R.S.V.P

"Oi, get a move on!"

"What's the holdup?"

"I've got chickens back here!"

"Hurry up!"

Yang Qinghui leaned out of her carriage window, staring slack-jawed at the line of carriages and wagons that trailed from the top of the ramp of Zui Xian Peak.

"Hey, you there." She caught the attention of the chicken farmer beside her. "Are you all food and livestock suppliers?"

"Oh! Yes, madam," he said with a bow. "There's a few carpenters, too, I think. All this is for the banquet."

"I see…"

The line was barely crawling.

Yang Qinghui opened the door of the carriage and clambered out. "Thanks," she said to the carriage driver, "but I'll go on ahead."

Summoning Sui Gu, she stepped on to the sword. Oh-ho-ho, I've always wanted to try this.

She wobbled unsteadily as the sword rose slowly into the air. Windmilling her arms, she found her balance and directed the sword forwards.

"Whoa!" With an exhilarated laugh, she soared over the heads of the suppliers, who looked up in amazement.

Soon, she reached the stone platform, and hovered high above, looking down at the flurry of preparations.

Under Madam Meng's stern eyes, servants sprinted across the stone platform with armfuls of decorations, food supplies, and bottles of wine. The suppliers were greeted at the top of the ramp, divested of their supplies, and ushered back down the side of the mountain in quick succession as the deliveries were rushed to the kitchen and food storage.

One corner of the stone platform appeared dedicated to table construction: several civilian carpenters and their apprentices were building, carving, and sanding low wooden tables.

Just past the platform, a dozen servants sat in one of the quieter courtyards, laser-focused as they painted paper lanterns with vibrant colour. A rapidly-growing pile sat drying beside them. Yang Qinghui spotted little Lu Ying among them, painting with just as much skill and concentration as the older servants.

As she drifted closer to the kitchens, she noticed several disciples on the outskirts of the Peak, setting up wards and sensor lines.

Good, she thought, satisfied. Security will be important.

She lowered her sword to the courtyard in front of the kitchens, hopping off when the sword was only a foot from the ground.

Delicious smells of cooking vegetables and pastries wafted out of the doorway. Yang Qinghui could hear Head Chef Xiong barking at his subordinates to add more spices to their cooking.

A moment later, the head chef himself emerged from the kitchens with a scowl, wiping his hands on his apron.

"Damn amateurs – " His eyes widened when he saw Yang Qinghui. Hastily, he bowed. "Peak Lord Yang! Welcome back!"

"Thank you, Head Chef Xiong. How are the preparations going?"

"Very well, Peak Lord Yang." The chef straightened up. "We've been experimenting with different dishes and refining our recipes. Would you like to look at the menu I've drawn up?"

"Oh, sure, if you're not too busy."

"Not at all, not at all!"

Head Chef Xiong led Yang Qinghui into the kitchens, where she realized just how hungry she was. Her stomach growled.

"Heh-heh. Maybe I could taste-test a few things, too?" she suggested. 

"Of course!" Head Chef Xiong seized a pan of sizzling rice and scooped up a wooden spoon. "Here, our perfected fried rice recipe."

Yang Qinghui ate a mouthful. "Wow – that's delicious!"

Head Chef Xiong's expression lit up. "Thank you, Peak Lord Yang!"

They darted around the kitchen, Yang Qinghui tasting everything from steamed buns to scallops as Head Chef Xiong presented his proposed eight-course menu.

"That sounds amazing, Head Chef," Yang Qinghui approved, polishing off a mooncake. "I hope this hasn't been too much work for you."

"Not at all, Peak Lord Yang!" The chef's cheeks glowed happily. "Actually, this has been an exciting challenge for me and my chefs."

Yang Qinghui laughed. "I'm glad to hear it. I'll let you get back to preparations."

Leaving the kitchens, she found Madam Meng supervising the invitation-writing in the grand hall. She looked up and quickly bowed as Yang Qinghui stepped into the hall, so much quieter and calmer than outside's frenzy. Three scribes sat at the low dining tables, diligently writing out invitations.

"Welcome back, Peak Lord Yang," Madam Meng greeted. "Was your meditation successful?"

"It went well, thank you."

"Forgive me for asking, but you are back early, are you not?"

"Yes, well, I realized it was unfair of me to leave all the preparations to you," Yang Qinghui said apologetically. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Madam Meng's expression flashed with surprise, but it was quickly swept away. "My thanks, Peak Lord Yang. Perhaps you could review the guest list?"

"Sure." Yang Qinghui plopped onto a cushion next to one of the scribes, who squeaked in alarm and quickly busied himself with a new invitation.

Madam Meng handed her a scroll. "We have already notified each Peak that they are invited to the banquet, but we haven't sent out the official invitations. We were planning to do so tomorrow morning."

Yang Qinghui unrolled the scroll and scanned it.

Qing Jing Peak

Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu

Head Disciple Ming Fan

Two additional disciples OR cultivators (optional)

Xian Shu Peak

Peak Lord Qi Qingqi

Head Disciple Liu Mingyan

Two additional disciples OR cultivators (optional)

The list continued the same way for all eleven other Peaks, the only difference being an extra note for Bai Zhan Peak:

Bai Zhan Peak

Liu Qingge – guest of honour

"Hmm. That brings the total guest list to about forty-four, yes?" Yang Qinghui said, handing the scroll back. "Unfortunate number."

Madam Meng winced. "My apologies. We can remove a few guests – "

"Although," Yang Qinghui realized, "Shen-shixiong can't make it. So I guess we're only at forty-three. Well, that's better, isn't it?"

Shoulders slumping in relief, Madam Meng nodded.

"Good work, then."

"Thank you, Peak Lord Yang."

"Just one thing – I'll deliver the invitation to Qing Jing Peak personally."

"As you wish."

"By the way, do you know where Zhuang Hao is? I haven't seen him."

"Ah. Yes. Just yesterday, he went down to Jinlan City," Madam Meng told her. "A mission request came in while you were cultivating. As Head Disciple, Zhuang Hao was most qualified to accept."

Yang Qinghui frowned. "Will he be alright?"

"…I believe so, Peak Lord Yang. He seemed confident."

Still concerned, Yang Qinghui nodded slowly. "Alright. Well, let's keep going with preparations. I'll take the invitation to Qing Jing Peak now, if it's finished?"

One of the scribes got to her feet and hurried over, bowing and holding out a folded-up piece of paper.

"Here it is."

"Thanks." Standing up, Yang Qinghui slipped the invitation into an inside pocket of her robes. "I'll be back by dinner."

The carriage traffic jam was still clogging up the road, so Yang Qinghui hopped back onto her sword and flew off towards Qing Jing Peak.

Sure, she could have just added a specific request for Luo Binghe, but then he might start wondering how she'd even known his name. Much less suspicious if she "just so happened" to choose him.

Besides, she couldn't deny she was eager to meet the protagonist.