Chapter Text
Deep within the walls of the Bianfu Mountain Sect’s(1) [边附山派] main building, one of the five prestigious cultivation clans in the jianghu [江湖], the four Peak Lords and the Sect Leader were shrouded in a tense atmosphere. It had always been like this for many years, every time they held an official meeting to discuss the development and ongoing problems within the sect. Despite being a martial family for so long, their relationship had dwindled greatly since the fateful day they had lost a precious one of their own. Bruce Wayne, ever the responsible Sect Leader, had always tried his best to mediate the fragile peace between them, but he was already growing old in terms of immortal cultivation years and his foster children never truly listened to him anymore since becoming Masters of their own peaks.
He sighed tiredly as the threat of another headache loomed over the horizon. If only…if only he had been honest…would things have been any different?
“Perhaps if senior brother Todd was a slightly more competent teacher and actually spent time teaching his disciples correctly, then those unruly brutes wouldn’t sneak onto this junior’s Yuan Yang Peak(2) [鸳鸯峰] and cause trouble with his own students.”
The one who had spoken so brazenly with a venomous tone was Peak Lord Timothy Drake, refined and aloof scholar Master. With eyes as sharp as a snake's, he glared across the large round table at his addressed shixiong(3), arms crossed underneath the long sleeves of his golden yellow outer robe. The other man, Peak Lord Jason Todd—more commonly known by admirers and enemies alike as the Raptor God for his terrifying martial prowess—didn’t even dignify the accusation with a scoff as he usually did whenever Timothy made his displease known. Jason merely lifted his head to glare back at his junior martial brother from down his nose as if challenging the other to a fight right in the middle of the Bianfu Dong Hall(4) [蝙蝠洞殿].
“Junior brother Drake seems to have forgotten that not everybody glue their noses books and practice calligraphy all day long to wax mediocre poetry like Yuan Yang scholars. The disciples of Jin Ying Peak(5) [金鹰峰] cultivate through duels and constant physical training, and it is only natural for them to search for suitable sparring partners on other peaks,” Jason countered haughtily. “My frequent absence is not without reason. Where does shidi(6) think all the corpses of valuable, priceless beasts and monsters contributing to our cultivation come from? Certainly not from the Heavens!”
“This one believes senior brother Todd should not take too much pride in disciples who think with only muscle might and not with their empty brains, much like their shizun(7),” Tim retorted viciously, to which a loud fist slamming on the table followed as Jason stood abruptly from his seat.
“Timothy Drake, you—!”
“That’s enough,” a third frustrated voice interrupted the oncoming explosive argument.
If there was another person who tried his best at maintaining the flimsy peace between them as much as the Sect Leader, it was Peak Lord Richard Grayson. As the Master of Lan Weng Peak(8) [蓝翁峰]—expertise in swordsmanship and the honorable way—he was righteous to a fault and perhaps the most emotionally sensible out of all of them. Since the early years of their disciple days under their foster father and Master Bruce Wayne, Richard had already played mediator between his two polar opposites and prone to fighting martial brothers. This was no more than a mere common occurrence to him.
“Junior brother Drake is right, this one also believe junior brother Todd should tell his disciples to refrain from disturbing the disciples of the other peaks as it may create serious infighting within the sect, and the last thing we need right now is our own conflict to affect our students.”
The only Peak Lord that had yet to speak—Richard, Jason and Tim’s sole female martial sibling and Master to a female-only branch of Bianfu Mountain Sect, Tian E Peak(9) [天鹅峰]—positively blanched at the mention of their grief. Cassandra Cain had never been a woman of many words, but her facial expressions and actions displayed her emotions sufficiently. She had never been happy at the ceaseless tension between them since that day, but her martial brothers were all too deep in their own mourning. It wasn't as though she wasn't grieving herself, but Cassandra knew her situation was very different. After all, what she felt for her littlest shidi was sisterly affection. But, the other three…
Cassandra pursed her lips. Damian…
Damian Wayne, their precious and beloved junior. The Sect Leader's only biological child and the light that they all cherished dearly during their youthful days. Things were better back then, where they had no heart devils and no other burden in their minds other than focusing on the breakthroughs of their cultivation stages, all the while representing their sect to the fullest. At the time, they hadn't been famous yet like the four other grand clans of the cultivation world, and it had been only the five of them studying under Bruce. Before the glory, before establishing the sect…it had been just them, together.
Until the Grand Cultivation Congress hosted ten years ago.
It was the first time their little sect had attempted to make a name for themselves within the jianghu, and the last time they would ever see their xiao shidi(10) again.
All five of Bruce Wayne’s disciples had joined the Congress, eager to prove to the other sects the existence of a clan so small but no less capable. They had been judged and passively ridiculed, at first—it was a normal thing to endure when you were a nameless sect joining such a prestigious event for the first time—but those people had been quick to shut their mouths when they saw how the five disciples had dominated both the battle arena and the hunting field. The two trials were by no means easy, but they were winning through sheer will and months upon months of training for that day. They was supposed to emerge victorious…and they did… but at the cost of their dear Damian.
No one knew what had happened. One moment, Bruce had been frantic in entering the hunting area after receiving Damian’s distress talisman, and the next, he had returned to the Observation Hall to his four remaining disciples with a grim expression as he cradled the shards and handle of what had been Damian’s sword. The pain and anguish were visible on their faces when their shifu(11) had shook his head slowly and declared their xiao shidi dead.
And because of that, even though the Bianfu Mountain Sect had earned their due fame in front of the other powerful cultivation clans…the Master and his disciples could not truly rejoice deep down. They had lost something inherently more important. And no matter how much the Sect Leader was pestered, he did not tell his foster children the whole truth of what had happened and why.
A lot of resentment from Richard—Bruce’s Head Disciple—against their shifu was built and eventually, it became an internal demon so severe that he’d been stuck at a half step to the middle stage Nascent Soul ever since. Damian’s death became a heart devil for the rest of them too, of course, as Jason had become more prone to qi deviations and Cassandra was unable to progress from the early stage of forming her own Nascent Soul. Tim had reached a bottleneck right after his Core Formation stage, and as for their Sect Leader himself…he’d gradually given up on Immortal Ascension.
It had taken the martial siblings five years of mourning to release themselves of this internal demon just enough to make an advance on their cultivation by the time they evolved from disciples to Peak Lords, when Bruce had built the school in their mountain and began accepting young aspiring students for his foster children. Because that was what they were now, recognized on the same level as what was previously only four most powerful sects. Now they were counted as the fifth, and they were expected to nourish future generations of righteous immortal cultivators. And for the following five years, Bianfu Mountain Sect flourished rapidly.
Sect Leader Wayne knew, however, that he’d harbored too much regret over his youngest son to ever be rid of his internal demon to achieve heavenly ascension. And he knew he’d been the one to influence such negative emotions upon the rest of his disciples, which always resulted in trivial arguments such as the one Jason and Tim were having as of this moment. Every monthly meeting was like sitting on a carpet of needles.(12)
“You dare to mention our internal demon, eldest senior brother Grayson?” The scholar Peak Lord seethed, the coldness in his tone becoming invisible ice shards intending to pierce his shixiong. It was as though Richard had involuntarily flipped the switch to an even more vicious side of Timothy. “You, who always declared to be the one who loved and cared for our xiao shidi the most, yet had never once in ten years stepped foot on the ground where his sword mound lays to pay your respects and mourn him?”
The tension in the entire hall snapped.
“Timothy Drake, you are completely out of line!” Richard’s hackles raised, bristled by the blatant accusation and nonetheless secretly ashamed because it was unfortunately the truth. His grief had simply been too strong for him to bear looking at Damian’s mound, where he knew only the shattered remains of his sword were buried instead of a proper body. “Is that anyway to speak to your dashixiong?!”(13)
“Did this one lie, though? It seems to me that is the exact reason why dashixiong was able to reach the peak of his Nascent Soul and made a breakthrough merely a year after junior brother Wayne’s death,” Timothy said, producing a fan from his sleeve and opening it to hide his lower face. He looked nothing more like a viper hissing at its enemy through the tall grass. “You have obviously chosen to focus on your own cultivation over mourning our xiao shidi.”
Richard’s lips thinned into a dangerous line and he looked seconds away from drawing his Re Xin Twin Swords [热心双剑] from their scabbards on his back, even though he wasn’t the kind of man to improperly point his sword at a martial brother in the middle of a sect meeting. Usually. Tim Drake was just that good at pushing people’s buttons until they cracked. It was no wonder he was a renowned scholar—he had the ability to wield words as a weapon, the same way he wielded his Feng Xian Spear [奉献枪].
“That’s enough venom coming from you for today, Timothy Drake.” Jason growled.
“Silence, all of you!”
The suffocating animosity intent did not disappear at the booming voice of Sect Leader Wayne, though the Peak Lords did cease in their verbal lashing and resorted to quietly glaring at each other. Bruce rubbed his temples tiredly with a heavy sigh. One of these days, the Peak Lords' constant arguing was going to induce a qi deviation in this old man, really!
He was internally grateful when the ever soft-spoken Cassandra decided to appease her martial brothers.
“Infighting does not bring xiao shidi back. It has been ten years. We must replace weapons with jade and silk,”(14) she said, staring firmly into all three pairs of blue eyes.
It wasn’t enough to make them forget the transgression incited by Timothy, of course, but it was enough to make the three of them deflate a little from showing such unsightly behavior in front of their Zhangmen-shifu.(15) It was, admittedly, very unbefitting of the esteemed Bianfu Mountain Peak Lords. Seeing as the aggressiveness had been toned down, Bruce deemed it necessary to end the meeting there and then. Preferably before Jason and Timothy found another reason to poke the dragon and sour Richard’s mood even more.
“Jason, as your dashixiong has said, it is wise from now on to curb your disciples’ more unruly behavior. While Jin Ying is acknowledged for its militarism, this master does not wish for conflict between peaks to be born. It will negatively affect social relationships between the disciples and disrupt the peace within our sect.”
At this, Jason predictably did not talk back against his stern shifu, only begrudgingly slumped in his seat with a low ‘tsk’ hissed underneath his breath.
“And Timothy. While this master can see how much importance you clearly put in honoring your littlest junior’s memory, he does not want to ever witness you using Damian’s name against your senior brothers again. Understand?”
Bruce eyed the scholar with such authority that Timothy had no other choice but to snap his fan shut and lower his gaze. “Understood."
The Sect Leader nodded, letting out another sigh.
“Fine. If there is nothing else to report, let us conclude for today. You may return to your peaks.”
Even though the hall was cleared out moments later, Bruce could still feel the animosity wafting outside the corridors.
As it was, Richard and Timothy’s business was not resolved by silence.
“Sometimes, this one wonders if it had been eldest senior brother Grayson’s incessant coddling that had led to our xiao shidi becoming complacent after all.”
Richard clenched his fist, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to not take the obvious bait. Instead, he threw out one of his own. “Do not throw out such heavy accusations without foundation, shidi. Dami was more than capable of protecting himself. My ‘coddling’ did not affect him in the slightest, it was merely the fruit of our affections for one another.”
The Lan Weng Peak Lord felt almost vindicated when he heard the tell-tale squeaking strain behind his back—a sign of Timothy clutching his fan so hard he could break the fragile handle. Richard had always known his younger martial brothers to be envious of how (infuriatingly, in their opinion) close he was to Damian, enough to call him an intimate name. Their xiao shidi had never allowed anyone else to address him as ‘Dami’.
“What did it matter that you two were affectionate beyond platonic?” Timothy gritted his teeth, dropping all formality in his speech because of jealous anger. “He had never once confessed to seeing you as anything more than a martial brother. You may have been the one to spend the most time with him but I was the one constantly occupying his thoughts! I made sure of it!”
“Yes, because you manipulatively turned everything into a rivalry so he had no choice but to always think of ways to surpass you.” Richard rolled his eyes. “This one will commend junior brother Drake’s cunningness, but none of it matters anymore. Our xiao shidi is no longer with us. It is pointless to continue this battle of hearts.”
“Perhaps not.”
Richard and Timothy both swerved around to see Jason standing not far away from them, his arms crossed and his expression contemplative.
“What are you talking about, shixiong?” The scholar huffed. “Is this one of your delusional talks a shichen(16) before yet another qi deviation?”
“Shut up, bookworm,” Jason rebuffed calmly. Richard’s eyes widened in surprise as Timothy spluttered indignantly. “I’m saying…that maybe we have all been fooled.”
“Explain, shidi,” Richard urged.
There was a moment were the Jin Ying Peak Lord hesitated whether or not it was a good idea to share what he had seen. After all, Jason could hardly believe it himself when it had happened. If his suspicions turned out to be wrong, then he would be hoping for devastatingly nothing and his martial brothers the same. But, out of the rare chances where he’s right…then it was worth it to get to the bottom of the story, even if they’d be opening a whole can of worms. And possibly storming their Sect Leader’s private study in red-hazed fury.
“A week ago…I was on a night hunt down the mountain, near Chang Lu Forest [长鲁森林]. Unfortunately, what I had initially determined as a beast turned out to be a nasty demon from the Demon Realm, and the thing had almost crippled me and ripped out my golden core had it not been for a rogue cultivator coming to my aid,” Jason began. “I was already losing too much blood and my qi was severely depleted, so my vision was not clear before passing out…but I distinctly remember how the person had such verdant green eyes when they crouched next to me.”
There was a morbid silence following his retelling, and Jason could already see his fellow Peak Lords’ initial reaction of denial. He could understand the sentiment, after all, they had more or less come to terms (with a lot of difficulty) with Damian’s death. But they also knew no one else who had the same shade of bamboo green in their irises that could bewitch even the strongest of immortal minds.
It was an extremely dangerous flicker of hope.
“Green eyes…couldn't possibly be too uncommon…” Timothy countered weakly behind his open fan.
“There was nothing but imperial jade green flooding my hazy vision. The person wore a weimao and so many layers of green robes that accentuated their eyes…and I vividly remember the demon died of implosion after that other cultivator played a melody on a qi infused pipa.”
“What?!” Richard and Timothy both exclaimed in unison.
Because if there was one thing besides his alluring eyes that had captured their hearts as young disciples, it was Damian’s love for musical cultivation and playing the elegant pipa.
There had been a circulating rumor in the jianghu for many years now. A myth, a whispered legend, the townsfolk liked to say. A story one could tell to their children before going to bed of a peerless wandering cultivator who journeyed far and wide on foot, never stopping in a city for long and using their powers to exterminate evil whenever the innocent cry out for help. The traveler always wore a weimao and even a face veil, because it was said that their beauty was too enthralling for the mortal gaze so except a few who had seen the person’s face, nobody really knew if they were man or woman. The cultivator wore thick layers of imperial jade green robes that spread and fluttered like the gorgeous tail of a peacock with every step they took. But as if it wasn’t enough for their appearance to surpass even a fairy's, their fighting style left one utterly breathless with their graceful swordsmanship akin to an elegant dance and the harmonious melodies of their pipa. Such a being must not be just an immortal cultivator—one would think they were a deity descended from the Heaven Realm to bestow their protection! In some versions of the story, such a theory was true. The folks had deemed it befitting to give the person a jianghu title. They were called…
The Jade Peafowl [玉孔雀].
There were also other versions of the story that painted the wanderer as a demon in disguise instead, parading as a righteous xianzun(17) to profit off of the weak and helpless in the Mortal Realm to extort rewards, hence the untouchable and extraordinary beauty to captivate the hearts of men and women alike. Usually, those were told by people who had yet to actually meet the rogue cultivator for themselves and witness the truth before changing their minds completely.
Humanity was truly so fickle. They would hate something they couldn’t explain, simply because they didn’t trust it, and then turn around to worship that same thing in another breath after being proven wrong. How laughable.
Well, it wasn’t as though I care about what they say of me anyway, Damian thought to himself as he bid the kind old lady and her family farewell, refusing again to take anything more than a few silver taels before turning on his heels and walked away from the small village. Adjusting his weimao slightly under the bright shining sun, he let out a soft hum as he wondered where his next journey would take him.
A little dreadful feeling was nagging at the back of his mind but Damian quickly dismissed it. If it was a small thing, then it wasn’t important.
Right?