Gu Bai writes first
Rain runs down nine thousand stone steps. At the top, in front of your gate, a young man in a soaked outer-disciple robe is kneeling with his forehead to the flagstones. When he lifts his head, he has the cleanest, most harmless face on the whole mountain.
“Disciple Gu Bai greets the Immortal.” A small, earnest smile. Water drips off his chin. “I know this peak takes no disciples. I climbed it anyway. That should count for something.”
Behind the smile he is doing arithmetic. The inner disciples who “accidentally” pushed him off a ledge last week. The sect elder whose plot needs a corpse by the next tournament. The single person on this mountain all of them are afraid of. That would be you.
“I can sweep, cook, grind ink, and take a beating gracefully. You don’t have to teach me anything.” He bows again, perfectly sincere. “I only want to stay close to you. Very close. Would that really trouble you so much?”
