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He isn't sure how he stumbled into this, one too many smart comments, he supposes.
He had been down in the town to fetch supplies for his Shizun, primarily alcohol. When he passed the sect gates on his way back, the crowd of, frankly, underfed and dirty children had drawn his attention. Why were they— oh yes, selection. They had all come to try and find a new way of living, a better way.
As he stood there, he watched two robberies occur and one physical fight break out.
This was only the start of it, the merchant class had yet to arrive, not to mention any nobility.
Why was there no one…. watching this? Or maybe distributing food, they used to do that back in his world for important exams. Ensuring everyone entered on equal footing and full stomachs. Even when he thought back to his own selection he could barely recall the journey due to the exhaustion and hunger that had occupied his mind.
The whole point of digging in the earth was to assess the children's spiritual roots, how were they to assess them if they passed out from hunger or exhaustion or both on the journey up the mountain?
Oh, he was well aware that the steps were another test, but a test of physical endurance is in no way equal when one participant is starving and the other was driven to the starting line in a carriage to ensure they arrived fully rested.
(It was the inequality of it that niggled him; the suffering of the children barely registered if he was being honest, not that he often was. They're not real.)
When he brought this up to his teacher in a moment of insanity, the man looked at him blearily for a few moments before deciding, "You fix it then."
NO, not what he was aiming for, Shizun. Have pity on this poor disciple, he was already doing half of the peak's work. He was taught inedia for the sole purpose of doing more work.
He didn't say any of this, instead bowing and projecting his voice in order to proclaim his gratefulness until his teacher shooed him away with a pained grimace.
He had fully intended to forget the entire interaction if not for the notice that arrived the next year.
Head Disciple Shang Bo, you have been assigned to act as a sentry at the gate due to your request during the last selection cycle.
And below, in his Shizun's flowing script:
You're not getting out of this one, think of it as a punishment for the warehouse disaster last month.
As he will loudly tell anyone who listens, the warehouse disaster was not his fault. How was he to know they had been using asbestos as insulation?
———————————
The first year was… rough, to say the least. All of the brats thought he was there to survey them, and so he received an interesting mix of displays of prowess, outright bullying, and bribery.
(The bribery was his favourite part, as he had been given full permission to keep anything given to him.)
But, every evening he coordinated the distribution of meals, and every time a fight began to break out he merely had to shift in place, sword shining softly in the sun, before it would resolve itself. The kids even finally allowed themselves to rest as he began to patrol around them in the night. Combined with the regular meals, they were by far the most well-behaved group he had ever seen for the selection.
When the merchant class and nobles began to show up, they attempted to shoo away the orphans and commoners, believing that their offspring deserved a closer space to the gate.
Yes, of course, how could he forget, obviously a metre head start would surely guarantee your lazy son with no spiritual roots a place within the sect. It all makes sense now.
Idiots.
However, his rag-tag group of kids was not about to sacrifice their hard-earned places, it nearly came to a physical fight. Again. Gods, do these kids know how to do anything else?
They don't, because every moment of their life is a struggle, because you ensured every moment of their life would be a struggle.
He once again smoothed it over by placing a hand upon his sword and slowly turning his head in their direction. God, he could get used to this. It's rather fun.
Is this how Liu Qingge will feel in the future?
———————————
"Well, boy, that was actually a success." His teacher raised an eyebrow at him. "The sect leader sends his thanks as well as compliments from the residents of the town. Apparently quite a bit of the usual trouble was prevented."
Suck it, world, here comes Shang Qinghua, wonderful ideas for days.
Looking up at his teacher he shivered at the smirk that seemed to have made its way to the man's face. Dread began to rise in his throat.
"They want you to do it again next year. I'll give my permission then, since you seemed to enjoy it so much."
Bastard. This was going to become a thing, wasn't it.
———————————
Become a thing it did.
After several more years of successful watching, they decided to make it somewhat official.
The 'Sentry of the Gate' was now a proper position and promptly permanently assigned to him. They trialed it one year with a Bai Zhan disciple and the kids made him cry. There was no head disciple on Qiong Ding Peak currently, and the Qing Jing Peak Lord laughed herself silly when asked if she would sacrifice one of her precious disciples for 'babysitting,' as she called it.
They had crafted him armour on Wan Jian Peak.
"In order to protect you," they claimed.
Against children? No. They were being dramatic assholes again and wanted him to match the gates themselves. Intimidate some nobles, heighten the reputation of the sect, blah blah blah. He was even given a mask to wear across his face in order to preserve his anonymity and prevent any bias. He just knew the Peak Lords were laughing themselves silly over this, he looked as though he was about to enter into battle, not go and stare at a group of children for a week or two.
That's how he found himself here, staring at the gaunt face of a young Yue Qingyuan, or rather Qi-ge as he was known in this moment. Lucky number seven, and brother to Xiao-Jiu.
It was the first day of his vigil, and this boy was the first one to arrive, an impressive feat really. When the boy stepped closer he resisted the urge to run away and tried to focus above the child’s head, instead of looking at obvious starvation present in his frame.
"Pardon me, Honoured Cultivator."
No, please go away. This Shang Bo cannot be of help to you, he cannot be of help to anyone.
He glanced warily around for the system but there seemed to be no sign of it yet.
"If you will excuse my rudeness, I just wanted to know if you are here to be a guard for the selection of Cang Qiong."
Heart hammering in his chest, he gave the boy a simple nod.
Yue Qi seemed to sag in relief. "A thousand thank yous, and do you know if the selection is soon?"
The boy's way of speaking was carefully precise but clunky in a way that showed he was parroting it from someone else, copying one of the many formal conversations he had been forced to listen to during his time as a slave.
(this tiny child had been a slave.)
Shang Bo nodded once more, on the spot deciding that the sentry of Cang Qiong would not speak, ever. A vow of silence, very official, very secretive, he assures you.
That night, the young boy was still the only one present at the gate. Yue Qi might be the only one present for a couple of days if he was being honest with himself, the selection was not for two weeks.
Now… he had to bring Yue Qi food. Yue Qi, future sect leader, escaped slave. He had to bring the boy food and probably hang around to ensure he didn't choke on it in his hunger. What was that thing he had read about in his own world, couldn't people get terribly sick if they ate a bunch of food after a period of starvation? Oh God, was he about to kill the future sect leader?
The boy had taken refuge in a nearby alley, startling awake when he saw Shang Bo approaching.
Okay, gentle. Take it easy, pretend he's one of your feral cats. Bending slowly at his knees he set the meal in front of Yue Qi softly, laying the utensils beside it. It was a bit of bread and some broth, hopefully easily digested.
Nodding once, he sharply turned and went back to his 'post,' praying Yue Qi wasn't looking at him. This would be a terrible time to trip over something.
———————————
Qi couldn't believe his luck. The mysterious cultivator had left him a bowl of the most delicious thing he had ever tasted and a bread roll he could store for later. Maybe this was a good sign, perhaps everything would work out as intended. All for the sake of going back for Xiao-jiu. Nothing was more important.
Looking up once again at the cultivator, they had reclaimed their spot by the edge of the gate, the setting sun gleaming off their armour. The only distinguishable feature about them was their eyes. A deep gold, everything else had been covered.
He was burning with questions to ask, and even if they were reluctant to speak, he needed to get answers. He would start slowly, just one or two a day. He cannot afford to anger them. Xiao-jiu's life could rely on this.
———————————
The night passed and he attempted to meditate. These two weeks might be the chance he finally needed to actually focus on his cultivation, instead of running behind his Shizun or running away from his work.
System.
"Yes, Host," it chirped, a bright screen appearing before him.
"Why are you not stopping this from happening?"
"Yue Qi isn't aware he is interacting with the host, and even if he was it would not change the canon story. His fate is still to fall to Luo Binghe."
Lovely. Great to know.
"Anytime, let me know if I can help you with anything else (^ω^)"
It faded from view again; must be the power saving mode it always seems to be in. The main source of its power, the protagonist, had yet to arrive, it probably didn't have the power to interfere with the prologue too much.
He opened his eyes.
Fuck.
Yue Qi was right in front of him.
He slowly bent his head to meet the boy's eyes. They stared at each other for a few moments. C'mon, kid, I don't have all day. Well, he did, but the quicker this interaction went, the quicker he could go back to forgetting about how prominent Yue Qi's cheekbones were.
"Good morning, Zūnzhě."
Yeesh, kid, laying it on a bit thick there. Zūnzhě, hah, an honoured cultivator of great power or wisdom he was not. He gave his now signature nod in response. He was getting quite good at that.
"This lowly one has more questions, if you could allow this one to ask them."
Sure, what harm could it do? Another nod.
"Are you allowed to speak?"
There, the formal speech coming and going depending on how excited the kid was. It was kind of cute, if he was being honest. They'll beat it out of him on Qiong Ding. He shakes his head. Sorry, kid, no use asking this poor disciple for information; go bother someone else.
"I see, I see, thank you, Zūnzhě, for your time."
And with that Yue Qi once again scurried off to his little resting spot. Okay then, that was… easy enough.
———————————
He's back. This time Yue Qi was trying to suss out the order of the peaks, and what their names were. Unfortunately only so much information can be conveyed in a nod, and Yue Qi seemed to have overestimated his mind-reading skills.
"Okay, nod if I'm correct, Qing Jing is the fifth peak of the sect."
Forgive him for his sins, Shībó, he did not mean to besmirch the name of Qing Jing. His Martial Aunt would come for his head if she knew he had allowed this misunderstanding to go on.
He looked to the left, and to the right, before dropping down to Yue Qi's level. The boy jerked back, apologies already spilling from his lips before he noticed what Shang Bo was doing. Drawing a map of the peaks, in order, with their names written beside them. Yue Qi was lucky there was a prime spot of dirt right next to the gate, these drawings were some of his best work.
The boy gasped in delight, studying the drawing intently. "This is perfect, I can ask you so many more questions."
Little shit.
(He would forever deny that he meant that in a fond way.)
———————————
That's how their days progressed, questions in the morning (and the afternoon as the volume of questions increased), and then a quiet dinner in the evening. Yue Qi had taken to sitting by his side while quietly eating dinner. Using him as a human shield, he thinks. No one would steal food from an orphan if he ate it beside the Sentry of Cang Qiong.
They slowly muddled their way through the hierarchy of the peaks, the names of the peak lords, some small bits of geography for the surrounding towns. This one knows what you're doing, Yue Qi, already planning a rescue route for Shen Jiu, but he allows it anyway. He even helps Yue Qi find the characters for his name.
岳 Yuè - a surname meaning "Mountain Peak"
七 Qī - meaning "Seven"
At that he felt another stab of guilt, the boy obviously didn't have a surname until he plucked one out of the air at Shang Bo's questioning head tilt. The meals were doing the boy good, and he had slowly been increasing the quantity and richness of the food.
Yue Qi's goal for today had been to try to find out just exactly what the selection trial was, and he had been having buckets of fun just pointing towards the ground. Let the future sect leader look back and cringe at his terrible hints.
Then another person arrived, and another, and another. Today marked five days until the official selection and it seemed as though the floodgates had opened. He was pretty sure he had spotted one or two out of the corner of his eye in the days previous, but they had finally mustered their courage and come to wait in front of the gate.
Shit, he couldn't be caught showing favouritism, the merchants would throw a fit. Especially after the amount of bribes he took last year and then did nothing about. They paid for his yearly supply of melon seeds.
At the sight of the first new child, he rose to his feet without warning and went back to his post at the gate. He cut Yue Qi off mid-sentence as he mused about the spiritually revealing qualities of a mud bath, his newest attempt at deciphering Shang Bo's hints.
Yue Qi watched him in confusion at first and, going by his eyes, no little hurt when met with his sudden coldness. But after watching him rebuff another child's attempts at asking questions, he seemed to come to a conclusion.
Either way the boy ends up sitting next to him as he guards the gates. Only moving to relieve himself or stretch his legs before returning right back to the cultivator's side.
———————————
The day of the selection arrived and with it an electric atmosphere. The town seemed to come alive, with many stalls set up to cater to the visiting parents and a rather large number of street food vendors to feed the crowd of around 400 hopeful children and their relatives.
Yue Qi was a bundle of nerves next to him, practically vibrating from the anxiety and anticipation.
Chill out, little bro, the next sect leader can't be foiled by nerves.
The crowd goes silent at the sight of a Qiong Ding Hallmaster descending on his sword, here to unlock the gates and officially start the selection trial. He knew what to do. Five sharp paces to the left, meet the Hallmaster in the middle. The Hallmaster would unlock the gate, doing some very fancy and complex seal work, he's sure, and then Shang Bo would grab the left gate and the Hallmaster would grab the right. Opening in sync. They both grabbed the same one a few years ago, embarrassing to say the least.
(Not for him obviously, he won that little tug of war.)
They slowly opened the gates, both raising their swords pointed towards the middle as a sign the wards were still active. Then once he reached his original spot, the ward came fully down and they lowered their swords. The crowd seemed frozen, waiting for a sign that they were allowed to proceed, and so when the Sentry beckoned it was as if a spell broke. A wave of children sprinting towards the steps. There were always quite a few that got literally trampled at this stage.
His hand flashed out and grabbed Yue Qi by the shoulder, stopping him from joining the initial wave.
The boy stared at the hand in shock and then up at him, eyes wide in betrayal. He merely held up a finger, hoping the boy understood his meaning to wait, just for a second. The crowd had thinned slightly, the initial stampede at the steps finishing. He lowered his finger and gently pushed Yue Qi through the gate. Turning back towards his post. It was in the young boy's hands now, or perhaps it wasn't. This was all a part of the plot anyway, perhaps Yue Qi was always destined to succeed and his actions had been for nothing.
He was to wait at the gate with the Hallmaster for two shichens before stepping through and closing it behind them.
Good luck, Yue Qi.
Goodbye, Yue Qi, we hardly knew you.