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Chapter Text

A soft, golden afternoon light filtered through the paper windows of the Qing Jing Peak library. Xu Honghua sat hunched over a large, leather-bound book, his brow furrowed in concentration. The pages were filled with intricate illustrations and detailed notes on the habits of the Stone-Scaled Dragon, a notoriously elusive beast.

A series of frantic thuds and a choked-off curse sounded from the next room. He flinched, his head snapping up. A moment later, a groan of frustration followed. "This is impossible! It won't stay!"

Honghua sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. He carefully placed a bookmark in his bestiary and rose, his fan held loosely in his hand. He walked to the next room, where Shen Haijing stood, her hair in a messy knot, a bow and several arrows scattered on the floor around her. She was trying to tie back a stray lock of hair that kept falling into her eyes.

"Trouble?" Honghua asked, his voice calm and melodic.

Haijing whirled around, her expression one of utter exasperation. "This hair tie is useless! It keeps slipping."

Honghua chuckled, stepping closer. "Perhaps you're just using it wrong." He reached out and, with a few practiced movements, gathered the unruly strands and secured them with the tie. "You get so focused on one thing, you forget the simple details."

Haijing's shoulders relaxed, a grateful smile replacing her frustrated frown. "You're a lifesaver. I was about to go find the Cloud Beast and demand it help me."

"Don't. I'm pretty sure he's still asleep after the last time you asked him to help you with archery practice," Honghua replied, shaking his head.

Haijing laughed, "Alright, alright. I suppose I'll find a better use of my time then. Want to play some Weiqi?"

Honghua paused for a moment, looking at the clock on the wall. He had a few more hours before Huang Linwan would show up to drag him to Qian Cao Peak for a check-up, citing his latest research-induced injuries as the reason. He'd only gotten a few minor scrapes from a very disgruntled rabbit, but Linwan's concern was always a source of amusement.

"Only if you let me win," he said, returning to his bestiary.

"In your dreams, brother."

Chapter Text

The air in the Wan Jian Peak forge was thick with the smell of scorched metal and sweat. Sparks flew as Zhang Hongjin hammered a glowing piece of steel on his anvil, the rhythmic clang-clang-clang echoing throughout the mountain. His face was dusted with soot, a loose bun keeping most of his hair out of the way. He took a moment to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

He was working on a small, intricate project—a tiny metallic flower. It was a gift for Qiaoying, a thank you for the latest delivery of supplies he'd made (Well that’s the excuse he gave the real reason was he just wanted to make a gift). He had a whole collection of small trinkets he'd made for him.

He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice the figure that had entered the forge until a  hand tapped his shoulder. "Zhang-shixiong, you have a visitor," a junior disciple said quietly.

Hongjin turned, a surprised look on his face. Standing there, holding a small pouch of something, was Qiaoying, his uniform a little rumpled from the long trek.

"A-Ying! What are you doing here? I thought you were working today," Hongjin said, putting down his hammer.

"I finished my deliveries early. This one was to a particularly difficult part of Bai Zhan Peak, so I was given a bonus," Qiaoying said, holding up the pouch. "It's a medicinal paste from Qian Cao Peak. I thought you might need it for your... frequent injuries."

Hongjin's face broke into a wide smile. He took the pouch, his fingers brushing against Qiaoying's. "Thank you. You're too good to me."

"It's nothing," Qiaoying said, his cheeks reddening slightly. "Besides, I wanted to see what you were working on."

Hongjin hesitated for a moment, then showed him the small, metallic flower. "It's for you," he said softly.

Qiaoying's eyes widened, a look of pure delight on his face. "It's beautiful, Hongjin." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Hongjin's cheek, right over his scar. "Thank you."

Hongjin was so flustered he nearly dropped the flower. "You're welcome."

Qiaoying laughed, a warm sound that made Hongjin's heart feel a little lighter. "Well, I should probably get going before Huaming notices I'm gone. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," Hongjin promised, watching him go. He looked back down at the metallic flower and a warm feeling spread through him. He couldn't wait to show it to Qiaoying and see his face light up.

Chapter Text

The An Ding Peak office was a monument to bureaucracy. Piles of paperwork, neatly stacked and labeled, rose from every surface like a paper mountain range. At the center of this organized chaos sat Qiu Huaming, his shoulders slightly slumped as he scribbled notes on a delivery manifest.

He sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Another one?" he muttered to himself, looking at the latest report. 'Incident Report: Unspecified structural damage at Bai Zhan Peak, believed to be fire-related.' Huaming rolled his eyes. "I swear, if it's Shen-shimei again, I'm going to petition the sect leader to just have Bai Zhan Peak's buildings made of solid stone. The repairs alone are eating into our budget."

A gust of wind ruffled the papers on his desk, and Huaming looked up to see a familiar figure standing in the doorway, a flute held loosely in her hand. One of the causes of his occasional paper-filled nightmares, was here.

"What disaster did you cause this time," Huaming asks sighing

"Hey I actually didn't do anything this time thank you very much!" Says Lanfeng defending herself before then adding "I just wanted to see if you wanted to play some Weiqi"

Huaming's face softened. He looked at the mountain of paperwork, then back at his partner, a small smile forming on his lips. "I can take a break. A few more reports bulding up won't kill me... probably."

Lanfeng's smile was genuine. "Good. I wrote another story about a military strategist who had to plan a battle on a ridiculously short timeline. It's not as good as the one where the protagonist had to fend off a demon invasion with only a few hundred soldiers and a pack of rabid chickens, but it's close."

"You and your chickens," Huaming chuckled, getting up from his chair. "Alright, let's go. A game of Weiqi sounds a lot better than reading about how a certain someone's training session somehow managed to burn down a training dummy and half of a supply shed."

Chapter Text

The soft glow of dawn barely touched the peaks of Cang Qiong Mountian, painting the sky in light lavender and rose. Yet, withing the never quiet halls of Qian Cao Peak, Huang Linwan was already at work. The air, often thick with the scent of various herbs, medicines and tinctures, carried a faint, sweet aroma this morning - A linger trace of the tea he shared with Honghua a few hour earlier. Linwan, meticulously ground herbs, his movements precise and practised. He worried, as always. Honghua had come in with yet another injury and just gone back out to likely cause even more chaos. He was after all a force of nature, a whirlwind of curiosity and reckless abandon.

“I swear he has no self-preservation!” Linwan grumbled to himself, words he had probably said a million times before. It was a miracle, Linwan often thought, that Honghua hadn't sustained more severe injuries on his expeditions.

He reached up to touch his necklace absent mindly, a faint smile gracing his lips. He remembered the one of the more recent times Honghua had returned from a particularly perilous trip, covered in mud and minor scrapes, a triumphant gleam in his eyes as he clutched a rare plant specimen. Linwan had scolded him, of course, patched him up with practised ease.

Later that morning, as Linwan organized a fresh batch of medicinal herbs, a familiar, voice drifted from the doorway. “A-Lin, have you seen my copy of 'The Lesser Known Fungi of the Northern Peaks'?”

“A-Hua, you just borrowed that from the Qian Cao library last week,” Linwan said, a playful reprimand in his tone. “And you promised to return it after you’d finished your notes.”

Honghua pouted, a uncommon but endearing expression usually reserved for close friends and family. “Ah, but the curiosity struck, A-Lin! I discovered a fascinating detail about the mycelial network of the Warped Fungus and simply had to cross-reference it immediately.” He twirled his fanbefore continuing. “Besides, I needed an excuse to see my favorite healer.”

Linwan rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth tilted upwards. “Flatterer. What new injury have you acquired this time?” He moved towards Honghua, checking for any tell-tale signs of a mishap.

Honghua chuckled, a light, airy sound. “None, thankfully! Though I did nearly trip over a particularly stubborn root near the Silver Falls. It reminded me, in fact, of a passage in the 'Treatise on Root Systems and Their Peculiarities' – another excellent text, by the way, though I do wish the author had been more descriptive about the root morphology…”

Linwan listened with a practiced ear, letting Honghua's excited chatter wash over him. It was common that the minute Honghua got to talk about a book he would be there for hours just to listen to his partners excited rambblings and complaints.

“Speaking of books,” Honghua continued, interrupting his own tangent, “A-Jin, stopped by Qing Jing yesterday. I have been working on teaching him so new painting techniques and some caligraphy. In exchange, He even made me a new bamboo-themed hair clip.” He gestured to a delicate, intricately carved pin holding back a few strands of his dark hair.

Linwan nodded, the three had recently become friends, it was a strange trio, the scholar, the healer, and the blacksmith, but it worked.

"A-ying stopped by a while ago as well. Apparently, Zhulin’s latest fiery experiment requires a fresh stock of flame-resistant materials so hes been busy carting those from An Ding to Bai Zhan."

Honghua and Qiaoying often hung out with each other to whisper about the inner workings of the peak.

“Well, you all certainly keep busy,” Linwan mused, stepping closer to Honghua and gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “How is your Bai Zhan training? Are you sure coercing Zhulin and Baihuo into teaching you was a wise idea?”

Honghua’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “My dear A-Lin, a Qing Jing disciple with Bai Zhan prowess is a force to be reckoned with! Besides, the sword forms are amazing, and it helps me defend against of some of the beasts I research.” pausing before adding jokingly "It’s all for the sake of knowledge!"

“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” Linwan said, his voice laced with concern. He took Honghua’s hand, his thumb gently running across the back of it.

Honghua’s expression softened, the playful glint in his eyes replaced with a tender gaze. “Always, I will endeavor to preserve my structural integrity for.” He shifted so that he was now properly holding Linwan's hand. “Now, about that fungi book…”