pin. The light green and pale gold robes of Qian Cao Peak were perfect complements to her complexion and black eyes.

Zhu Huangu

Cultivator of Qian Cao Peak

Cousin of Mu Qingfang

Whoa… Yang Qinghui was struck speechless.

Zhu Huangu looked down her nose at Yang Qinghui, one hand planted on her hip.

"You went to fight a bashe without any kind of armour?" she sneered, crouching and plunking her medicine bag on the ground. "I thought Peak Lords were supposed to be smart."

Yang Qinghui stared at her, still struck speechless, but now in a very different way. She must have heard about my reputation. Yang Qinghui winced. I've really got to fix that.

Zhu Huangu roughly pulled open her bag and rifled through it, removing three bottles and a roll of bandages. She lifted one clear vial, inspecting it in the sunlight, and added, "So far, it seems as though my cousin's the brightest of all of you."

Finally, Yang Qinghui found her voice. "Who, Mu Qingfang? I doubt that."

Zhu Huangu raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then who is?"

Yang Qinghui thought about it. Well, I haven't met all of them yet. How can I say for sure? She smirked at Zhu Huangu. "Me, of course."

Zhu Huangu snorted – actually snorted – and took Yang Qinghui's arm. All thoughts were driven out of Yang Qinghui's mind as the medic applied a grass-smelling salve to the bruises on her arm. Her hands were calloused, and her nails were cut short, but held surprising gentleness, opposite to her brash attitude.

Over at another rock, Liu Qingge stood up, rolling his shoulder gingerly in its sling. He walked over to Yang Qinghui and paused.

"I won't back out of your challenge," he said, lifting his chin proudly.

"Good." Yang Qinghui leans back on one arm, smiling lazily. "In two days, we'll meet at Zui Xian Peak. Bring your friends."

"Don't expect to win so easily, Xiao Qinghui."

"We'll see, shidi." Yang Qinghui stuck her tongue out at him.

Liu Qingge scoffed and marched away.

Yang Qinghui watched him leave, then looked back at Zhu Huangu, who was winding a bandage around her forearm.

"We're having a poetry competition," she told the medic with a grin.

"So I heard," Zhu Huangu said distastefully. "Though I was trying to tune your voice out."

"Ah, but you just couldn't ignore my charm?" Yang Qinghui teased.

Zhu Huangu's glare was less than impressed. She tied off the bandage without breaking eye contact, then began packing up her bag.

"You should come to Zui Xian Peak for the competition," Yang Qinghui suggested. Her mouth twisted mischieviously. "Maybe I'll compose a love poem just for you ~"

Zhu Huangu's hand darted out and poked Yang Qinghui's sore ribs.

"Ouch!" Yang Qinghui winced.

"No strenuous physical activity for three days," Zhu Huangu said in a clipped, professional tone. She set a small bottle on the rock next to Yang Qinghui. "Apply this salve as needed."

"Yes, ma'am," Yang Qinghui drawled, making an exaggerated martial arts salute.

"Hmph." Zhu Huang stood and turned on her heel, walking briskly over to the other Qian Cao cultivator.

Yang Qinghui watched her go, thoroughly amused. She took the salve, tossed it up, and caught it again, then got to her feet with a stifled groan.