v4c81: Last Days of Fall

Drums pounded without cease. Fireworks detonated with wild abandon. Dragon costumes bounded and pranced through the streets, and children chased their tails.

“—And so the Sects of the Azure Hills, and this Director of Spiritual Ascension Affairs, bid you all welcome to make merry on this fine day!”

Xiulan listened to the cheer that went up as the Lord Director’s voice finished booming through the recently repaired formation. His voice was jovial, and punctuated by even more fireworks.

The streets thronged with people as the Mid-Autumn Festival at the Dueling Peaks commenced.

It was likely very different than the people of this town were used to, Xiulan mused as she walked through the crowd herself. The Dueling Town was normally quiet and sleepy this time of year. Perhaps there would have been a few parties and small town events, as most of the people left during the “off” season. There normally were no cultivators, and without the crowds that travelled to watch the tournaments most of the residents dispersed back into the countryside, retaking their roles as farmers, or simply closing their shops and heading back to other towns and villages.

But this year the cultivators had stayed. This year, each and every sect was in attendance. Over the months they had been operating out of the mountain, the people who lived in the town had obviously sent messages to friends, family, and business partners. And while it wasn’t to the level of a tournament, the number of people in the town had once more swelled. The town once again looked more like a city—and Xiulan had worked with the Lord Director, Bai Huizhong, to organize the festivities properly.

The man had only been too happy to help—the Lord Director had been nothing if not accommodating of everything they had been doing, and in return he had a seat in the meetings. Not that he actually spoke much, simply saying most of the time that he “deferred to the Elders’ judgment.”

Xiulan realised instantly why he had been Lord Director for so long, and why her father never had anything bad to say about the man. He was very adept at the political game.

Outside that, he had actually been quite the help in smoothing out some of their problems. At first the Elders had been skeptical on how a mortal would be able to help with cultivator logistics, but Bai Huizhong clearly knew how to move vast quantities of supplies relatively quickly, and his ability to coordinate men in different towns and villages so far away from his seat of power was fascinating.

He also had several interesting ideas on how to cement the idea of the “Azure Alliance”, as many were calling it, in the minds of the people. They had not announced the alliance officially to the mortals, even if they knew something had changed, simply because at first nobody knew if it wouldn’t all fall apart. But now? With the way things were progressing? Most of the Elders were fine with the people knowing.

To that end Huizhong was commissioning songs and plays and, of all things, dolls of various cultivators, clad in what was fast becoming their uniform—the blue gi top with the symbol for Azure on the back.

“Familiarity reduces fear,” the man had said. “What child is afraid of the doll they hug for comfort at night? Who does not want to hear of their glorious protectors?”

Xiulan found his logic hard to argue against… as did the rest of the Elders. Everybody had been happy about it—except for Tigu.

“So… what about royalties?” she had asked.

Huizhong became slightly less enthusiastic after that—and Tigu had to explain the entire thing to the Elders. Most hadn’t cared about the “paltry sum from mortal trinkets”, but Tigu had simply said it was so they could pay their mortal servants and that they needed every silver coin they could get to properly restore the mountain.

That had found more fertile ground with the Elders, and a deal was soon agreed to. Huizhong would be in charge of the announcement, and they would have a likely small but still useful income stream to aid in the reconstruction efforts.

Xiulan paused and took a step back as she felt something approaching.

“‘Scuse me!!” A child shouted as she darted past Xiulan.

“Outta the way!” another yelped as he barely avoided hitting Xiulan.

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“Sorry, miss!” a third yelped, stumbling after his friends.

Xiulan chuckled at them and shook her head before returning her eyes to the festival.

She only really had two festivals to compare this to. The one in Green Grass Village, and the one in Hong Yaowu. The one in Green Grass Village was a happy memory, and one that was slightly hazy in her mind—she had stopped going after her mother had left to continue on her journey. She remembered some kind of candy, and watching from her father’s shoulders as the dragon puppet bucked and leapt.

The festivities in Hong Yaowu were a lot fresher in her mind, and equally as happy. She had to say, compared to the dancers here, Uncle Xian, Ten Ren, and Yao Che were the superior dragon dancers—the men may have passed middle-aged, but they could put on a fantastic show.

But while the acrobatics of this lot at the Dueling Peaks were not quite as pulse pounding, they were still experienced… and they showed it when they choreographed the dances with the other sets of dragon puppets, bounding and spiraling around each other, before meeting in the center of town and then shooting off again. The men were even making use of one of the new flows of water, skipping and leaping over the shimmering rivers.