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Ming Fan was incredibly busy all the time, so he didn’t really like being called off to Qiong Ding at the whim of their head disciple. But, someday they would be the respective peak lords, and especially while Shizun was away from the sect, it wasn’t wise to pick fights.
But that didn’t stop him from saying, “Do you really need the strategic peak to help you pick a seating arrangement for the conference? That seems like an An Ding matter.”
“Except,” said Da-shixiong with a nasty smile, “that all our seating problems are caused by Qing Jing Peak.” He continued before Ming Fan could get out his objections. “For example, anyone from any peak will fight with Huan Hua Palace but at the same time, Cang Qiong Mountain is the only sect that will even sit next to Huan Hua.”
“That is definitely a Bai Zhan problem and--”
“And I will absolutely be talking to Yang-shidi about that later. But we all need to remind all our shidis and shimeis that picking fights is absolutely forbidden. Especially at a multi-sect conference! Plus in the past, we all know Qing Jing Peak picked the most fights with Huan Hua Palace, so there may be some lingering grudges.”
Ming Fan was absolutely not going to apologize for that. He crossed his arms and huffed. “Is that all?”
“No. Traditionally the peak lords should sit in order, as you know, and different sects should sit together. However…”
Ming Fan knew where this was going, and couldn’t think of any way to dodge.
“Is there any chance Luo Binghe— I mean, the Huan Hua Palace Master— will accept not sitting next to Shen-shishu?”
“Are you seriously asking me if Luo Binghe will be fine if he doesn’t sit next to Shizun? Luo Binghe? The least he’ll do is throw a tantrum, because he throws tantrums all day long--” Ming Fan had a few grievances to air, okay?— “and at most he will destroy the sect.” Come on, where has Da-shixiong been the past few years? “Also he won’t care what anyone says, he’ll either move so he’s sitting next to Shizun or move Shizun so he’s sitting next to him.”
Da-shixiong narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Which do you think is more likely?”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“He’ll move to sit next to Shizun, so Shizun can remain with the sect to provide important strategic contributions.” Actually it would be because Shizun wanted to gossip with Qi Qingqi and Shang Qinghua, but no need to blab that around.
Da-shixiong sighed. “Of course you understand the problem with having Luo Bi— the Palace Master— in close proximity to Liu-shishu.”
“Of course I do!” Ming Fan certainly understood it better than an outsider!
“Is there any chance that… ah… that Shen-shishu could make Luo-shidi— er, Palace Master Luo— sit with his own sect?”
Ming Fan gave him an incredulous look. Could anyone make Luo Binghe do anything? Could Shen Qingqiu make Luo Binghe do that? Possibly. Would he? Absolutely not. Shizun would want to gossip with his friends and admire his disciple at the same time, and would let Luo Binghe get away with murder (literally) so that he could have the pleasure of doing the same thing he did every night (presumably), which was to put the nicest pieces of food in Luo Binghe’s bowl, who would then put them back into Shen Qingqiu’s bowl. Eating with them was awful, actually, and Ming Fan, who had suffered a great deal in the past without any peak lords helping, thought they deserved to have to put up with it during a banquet.
Of course Ming Fan was also a filial and loyal disciple, and looked for a way to save Shizun’s thin face. “Luo-shidi is better kept under Shizun’s watchful eye,” he said. “To prevent problems.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Da-shixiong said. “Do you think Huan Hua will cause any problems?”
“They’re frightened of Luo Binghe—” as they should be, he added silently— “and if he has to leave Shizun’s side because they’ve been stirring up trouble, he’ll be very angry.”
“Fair enough, I suppose. Doesn’t this seem too complicated?”
“What’s complicated?” Ming Fan sniffed. “Besides, Luo-shidi is still a member of Qing Jing Peak, so it’s not inappropriate.” Luo Binghe was only still accepted by some peaks (ok, only Qing Jing, An Ding, and Xian Shu as long as you weren’t asking Qi Qingqi herself, with Qian Cao being firmly neutral under Mu Qingfang, and Qiong Ding itself technically yes but only if Shen Qingqiu was present to hear the answer), and Shen Qingqiu threw a fit about it every time, so no one would dare to make a fuss in front of all the sects together. Cang Qiong’s reputation had suffered enough.
“So we accept that Luo-shidi— Palace Master Luo— will sit with Qing Jing Peak no matter what, but do we go ahead and label his place there? I can’t help feeling it’s a slight to Huan Hua and the other sects will also take offense.”
“The other sects are going to take offense no matter what,” Ming Fan said. “This one will make a humble suggestion— leave a table for the Palace Master with Huan Hua so they don’t look slighted, but put an extra seat next to Shizun’s table. You don’t even need to put an extra table.” Ming Fan sighed deeply, but forced the words out. “Luo-shidi will be happier eating off Shizun’s table, he doesn’t need his own.” He wept tears in his heart for Shizun’s dignity, but he knew this would be what would happen anyway. “That way the row arrangements aren’t thrown off.”
Da-shixiong looked appalled but made a note of it.
“This shidi will inform Shizun of the seating arrangements personally, so don’t worry about that,” Ming Fan added. He should get hazard pay. Not that he got paid at all! Instead he only had to keep paying out money to fix the Qing Jing Peak sign! Which reminded him… “Just make sure you keep Luo-shidi out of Liu-shishu’s eyeline as much as possible. At least until after the food is finished.”
“This shixiong is well aware of that,” he said. He was too well-bred to sneer, but Ming Fan knew it was implied.
“Is there anything else?”
“Just one more question, Ming-shidi. Which sect do you think is least likely to attack Huan Hua on sight?”
“Zhao Hua Monastary, for sure,” Ming Fan said. “Master Wu Chen and Shizun are on very good terms.”
“Okay, okay,” Da-shixiong murmured, writing that down too. “That should help.”
“As long as they don’t bring that demon with them,” Ming Fan added. “There will be fighting for sure then.”
“You have once again brought shame to Cang Qiong Mountain,” Qi Qingqi said, taking a long sip of wine with great satisfaction, while closely watching the drama over the rim of her cup.
“Qi-shimei, that’s not fair at all,” Shen Qingqiu protested mildly. He had his fan in front of his face, but was obviously avidly following the fight in front of them. Of course, he was physically incapable of not defending Luo Binghe, so he continued with, “It was Zhao Hua Monastary who so unexpectedly brought Tianlang-Jun along.”
“Yeah, I’m really not sure what they thought was going to happen there,” Shang Qinghua said, where he was half-hiding behind Shen Qingqiu.
“As if you know the secrets of the universe,” Qi Qingqi scoffed. She did not see the look Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua exchanged.
“Should we… attempt to restrain Liu-shidi?” Yue Qingyuan asked. He sounded tired.
“No, no,” Shen Qingqiu waved his fan. “Look how much fun Tianlang-Jun is having.” They all briefly ducked as Luo Binghe sent a blast of demonic energy at his father, who laughed in delight.
Mu Qingfang, who was sitting with his head in his hands, only sighed.
“Shizun,” Ming Fan whispered, scooting up behind Shang Qinghua and making him startle. “This isn’t my fault, right?”
Shen Qingqiu turned around to look at him, both incredulous and suspicious. He pushed Shang Qinghua out of the way. “What did you do?”
“Nothing! Shizun, this disciple even warned Qiong Ding Peak about this!”
“…This? Then how can it be your fault? Be reasonable.” He patted Ming Fan’s head.
Luo Binghe, fighting two people at once and halfway down a very long room, saw this and wailed in fury. He threw Liu Qingge into Tianlang-Jun. “Shizun!”
“Oh, you’ve done it now, bro,” Shang Qinghua said.
“Shut up or I’ll throw you out there, too,” Shen Qingqiu hissed behind his fan. Then he began to scold Luo Binghe for throwing his shishu in an unfilial way.
“Shizun,” Ning Yingying called, pushing Ming Fan aside, “does this mean we can fight with Huan Hua Palace now?”
Luo Binghe was trying to abandon the three-way brawl he’d started so he could sit in Shen Qingqiu’s lap and make sure no one else received a head pat. Liu Qingge’s leg seemed to be broken, based on the way Tianlang-Jun was dragging him around.
“Perhaps,” Yue Qingyuan sounded like he was getting a migraine, “perhaps we should all sit down now? Anywhere is fine.”