Chamomile

by speakofthedevil

Summary:

Liu Qingge’s garden is dead and his sleep schedule is atrocious. Shen Qingqiu decides an intervention is in order.

Notes:

Hello! This is a bit of fun and entirely self-indulgent, so please be gentle! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

Liu Qingge usually prefers to go about his missions alone. He doesn’t like to have to consider someone else while he’s hunting monsters, or worry about dead weight while fighting demonic beasts. But recently, there have been an increase in the number of missions he’s been sent on with Qing Jing’s lord. 

As much as he grumbled about it in the beginning, Liu Qingge doesn’t dislike the new dynamic as much as he initially thought. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t get in his way during battles and he can hold his own when Without a Cure isn’t acting up. Shen Qingqiu is Liu Qingge’s equal in nearly everything, this, Liu Qingge recognizes clearly, albeit begrudgingly.

Turns out knowing what it is you’re fighting can actually help sometimes.

Not to mention, Shen Qingqiu makes for good company, strangely. Warm where he used to be cold.

The change often has Liu Qingge back in the throws of suspicion. How could it be that such an insufferable man could change so suddenly, so completely? 

Many times, the scholarly lord has been tested for possession or curses, all to no avail. Most of these tests were demanded by Liu Qingge himself. Liu Qingge is not one to dwell where it will do him no good, so whatever that qi deviation did to Shen Qingqiu, Liu Qingge can only suppose he should be glad of it.

Shen Qingqiu is still thin faced and unwilling to put down the fan that hides his face. But Liu Qingge is learning to see over the edges and read between the lines. Shen Qingqiu is now a comfortable sort of constant in his life, Qing Jing greens have begun to seep into his Bai Zhan blues.

It’s annoyingly endearing, the way Shen Qingqiu accentuates his descriptions and stories with sweeping gestures or, much more rarely, sound effects (he always flushes a delicate pink when he does that, like he forgot his usual aloof peak lord persona for a second). Liu Qingge gets this tightening in his own chest, when Shen Qingqiu’s face lights up with a smile or he huffs out a laugh.

One such smile graces Shen Qingqiu’s lips now, as he follows Liu Qingge back to his house on Bai Zhan with a large egg in hand. The egg is about the size of Liu Qingge’s head, and is a deep blue color. Shen Qingqiu is quite taken with it.

“This is an incredibly rare find!” Shen Qingqiu peers with undivided reverence, cradling it carefully with his delicate fingers as if it’s the most precious thing in the world.

Liu Qingge’s fingers twitched towards the other’s sleeve before he thinks better of it and retracted his hand. “Watch out,” he said instead, pointing out the rock in the other man’s path.

“-incredibly valuable - don’t worry, I won’t trip - Luminescent Silkdragon’s egg.” Liu Qingge raises one doubtful eyebrow and nearly scoffs, having witnessed just that on multiple occasions. 

This clumsiness, too, is something that he’s only begun to see in recent days and which does a lot to undo the peak lord’s untouchable immortal image. Liu Qingge is tempted to comment on this, if only to see how the other man will sputter indignantly and deny his claims with a blush he can’t hide with his fan, or the way he would scramble to reassemble to pieces of that lofty mask of his. It’s a very entertaining pass time that Liu Qingge almost never passes up the opportunity for, but this time he decides not to mention it. 

“Dragon? That didn’t look like a dragon.” He says, giving the other a little fuel for his tangent. Liu Qingge had fought dragons before; demonic ones, heavenly ones, probably some other ones too, at some point. None of them had looked like that.

The “Luminescent Silkdragon”, so Shen Qingqiu has deemed it, had been an unexpected adversary on a scavenging mission for some rare crystals in the caves up north. They two of them had entered the cave and gathered the crystals just fine, but the getting out proved to be a more difficult task. 

An enormous, squishy, serpentine creature that glowed an eerie blue had burst out of the water and nearly collapsed the cave on them. Liu Qingge had quickly drawn Cheng Luan and made to kill the thing, but Shen Qingqiu insisted it meant no harm, as he is often wont to do these days. Shen Qingqiu had been so distressed over it that Liu Qingge had no choice but to let it go.

“Well, it’s more like a giant silkworm, but it earned its dragon title from its powerful magic and large size.” Shen Qingqiu casts him a sideways glance. “They’re inherently peaceful creatures, but they’ll defend their territory if they feel threatened.”

Shen Qingqiu looks back at the egg with sparkling eyes. A lock of inky hair falls in front of Shen Qingqiu’s face and brushes his delicate nose. Shen Qingqiu scrunches his nose in irritation, he puffs a breath of air to blow it out of the way. It falls back immediately.

Cute.

Liu Qingge’s fingers twitch to brush it behind his ear. He looks away quickly, feeling the need to cut off that foreign and uncomfortable train of thought quickly.

“The egg of a Luminescent Silkdragon is said to contain a thousand wonders of nature. Used correctly, one should be able to obtain countless mythical plants of limitless value.”

“What, it’s not another worm?”

“No, it’s not another worm.”

Then where do the worms come from?

By the time they’ve arrived at Liu Qingge’s house, he still doesn’t know where the worms come from. 

Shen Qingqiu sits at the (very dusty) tea table and sets the egg carefully in his lap before looking around. Liu Qingge doesn’t know what they’re supposed to do now, so sits down too, a little surprised. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t usually stay.

Liu Qingge is suddenly struck by the fact that it feels strange to sit down in his own home. Granted, he doesn’t spend much time there.

Most of his time is spent away on solo missions for Yue Qingyuan, although those have lessened in the past year or so, so even his peak doesn’t see much of him. When Liu Qingge isn’t away, he spends his time training in every spare moment wherever he can, everywhere but his house. The rest of his day time is devoted to sect leader business. In the night time, Liu Qingge dedicates himself to cultivating and meditating or, if he gets restless (which is to say, most of the time), he’ll go night hunting.

As such, dust covers nearly every surface and miscellaneous items from previous night hunts are strewn about haphazardly. The shelves are nearly bare and his kitchen is completely empty.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t seem to mind, but Liu Qingge is ninety percent sure that it’s only because the other man is so enamored with that egg, and therefore unable to perceive the mess. Otherwise, Liu Qingge would be chewed out ruthlessly for the state of things.

For a long time, Shen Qingqiu just sits and stares at the egg in his lap without saying anything, looking very eager. Liu Qingge finds is difficult to do anything but sit in the companionable silence and allow himself this break. He has so little energy that even his thoughts are subdued and quiet. 

Eventually, Shen Qingqiu becomes restless, if the shaking of his knee is anything to go by.

“What are you looking for?” Liu Qingge's voice comes out soft and low. His posture has fallen into something lazy; elbow propped up on the table, hand cupping his chin, and legs crossed beneath him. It all very much opposes his usual behavior — he doesn’t usually allow himself this kind of slack — but it’s also very nice and wow, he is really, very tired.

“Silkdragon eggs are a once in a lifetime kind of discovery,” Shen Qingqiu furrows his elegant brows.

“And?” 

Shen Qingqiu stands suddenly, depositing the egg in Liu Qingge’s lap, to his immense displeasure. He had been comfortable.

“I don’t want to miss it.”

“Miss what?”

But the other man has already walked away, and doesn’t hear him. “Does Liu-shidi have any tea?” Shen Qingqiu asks, and makes his way to the kitchen.

Liu Qingge doesn't. He doesn’t have much of anything in his house. He says as much, to Shen Qingqiu’s incredible disappointment and shock. Shen Qingqiu sits back down with a huffy “How can you not even have tea?”

Liu Qingge ignores him. He has very little energy for banter today.

Shen Qingqiu’s frown deepen’s further. “… Are you alright?” The question is neither accusing or taunting, only tinted with light concern in the scholar’s smooth voice.

“Mn.” Liu Qingge assures, because he is alright. What reason would he have not to be?

“…Alright,” Shen Qingqiu has brought out his fan and is fluttering it in front of his nose. This one is made of a pale wood and is painted with a tasteful mountain scene (he doesn’t know if it’s tasteful or not, but assumes it must be if it’s Shen Qingqiu’s), a thin red tassel hangs from the end. Liu Qingge narrows his eyes at it, thinking it was better when Shen Qingqiu’s hands were occupied, “do you have anywhere moist we can put the egg for now?”

“Why don’t you take it to your own peak?”

“Qing Jing is currently suffering from an infestation of Withering Moon Ivy.” He waves his fan dismissively, but his expression is woeful. “It would be safer to keep the egg somewhere else until we have it under control. Withering Moon Ivy is incredibly invasive and we can’t risk it sapping the energy of the egg. It shouldn’t be too long.”

Liu Qingge grunts in response and stands. He glances from the egg in his hands to Shen Qingqiu before unceremoniously depositing it in the smaller man’s arms. He doesn’t snicker while he does it, but it’s a near thing. 

Shen Qingqiu makes a disgruntled noise, having to drop his fan to catch the egg. “Ah, be careful!” 

If Liu Qingge feels any satisfaction seeing that annoying fan on the ground, well, that’s his own business.

Anyone with eyes knows that Shen Qingqiu has a nice face. Liu Qingge has no idea why he’s so determined to cover it up all the time.

Liu Qingge opens the door to the yard and gestures for Shen Qingqiu to walk through it

“Liu-shidi, you have a garden?” Shen Qingqiu has no fan to hide his shocked expression upon seeing his yard. This distracts Liu Qingge from the offense that he should take at the incredulous tone. 

He grunts in response, crossing his arms. He hasn’t actually seen the garden for months now, having been busy with missions.

“Liu-shidi, your garden is dead.” A pitying expression paints the scholar’s face, and Liu Qingge suddenly feels a touch embarrassed, which makes no sense. Liu Qingge couldn’t care less about that garden.

The yard is covered in browning plants and tall weeds. For the most part, it’s completely dry, save for the patches of muddy ground that are closer to the stream. It is, in fact, incredibly dead.

“This is so sad.” Shen Qingqiu says seriously, looking him right in the eye.

Liu Qingge coughs and looks away. “Just do what you need to do.”

With no small amount of rummaging and weeding, Shen Qingqiu finally finds a spot that strikes him as satisfactory up against the trunk of a large tree and beside a clearer part of the stream. “Alright. Oh, but can you ask one of your disciples to fetch a crate? It likes to be in semi-enclosed spaces, similar to it’s cave environment.”

Before long, Shen Qingqiu has situated the egg just how he wants it and the sun is beginning to set. He sets off to his own peak with some firm last words.

“Whatever you do, don’t move it.” Shen Qingqiu says it with an earnest look on his face that makes something amused and equally soft bubble up in Liu Qingge’s chest.

Liu Qingge agrees with the ghost of a smile and bids his martial brother goodnight.

Seeing as the strange egg is so important, Liu Qingge chooses his garden as his place of meditation that night. He sits himself down on his porch, facing the glowing egg and settles down for his night of meditation.

 

.

 

Shen Qingqiu wakes with a start that nearly launches him out of bed when something pounds heavily at the door. He gets out of bed, quickly shaking off sleep as he rushes out of his room, pulling on a light sleeping robe as he does.

“Shizun?” Shen Qingqiu’s puppy-like disciple rubs his eyes as he comes into the hall. “What’s going on?”

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t get the chance to answer before the door bursts open, startling a jump out of both him and his disciple, one war god stepping through. 

A deadpan look paints Shen Qingqiu’s face. He supposes he should at least be impressed the other man knocked at all.

Liu Qingge looks as solemn as ever, if a little wind swept. He’s not wearing sleeping robes, per se, but it’s not armor, so that’s probably as close as it gets. His robes are still Bai Zhan’s blues, but lacking the usual metal embellishments, the material looks thick and tidy, hugging the war god’s sculpted muscles and broad shoulders in a flattering way. 

“Shishu?!” Luo Binghe’s voice squeaks out, incredulous. Poor thing is going through puberty, his voice cracks have been endlessly entertaining for Shen Qingqiu, but torturous for his disciple. Binghe’s eyes narrow immediately at the War God. “Don’t you know it’s rude to enter someone’s house like this? And in the middle of the night, no less? What were you planning on-”

“Out of my way, brat.” Liu Qingge places a hand on Luo Binghe’s fluffy head and moves him out of the way. Luo Binghe squawks and explodes into a furious blush. 

Shen Qingqiu is so lucky to have such a cute, loyal disciple. He’s like a little guard dog. He ruffles Luo Binghe’s hair fondly when the disciple retreats to hide behind his legs, guided by his hand.

“Liu-shidi?” Shen Qingqiu tries not to think about his current state of dress, and dearly wishes that he thought to grab his fan in his scramble. “What brings you here at this hour?”

“The egg,” he says simply, “there’s something wrong with it.” This, Shen Qingqiu takes to mean, something terrible has happened.

The other peak lord then turns his heel and walks away swiftly with Shen Qingqiu close behind, firmly telling his disciple to stay put. Before Liu Qingge can take off flying, Shen Qingqiu snags a sleeve, trying to get him to slow down.

“Liu-shidi seems agitated, is everything alright?” Could whatever happened with the egg be that bad?

"Keep up." Liu Qingge says gruffly when Shen Qingqiu starts to fall behind.

“It wouldn’t be a problem if someone hadn’t woken me in the middle of the night.”

“Blame your worm egg.”

“Luminescent Silkdragon— will you slow down?” Shen Qingqiu corrects. His martial brother never could keep track of beasts.

Cheng Luan clutched firmly in hand, Liu Qingge does not look at him, rather focusing on something past his shoulder.

By nature, Liu Qingge is a straight forward person. He doesn’t like to beat around the bush or sugar coat his words. This is something Shen Qingqiu greatly appreciates in a world of cryptic prophesies and elusive wisemen.

Cagey is something Liu Qingge is not. So what’s going on with him now that he’s acting so weird?

He really hopes his martial brother isn’t mad at him. Because they only just settled into this weird but comfortable teammate dynamic the Shen Qingqiu actually really likes. He would be really sad if he fucked that up somehow.

“What happened?” He asks again, “I’m sure it’s fine, whatever it is. There’s no need to be so nervous.” Shen Qingqiu lowers his hand with the most meaningful look he can conjure with his sleep deprived eyes.

Liu Qingge clears his throat and nods shifting from side to side. Shen Qingqiu watches in feint curiosity, he’s never seen The Bai Zhan lord act like this. “It… exploded.”

“What?”

Chapter 2

Shen Qingqiu is dangerous.

Liu Qingge is trying hard to stay focused right now, but the other peak lord is right there, in his sleeping robes, hair loose, face free of his usual lofty mask.

The sleeping robes Shen Qingqiu wears don’t look like they can withstand the cold, but the Qing Jing lord looks comfortable anyhow. They are white and made of thin material that billows in the wind, ever so slightly catching the moon so he looks like he’s glowing. Is it silk? Liu Qingge thinks it’s probably silk. That seems like the type of thing Shen Qingqiu would go for.

Gone is the silver guan or jade pin that usually holds back the Shen Qingqiu’s long, inky black hair, now free to sway behind him elegantly. Even in his night clothes, without his resplendent peak lord robes, Shen Qingqiu looks like a painting; ever graceful and delicately poised.

The image would be much more elegant, however, if Shen Qingqiu wasn’t falling asleep on his sword. Liu Qingge hasn’t had many night hunts with Shen Qingqiu that lasted overnight; both of them make for an efficient team, there isn’t much they can’t get done in a day. But the few times they’ve had to camp or stay at an inn unexpectedly, Liu Qingge experienced first hand Shen Qingqiu’s moodiness from lack of sleep.

While it might have been irritating at one point, Liu Qingge can no longer say that is still true. 

Shen Qingqiu blinks blearily and scowls into the night, as if offended he has to exists even then. His lower lip has bunched up into an undeniable pout that he never would have let slip had the sun been out. Liu Qingge huffs at his companion’s grumpiness.

As they fly, Liu Qingge catches a glimpse of a pale, slender neck and sharp collarbone that is usually hidden by high collars and long hair. He doesn’t know why the sight draws him in. 

Shen Qingqiu’s face had relaxed now, the lines of his brows soften and the moonlight catches his high cheekbones. His loose hair swirls around him and, without thinking, Liu Qingge is reaching out to tuck it behind one delicate ear. Liu Qingge remembers himself abruptly and yanks his hand back.

Suddenly, Liu Qingge feels terribly ashamed. He doesn’t know why. When he glances over to Shen Qingqiu again, he feels a blush creep up his cheeks and pounding in his chest.

When they land, Liu Qingge marches quickly along to keep himself from further distraction, ignoring his martial brother’s concerned questions.

 

.

 

According to Shen Qingqiu, the egg has not exploded, but hatched, and yes, Liu-shidi, it’s definitely supposed to do that. 

Liu Qingge isn’t so dense not to know that eggs are supposed to hatch. But usually they hatch animals, not a variety of glowing blue fungi and an assortment of other glowing vines and flowers. All over his back yard

Seemingly oblivious to Liu Qingge’s displeased scowl, Shen Qingqiu is suddenly incredibly excited. The other peak lord flits quickly from plant to plant with a focused furrow in his brow, extending gentle fingers to stroke the leaves of plant he deems safe and small sticks to ones that aren’t. It becomes obvious very quickly that Liu Qingge will not be getting much rest tonight.

The egg has split into two jagged halves, both of which are overflowing with vegetation, most of which is glowing a peculiar blue color. Crouching carefully in front of what remains of the shell, Shen Qingqiu leans in close with wide, wondering eyes, excitement barely contained.

It strikes Liu Qingge for the second time that night that he has never seen Qing Jing’s scholarly peak lord in such a state. He feels a tug at the corner of his lips when Shen Qingqiu lets out a barely audible gasp at something Liu Qingge can’t see, likely too tired to bother filtering himself. 

Without looking up from the plant, Shen Qingqiu extends his hand palm up in Liu Qingge’s direction. “Shidi, do you have any paper and something to write with?"

With a grunt, Liu Qingge retreats into his house to reach for the other man’s items. It takes a fair bit of searching, but eventually he rustles up a wrinkled scroll that’s mostly blank and a stick of charcoal. He returns to the back yard to deposit them in Shen Qingqiu’s waiting hands, who mutters a quick “thank you” before he begins to scratch away.

Liu Qingge drinks in the sight of Shen Qingqiu’s disheveled state. His hair, which is usually pin strait and neatly pinned back, is slightly unkempt, slipping over his shoulder as he observes one plant or another. Whether from sleep or the flight here, Liu Qingge doesn’t know. Long fingers stained with charcoal nudge the hair back over his shoulder and out of the way of his writing.

The bleariness in Shen Qingqiu’s eyes that had persisted through their flight, then grumpiness after landing, has been replaced by a gentle spark of excitement that lights up his face. 

In recent days, it wouldn’t be incorrect to say Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu have gotten closer, what with all the extra missions. Liu Qingge has still not given up on the occasional demand to spar, and Shen Qingqiu accepts more easily every time. With all of this additional proximity, Liu Qingge has become privy to some of the icy Qing Jing lord’s more human facets. Though not as much as a certain An Ding peak lord. 

Liu Qingge frowns at the thought; those two had suddenly become extremely close over the span of just days. The way they communicate is lost on just about everyone else in the sect, but it’s obvious how comfortable Shen Qingqiu becomes around the other; able to openly laugh and smile in a way he doesn’t when the other peak lords are present. 

A year ago, Liu Qingge couldn’t have cared less about the other Peak Lord’s mannerisms or the way he smiles. Shen Qingqiu was simply someone he couldn’t stand and didn’t care to know in the slightest. But something has changed since then, not just in the scholar, but in the War God too. Indifference on his part has given way to an insatiable curiosity. 

More and more, Liu Qingge has been able to see a bigger range of expressions on his martial brother’s face, he thinks. Where before it seemed like Shen Qingqiu didn’t feel any emotions other than spite and bloodlust, now it only felt like he was only hiding them. Liu Qingge is getting better at interpreting Shen Qingqiu’s behaviors; like his habit of tilting his head to the side when confused, or how he gesticulates more with his fan when he gets excited.  

Otherwise, it is also clear that Shen Qingqiu is no longer so careful about keeping up his mask when he’s with Liu Qingge. His fan no longer covers his face quite as often, although he is still quite limited in the way of facial expressions. A surprising playfulness has made an entrance into their interactions that Liu Qingge doesn’t quite know how to respond to, and the scholarly lord will often devolve into long, passionate rants about some interesting beast or another, momentarily abandoning his cold persona. Liu Qingge has developed a strange satisfaction in getting to know these little mannerisms and habits.

Still, he has never seen these particular expressions before. Liu Qingge is certain he would never have seen them had the sun been in the sky. So he is glad, then, for the moon.

A soft laugh escapes Shen Qingqiu at something he says and Liu Qingge finds himself wanting to hear it again. He wants to hear all Shen Qingqiu’s little utterings. Thinks he’ll miss them when they disappear tomorrow.

But for now, Shen Qingqiu lets appreciative hums and delighted little intakes of breath slip past his lightly smiling lips, and Liu Qingge hangs on to every one with rapt attention. Some sensation winds its way up into Liu Qingge’s chest that he can’t describe, but it leaves him feeling restless and slightly too warm.

Soon, Liu Qingge’s eyes begin to stray. The thin silk of Shen Qingqiu’s night robes leaves much less to the imagination than his layers of peak lord finery of the day, and Liu Qingge’s eyes find the dip of Shen Qingqiu’s pale collar bone peak out from his lapels. His gaze wanders further, and trails down to the planes of delicate shoulder blades, then along the smooth curve of his spine to where the tie is cinched around a small waist. 

Liu Qingge wonders briefly if he could close his fingers around that waist, what it would be like trace the lines of those muscles with his fingers. He wondered if Shen Qingqiu would squirm as he did. In a daze, his gaze drops even lower, to the full curve of-

Liu Qingge raises one hand and slaps himself across the face with a resounding smack! 

He chases away those thoughts with a panic even the strongest of monsters could never evoke from him. Heat is rising quickly to his face despite his best efforts to fight it off.

There is undoubtedly something wrong with him. Perhaps something to do with one of these new plants. Vaguely, Liu Qingge thinks he’s encountered a plant that had a similar effect before. 

…Maybe a visit to Mu Qingfang first thing tomorrow wouldn’t be a bad idea.

“Shidi?” Shen Qingqiu looks up at him with a bewildered expression, one brow raised in askance. 

Liu Qingge swallows and looks away, frustrated when that heat washed over him again. He very pointedly does not think about how big Shen Qingqiu’s eyes look from this angle, how soft his skin looks in the moonlight. He shakes his head with a jerk, banishing the disturbing thoughts to the darkest depths of his mind with aggression.

“Are you alright?” Shen Qingqiu asks, attention finally ripped from the plants littering the yard. 

Liu Qingge offers another grunt in response, not trusting his words. Apparently it’s not convincing enough. 

Shen Qingqiu purses his lips briefly in thought, searching Liu Qingge’s face for something. “I suppose it is quite late.” He looks mournfully at the twisting vine he hadn’t gotten to sketch yet. “This one should let his Shidi get some rest.”

There’s already a retort on his lips. Who’s tired? Shen Qingqiu is the one that needs rest, Liu Qingge has seen him stifle no less than four yawns (unsuccessfully).

But in truth, Liu Qingge is actually very tired, having just returned from a mission, before which he’d gone on a week long excursion to track down an evil cultivator. He hasn’t slept in almost two weeks. He takes comfort in that thought. Maybe his lack of sleep is to blame for his off-ness.

Shen Qingqiu stands and brushes off his robes, tucking the scroll under his arm. “Be very careful with everything back here, please don’t touch anything until I can identify all the specimen.” 

Usually, Liu Qingge would be argue at being ordered around, but his mind is elsewhere at the moment, so he only hums in solemn agreement and finds himself growing more tired by the minute.

The moon has long gone by the time the Qing Jing lord flies back to his own peak with some parting words that go right over Liu Qingge’s groggy head. The air is cool and crisp against his face at he watches Shen Qingqiu’s figure become a blur in the distance. Liu Qingge’s cultivation is high enough that the lack of light doesn’t impair his sight, but the dimness settles like a blanket over him, lulling him into sleepiness.

Dragging his feet through his house, he kicks off his socks and outer robe before collapsing into bed. Sleep takes him quickly, dreams filled with pale greens and echos of a soft, familiar laugh. 

 

.

 

Liu Qingge had not intended to wake until late the next day. He is sorely disappointed when a commotion foils his plan. 

Feeling exceptionally groggy and irritable, Liu Qingge drags himself out of bed, preparing to give whatever disciple is outside the scolding of a lifetime and an assignment of twenty laps around the peak. Any Bai Zhan disciple worth their salt knows not to disturb their peak lord on a sleep day (or any day, to be perfectly honest). 

Without bothering to remove his sleeping robes, Liu Qingge throws open the door and marches out to the gate, where he sees a figure wrapped in green swarmed by shorter disciples in blue. He blinks. What is Shen Qingqiu doing here?

Currently surrounded by a gaggle of Bai Zhan disciples, Shen Qingqiu looks an amusing blend of distressed and cautious, holding a woven basket tightly. From what Liu Qingge can see, he is attempting to get past them and towards Liu Qingge’s house, they are doing their utmost to prevent that.

“Please let this master pass,” Shen Qingqiu says, with all the conviction of someone who has already made the same plea and knows it won’t work. 

Liu Qingge huffs once in amusement, watching from just outside his door, his grouchiness mostly forgotten. 

“No!” One of Liu Qingge’s brats stretches out his arms as if to block the green-clad lord from passing. “It’d a sleep day, don’t you know?” Evidently, Shen Qingqiu does not.

“Everyone knows you can’t disturb Shizun on a sleep day.” Another disciple says, arms spread out in a similar manner. The group of them all move as one whenever Shen Qingqiu attempts to get past them.

Shen Qingqiu looks very much like he wants to have misheard. “A what day?” He says, confirming.

“A sleep day.” The boy says again, seriously.

The look of aggrieved disbelief on the peak lord’s face is somehow still elegant in a way Liu Qingge is sure only he can achieve. “What sleep day?” He demands, “No one needs to sleep for a whole day, it’s not healthy.” He tells them so with a serious look as he leans down to be sure they get the message. 

At this, the disciples glance amongst each other, confused by this.

So is Liu Qingge. What’s wrong with sleeping for a whole day? It’s more efficient to stock up on all your sleep at once, then you can go for longer afterwards. 

“Unhealthy?” The boy’s arms drop to his sides, mission forgotten. “Why? Then you don’t need to sleep later, isn’t that good?” This disciple gets it.

Shen Qingqiu sets down his basket, looking very, very tired. “Please tell me you Bai Zhan disciples are sleeping every night.” 

Liu Qingge rolls his eyes from the safety of his doorway. What a ridiculous idea. No one needs that much sleep. On that note, Liu Qingge decides his sluggishness is gone and decides to clean himself up while they’re busy. 

He takes a small amount of pleasure at keeping his fellow peak lord waiting. Consider it revenge for waking him up.

The War God never takes long to get ready in the mornings, having streamlined his routine into the most efficient one possible so he can start training by sunrise. He changes out of his sleeping robes and tossed them onto his bed without bothering to fold them (what’s the point when they wont leave the house?), then changes into his usual fare of whites and muted blues before sweeping his hair into a high pony tail, secured by a simple silver guan.

It takes him a couple minutes longer than usual, to Liu Qingge’s disappointment. He has to admit that he’s still feeling somewhat sluggish, but nothing he can’t handle. He begins toward the door and just reaches the handle when he pauses. 

He glances around the house. His outer robe is lying on the floor by the table, which is covered in a myriad of weapons he’d been sharpening last week and forgotten to put away. All in all, it’s a mess. But that’s the normal state of things for him; never in the house enough to concern himself with clutter, he tends to use the house more as storage than a place for living. But he can already hear Shen Qingqiu’s voice in his ears, Shidi lives like this?

Liu Qingge quickly shoves the mess on the floor underneath a shelf and throws his robe into his bedroom. Briefly, he wonders when he started to care what Shen Qingqiu of all people thought about his place of living. Then he gathers all the knives and arrowheads on the table into his arms and looks from side to side, trying to think of a place to put them. He settles on tossing them onto his bed for now.

Then, just by the back door, he spots a thin red tassel that he knows is attached to a certain scholar’s fan.

Even as he huffs a sigh, Liu Qingge strides across the room and stoops to pick it up, not really as annoyed as he wants to be. His martial brother really is so forgetful.

Notes:

I have no idea what the chapter count on this is going to be, maybe somewhere around ten. This fic kinda got away from me

Chapter 3

Notes:

Slightly longer chapter for you this time. I had fun writing SQQ in this one:))

Shen Qingqiu thinks it’s a miracle the Bai Zhan disciples are still alive.

This morning, Shen Qingqiu had woken up in a good mood, excited to observe the Silkdragon’s egg in more detail. He can hardly remember the little fiasco last night, and his notes are hardly legible.

Arriving on Bai Zhan Peak sometime mid-morning, Shen Qingqiu is quickly swarmed by a gaggle of blue clad disciples, about thirteen to fourteen years old. From them he learns of this peak’s atrocious sleeping schedules. From what he can gather, they sleep only when they become too tired to keep training, and it doesn’t matter as long as they’re on time for their practice sessions with the senior disciples in the morning.

Shen Qingqiu asks what they do when they’re not training and they give him a blank stare. His heart breaks for these poor children, who don’t even have time to rest.

Surely they aren’t training their bodies all day, he presses. He reminds them it’s dangerous to continue physical training for extended periods of time without breaks.

They scoff, seeming doubtful at this, and Shen Qingqiu benevolently doesn’t point out their lack of manners towards a peak lord again. They tell him that, obviously they don’t fight all day, they have to practice meditation and cultivate their cores, too! Then they have free time.

It still seems like a lot to have to do in one day for children this age, but Shen Qingqiu is relieved that they have at least a bit of free time. “And how much free time do you get?”

Another scoff, like they’re annoyed at his criticism of their peak. “We get all night!”

Shen Qingqiu blinks.

All night.

So, really, they don’t have any free time at all! What is this?! They called the original goods an abuser but this was apparently fine?

“But you must be tired at that point, don’t you want to sleep?” Really, Shen Qingqiu shouldn’t be pushing this as much as he is. Peak lords aren’t supposed pry too much into the inner workings of other peaks out of courtesy. It’s like an unspoken rule.

But Shen Qingqiu is going to get to the bottom of this.

The kids tell him they go hunt in the woods further down the peak (which is absurdly dangerous), or hang out somewhere else to play (they don’t tell him where, he suspects they don’t want their secret spots to be discovered). These kids have been left entirely to their own devices without any kind of structure. The most guidance they get is from their senior martial brothers and sisters. Shen Qingqiu thinks they must be incredibly disciplined to enforce their own education like this.

What hard working children! Shen Qingqiu is amazed.

Of course, Shen Qingqiu leaves the teaching to his own senior disciples for some of his classes, but they all follow a curriculum designed by him and he makes sure to check in frequently. His disciples have a fixed schedule to their day that ensures meal times as well as free time.

On his own peak, Shen Qingqiu makes the importance of sleep abundantly clear; his students are to get at least eight hours of sleep a night. If this stems from his own desire to sleep in every day, no one else has to know. Besides, it really is healthy. On Qing Jing, there is also a little time set aside every day for disciples to do as they please and relax. Now that Shen Qingqiu was a teacher, he was going to make sure he took advantage of it to his full power and give those kids a healthy lifestyle.

Such a misconception calls for an immediate intervention. Thus, Shen Qingqiu sets down his basket.

Within half an incense stick’s time, Shen Qingqiu is sitting on a conveniently placed stump with the Bai Zhan kids gathered around his feet like sheep, looking up at him with bright eyes as he explains the importance of having a good sleep schedule.

He’d thought it would be a tougher battle to fight, but they were convinced quickly after he told them sleep would make them stronger.

“It is good to get into the habit of going to sleep around the same time every night. Doing this with help you to build a good circadian rhythm. Do any of you know this one?” Shen Qingqiu glances around them expectantly. They shake their heads. “A circadian rhythm is how your body keeps track of time, when to sleep and when to wake. If you train your body to sleep and wake at the same time every day, it will become second nature.”

Is it okay to introduce something like “circadian rhythm” in this ancient xianxia setting? Is it even a thing yet? Shen Qingqiu doesn’t know. He sees a few of the kids mouthing the words to themselves, like they don’t want to forget them, which is completely adorable.

As much as Shen Qingqiu likes to call them “little brutes” or “mannerless beasts” or sometimes “gremlins”, he has to acknowledge the fact that Bai Zhan Peak disciples don’t do anything halfway. Like their master, they don’t have good manners, are somewhat aggressive and quick to violence, and like to disturb the peace on other peaks. But their tenacity and stubbornness is admirable when they’re not terrorizing Shen Qingqiu’s own kids.

But anyway, these kids want to learn, and by god, Shen Qingqiu is gonna teach them.

Frankly though, he’s shocked they’re willing to listen to the Qing Jing peak lord of all people, given their peaks’ rivalries. Perhaps these ones are too young to put stock into that yet.

“If you sleep at irregular times every night, it will become difficult to fall asleep or regulate your sleep.” Shen Qingqiu pauses to allow the kids to process the new information. A hand raises in the back. “You have a question…?”

“Yes! This one is Lu Wei!” The boy proclaims. He is the kind of loud that is neither joyful nor angry, only earnest. He looks to be around Binghe’s age, with a short brown pony tail, and big, round eyes.

Shen Qingqiu lets a small smile slip from behind his mask, charmed. “Does Lu Wei have a question?”

Lu Wei preens, visibly brightening despite having a totally strait face. “Yes, Shibo. If you have trouble sleeping, can you knock yourself out instead of having to build a… cycle? Rhythm.”

The rest of the disciples hum in consideration and agreement.

The question is troubling at best, and so is the reaction across the board, but Shen Qingqiu takes care not to let it show and accidentally discourage others from asking questions.

“Good question,” he has to take out his fan now, still incredulous at the suggestion of knocking oneself out for the sake of falling asleep. Truly, these Bai Zhan disciples are another breed. “falling unconscious in such a way is not an effective method of sleeping. Concussing oneself can, in fact, do damage to your brain and is never advisable. Unconsciousness as a product of injury or poison is not restful and cannot replace sleep.”

“And we’ll really get stronger if we sleep well?”

“Yes, providing you body with quality rest will improve both your physical and mental health.”

Lu Wei nods and settles back down, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Really, what good students! How diligent! Liu Qingge is missing out on teaching these kids.

Honestly?? Shen Qingqiu loves teaching. This is great.

As soon as his Shidi finally comes out of his house, his disciples give him a low bow and run away immediately, to Shen Qingqiu’s relief. Those kids are really too filial for having a master who doesn’t teach them.

They’re so eager to learn, too! Look at how they just sat in front of him for so long, absorbing his words like little blue sponges. Too cute. They deserve better than their elusive war god master. Shen Qingqiu lights a candle in his heart for their tragically uneven education.

Shen Qingqiu tries not to let himself get angry at Liu Qingge, after all, he’s only passing down what he himself learned. Besides, his own sleep schedule is likely much worse than those of his charges.

“Shidi,” Shen Qingqiu retrieves his basket from the ground, “do you really go weeks without sleeping?”

Liu Qingge grunts his affirmation, looking distracted. Shen Qingqiu wants to cry.

“Liu Qingge,” the man in question look unimpressed by his teacher voice, “please, fix your sleeping schedule.”

.

For some reason, Shen Qingqiu has suddenly become dedicated to the improvement of Liu Qingge’s sleeping habits. The scholar marches toward his house with fire in his eyes and begins his lecture immediately.

“Shidi,” He says, scoldingly, and Liu Qingge is already rolling his eyes, “you have to sleep regularly in order to be healthy!” So he’s said already.

“Waste of time.” Liu Qingge has a headache, and so his sentences are even shorter than usual.

“I thought you cared about being at peak physical health?” The tone is accusing but lacks any actual bite. Instead, there’s concern there that Liu Qingge still hasn’t quite learned not to doubt after years of mocking and spite.

“I’m healthy.” As he says so, Liu Qingge’s head throbs once particularly strongly, as if to point out how not healthy he’s feeling.

Liu Qingge grumbles under his breath. He feels weak. He hates that. He ignores the pounding in his head and walks with extra strong strides.

Shen Qingqiu gives him a confused side eye which quickly turns into an exasperated glare. Shen Qingqiu is quite a bit shorter than he is and has to jog a bit to catch up. “Shidi,” he growls, "slow down.” His face most definitely screws up into a frustrated pout that Liu Qingge desperately wants to see, but it would ruin the fun to look.

Liu Qingge holds back a snicker. That made him feel a little better. He pulls this stunt often, and it’s funny every time.

It’s not until they sit down at the recently cleared table in Liu Qingge’s living room that he finally gets to know what’s in Shen Qingqiu’s basket.

“I assumed you might not have the tools we need.” Shen Qingqiu says as he pulls various gardening tools to demonstrate. Oh, that makes sense.

Liu Qingge watches his martial brother’s face for any reactions at the cleanliness of his house, feeling strangely apprehensive. Mercifully, nothing is said about the dust everywhere or the scuffs all over the floors (from when Liu Qingge learned it’s not a good idea to train with swords inside, no matter how bored you are). Shen Qingqiu does avoid letting his sleeves brush over the wood of the table, though, and he runs a curious finger over a gash in the floor beside him. But he doesn’t ask, so Liu Qingge doesn’t have to tell.

Shen Qingqiu tells him that, now that the egg has hatched, there’s pretty much no moving everything that came out of it, so their only choice is take care of them on Bai Zhan. This is somewhat of a complication, given that gardening is nothing close to Liu Qingge’s forte.

But not to worry, Shen Qingqiu assures him, “this Shixiong will help take care of everything!” Starting with turning Liu Qingge’s back yard into you could actually call a garden.

Mostly, Liu Qingge just thinks Shen Qingqiu is excited to fix his tragic yard and to have more plants to study.

In no time, they’re in the back yard again, carefully pulling weeds from around the new plants. It’s grueling and hot in the noonday sun. Liu Qingge can’t tell what he’s supposed to pick and what he’s supposed to leave alone. Several times now, he’s been startled into stillness by his martial brother’s alarmed shout. “Don’t touch that!” How was he supposed to know it was special? It looks like any other plant to him. Green and… plant-y. He doesn’t know.

After a few more such incidents, Liu Qingge is told instead to clear out one of the old beds that has nothing important in it. Shen Qingqiu explains that they should turn the soil there so they can plant other things there.

“What things?” Liu Qingge doesn’t want more plants to take care of.

“Just… things.” Shen Qingqiu waves his hand dismissively, “If you feel like it.”

Liu Qingge grumbles but grabs a shovel and moves toward the empty spot. He thinks he may have accepted this turn of event more easily than he should have.

After that, they settle into a comfortable silence and continue to work well into the afternoon. Excluding, of course, a break for lunch, which that guard dog disciple of Shen Qingqiu’s brought it upon himself to deliver. Making yet another commotion upon his arrival. The food was, admittedly, delicious, but it was far less enjoyable when he had to endure the glares on him the whole time.

The brat might not have left at all had his master not shooed him off, giving him some other task to distract him. What a strange kid.

Bellies full, they settle back into their silence. Shen Qingqiu asks at one point if Liu Qingge is feeling well, he seems a little mellow. Liu Qingge is perfectly fine. He says as much. Silence falls again.

Shen Qingqiu seems perfectly content as he pulls vine after vine from the dense earth of Liu Qingge’s peak. Liu Qingge hadn’t expected the scholar to have an affinity for something like gardening, which requires long hours of physical labor in the hot sun as well as getting dirty.

Shen Qingqiu still gathers his skirts carefully before he crouches down, so as to keep the pale fabric out of the mud, and he pulls the weeds with only the tips of his fingers, never touching his clothes or face without wiping them off on a nearby cloth. But there is green staining those fingers and dirt on the hems of his sleeves where they slipped down from pushing them up to his elbows. In preparation for the nature of their task today, Shen Qingqiu’s robes are in fewer layers and of rougher material (though only just, they are still expensive looking and elegant). Both of them have abandoned their outer robes. There is a thin sheen of sweat on Shen Qingqiu's pale skin and a relaxed note to his usual icy tune.

It suits him, Liu Qingge thinks, somehow.

As Shen Qingqiu is working, his hair slips over his shoulders, just barely avoiding the mud below. Again and again, Shen Qingqiu brushes it back only for it to fall down again seconds later. Why didn’t he put his hair up? Hi usual half-up style, while refined and elegant, isn’t suited for this kind of work.

Liu Qingge tries to ignore it and focus back on digging, but after the third time Shen Qingqiu has to stop what he’s doing to toss his head back and maneuver his long locks behind his back, Liu Qingge decides he can’t take it anymore.

It takes all of two seconds for Liu Qingge to march inside and back out again, right up to where Shen Qingqiu is working. The other man stops what he’s doing to look up at him from his crouch and cock his head to the side curiously.

Liu Qingge carefully doesn’t think about the way that makes him feel and shoves out a hand, in which is a long, dark blue ribbon.

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes linger on the ribbon as it sways in the breeze, then he looks back up to Liu Qingge, brow furrowed slightly in confusion.

“Your hair.” Liu Qingge thrusts the ribbon forward a little more.

A dawning look of realization comes over the other peak lord. His lips circle to form a little silent ‘o’ as he looks down as his hair, then back to Liu Qingge.

“Thank you,” Shen Qingqiu cleans off his hands in the stream and dries them on his robes (the cloth is too dirty, apparently) before taking the ribbon gingerly.

Briefly, Liu Qingge thinks he would like to put up Shen Qingqiu’s hair for him, but that is neither here nor there.

Then those lip stretch into a sly smile that Liu Qingge recognizes. “How considerate of you.” Liu Qingge regrets already. “I didn’t know Liu-shidi was so caring!” The ribbon dances in the air as Shen Qingqiu stands.

“If you don’t wan’t it, give it back. But your hair is impractical like this.” Liu Qingge moves to take the ribbon back, but Shen Qingqiu jerks his hand back out of his reach. The action lights something in dangerous in Liu Qingge, and there’s suddenly a funny feeling in his stomach that urges him forward.

“No, no! I want it!” Shen Qingqiu’s smile is a little wider than usual and his eyes are crinkling at the corners. He takes off his guan and gathers his hair in a practiced, sweeping motion, tying it up into a loose pony tail.

Liu Qingge has never seen the Qing Jing peak lord with his hair in a pony tail before, always in his signature half-up. His eyes fall to the curve of Shen Qingqiu’s elegant neck, pale skin glistening with sweat. The blue ribbon is draped over one shoulder, standing out against pale green.

Suddenly, Liu Qingge thinks he made a mistake.

“Liu-shidi is unexpectedly sweet.” Another teasing smile.

Restraint forgotten, Liu Qingge lunges forward, hand outstretched, meaning to snatch the ribbon. Shen Qingqiu was ready for it though, having egged him on precisely for this reaction, and jumps back to avoid him. He laughs, the same soft, melodious thing that always has Liu Qingge’s heart in a frenzy.

They lunge and dodge in tandem, circling each other in a practiced dance. Liu Qingge reach out a hand only for the other to sway just outside of his reach, twirling around him gracefully. Liu Qingge is undoubtedly stronger than the lord of the scholarly peak, but Shen Qingqiu is quick, his speed on par with Liu Qingge’s. Shen Qingqiu moves around him like water, when he makes a break to get away, Liu Qingge redirects his flow, making sure he doesn’t get too far.

It doesn’t take long for Liu Qingge to loose himself in the ease of this routine. All the heaviness he’s been feeling seeps out of his bones, the energy he’s been lacking taking its place.

Finally, Liu Qingge manages to back Shen Qingqiu up to the stream, giving him momentary pause. Before Shen Qingqiu has time to gather himself to make a move, Liu Qingge reaches out with a quick movement, securing the other’s wrist in a tight grasp. He yanks the wrist up high, dragging Shen Qingqiu in close until he’s unstable, and has to balance on his toes.

Liu Qingge’s eyes go wide, breath catching. Like this, they’re close enough that he can feel Shen Qingqiu’s breath on his face as he puffs to catch his breath, that he could count the eyelashes that frame his wide eyes and trace the curves of his face, unobscured by the dark waterfall of his hair. Liu Qingge aches inexplicably to curl his hand around Shen Qingqiu’s delicate waist and pull him in closer.

Instead his hand raises, reaching for the ribbon in Shen Qingqiu’s hair. His fingers only just brush the fabric when the stillness is broken and Shen Qingqiu startles with a barely audible intake of breath.

Shen Qingqiu leans back too quickly and, unable to balance, he topples back into the stream, dragging Liu Qingge with him.

Now Shen Qingqiu stares up at him with a shocked expression, mouth hanging open and eyes blown wide, cheeks flushed a fetching pink. He is soaked to the bone. Liu Qingge is positioned over him, one hand in the water by Shen Qingqiu’s hip and his knee on the other side, bracketing him in. Shen Qingqiu’s wrist is still firmly in his grasp.

With how many times he has lost his breath in the past minutes, Liu Qingge might as well stop breathing altogether.

Shen Qingqiu pushes himself slightly up out of the shallow water on his remaining free hand. His robes are sopping wet and cling to his shoulders and the lines of his chest, and trails of water trickle down his jaw and neck to pool in the dip of his clavicle. His dark hair is in disarray; his pony tail has slipped lower and strands of it have fallen out and now stick to his cheeks. The ribbon twists teasingly through his inky locks and is draped once again over his shoulder.

There is definitely something wrong with Liu Qingge. He stares for what feels like an eternity without moving until Shen Qingqiu begins to cough awkwardly.

Launching himself backward, Liu Qingge finally lets Shen Qingqiu get up. Liu Qingge closes his eyes and begins walking back to the house with the definitive conclusion that there is definitely something wrong with him.

His face is hot and his heart is a rabbit running. The image of Shen Qingqiu in that stream does not leave him for hours to come, and neither does the burning sensation.

Notes:

What do you think about the chapter lengths? Does this one feel too long or just about right? idk let me know what you think

Chapter 4

The morning light that filters through Shen Qingqiu’s window is far dimmer than it should be — than it has been since weeks ago. Thick vines wind their way up the outside of the bamboo cottage, covering most of the walls and windows, casting an admittedly nice greenish light over the room. It just makes it all that much harder to get out of bed.

When Shen Qingqiu emerges from the comfort of his room, having changed into his robes for the day and done his hair. He’s chosen a light outer robe today that flutters nicely in the wind, with subtle darker green detailing against his usual pale green. He’s picked a fan with dark wood, embroidered with a crane in flight. Breakfast is already waiting for him on the table. Binghe is rushing about, as per usual, making sure everything is spotless.

… Shen Qingqiu really should do something about that before it comes back to bite him in the future.

But for now, the breakfast congee is warm and perfectly seasoned, with bright spring onions garnishing the top. Who is Shen Qingqiu to turn down something his disciple made with his whole heart? He eats enthusiastically. 

“Binghe has lessons soon, does he not? Will he get there in time?” It’s hard to determine the position of the sun, what with the confounded Ivy overtaking his peak. 

Shen Qingqiu tilts his head and suppresses a frown when the hair done up in his elaborate guan pulls sharply in one spot. He resists the urge to tug at it and release the tension.

The disciple in question beams, kneeling properly before him. “Good morning, Shizun! This disciple is on ivy duty today, so there is plenty of time.”

‘Ivy duty’ is something they have recently had to undertake in response to the invasion of the Withering Moon. All disciples have been scheduled for a day where they do not attend their lectures in favor of working to remove the ivy from the peak. At the present time, ivy duty is the only thing holding the infestation at bay and protecting their more important gardens and buildings.

The vines of the Withering Moon Ivy are tough and very difficult to break without having to be too thick. The disciples without spiritual swords have to be provided with qi-infused saws, courtesy of Shang Qinghua. Really, Shen Qingqiu had asked for shears, but apparently those would take too much time to make and all that. If it’s young enough, the disciples can tear it out from the root with a burst of qi, so the saws are only needed for the worst of the worst. 

Withering Moon Ivy grows quickly if left to its own devices, feeding off of the spiritual energy in the surrounding area. Which is bad news for a peak with fengshui as exceptional as Qing Jing’s. In all honesty, it’s quite a pretty plant; with heart shaped leaves in shades of vibrant green that wind their way up anything they can with delicate vines. If they weren’t quite so invasive, Shen Qingqiu might have liked to keep some in a remote corner of the peak somewhere.

But alas, Withering Moon is the most invasive species of ivy there is, and it’s gotten so bad that it has become difficult to walk along the path to the dorms, there are vines creeping into the disciple’s rooms, and the weapon’s shed is completely inaccessible.

Shen Qingqiu has been pouring over the texts that he can find in the library pertaining to solutions for his particular situation to no avail. No avail, that is, until they came back with the Silkdragon’s egg. While gardening yesterday, Shen Qingqiu had spotted a plant that has been knows to help combat an invasion of Withering Moon: the Twin Suns’ Blessing.

Twin Suns’ Blessing is a plant that Shen Qingqiu had taken to be nothing more than a legend; said to bless the waters around it with incredible medicinal and life giving properties, such a plant is undoubtedly highly sought after. Until now, that seeking has been in vain for more than three hundred years.

It’s all very exciting. Shen Qingqiu plans to have a long chat with Mu Qingfang about it, him being the only other peak lord even remotely interested in botany. Botany buddies, if you will.

Forgetting himself somewhat, Shen Qingqiu nearly lets out a snicker at his little name (still better than Airplane’s naming skills) before remembering his company. He clears his throat and readjusts his features into cool indifference once again.

Shen Qingqiu frowns slightly as he pours his tea, ignoring the grabby hands that reach out to take the teapot for him. “This master thought Binge was on ivy duty yesterday. Was he not?”

“Shizun is right!” Binghe is always so energetic in the mornings, Shen Qingqiu flinches at the volume, then again when his hair pulls at the action. Binghe continues at a whisper which is somehow just as loud. “But this disciple volunteered to help again today.”

Whether this was a notable act of sacrifice for the sake of Binghe’s fellow classmates or because his lessons today were mostly calligraphy, Shen Qingqiu didn’t know. But he was well aware of his disciple’s lack of affection for that particular art and had a pretty good guess.

No matter how devoted his dear disciple is, he’s still just barely a teen.

“That’s very noble of you, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu sipped his tea, steeped to perfection as always, “but there is no need for you to sacrifice your studies. There are plenty of hands to help on this peak, you should attend your lessons today.”

Shen Qingqiu smiles smugly behind his teacup as Binghe wilted in a rare moment of open dissatisfaction at having lost his chance to avoid his least favorite class. Not to mention, if Binghe is removing the ivy around the bamboo house rather than attending his lessons, the sticky disciple can be that much closer to his Shizun, or so he reverently declares with wobbling eyes. Trying to fool this master? You've a few things yet to learn, disciple mine. 

Perhaps Shen Qingqiu has been indulging his disciple too much recently. Binghe start to let out sounds of protest along the lines of “Please, Shizun, this disciple only wishes to ease his Shizun’s burden!” The declaration is made with such big, teary eyes that Shen Qingqiu almost caves.

Then he remembers that this is for his own good. “Binghe should not skip his classes, or he will fall behind.” Shen Qingqiu stands and begins to shoo his disciple out the door, tapping his head with the tip of his closed fan. “Come, now. This master will see you when your lessons are over. Run along.”

Binghe leaves begrudgingly with a pout and a floppy lilt of his head that almost looks like— is that… sass?  Lou Binghe, ah, Lou Binghe. This master has truly spoiled you.

With  his sticky disciple finally gone, Shen Qingqiu laces his fingers and turns them outward, knuckles cracking with a satisfying sound.

Time to get to work.

Shen Qingqiu works through his papers methodically. Checking over reports and summaries of unattended meetings during the time he was gone for the mission is tedious, but not difficult. He pulls at the hair in his guan, annoyed at the continued tugging.

Next, he writes a letter to Mu Qingfang, requesting a meeting sometime soon. A discovery such as the Silkdragon’s eggs calls for a long conversation. Besides, Shen Qingqiu enjoys talking with Mu-shidi about plants. This, too, is completed quickly and set aside to be delivered.

About a shichen has passed and Shen Qingqiu is thoroughly fed up with his stupid hair piece. It’s a new one he’d been gifted by some wealthy lord he’d helped with a spider demon problem. It’s delicate and shiny, with intricate silver metalwork that apparently gets tangled in his hair easily. He decides he’s never going to wear it again.

Shen Qingqiu removes the guan with more than one pained wince when it rips out a strand or two. 

Much better. Back to work.

Shen Qingqiu quickly finds that his hair is now a nuisance, loose as it is. It drags through the still-wet ink on his papers and sways in front of his face, tickling his nose and sticking to his lips. With no small amount of dramatics, Shen Qingqiu huffs a sigh and sets down his brush with too much force. Long hair is cool, alright? But it’s a freaking pain. 

He looks for something to tie it back with, eyes landing on a ribbon folded neatly on the bookshelf, conspicuously deep blue. Immediately, his face becomes hotter.

The memory of his spar with Liu Qingge yesterday plays in his mind. Ending up in the river with Liu-shidi over him, close enough to feel his breath and see the lines of his well sculpted muscles through his damp robes…

Ahem! Anyway.

Shen Qingqiu swipes the ribbon from the shelf and throws his hair into a quick pony tail. It’s much more comfortable.

It’s not long before Shen Qingqiu becomes restless again. His leg shakes hard enough under the table that the ink is at risk of splashing from the ink well. He looks around the house for something else that needs doing that isn’t expense reports for An Ding. He comes up with a blank. The house it always spotless, now that Binghe lives there, he’s already made himself tea, and he’s already reorganized the tea cabinet that Binghe still isn’t tall enough to reach. 

Why is it so hard to procrastinate here?? Shouldn’t his life be full of awesome xianxia action and treacherous plots? He could maybe do without the treachery, and the plots. But anything entertaining at all would suffice. Recently, his greatest source of entertainment has been the Bai Zhan peak lord, but even he’s away on another hunt today.

Shen Qingqiu sulks a bit at that, plopping his chin down to rest in folded arms. He’s been going to Bai Zhan more and more often, these days. Usually for missions of some kind, or to settle a dispute between his disciples and one of Liu Qingge’s, but despite that it’s been nice. Liu Qingge is a calming presence for him, somehow. It’s easier to relax around Liu Qingge, who doesn’t seem to care about image or propriety, than the other peak lords who still hold him to the actions and reputation of the original goods, at least to some extent.

Liu Qingge still demands to fight often (most of the time because Shen Qingqiu teased him too much) and is very vocal when Shen Qingqiu does something he deems unsavory, but it turns out Liu Qingge is not the type to fixate on something as superficial as reputation or conduct. It’s incredibly refreshing to be able to interact with someone other than Airplane-bro with having to worry too much about his image.

Shen Qingqiu taps the edge of a scroll dejectedly. It’d be great if he could just go to Bai Zhan and mess around for a bit. His shidi is so fun to tease… Of course that brute would decide to go hunting after having just gotten back from a week long mission. Doesn’t he ever rest?

Oh, maybe that’s what he should do.

 

.

 

“Why do you need melatonin?” Shang Qinghua raises his eyebrows at Shen Qingqiu. “Are you having trouble sleeping? Because, me too bro-”

“No, no.” Shen Qingqiu waves his fan dismissively, ignoring the flat look his friend gives him for the interruption, “Not for me.”

Shen Qingqiu’s upper body is sprawled on the front of Shan Qinghua’s writing desk, one hand supporting his chin. He’s been there for the better part of an hour, half listening to him complain about how much ink Xian Shu has been going through recently. 

“For who, then?” Shang Qinghua scoots his little bowl of melon seeds closer to Shen Qingqiu with the backs of his fingers as a silent invitation. Shang Qinghua suddenly squints his eyes. “Nice ribbon you have there.” 

Immediately Shen Qingqiu is on edge (and blushing a little). He’d forgotten to take it out. And Airplane bro looks way too excited for him to be comfortable.

“Thanks.” Shen Qingqiu says dismissively, hoping his friend will drop it. He grabs a couple seeds to gesture vaguely with before eating and sits up straighter. He clears his throat, “It’s for Liu Qingge.” Shang Qinghua’s eyebrows do something Shen Qingqiu doesn’t appreciate, so he continues without acknowledging it, “Can you believe he doesn’t sleep for weeks at a time? And his disciples are just as bad. How are any of them even alive?”

Pausing to give Airplane bro the opportunity to vehemently agree with him, Shen Qingqiu pops a melon seed into his mouth with a significant look.

Shang Qinghua does not come through as expected. “Did Liu Qingge give you that ribbon, too?”

Once again, Shen Qingqiu feels his face flame up at the memory. “What? What does that- So what if he did?” Shen Qingqiu feels something begin to bubble up and flutter in his stomach. He panics and squashes the feeling down with a violence. 

“Mm?” Shang Qinghua waggles his eyebrows and laughs, so Shen Qingqiu hits him with his fan.

“That’s not the point.”

“So, you think Liu Qingge doesn’t get enough sleep, and you want to help him get more?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

The question gives him pause. Airplane bro is being weirdly assertive today. “Well, because he doesn’t get enough. Obviously. I already said that.”

“No, I mean, why do you care?”

What? Shen Qingqiu pauses in his search for a sufficiently nice melon seed. What is that supposed to mean? “Because…” Why wouldn’t he? They’re friends, kind of. Isn’t that a normal friend thing? “Do I have to have a reason? He’s my friend.”

Shang Qinghua looks unimpressed as he brushes salt from his desk. “Mhm.” He says in that annoying tone of his when he’s poking fun. “You two have been getting pretty close recently.”

Shen Qingqiu feels suddenly defensive for some reason. “Yeah. Why are you saying it like that?”

“Saying it like what??” Shang Qinghua’s voice goes up several octaves, (not really) trying and (very purposefully) failing to sound innocent. “I have no idea what you mean!” There are the puppy eyes. “I’m sure Liu-shidi will appreciate this friendly gesture from his friend.” 

The two of them look at one another for several long seconds. Shen Qingqiu punches his bro in the arm. “Stop that.” It’s weird.

“Ow!” Shang Qinghua glares without any heat. “Okay, okay. Fine.” He rubs his arm dramatically. “Please continue… god.” He mutters the last part.

“Thank you.” Shen Qingqiu corrects his posture again, having leaned over to punch Shang Qinghua. “As I was saying. No one on Bai Zhan sleeps! Can you believe that?” By the look on Airplane bro’s face, he can, in fact, believe it. “And they call Shen Qingqiu an abuser.”

“Shen Qingqiu was an abuser.”

“I know that. That’s not the point. Why doesn’t Liu Qingge get any bad rep for neglecting his students?” Like, really, it’s ridiculous. Shen Qingqiu gesticulates dramatically. 

“That’s the way Bai Zhan has always been run.” Shang Qinghua replies, putting on his sagely author persona. “Besides, Liu Qingge takes care of them in his own way. He doesn’t completely abandon them. He even gives them lessons sometimes!”

Shen Qingqiu gives the other lord a flat look. “You mean when he beats them to a pulp and calls it training?”

“It’s good to be able to deal with defeat and facing a stronger opponent!” The melon seed bowl jostles as Shang Qinghua hits the desk passionately. “Agh, anyway! His kids adore him. What else is there to say?”

His kids do, indeed, adore him. Shen Qingqiu ruminates on this briefly, humming into a crooked finger. There must be something he’s doing right. Actually, that’s good news! It was a weight on Shen Qingqiu’s chest to think his friend was really abusing his students.

“They even have family meal times when Liu Qingge catches something edible on a hunt, did you know? It’s actually very sweet.” Shang Qinghua picks something from his teeth.

That… actually is really sweet, yeah. And not something Shen Qingqiu would have expected from his brutish Shidi. 

“But yeah, it is kind of a miracle the Bai Zhan kids are alive. Liu Qingge does not know how to take care of kids.” Shang Qinghua laughs, missing the horrified look on Shen Qingqiu’s face.

So it’s not that he doesn’t care, but that he doesn’t know how to?

Shen Qingqiu shakes his head solemnly. He’ll have to do something about that.

“Right, about that melatonin-”

“No.”

Chapter 5

Notes:

Totally forgot to mention the timeline shift here! Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu meet much earlier in this fic. Not sure when, but it's been a while and they're already friends. The original timeline is taking a backseat in this one, but in general this is before the abyss.

Liu Qingge lands on Bai Zhan just as the light begins to take on the golden quality of sundown. He unloads the body of a beast he just caught with a grunt and gives it a satisfied pat. A good hunt. Sufficiently challenging. Liu Qingge doesn’t know what it’s called, but the beast resembles a Giant Golden-Haired Hyena, but bigger and without the spots. It gave him a decent run for his money, though, he wouldn’t mind facing a couple more.

Shen Qingqiu would know what it’s called, beast fanatic that he is. He’d probably bounce on the balls of his feet the way he does when he’s excited and prattle on about it for the whole evening. Liu Qingge will have to remember to ask.

The beast is too big to carry without a hassle, about three times his own size, so he’ll have to drag it the rest of the way. His disciples spot him coming and holler across the peak to gather the rest of their martial siblings.

“Shizun is back!” His disciples cry, creating a chain of yells around the grounds. They all drop what they’re doing in order to scurry to the Pit. 

Liu Qingge grunts in approval, seeing that some of the kids have already grabbed the pikes and fire wood.

By the time he arrives at the Pit, most of the Bai Zhan disciples have already gathered around and some are in the middle of setting up a large fire in the middle of the bare training ground. Others drag stumps or rocks into the area to sit down and watch as their Shizun tosses his kill in front of them, barely able to contain themselves. 

The beast is bound to a pole and roasting in no time, not-so-quiet murmurs of excitement fill the air. 

“Shizun!” One of the younger boys bounds up to him bravely (although he keeps a respectful distance), “What did you kill this time?” Several more boys behind the first lean in eagerly to hear the answer.

“I don’t know.” Liu Qingge pokes at the fire. It will take a long time to cook. 

The boy nods understandingly. A girl behind him pipes up. “Was it strong?”

“Mn.” An explosion of awed noises ripple out and Liu Qingge shakes his head with fondness. Just a little. His brats worship him too much.

“Shizun, Shizun, how long did it take you to defeat it?”

Liu Qingge considers this. “Twenty minutes.” The beast was quick on its feet, and better at dodging than a Giant Golden-Haired Hyena would be. It made for a much longer fight than usual.

His foolish disciples “ooh” and “ahh” with shining eyes up until the sun has fully set, and the meat is finally cooked. 

They sit and eat for a long while as the fire burns down into embers. The kids coerce Liu Qingge into regaling them with the story of how he defeated the beast, as they always do. Liu Qingge complies begrudgingly with sparse words and demonstrative body language, as he always does. 

For some inexplicable reason, nights like this are his disciples' absolute favorite. Liu Qingge doesn’t really mind them either.

The moon is high and the fire is almost out when Bai Zhan finally begins to disburse. It’s a young student, Liu Qingge recognizes him as Lu Wei, who first makes a move, corralling a group of his friends to move with him. “Come on guys,” he says, licking off his fingers, “we should go to bed.”

That strikes Liu Qingge as odd. He furrows his brow. As far as he knows, his disciples have no set time for sleeping, and for a group to collectively decide to go to bed when they still have so much energy is almost unheard of. 

Liu Qingge thinks it’s suspicious. His first thought is that they’re going to be getting up to something so ridiculous that they would need an excuse like sleeping to get away with it. 

“But I’m not tired yet,” whines the boy’s friend, making himself a deadweight for Lu Wei to drag. 

“Yeah, but we have to make our circindum rhythms, or whatever.”

Lu Wei is met with a chorus of groans. “Can’t we start tomorrow?”

“Don’t you guys want to get stronger?” The boy plants his hands in his hips comically, he’s drawn the attention of the older disciples, too, who lean in curiously. “Shen-shibo said we have to be diligent, remember?”

Liu Qingge nearly chokes on his last bite of meat. Who?!

This seems to have done the trick, and the boys have been convinced. They begin to haul off their make-shift chairs, but Liu Qingge stands abruptly, startling them into stillness. He stalks up to Lu Wei with long strides.

“Who told you what?” Liu Qingge doesn’t mince his word or soften his tone; something like that is for scholars and politicians.

“Hm?” Lu Wei squeaks, looking to his friends for support (he doesn’t find any). “What-um… just, my friends and I heard sleeping regularly makes you stronger.”

Liu Qingge’s frown deepens. “And Shen Qingqiu told you this?”

He gets a quick nod of confirmation. Liu Qingge should have known that man would tell his disciples something so ridiculous. He nearly scoffs just at the thought. Liu Qingge has lived this way his whole life, and he’s fine.

Really, Shen Qingqiu indulges his disciples too much. Those kids will be spoiled rotten if things continue on this track. This particular facet of Shen Qingqiu’s character is something likely only a few people are privy to outside the scholar’s own peak. It had come as quite a shock when Liu Qingge discovered the pampered life those Qing Jing Disciples were living, given Shen Qingqiu had a reputation for being exceedingly harsh on them. 

“Are Bai Zhan and Qing Jing not rival peaks?” Liu Qingge barks, not entirely sure why. “Does this not count as fraternizing with the enemy?” It’s ridiculous even to his own ears, but for some reason he’s worked up.

One particularly bold disciple speaks up without even thinking, an older one. “But, shizun, aren’t you friends with Shen-shibo? You hang out with him all the time!” Immediately, the disciple looks regretful and closes his mouth. But he sets his jaw as if to say I stand by that. Liu Qingge will remember that, and commend him for his decisiveness. But for now, he says nothing at all.

He can say nothing at all. The words echo strangely in his head until they rattle their way down to his chest, which tightens uncomfortably. 

Friends…

Is that what they are? Friends. Friends. Liu Qingge grows warm at the thought. It sounds nice.

Liu Qingge has always been a driven man with a blunt and aggressive way of being. His personality, along with his ambitions to become peak lord, did not make for a conducive atmosphere for friend-making in his youth, so the friends he’s had are few and far between. Most weren’t actually anything more than professional acquaintances.

But there’s no denying that Shen Qingqiu is something new and different. Are they friends? Liu Qingge turns the word over in his mouth. Liu Qingge enjoys spending time with the other peak lord, certainly, and appreciates him as a person. In fact, Liu Qingge might even go so far as to say they’ve grown closer in the past year or so. 

Does Shen Qingqiu think they’re friends? He’s been relaxing more easily around Liu Qingge recently, and acting more friendly. But still, the time they have spent together has not yet extended past work-based interactions; missions and meetings and the like. 

Liu Qingge ponders over this lengthily, frown growing deeper and deeper until Lu Wei begins to squirm in front of him. He continues to think as he sends his brats on their way and as he makes his way back to his house. 

Yes. Liu Qingge sets his jaw and clenches his fist feeling suddenly very passionate. He will be friends with Shen Qingqiu.

Liu Qingge does not sleep that night.

 

.

 

As soon as he decides the hour is decent enough for Qi Qingqi to not verbally annihilate him before kicking him off the peak, Liu Qingge rises from his meditation and speeds over to Xian Shu to seek the advice of someone more practiced in the art of friend making. 

By this point, Liu Qingge has already had time to go on a run around the peak in the morning light and have a hearty breakfast. The familiar routine calms his nerves and makes him feel a little more ready to tackle his problem.

Liu Mingyan’s initial irritability is quickly replaced by delight when Liu Qingge tells her about his dilemma. She ushers him into her room and shuts the door. Liu Qingge is bodily shoved at the table to wait until she’s done putting up a silencing talisman and taking off her veil (she hates to wear it in her own room). According to her, there are a lot of ears on Xian Shu. Of this, Liu Qingge is well aware.  

Much like himself, Liu Mingyan is bold, commanding, and strait forward with a direct way of speaking. Unlike Liu Qingge, she has a talent for making friends. Liu Mingyan is neither bubbly nor excessively friendly — in fact, her mannerisms are quite close to Liu Qingge's — but she has quite the network of friends on her own peak that is remarkably tight-knit, as far as he knows, she also has good relationships with many of the female disciples on other peaks as well. She has a natural charm and an impressive group of admirers, so naturally he went to her for help.

His sister sits across from him, folding her hands in front of her excitedly. “What’s going on?”

There’s a glint in Liu Mingyan’s eyes that makes Liu Qingge fidget, but he came to ask for help, so that’s what he’ll get. “I need help with a friend.” He says simply.

His sister rolls her eyes. “I know, but in what way? Are they already your friend or do you want them to be?”

It should be an easy question, but it has Liu Qingge thinking for a while before he can answer. “… I don’t know. How do I know if we’re already friends?” Getting the question out is like pulling teeth, and Liu Qingge’s face is surely red by now. He’s not used to asking for help, much less about something like this. He feels laid bare in a way that he never usually is. But that’s why he asked Mingyan. Siblings are the only option in situations like this.

Besides, she looks like she’s enjoying herself. “I need more details.” Liu Qingge shoots her a skeptical look. “Seriously, I do! Do you want help or not?”

He gives a painful nod.

“Alright then, who is it?” 

She gives him an encouraging look when his lips press together tightly. “…Shen Qingqiu.” He finally says.

A scathing look stops Mingyan as she draws a breath in preparation to say something Liu Qingge knows he won’t like. She lets out the breath in a whoosh. 

“And, you two are already friends, or no?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell.”

“But you want to be.”

“Yes.” That much should be obvious by this point, he thinks.

“Okay,” Liu Mingyan has pulled a notebook out of somewhere and twirls a stick of charcoal in her fingers, looking very serious. “what exactly is it you want from this relationship?”

“I…” what does he want? He supposes, “I want to make him my friend.” He says this with a decisive nod feeling somewhat repetitive.

Mingyan rolls her eyes in exasperation but nods all the same. “Alright, and what have you tried so far?”

Apparently, Liu Qingge’s silence is answer enough, because Liu Mingyan waves her had dismissively in a reassuring gesture. She smiles, just glad that they’re finally getting somewhere workable. 

“Okay, no worries, we can start from scratch. What do you two do when you spend time together?”

“Work.”

The wince he gets in response to that makes Liu Qingge think that’s not the best answer. Liu Mingyan laughs a little, sounding pained. 

“Do you ever do anything else?”

Liu Qingge thinks. “…No.”

Now his sister looks flatly disappointed. “Ge, this is sad.” Liu Qingge didn’t know it was that bad. He frowns, worried about the state of his potential friendship. “What are his interests, then? Surely you know that, at least.”

This, he does know. Liu Qingge sits up straighter and answers confidently. “He likes beasts and plants— and animals in general. He enjoys tea and paper fans and good food, also sweets. He also loves his disciples, and spoils them too much. Oh, and poetry, he likes that, too.” He could tell her about how the other man prefers silver to gold or that he likes good, heavy thunderstorms and the moon. He could tell her that Shen Qingqiu loves to fly, but when he walks, he likes to do so slowly, so he can thoroughly appreciate his surroundings. But Shen Qingqiu is a man of many loves, and an attempt to list them all would be pointless.

But still, Liu Qingge wants to know him better. Wants to know all of his oddities and his flaws, where the peak lord stops and Shen Qingqiu begins. He wants to see what his smiling face looks like without the look of regret that always follows. What he knows now is only what he has seen through the cracks Shen Qingqiu has allowed in his thick mask. 

While he’d been listing, the corner of Liu Qingge’s lip had tugged into a little smile. He twists it back down into his usual scowl, but Liu Mingyan has already seen it, and her smirk is predatory. “Ge…”

“What?” His reply is probably sharper than it needs to be, but it works. Liu Mingyan puts her hands up in surrender and raises her eyebrows in a woah, okay kind of way which is really, incredibly infuriating. 

“Nothing! But it sounds like you know him pretty well. Maybe you should express interest in one of his interests.” 

“We’re growing a garden together, does that work?” 

“That’s incredibly adorable.” Minyan says with a solemn expression. She presses her lips tightly together, clearly holding back another comment, as she jots something down in her notebook. “And… a good start. Use that.” She coughs.

“What’s that?” Liu Qingge cranes his neck to look at what his sister is writing, but she leans it away. 

“And how do you think Shen-shibo feels? Do you think he wants to be friends?” 

Shen Qingqiu is confusing in this way. Sometimes he’s as easy to read as a mission report, but other times he’s as confusing as one of those poems he likes so much. But Liu Qingge can confidently say Shen Qingqiu doesn’t dislike him, and that’s enough for now. “I don’t think he doesn’t want to.” He settles on saying. 

She gestures for him to continue.

His reasoning is simple. “He’s been around more often and doesn’t fight with me as much-”

“Don’t you two fight all the time?” Liu Mingyan shoots him a doubtful look.

“-that’s sparring, it’s different- he doesn’t insult me as much as he used to, at least not seriously. And he doesn’t hide his face as often. Seriously, what is that?” Liu Qingge stands up on his knees to peer over the top of Mingyan’s notebook. 

Liu Mingyan nods along as he speaks, writing furiously and leaning further away when he gets closer. “I see. Well, it sounds like you two would be great together. As friends, I mean.” She coughs again and he worries for her throat. “You should just go with your gut Qingge, just try to spend more time with him outside of work.”

Liu Qingge thinks this is a reasonable suggestion, and determines to spend time with Shen Qingqiu that doesn’t have to do with work. This, unfortunately, means the garden is excluded from his options. He will have to think of something else.

Not too long later, Liu Mingyan shoos him out of her room after securing a promise from him to keep her updated on everything that happens. As he leaves, she presses a book on plants into his arms and tells him to make use of it. Liu Qingge thanks he for her help and tells her that he will.

The day was unfortunately too busy to put much thought into his plans for befriending Shen Qingqiu. The sun has already set by the time he arrives back on his own peak. He thinks as he walks about what kinds of things friends do. 

He is so deep in thought, that it takes him a full couple seconds to realize that the subject of his pondering is currently standing in front of his door, with a familiar woven basket in hand, little disciples in blue scattering quickly away. 

Shen Qingqiu brightens upon seeing him. Smiling, Shen Qingqiu waves as Liu Qingge approaches, and his heart does something strange, but not unfamiliar

“Liu-shidi!” The scholar calls in that soothing voice of his and — Liu Qingge doesn’t think he’s ready for this, actually. It’s been years since Liu Qingge was last scared, and he doesn’t think there’s a single battle he’s ever refused to take on. 

But Liu Qingge doesn’t feel very brave right now. 

Still, he is the War God of Bai Zhan Peak, so he takes a deep breath, steels his nerves, and lets Shen Qingqiu in anyway, closing the door behind them.

Notes:

Wow, writing Mingyan was harder than I thought haha

I very much appreciate any and all feedback:)

Seriously, your comments give me actual life and tons of motivation. I love reading them so much so don't hold back!

Chapter 6

Notes:

You guys are so sweet! Your comments are so fun to read:))

This chapter is Shen Qingqiu's pov, Liu Qingge will be next chapter.

It’s time to implement step one of Shen Qingqiu’s plan to spread healthy sleep schedules to Bai Zhan Peak. He makes himself chuckle when he thinks about that; it feels like he on some kind of secret mission. He’s sure Liu Qingge would assume his plans were of nefarious nature if he knew. 

He arrives on Bai Zhan with a basket of tea and a tea pot (Liu Qingge doesn’t have one which, who doesn’t have a tea pot?) and waits outside his shidi’s door until he comes back. He considers letting himself in, seeing as Liu Qingge seems to have no problem making himself right at home whenever he comes to the bamboo cottage, but in the end, Shen Qingqiu has manners to uphold. 

It’s several days past when Shen Qingqiu originally intended to begin his plan, and he hasn’t seen Liu Qingge since they were working in the garden. As per usual, peak lord duties will never spare him the time to work on things that are actually important. But now he’s done with his paperwork and his disciples are through with their classes, so he has time.

Already he can feel his muscles beginning to relax, now that he's finally able to step away from work. The ivy has been getting so bad on Qing Jing, drawing so much spiritual energy from everything, that it’s beginning to affect the arrays on the grounds. Just the other night he’d woken up in a frenzy to the sounds of barriers breaking and he'd had to fix them before going back to sleep. Safe to say the last couple days have been nothing but trouble for Shen Qingqiu, and he can tell his disciples are starting pick up on his stressed energy.

This will be a much needed break for him.

Shen Qingqiu has been waiting for a while now, but he doesn’t particularly mind. His shidi’s little disciples, who are all extremely cute, have kept him occupied. They refused to let him be near their shizun’s house unsupervised, but that also means they keep him company the whole time, which is surprisingly nice. He recognizes a few young faces, one he remembers to be Lu Wei.

Lu Wei’s face seems to be set in permanently intense determination, serious as can be for a fourteen year-old. He doesn’t smile, but he practically vibrates with energy as he tells Shen Qingqiu how he and his friends have now slept for two whole days in a row (they skipped a day before that because the wandering glowtoads had come out, and they couldn’t miss it). Lu Wei says it’s difficult to fall asleep, but thinks he feels stronger already, or so he says as he demonstrates by tackling an unsuspecting friend. 

Shen Qingqiu hadn’t expected his little impromptu lecture to inspire little Lu Wei to such an extent, and he is so pleased that he doesn’t hesitate to place a hand on the disciple’s head. “Well done,” he doesn’t quite exclaim, because that wouldn’t be very lofty of him to do, but he says it with a warm smile as he pats Lu Wei’s hair.

The action is clearly not something the boy is used to, and he freezes on the spot, looking exceedingly bewildered. Shen Qingqiu almost wonders if he should apologize, then the child’s eyes suddenly become extremely bright and he bounces on the balls of his feet. Shen Qingqiu thinks his heart might explode.

“And are you eating well enough?” Shen Qingqiu knows for a fact that the Bai Zhan kids go through more food than any other peak, but he feels like he should make sure. “Vegetables and fruit?”

The disciples tell him, affronted, that of course they eat well! They eat three big meals a day every day, how else would they gain muscle like their shizun? Shen Qingqiu is relieved, so he sings them another praise.

Quickly, it seems, the other disciples present have caught onto the idea that they might receive praise from this lofty peak lord. Liu Qingge is always badgering him about spoiling his disciples and about how they need more discipline, but surely this much can’t hurt. Suddenly Shen Qingqiu is watching the gaggle of Bai Zhan disciples as they move through their sword forms. It’s very sweet, and Shen Qingqiu has to bring out his fan before long to hide a charmed smile. 

The kids are ecstatic at receiving his compliments and attention and they take his advice seriously. Not for the first time, Shen Qingqiu thinks; what diligent disciples!

Liu Qingge returns a little while after sundown and his disciples scurry off. Shen Qingqiu rises from his seated position and remembers why he came. 

It would be a lie to say that Shen Qingqiu only came to enact his devious plot, although that is one reason. His chat with Airplane bro was pretty enlightening in terms of his relationship with Liu Qingge. Yeah, They were friendly with one another, and Shen Qingqiu thinks of him as a friend, but they don’t actually ever spend time together that isn’t about work. If coming over in the evening to chat over tea will help change that, then he’s killing two birds with one stone!

Liu Qingge looks at once both very determined and more tired than Shen Qingqiu has ever seen him. Pity fills his heart at the sight of his shidi, valiantly trudging on with not an ounce of sleep in his body. The exhaustion isn’t obvious, per se, but Shen Qingqiu has learned the shifts and changes of his stony face well enough to notice the difference. There’s a small hunch to his well muscled shoulders, and his feet don’t quite drag, but it seems to take more effort to lift them.

He frowns when worry pangs in his chest, sharp and sudden. He wonders how long it’s really been since his martial brother has slept.

By the way, Liu Qingge’s house it seriously sad. Shen Qingqiu has already been here before, but he wasn’t exactly paying attention. It’s not that the place terribly dirty (it is disorganized and dusty though) or small, but it feels like whatever the opposite of homey is. There are no decorations of any kind, although he might’ve expected as much from the War God, and the only furniture in the room is the absolute bare minimum that probably came with the house. That being, a low table and an empty bookshelf. Thankfully, at least he spots a small array of weapons that look well loved hanging on the wall by the desk.

When he first comes in, he chalks the dust up to Liu Qingge not ever cleaning (he imagines the War God peacefully mopping the floors and stifles a little chuckle), but looking closer, most of the stuff is undisturbed, collecting in the corners and in fine layers around the outer edges of the room. 

Safe to say, it’s very different from Shen Qingqiu’s own comfortable home, which has accumulated many knick knacks since he arrived that adorn his shelves and walls and which is constantly kept in pristine condition by his devoted white lotus disciple. 

Shen Qingqiu lights a candle in his heart for this poor, tasteless man. He’s probably completely oblivious to his lack of interior design skills, probably thinks anything not functional is pointless. Shen Qingqiu sighs internally. Shidi, don’t you know? A peaceful home makes for a peaceful soul.

Leisurely setting his basket down on the low table and kneeling properly beside it, Shen Qingqiu doesn’t acknowledge any of his observations. Liu Qingge is strangely compliant with Shen Qingqiu’s invasion of his home, letting him in without a word and standing cross-armed by the door. 

Liu Qingge glares at his basket in a way the Shen Qingqiu has come to recognize as asking. His friend is of even fewer words than usual, looking extremely tired, but that’s fine, Shen Qingqiu always is happy to carry the conversation (or indulge in the silence if that’s what feels right). 

“I thought it might be nice to chat over tea,” Shen Qingqiu explains, then panics suddenly “about the egg,” he adds on, to his own confusion. He’d meant to leave it at “chat over tea” so why did he add on an excuse like that?? Can’t he just want to spend casual time with his friend? Why does he feel so nervous about it suddenly?

Shen Qingqiu is highly uncomfortable with his apparent self-sabotage, and tries not to frown too hard as Liu-shidi’s face lights in realization and he marches over to sit at the table across from him. 

The relief that just barely loosens Liu Qingge’s shoulders at the last words puts something heavy in Shen Qingqiu’s stomach. He snaps open his fan and stations it just below his eyes, finding some strength in the familiar action.

“I don’t have any tea.” Liu Qingge frowns again, and Shen Qingqiu’s nerves alight all over. Did he overstep? Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he’s the only one who wants to be friends after all, and he made the leap all on his own. He’s not used to this. Such thoughts swirl around is his mind like a whirlpool, distressing enough that the pit in Shen Qingqiu’s stomach seems to double in size. He begins to worry at his lip without thinking, grip growing incrementally tighter around the wood of his fan.

But Shen Qingqiu can’t panic here, in his martial brother’s home, so he takes a quiet but deep breath and steels his nerves. Shen Qingqiu straightens his posture and smooths the furrow in his brow, settling his features into a mask of cool indifference with all the practiced ease of a man with much to hide.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Shen Qingqiu’s fan is snatched directly from his fingers. Liu Qingge holds it far away with a fierce glare.

His initial reaction is to snatch it right back in anger, and he nearly does. Shen Qingqiu is leaning most of the way over the table and reaching from his stolen item with a poisonous remark on the tip of his tongue when something else is shoved under his nose. 

He rears back again in surprise. It’s his fan. A different one, made of pale wood with a small red tassel. Shen Qingqiu recognizes it as on that went missing recently.

“You have too many fans.” Liu Qingge doesn’t look at him as he holds out the lightly colored fan, darker one now closed on the table in front of them. “Don’t lose them. Since you like them so much.”

All of his tense muscles and nerves release like a flood, so sudden that it takes him a second to react. He takes the fan gingerly. A smile blooms on his face and the force of it is too strong to suppress. It’s soft and small and much too real, but Liu Qingge isn’t looking, so he thinks it might be okay. 

Ah, really. This master is all over the place isn’t he? Look at him! Leaping to conclusions left and right, how embarrassing. He’s not usually this emotional. He quietly laughs to himself, something fond and quiet.

Finally Shen Qingqiu has gathered himself again. There’s a distinct fluttering in his stomach that makes him feel wiggly and nervous and warm. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling anymore, but he doesn’t want to think about what it means, so he ignores it as he always does. He holds the newly returned fan open in front of his nose, this time hiding a lingering smile and a fading embarrassed blush. He still doesn’t have it in him to talk just yet, which would usually be a problem, but Liu Qingge has done a complete one-eighty and is now more talkative than Shen Qingqiu has ever seen him.

“Let’s talk about the egg tomorrow.” His shidi says, looking very determined for having been about to pass out just minutes ago.

Shen Qingqiu is careful not to plunge back into doubt, “Hmm?”

“We can talk about the egg tomorrow. Just tea now.”

Oh? What a surprise! Shen Qingqiu would never have expected Liu Qingge, of all people, to suggest pushing back a matter of work, much less having tea instead. Pleased, Shen Qingqiu lowers his fan a bit, raising one brow.

“Liu-shidi has no tea.” He says with an edge of teasing, confidence returning. 

“You brought tea.” Liu Qingge points out the basket next to him with a solemn face. It is full to the brim with tea.

“You have no teapot, either.” Shen Qingqiu is just talking now, liking the relaxed atmosphere the back and forth provides.

“You brought a teapot, too.” He did, indeed. 

Shen Qingqiu laughs softly. “This shixiong had no idea Liu-shidi was so enthusiastic about tea!”

“Mn.” Liu Qingge grunts an affirmative and Shen Qingqiu nearly drops his fan altogether in surprise. “I like… tea.” Liu Qingge looks somewhere off to the side and coughs a little.

“You do?” This is an unexpected development. Shen Qingqiu feels himself getting excited, having learned something new about his shidi.

“… yes.” 

Really, Shidi, you’re making it so difficult to tease you! How is Shen Qingqiu supposed to respond to that?

“It’s getting quite late, though,” it’s not, really, “perhaps we should schedule for a later date.” Shen Qingqiu says with a relaxed tone that he doesn’t feel. He doesn’t know why he said it. Now he really does want to stay and have tea. 

Once again, there is no need to be nervous at all. “No. Tonight.” Liu Qingge is looking at him now, and Shen Qingqiu suddenly feels jittery under his earnest gaze.

Something giddy curls and stretches in Shen Qingqiu’s chest like a cat in a sunspot. He hikes up his fan just a little bit higher to hide the fond smile that tugs on the corners of his lips and leaves him feeling restless. 

“Well, then. If Shidi insists, this shixiong is happy to oblige.” His teasing was unsuccessful, but he doesn’t have it in him to feel disappointed. Shen Qingqiu hasn’t quite stopped smiling when he puts down his fan and goes about setting up the tea.

Shen Qingqiu feels a little like he’s being indulged as he begins boiling the water and placing cups in front of them. Liu Qingge offers up a question every now and then, watching him work with his cheek cupped in one hand, elbow propped up on the table. It’s the most relaxed he thinks he’s ever seen his martial brother. Shen Qingqiu thinks he likes this Liu Qingge; posture poor, armor and accessories removed (now scattered around him in bits and pieces). There’s not quite a smile on his face, but his eyes are soft enough that it doesn’t make a difference.  

“This is chamomile,” Shen Qingqiu explains as he pours the tea into Liu Qingge’s cup and then his own, “it is good for calming an upset stomach and reducing anxiety. It also helps one to fall asleep.” The last bit is added on carefully with a sneaky look at Liu Qingge through his lashes. Liu Qingge is already looking exasperated when he does. 

Seeing as there’s no melatonin in this world, despite there being what are essentially fifty different types of viagra, thanks to Airplane and his stupid priorities, Shen Qingqiu’s only choice is to resort to tea. He had asked if there were any magical plants that would put the War God to sleep, but Shang Qinghua pointed out the fact that that would literally be drugging him, so he’s only left with so many options.

For now, Shen Qingqiu will try out different types of teas that are known to help people sleep and figure out with one is the best. And as a bonus, this little experiment is something he can record for later use.

“Is this what you’ve been infecting my students with?”

Shen Qingqiu nearly laughs out loud in surprise. “Who’s infecting them? Sleep is important for everyone! Including war gods.” He levels his shidi with a pointed look and gets an unimpressed one in return.

Liu Qingge scoffs. “Sleeping every night is excessive.” Shen Qingqiu levels him with another look. Someone else might’ve believed the other peak lord if he said he wasn’t tired, but Shen Qingqiu knows him too well now to be tricked in such a manner.

It’s times like these that make Shen Qingqiu wonder how anyone on this peak is alive. “Shidi, please…” it’s almost painful to have to explain this again, so he doesn’t, “just drink the tea.”

A grumble is poorly suppressed, but Liu Qingge takes his cup all the same, fixing it with a suspicious look. He throws it back like a shot, then holds it out for more. Shen Qingqiu wants to cry.

Refilling the cup, Shen Qingqiu can’t help but admonish, “Shidi, you don’t have to drink it so quickly.” 

Liu Qingge drinks two more cups in a similar fashion before he seems to calm down a bit. Maybe the tea is kicking in. Shen Qingqiu himself is getting a little sleepy at this point, too. After all, it’s a little past his usual bed time already. Luo Binghe is probably beside himself with worry. 

The time spent is mostly quiet, both of them content simply to sit and enjoy the other’s presence. Every now and then, Liu Qingge will suddenly blink, as if remembering something, then spring a question about tea from absolutely nowhere. It’s very strange. But Shen Qingqiu answers every one all the same, happy his shidi seems to be interested enough to ask.

Much to his satisfaction, Shen Qingqiu sees Liu Qingge begin to nod off, looking very cute as he does so. The war god’s eyebrows furrow as he stares at the cup in his hand. Every now and then, he’ll shake his head a bit, trying to fight his drowsiness. In the warm glow of candlelight, Liu Qingge gains a kind of softness in his sharp features. Shen Qingqiu quietly admires his strong jaw and perfect cheekbones, the way his silky hair falls over his shoulder. Liu Qingge really does have nice eyelashes, too, thick and dark. Yes, he looks very cute like this. Liu Qingge really is too good looking.

Shen Qingqiu tears himself away from his observations, feeling somewhat embarrassed again. 

At this point, they have tapered off into a pleasant silence. Shen Qingqiu thinks, with a wicked smile behind his fan, that it’s about time he lets his martial brother sleep. It’s only tea, but Shen Qingqiu feels like he’s accomplished something great.

Shen Qingqiu is almost tempted to put Liu Qingge to bed himself. Partly because he wants to make sure the job is done, and partly because he thinks if he doesn’t, Liu Qingge might really just fall asleep at the table. He restrains himself and pushes himself to his feet, relieved when the motion prompts Liu Qingge to do the same. 

Their goodbyes are said in soft tones so as not to disturb the quiet atmosphere, and soon enough, Shen Qingqiu is flying back to his own peak with a happy fluttering feeling in his chest. What a good night, Shen Qingqiu thinks, and hums softly to himself, feeling exceptionally content.

Notes:

Kudos and comments are much appreciated and very rewarding to read:) please let me know what you think!

Chapter 7

Somehow, Shen Qingqiu has managed to make a routine out of what he has very seriously deemed “Sleepy-time Tea”. It’s been a couple weeks now since it started, and Liu Qingge can’t say he dislikes the regular addition to his life. 

Sleepy-time Tea does not occur on a daily basis, but Shen Qingqiu comes when his schedule allows, and that is enough for Liu Qingge. 

That being said, he now feels that he is getting far too much sleep. Just in the last week, he’d slept three times! And still he doesn’t have it in him to turn away his shixiong when he arrives at his door, basket in hand and a pleasant smile on his face that becomes less guarded each day. 

Liu Qingge finds that these times that they share have already become something he cherishes. It’s exciting to have such regular time with his friend, because yes, he thinks they are surely friends now.

After the first few Sleepy-time Tea’s Liu Qingge paid his sister a visit to tell her of his progress. If he did so with an excited pink tint to his ears, no one else has to know. Liu Mingyan had been ecstatic for him and had cooed at the prospect of Sleepy-time Tea. Liu Qingge think he regrets telling her what they call it.

All in all, the visit had been encouraging, if embarrassing, and his sister had left him with an offer of more tips on how to get closer, if he wanted them. She’d made the offer with a strange raise to her brows that made Liu Qingge incredibly suspicious, so he declined the offer. After all, he is comfortable in his friendship as it is, he doesn’t need to change it.

It’s difficult to tell if it’s the tea that puts Liu Qingge to sleep, or the soothing presence of Shen Qingqiu, whose companionable quiet always makes him feel at ease. This is not to say they spend their entire evenings in silence; most often they will start off in the garden, which is becoming quite lush and healthy. Shen Qingqiu relishes in checking in on each and every plant as he is doing now, rambling on about how lovely they are looking and how- 

“Shidi is taking such good care of them! Look,” he places a gentle finger on the underside of a pale leaf and lifts it for Liu Qingge to see, “they’re growing so quickly.” 

Liu Qingge hums and nods appreciatively, but he isn’t really looking at the leaf. He looks at the way Shen Qingqiu’s green eyes light up when he finds it coming in.

Shen Qingqiu has paid particularly close attention to the twin suns’ blessing plant, which has been coming along nicely. It’s a luscious plant with deep green leaves in bunches of five with strong stems. At the center of each group of leaves is a steadily growing bud that glows gold. From what Liu Qingge understands, this plant will somehow help to combat the invasion of ivy on Qing Jing that’s been getting out of control.

Liu Qingge has offered on several occasions to send some disciples over to help uproot the plants, but Shen Qingqiu seems to think he and his disciples have it under control, so he let it go.

The garden is looking rather impressive, that much Liu Qingge can readily admit. He is particularly fond of the heaven’s nectar tree, which it already as tall as his waist and is sporting golden blooms. Shen Qingqiu says these plants’ growth are being accelerated by the spiritual energy that surrounded them in the egg. 

Liu Qingge has begun to feel somewhat prideful about the garden. More than once, he has thought about dragging Mu Qingfang here all the way from Qian Cao to show him the prospering plants. The healer would surely be speechless and Liu Qingge would be immensely satisfied. (They’d once had a lengthy dispute over plants in which Mu Qingfang had claimed Liu Qingge couldn’t grow something if he tried. Liu Qingge had, out of spite, given gardening a try and it proved to be a remarkable failure. The ordeal is a dark stain on Liu Qingge’s pristine record of victories.)

But Liu Qingge doesn’t really want to bring anyone here just yet, so he doesn’t do that. 

Having to share his garden with others is an inevitability that is already coming to pass, though. Shen Qingqiu had requested they enlist the help of his disciples to weed the garden recently. Liu Qingge hadn’t understood why they couldn’t just do it on their own, but the other peak lord was insistent, so he begrudgingly agreed. 

As in most things, Shen Qingqiu had been right. Weeding turns out to be an arduous, vexing task that takes hours upon hours even with the help of four disciples. Disciples who, much to his surprise, had been eager to help, nearly running all the way to the garden. 

Liu Qingge’s brats are always eager, though, he supposes appreciatively, and they approach every problem enthusiastically. But for something as mundane as weeding a garden, he wouldn’t have expected them to have so much energy. Shen Qingqiu insists that it is because they are glad Liu Qingge is asking them for help, and that they want to show them what they’re capable of. Shen Qingqiu also suggests that he give them praise for their successes more often. He says it’s important to let them know that they’re doing well in order to give them motivation and confidence. Liu Qingge is doubtful.

Of course, Shen Qingqiu had spoiled them the whole time. Complementing them when they cleared a large spot and patting their heads in thanks for their hard work. Liu Qingge is of the opinion that disciples require discipline and self-confidence rather than relying on the opinion of others. This was how Liu Qingge was taught and it worked for him. Besides, it’s not in his nature to give excessive praise or affection

Liu Qingge had grumbled as the other pat his disciples’ heads that he was ruining Bai Zhan’s method of instruction, but the other only responded with a chuckle. Shen Qingqiu glanced at him several times after that with a considering look, but stopped after Liu Qingge raised a brow in question.

It wasn’t lost on Liu Qingge how well his disciples responded to Shen Qingqiu’s assurances, however. It’s not his style, but he can see how it makes sense. Just a little.

Liu Qingge’s disciples are all hard working and diligent. It wouldn’t do if they became discouraged, thinking they weren’t doing well. The thought troubles him slightly and he ponders on it until the sun begins to sink on the horizon and the blue-clad children scurry off for dinner, leaving just Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu to finish up. 

Shen Qingqiu tells Liu Qingge not to worry, they will also be able to eat soon. Liu Qingge gives him a grunt in response, for the other to interpret however he pleases. He himself is not hungry — able to go around a week without eating, the War God of Bai Zhan Peak is not often subject to such a feeling — but Qing Jing’s scholarly lord has different standards and enjoys food very much.  

“I think it’s about time to put up a lattice for the Winding Wisp,” Shen Qingqiu tears him from his thoughts. The scholarly lord has forsaken his little rag today (his pale robes have already been ruined from the muddy ground after the rain last night) and plants his dirty hands firmly on his hips as he appraises the delicate vining plant. 

Liu Qingge nods even though Shen Qingqiu isn’t looking and sets about retrieving the lattice leaning up against the house. Luckily Liu Qingge hard completed it just hours prior at his martial brother’s instruction. He didn’t know exactly what he was doing at the time, so he can only hope the result is satisfactory. He thinks it must be when Shen Qingqiu hums his approval.

“Thank you, Shidi,” Shen Qingqiu moves aside for him as he makes his way to the Winding Wisp. Liu Qingge is instructed to set the lattice up carefully, so as not to damage the roots.

It’s with the last rays of the setting sun that Liu Qingge completes his task, he turns, still crouching, to let his martial brother know and catches a glimpse of the other in the gentle golden light. Shen Qingqiu’s jade skin takes on a honey-like quality and his long hair shines beautifully, ties up in a pale green ribbon. Liu Qingge swallows a lump his throat when one delicate hand comes up to brush away a drop of sweat. This is becoming a regular occurrence. Liu disregards it as usual and clears his throat. “It’s done.”

Shen Qingqiu perks up and fixes Liu Qingge with bright eyes. He clears his throat again, suddenly fidgety. Shen Qingqiu pats his hands on his robes as he rises and walks over to Liu Qingge. 

“This one has such a reliable shidi,” Shen Qingqiu’s voice is soft and soothing, the way it gets when he is particularly content, “thank you.” Liu Qingge doesn’t have to look to know the other is smiling, and his heart does a funny little flip.

The next moment, Liu Qingge’s heart practically jump out of his chest; a hand has been placed on his head.

He doesn’t dare to move. A thousand thoughts race through his head. 

The hand on his head freezes, too, as if Shen Qingqiu didn’t expect the action either. After a moment, is seems as if Shen Qingqiu has decided simply to commit, and he pats Liu Qingge’s hair gently, cautiously before gaining a bit of confidence.

“Good work, this shixiong is grateful.”

Just like that, it’s over just as fast as it began, and Liu Qingge is left blinking in shock, the sound of his shixiong’s robes swishing behind him in a tactical retreat. When Liu Qingge finally turns around to look, Shen Qingqiu is standing imperiously by the creek, lightly waving his fan in front of his face. There’s a gentle pink that tints his ears from the evening heat. 

Liu Qingge feels… what does he feel? Stuffy and warm and full of nervous energy. Embarrassed, maybe? To be treated like one of Shen Qingqiu’s little ducklings is surely embarrassing.

“Ahem, that’s enough work for today.” Shen Qingqiu fans himself faster. “This one will return to his own peak to eat.” That guard dog of his always cooks dinner, Shen Qingqiu tells him. He is quite good. 

Liu Qingge is left on his knees in the garden, the ghost of Shen Qingqiu’s gentle fingers lingering in his hair. 

There is a fierce heat making it’s way across Liu Qingge’s face until it’s nearly unbearable. This has never happened before, and Liu Qingge cannot say that he dislikes it.

That is what’s so alarming, though. Something like a head pat should not render him so still. It’s not just head pats, either, if he’s being honest. A hand on the shoulder or a laugh at something he said; even just particularly significant eye contact can render him useless! 

This is quite the problem. He should talk to Mingyan when he wakes in the morning, he seems to have stumbled upon an oddity in his friendship.

It’s not until he’s been laying awake in bed for hours thinking about this that he realizes there had been no Sleepy-time Tea that night. He frowns. There will be no sleep to be had, tonight, then. 

Qi Qingqiu would skin him alive if he tried to go to Xian Shu at this hour. 

Liu Qingge drums his fingers on the blanket over his stomach. He debates getting out of bed to hunt, but finds he doesn’t really want to. He then thinks about meditating instead, but that doesn’t appeal to him either. He’d rather sleep. 

Maybe he should make himself some tea. That should help.

And so, Liu Qingge hauls himself out of bed even though it’s far more difficult than it used to be, and heads to the kitchen. Luckily, Shen Qingqiu leaves the tea he brings here, claiming there’s enough tea on Qing Jing already. Shen Qingqiu has also left a kettle, teapot, and cups behind. (So he doesn’t have to keep bringing them over every time.)

Liu Qingge pauses upon opening the cupboard, a faintly warm feeling spreading from his chest. The shelves are nearly full. Shen Qingqiu has left behind a box of every tea they’d tried so far, neatly organized and tucked away along with jars of sugar and honey. On the counter lay the pale green tea set they use, not quite clean, but good enough for Liu Qingge right then. This too makes him feel… something.

He chalks the feeling up to the late hour and looks between the boxes of chamomile and moon’s embrace. After a moment of thinking, he snags the box of chamomile. Shen Qingqiu says it has a floral taste, light and refreshing, and is best enjoyed with honey. Liu Qingge figures that sounds about right.

Brewing the tea can’t possibly be so hard. After all, Liu Qingge has watched it done countless times now. He can’t really remember all the steps, but it’s probably fine. 

It’s not fine, actually. 

Liu Qingge doesn’t know what he’s done to make the tea taste like this, but he thinks Shen Qingqiu would throw him off the cliffs if he tried it. It’s far too bitter, somehow, even though he put honey in it and despite it being a floral tea, and it tastes kind of burnt, although he doesn’t think he steeped it long. He wrinkles his nose, but drinks it all the same, wishing he could fly down to Qing Jing and have tea there instead.

The tea had not been a success taste-wise, but Liu Qingge holds out hope it will work sleep-wise. He climbs back into bed.

He tosses and turns. He heaves a great sigh. He tosses once more and snaps his eyes back open. This isn’t working.

Maybe it’s the atmosphere? Shen Qingqiu has such a soothing presence. Perhaps that’s what lulls him to sleep. He thinks briefly about flying over to Qing Jing, but the idea is ridiculous and dismissed quickly.

Liu Qingge lets his mind wander to his fellow peak lord; his gentle voice and pleasant laugh, bright smile unhidden by his fan. 

He thinks about this evening, when Shen Qingqiu pat his head. Liu Qingge is surprised at how comforting the thought is. Placing a hand on his head where Shen Qingqiu’s had been not so long ago, he can understand why the Qing Jing kids are always clambering for his pats. 

There are many things he likes about Shen Qingqiu. He likes the way he is equally as happy to share in Liu Qingge’s silence as he is to break it, just as he invades Liu Qingge’s space as much as he respects it. It’s good, he thinks, to be known in such a quiet, unassuming way. 

He likes the way the other man has wormed his way into Liu Qingge's life, with his pale greens and flowing elegance, usually so out of place on his peak. He likes knowing Shen Qingqiu, deciphering his many expressions and gestures. He likes his mischievous sense of humor; the teasing lilt to his voice and the sneaking gleam in his eyes. He likes Shen Qingqiu’s quiet appreciation of the world and his easy love for beautiful things wherever he finds them. He likes his blinding smiles as well as his soft ones, his calm company and also his enthusiastic exuberance, and-

Oh.

He likes Shen Qingqiu. 

Notes:

God, LQG is such a mess, poor guy

I think there might be some plot coming?? Maybe just a little tiny bit?

As always, your kudos and comments make me so so happy:) so let me know what you think!

Chapter 8

Notes:

Got some set up for a little plot that materialized completely against my will for this chapter, whoops

Overnight, the Withering Moon Ivy has become far worse, along with Shen Qingqiu’s subsequent headache. The whole peak has been overtaken with them, leaving him no choice but to make it his first priority. 

To Shen Qingqiu’s great distress (actually way more than should be normal, honestly, it’s weirding him out), he cannot attend Sleepy-time Tea with Liu Qingge for a long time. It surprises him how much the little loss affects him, he’s grown to really enjoy that particular routine, and in fact, Liu Qingge himself.

But duty calls, as it always does, at the worst of times and soon there is almost nothing Shen Qingqiu can do but whip out the Xiuya alongside his students. All of them have shucked an outer layer in the heat, and Shen Qingqiu has tied his hair up in his blue ribbon and rolled up his sleeves.

His disciples had been rather shocked to see it, poor things probably weren’t used to seeing their lofty master change his appearance so much. Ah! Shen Qingqiu lights a candle for his disciples working so hard, he should get them a gift to thank them. Really, they’re too good.

It’s grueling work. Even with every member of the peak helping, the ivy is growing faster than they can cut it, and it’s not long before a distressed Ming Fan comes to seek him out.

“Shizun, Shizun!” His head disciple cries. “The dormitories have been completely taken over!” Ming Fan is a high strung child, easily stressed out even by small things, so Shen Qingqiu makes sure to stay calm.

“Alright, it was only a matter of time.” Shen Qingqiu sheaths his sword to dash the sweat from his forehead. “Thank you Ming Fan, please show me.”

Ming Fan trudges through the thick vines all the way to the dormitories with Shen Qingqiu trailing behind him as serenely as he can manage in this heat. It’s becoming overwhelmingly clear that Qing Jing is uninhabitable at this time. When they reach the disciples’ living quarters, Shen Qingqiu can only stare in shock.

The windows are bursting with vines as thick as Shen Qingqiu’s arms and the wooden walls are being pulled apart. There’s no way to even approach the doors. Shen Qingqiu heaves a sigh, they will have to stay elsewhere tonight.

A handful of green-clad disciples have gathered around him shifting their weight from foot to foot, eyes downcast dejectedly. Shen Qingqiu knows his disciples are always eager to do well and to please him, but sometimes he thinks they worry too much. It’s likely a residual effect of the original good’s cruelty that they still get so nervous, but he’s doing his best to reverse the damage from the past. He puts on a benevolent smile reserved just for them.

“Thank you,” he says gently, “I know this is hard work.” His disciples lighten up immediately as his tone and begin to come closer eagerly, not-so-subtly offering up their heads for pats. “This master has such diligent disciples,” he gives them their pats, “what would he do without you?”

The murmurs around him begin to lighten a bit from the defeated mood as his little ducklings start to relax again. It’s been a stressful week for all of them.

“But Shizun,” one disciple speaks up, frowning solemnly, “the vines have completely taken over.

“It doesn’t feel like we’re making a difference at all,” says another sadly. 

Shen Qingqiu can only chuckle at their moping and brings up his fan to flutter in front of his face. “Nonsense! The ivy would have taken over days ago if not for your hard work. But it is getting quite bad now.” At these words, the kids wilt like a meadow deprived of rain. “So we might have to find somewhere else to stay temporarily.”

At this the murmurs explode in volume and distress, all clearly thinking they failed somehow, despite his reassurances. Binghe’s lower lip is already wobbling and Ming Fan is valiantly resisting tears. Shen Qingqiu really must do something about their dramatics. But he understands. It’s not easy to have your home overtaken like this and to be pushed so effectively out, he himself is feeling quite bothered. Shen Qingqiu would go so far as to say all of his students love their peak, although it makes him nervous to make such a claim. All of them worked their little hearts out to keep the ivy at bay, so their frustration is only to be expected.

“Don’t worry,” Shen Qingqiu comforts sagely, “this master has a plan that should be ready in a few days at most.” He hopes.

 

.

 

Shang Qinghua joins Shen Qingqiu in the bamboo cottage around midday, looking distressed. A Peak Lord meeting has been called, and they decided to meet before hand and walk there together. Shen Qingqiu has taken his hair down from its slipping pony tail and is redoing it into his usual half-up

“Bro…” Airplane bro says sadly as he appraises the damage to Shen Qingqiu’s house, “this is not good.” He can’t tell if his bro’s concern is for Shen Qingqiu or for himself, though. Surely An Ding is going to have a rough time of cleaning up this particular mess.

“Yes, thank you for that.” Shen Qingqiu sighs and trudges slowly out the door with his friend. “Anyway, my disciples and I need a place to stay until we can deal with it. What’ve you got?”

Shang Qinghua makes an aggrieved sound. “What happened to that twin suns’ blessing plan? I thought that was gonna work.”

“Won’t be ready for another couple days. The kids can’t stay in the dorms. I have to find somewhere else, unless you think I should try to house them all in here?”

“Can you camp out?”

“The shed with the supplies is inaccessible. Also the ivy might strangle them in their sleep. We need another option.”

Shang Qinghua heaves an uncharacteristically serious sigh and frowns, filling Shen Qingqiu immediately with worry. “I don’t know bro,” he picks at the hems of his sleeves, “it’s not just Qing Jing anymore."

“What does that mean?” Shen Qingqiu is rightfully alarmed. It was already bad news with one peak in such a condition, but if the ivy has spread to other peaks as well it could have catastrophic consequences.

“Xian Shu and Qian Cao have both reported a substantial infestation, Zhangmen-shixiong called for the meeting to address it, that’s mostly what I came here to tell you.” The mood has become exceedingly serious, the air feels thick with worry. 

Thoughts swirl darkly in Shen Qingqiu’s mind as he walks, watching the colors in the rainbow bridge change beneath his feet. This is turning out to be far worse than he initially thought. It looks planned. The image of his beloved peak drowning in ivy comes to the surface of his mind, bamboo cottage he’d just begun to start calling home crushed and rotting. He’s starting to feel a little sick.

“-hey,” comes Airplane’s voice and a hand on his shoulder, “hey bro. Are you okay?” Shang Qinghua has stopped them in the tracks, frowning and gripping Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder in a tight but comforting hold.

“Mm, yeah,” Shen Qingqiu shakes his head, feeling suddenly very tired.

“…It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Airplane bro’s words, for once are actually kind of comforting, for some reason, and Shen Qingqiu nods along. “It’s not your fault.”

At this, Shen Qingqiu fells his face screw up in a poorly contained combination of worry, frustration, and guilt. “Yeah, but, I feel like I should have done something sooner! Look at how suspicious this is, bro! How could I not have known?” He feels too vulnerable, saying this here, and his volume is getting too high.

“How could you have known?” Shang Qinghua asks with a squeeze, “None of us knew. And I certainly didn’t write it. So stop worrying. You can’t take credit for everything, you know.” The last part is slightly teasing, and manages to get a little smirk out of Shen Qingqiu.

“Yeah, alright,” he says as he starts to walk again. “…Thanks.” He adds on as an afterthought and immediately regrets it. He snaps open his fan and walks faster.

“What?”

Shen Qingqiu punches his bro in the arm.

“I didn’t catch that, what did you say?” Airplane laughs as he rubs his arm.

“Shut up, bro.”

The rest of the walk goes by in a slightly more bearable silence until they arrive at the meeting hall.

When all the peak lords are present and seated, Yue Qingyuan begins the meeting.

“Many of you are aware of the problem of the withering moon ivy,” his strong voice booms through the hall with gravity that doesn’t match the strained smile on his face. “I’ve called this meeting today because it has grown to such an extent that it poses a security issue for the sect.” Shen Qingqiu had expected as much, but hearing it still makes his heart drop a fraction. “According to Mu-shidi, withering moon ivy feeds on the spiritual energy of its surroundings, and with such a large amount of it, it has begun to drain energy from the protection arrays around the mountain.” This draws a hushed gasp from the room. “In addition to this, we have observed an increase in demonic activity around the base of the mountain, minor for now, but it does need to be dealt with.”

“I’ll go.” It’s Liu Qingge who stands up first, to no one’s surprise. Shen Qingqiu frowns. Usually he would also volunteer, but with his peak in the condition it is, he’s on no position to leave the sect and his disciples for an unknown length of time.

“Thank you, Liu-shidi. You can depart tomorrow, how does that sound?”

“Fine, Zhangmen-shixiong.” Liu Qingge sits down, looking strangely excited. But Shen Qingqiu can suppose that’s to be expected. It’s not every day Liu Qingge gets to fight demons, and Liu Qingge loves fighting demons.

“Alright,” Yue Qingyuan smiles, “is there anyone else who would like to go with him?” He turns the question to the rest of the room. Those with ivy on their peaks will surely choose to stay behind to take care of the affects, and those without will likely want to stay back just in case. Besides, most people find it difficult to go on missions with Liu-shidi and his hot-headed approach to everything. It’s just difficult thing to ask, what with the situation being so suspicious. But no one has the chance to answer anyway.

“That’s not necessary,” Liu Qingge is on his feet again, glaring, “I can go alone.” Liu Qingge is often adamant on going lone-wolf on missions, but it feels like excessive insistence this time. Shen Qingqiu cocks his head thoughtfully and narrows his eyes, appraising his shidi, taking note of the taught line of his shoulders and the downward curl of his lips as he dares anyone to deny him. Strange.

The sect leader coughs awkwardly and his smile becomes even more strained. He always did find dealing with Bai Zhan’s peak lord to be somewhat tiresome. “That’s very noble of you, Peak Lord Liu, and this is not a comment on your abilities, but as of now, we aren’t aware of what the demons might be planning. Would it not be safer to go with someone? We don’t have much history engaging with eastern demon clans.”

Ah, so they’re eastern demons. Shen Qingqiu hummus quietly behind his fan. He’d always found demons from the east to be quite interesting; craftier and more clever that the typical demon. Their terrain is quite green, covered in dense jungle and forest land, naturally they are quite familiar with weaponizing the resources at their disposal. These include rare plants and poisons that can be found nowhere else about which Shen Qingqiu has read extensively. 

In general, eastern demons are not as much of a threat in small numbers, but it’s a different story with large numbers. It begs the question of wether the ivy got to Qing Jing naturally, and the demons are seizing the opportunity, or if the ivy was placed intentionally with a larger plan in mind.

With the topic of who will go settled, Shen Qingqiu has his own matter to bring up.

“Zhangmen-shixiong, this one has a matter to address.” Shen Qingqiu stands elegantly, fluttering his fan. Yue Qingyuan snaps his attention over so quickly Shen Qingqiu worries for the state of his neck.

“Please, go ahead.” Interacting with the sect leader is always so awkward. He feels so bad for the guy! But the original goods is gone now, and he has no idea how to act around him. It’s like a constant guilt trip for something he has no idea about.

“Thank you. Qing Jing has been completely overrun but the withering moon ivy to the point where the dorms have become unsafe for living. This one humbly request to be provided with temporary housing on another peak until Qing Jing is livable again.” Ah, he really hates asking for help like this. Most of the other peak lord still think he’s scum. He raises his fan higher.

Shang Qinghua clears his throat from across the room, surprising most everyone there. Shen Qingqiu can see a devious glint in his eyes. A shiver goes down his spine.

“Why don’t you and your disciples stay on Bai Zhan?”

…What? Wasn’t it Airplane who was just telling him there was nothing he could do? Shen Qingqiu fixes him with a glare, trying to deter him from whatever stupid plan he’s trying to execute.

“Does that work for Peak Lord Liu?” The mousy cultivator smiles innocently. “Bai Zhan has the most open space for camping and I understand the two of you have been growing closer of late.”

“They do seem to be getting close, don’t they?” Qi Qingqi appears up for the first time, looking Shen Qingqiu up and down curiously. A chorus of agreements spring from several others, to Shen Qingqiu’s embarrassment. He hadn’t thought his martial siblings cared enough to pay attention.

Shen Qingqiu turns to Liu Qingge for help, but is only met with a brief glance before his friend stubbornly looks the other way and says, “That’s fine.”

He’s flabbergasted. Does he get any say in this at all? Don’t get him wrong, it’s not like he doesn’t want to stay at Bai Zhan, really! Actually, Bai Zhan is probably preferable to all the other options for him, but the same can’t be said about the disciples! Qing Jing and Bai Zhan disciples are notorious for constantly being at each others’ throats. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t think he’s witnessed a single encounter between Liu Qingge’s disciples and his own that didn’t end in tears, destruction, or injury. Not to mention, the Bai Zhan kids will be completely untethered without their shizun there to keep them in line! As fond as Shen Qingqiu has grown of them, he can’t deny that every single one of them is prone to unprompted assault of his students, it’s in their blood. How badly do the peak lords want to avoid letting the scummy Shen Qingqiu onto their peaks that they thought this was the best choice??

All the other peak lords seem to be either pleased with the quick solution, or relieved that it won’t have to be them that houses Shen Qingqiu. All except Yue Qingyuan, who looks as distressed as he always does when it has to do with Shen Qingqiu.

All he can do is sigh behind the safety of his trusty fan, disappointed, but not as surprised as he probably should be. It’s going to be a long couple of days.

“Wait- ah,” the sect leader stumbles on his words through the murmuring of the other lords in the room, “certainly, my own peak is also suitable for such accommodations.” Yue Qingyuan shoots Shen Qingqiu the most impressive pair of puppy eyes he’s ever seen on a grown man as if to say, Xiao Jiu, please choose me. 

As conflicted as he feels, he knows his reservations are ridiculous and unnecessary. He and Liu Qingge are friends! What is there to be worried about? Also, Shen Qingqiu isn’t suicidal, and he knows he might die from misplaced guilt if he stayed with the sect leader. This in mind, Shen Qingqiu has no choice but to be selfish this time. He inwardly apologize to his disciples before offering his response.

“Thank you for the offer, Zhangmen-zhixiong,” Shen Qingqiu smiles painfully, “but, I think it would be more convenient to stay on Bai Zhan.” 

Yue Qingyuan fully looks like a kicked puppy, and Shen Qingqiu winces and looks away slowly, telling himself it’s someone else’s guilt, not his.

But in the end, the matter is settles, and there’s nothing else to be done but break the news to his disciples. They will not be happy about this plan.

Notes:

Hopefully I'll be able to get the next chapter out in the usual two days, but my work hours have been pretty long the past couple days and it set me back a bit.

This chapter is a bit different, so I was a little nervous about it. Please let me know what you think!

I very much enjoy your lovely lovely comments! They're extremely fulfilling and motivating to read:))

Chapter 9

Notes:

Sorry it took a little longer this time, I've been getting a little stuck on the later chapters, but here's a longer chapter to make up for it!

Shen Qingqiu had been prepared, but getting the kids to agree to staying on Bai Zhan is still more difficult than he thought it would be. The kids are usually so obedient, but this time they're really not receptive to the idea. They’re nearly at the end of the rainbow bridge and they’re still protesting and dragging their feet. Each of his disciples carries a small bag slung over their shoulder full of essentials (the qiankun pouches are in the shed, unfortunately).

“Shizun! We can’t stay with these animals!” Cries one of the disciples just older than Ming Fan who Shen Qingqiu knows had an altercation with one of the Bai Zhan kids just last week.

Shen Qingqiu can feel himself sweating nervously. “Now, now. They’re not that bad. This master is sure you’ll all get along well!” It sounds like a stretch even to his own ears.

“But Shizun, weren’t you the one who said they were brutes?”

Ahh, they got him on that one. Shen Qingqiu fans himself harder. “Well, yes…” he admits, “but they’re lovable brutes.” They really are. Shen Qingqiu has recently become privy to their charms and finds them quite cute.

The response seems to shock Shen Qingqiu’s disciple’s into silence. They freeze on the spot and their faces become a little darker, turning toward the Bai Zhan disciples training not too far away. Immediately, they break out in another bout of outrage.

Shen Qingqiu snaps his fan closed loudly and levels his students with a disapproving look. “Are this master’s disciples not usually well behaved? I know this is difficult for you, but this master taught you better than this. It's very kind of them to let us stay.”

Quiet fall over the group as the children shift around guiltily. Shen Qingqiu almost feels bad.

Shen Qingqiu can understand their doubtfulness. Not a week goes by without one of Liu Qingge’s ‘brats’ raising havoc on Qing Jing. Most of his disciples have suffered unwarranted sparring matches with the excitable children. As far as he knows, the rivalry between Qing Jing and Bai Zhan goes back generations.

“Shizun… surely you don’t like them more than us, right?” Ning Yingying’s innocent question has something of a dangerous undertone that Shen Qingqiu has never heard from her and a shiver goes down his spine. 

“Shizun spends so much time there now…” Says Binghe with big, wobbling eyes that Shen Qingqiu knows are a ploy. Usually he would be delighted to see his little white lotus working together with his future wife, but now he only feels like he’s being ganged up on.

He waves his fan dismissively, “Of course, only you are this master’s beloved disciples.” The answer seems to satisfy them enough that they continue walking. “Now please, can my disciples promise me they will be on their best behavior? It’s very kind of Peak Lord Liu to allow us to stay.”

Only after securing this promise from his disciples does Shen Qingqiu press his way through the entrance. The children remain so close to him the whole way that they might as well be attached to him. He sighs. It’s going to be a long couple days.

Liu Qingge meets them by the entrance with the usual little group of disciples hovering around behind him. They look a mix between happy to see him and intensely suspicious of the green-robed disciples beside him.

A small hand from within the Bai Zhan group waves energetically. It’s Lu Wei. Shen Qingqiu smiles and waves back, although his smile is somewhat strained. It feels like there’s lightning crackling between the two groups. Honestly, the tension could be cut with a knife! Really. Aren’t his disciples usually better behaved than this? It’s not like them to be so openly hostile.

Shen Qingqiu gives Liu Qingge a tired smile. “Thank you for housing us, Liu-shidi. Are you sure there’s space for all of us?”

“Mn,” Liu Qingge replies, looking grave. The other peak lord’s arms are crossed as he glares his usual glare, but he looks like his mind is elsewhere.

A long moment of silence stretch out between them while Shen Qingqiu waits for the other to tell them where to go. His disciples begin to shift behind him and mutter this or that until finally Liu Qingge speaks.

 

.

 

“Your disciples can set up tents on the training fields, there’s not enough space in the dorms. My disciples will lead you, now go on.” Liu Qingge instructs gruffly. The children obey, although they are clearly unhappy about it. The two groups of disciples exchange fierce glares as they walk away slowly, as if expecting the other side to attack. Liu Qingge himself receives a healthy number of looks that are probably fearsome for fourteen year olds, the strongest of the bunch coming from the one with curly hair who’s constantly following Shen Qingqiu around (Liu Qingge knows his name, Shen Qingqiu talks about him too much not too, but he’d rather die than admit it).

The two of them make it to Liu Qingge’s house with light chatter, mostly on Shen Qingqiu’s side. Shen Qingqiu will have to stay here due to the limited available space. Liu Qingge supposes he could have stayed in a tent alongside his disciples, but his shixiong dislikes camping, and Liu Qingge has a spare room.

Before anything else, Liu Qingge shows Shen Qingqiu to the guest room tucked away beside his own. The room is small and bare save for an empty bookshelf and a bed, but it’s been made up to the best of Liu Qingge’s abilities (he wiped down the shelves and floor as well as made the bed. He’d contemplated placing a flower on the bookshelf, because Shen Qingqiu likes flowers, but had been too embarrassed to go through with it). Shen Qingqiu unloads his qiankun pouches, revealing a shocking amount of paperwork, books, trinkets, and at least four folding fans. He says they are all precious, how could I leave them behind? Liu Qingge only raises an eyebrow in response.

It’s too early for Sleepy-time Tea, so they share a pot of Oolong. 

The full rays of afternoon sunlight stream quietly through the open window, casting long shadows. The gentle breeze lifts Shen Qingqiu’s black hair to brush against his high, scholarly cheekbones. He looks at peace, even as he works through his papers. Liu Qingge sits across from him, also with paperwork in front of him that he’s not doing (he never does paperwork, it usually turns out fine). Now, Liu Qingge thinks, it a perfect opportunity to put his sister’s advice into practice.

As far as he can tell, his visit to Xian Shu had been a fruitful endeavor. He’d gained a number of strategies for earning affections as well as expressing his own. Mingyan had congratulated him wholeheartedly and Liu Qingge had been touched by her gladness for him. Liu Qingge still is not sure exactly how he wants to proceed; he likes the way things are now, but knowing the extent of his feelings, things have gotten complicated. His sister had been patient, telling him to “go with the flow”, see would know in the moment what was the right thing to do

“Your eyes…” Liu Qingge tries, going off of one of his sister’s suggestions, but his voice comes out thin and quiet and Shen Qingqiu doesn’t hear him.

“And you want him to like you, too, yes?” Mingyan had asked.

Liu Qingge does. Very much so. Indeed so much that he felt a very strange wave of fire overcome him and he felt both passionate and far too vulnerable as he told her that “Yes, I want him to like me too.”

“But what do I say?” Liu Qingge asked.

“I don’t know.” Mingyan had shrugged, “Just tell him his eyes are beautiful, or that you like his smile. Those are classics. Go with your heart, Ge, it’ll be fine.”

“Hmm?” Green eyes meet Liu Qingge’s in askance and he panics.

“Nothing,” he says quickly, as he clears his throat. That was awful.

Mingyan had advised him to give compliments to earn affections. Liu Qingge thinks hard about what he should say, he is not one for frivolous words. What do people usually give compliments about? Looks? Liu Qingge doesn’t think much of appearances, only knows that Shen Qingqiu is beautiful. He could try skills. Shen Qingqiu has many. But what would he say? You teach well, or, you are intelligent? Maybe, your handwriting is neat? They are all of them insufficient and ridiculous sounding, and Liu Qingge doesn’t like the idea of saying something simply for the sake of it. 

How is he supposed to put Shen Qingqiu to words? Liu Qingge is not a scholar or a politician, who are practiced in painting with poems and speeches, he knows the sword and little else. Sitting here across from him, Liu Qingge feels the tell-tale warmth of affection, bursting at the seems with fondness for this man, heart stuttering at the gentle curve of his smile — but why? Shen Qingqiu, who adores his students and spoils them rotten, who looses a folding fan every week, who brings Liu Qingge tea because he does not sleep and pats his head when he does. Shen Qingqiu cannot be put so insincerely into words.

Liu Qingge does not think this is the method for him. He gives up. He thinks he will find another way as he watches Shen Qingqiu’s eyes curve, then dart up to glance at him. Shen Qingqiu’s voice is light with amusement as he reads Liu Qingge a line of poetry his student wrote that makes absolutely no sense, but which he seems to enjoy.

Mingyan had also suggested gift-giving as a means of expressing his feelings, he recalls. Liu Qingge thinks he likes the sound of this better. He’s always excelled in action where words had failed him.

After finishing paperwork, if not very much, the sun has begun to take on the golden hue of sundown and Shen Qingqiu has departed to check in on his disciples and make sure they are settled. Liu Qingge heads to the dorms to check on his own.

The disciples are shocked to see their master there, gathered on the floor tussling and wrestling lightheartedly. Not all of the brats are present; most of the older ones are off doing who knows what in the woods or sparring in the Pit, but the younger ones are all here. Shrieks and laughter taper down as they begin to notice his presence, tilting their heads up at him from the floor.

“The Qing Jing disciples…” Liu Qingge says. “Play nice.” Most of the children look bewildered at his request, as if him wanting them to behave is totally uncalled for. And maybe it is — he usually gives them free rein as long as they don’t actually get anyone hurt. “Don’t attack them.” This earns him ear piercing squawks of disapproval.

The room is in chaos of the type only children can muster until Liu Qingge levels them with the look. They become quiet again, pouting but mumbling their agreement. He understands their confusion. Members of Bai Zhan Peak have always antagonized and pestered the Qing Jing disciples; it’s part of their culture and one of their favorite activities. Liu Qingge himself used to revel in it, still does. But the situation is tense right now, so Liu Qingge thinks he should warn them just this once.

A chorus of “yes Shizun”s and “alright..”s ring out half-heartedly and Liu Qingge nods his approval. 

He begins to turn, but freezes, frowning. His disciples are being understanding and good, right now, and he appreciates that. He thinks he probably hasn’t ever shown them that he appreciates their hard work and it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. 

Before he can think better of it, Liu Qingge places a large hand on the closest disciple’s shoulder and sweeps his gaze over the room, “I appreciate you,” he says, and strides out the door before he can see their reaction.

Shen Qingqiu is already making tea by the time Liu Qingge gets back. He is unusually quiet and his strained smile sets Liu Qingge on edge. Shen Qingqiu sweeps around Liu Qingge’s kitchen like it’s his own in a flurry of green. He is still fidgeting when the tea is ready and waiting on the low table in front of them.

This evening, they’ve decided to bring Sleepy-time Tea out into the back garden, where the setting sun illuminates everything in a soft, golden glow. By now, the heaven’s nectar tree is as tall as Liu Qingge and its fruits are a healthy golden color, as big as his fist. The twin suns’ blessing plant is thriving and shining brightly in the dimness of duck. Hidden away in the nooks and crannies by the remains of the egg shell and around the pond (a recent project that proved to be much messier that first intended), the fungi are beginning to glow their iridescent blue of night. It’s quite beautiful.

Liu Qingge stares as his martial brother pours the tea, brow furrowed. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes are unfocused when he takes a sip and lets out a long breath as his posture breaks ever so slightly. Liu Qingge watches for a moment longer before breaking the silence.

“What’s wrong?” 

Shen Qingqiu jumps at the suddenness of the question, snapping back into focus. He huffs a laugh that is so forced it’s painful to watch and waves a hand dismissively. “Nothing, nothing,” he lies, “sorry, Shidi.” 

Liu Qingge frowns harder until the other man’s resolve breaks and he sighs loudly.

“It’s really nothing!” He exclaims, exasperated. “I’m just worried about the ivy.”

“That’s not nothing.” Liu Qingge sip his tea patiently.

“You know what I mean.” 

“I don’t.

Shen Qingqiu makes a noise of frustration and glares. “It’s not that big a deal.” Liu Qingge doesn’t know why he keeps saying that. If it worries him to such an extent, then naturally it’s important.

“Tell me.” It’s more of a suggestion than a demand, but Liu Qingge puts some force into it anyway. It takes about two slow sips of tea until Shen Qingqiu heaves another sigh and looks at him with more honest eyes this time, heavy with worry.

“I’m worried about the ivy,” Shen Qingqiu reiterates. “I don’t think it’s spreading naturally, and I should’ve seen it earlier.” The words spill out like water from a broken dam. It’s clear that this has been on his mind for some time. “I think my students can tell I’m worried, so they’re getting worried, too. I should have seen it and dealt with it sooner.”

Shen Qingqiu huffs and puffs like his breaths are laboring. He is fighting an emotional outburst, Liu Qingge recognizes. In this situation, you should comfort the person in distress. Tell them it will be okay and that it’s not their fault. Liu Qingge has seen it done on many occasions, but Shen Qingqiu is more skilled in such things than he. Maybe that would work. 

Liu Qingge’s frown deepens, considering, before finally he slowly reaches out a hand and places it atop Shen Qingqiu’s head. “You are good,” he says, and means it. 

Means that Shen Qingqiu is kind and righteous and caring, and that he is forgivable for this self-imposed blame. He is good, in every way that matters.

The first thing Liu Qingge notices is that Shen Qingqiu’s hair is incredibly soft and silky, and he’s glad the other’s hair is in a relaxed half up and not a more pointy guan, the second is that Shen Qingqiu has gone completely still. Liu Qingge’s not sure if he’s doing this right. He thinks he might be putting too much weight into his hand, when Shen Qingqiu does it it’s always gentle. He opts not to move his hand at all, deciding to shoot for comforting weight rather than soothing strokes. This way he won’t have to incur the wrath of having messed up the scholar’s hair too badly.

In a blink, Shen Qingqiu’s face has exploded in a deep flush, eyes blown wide. Liu Qingge chooses this time to remove his hand, deeply amused by his shixiong’s reaction. It stirs something in his chest that makes him want to tease and prod.

This feels much better than compliments, Liu Qingge thinks, satisfied (surely, that doesn’t count as a compliment more than a statement of fact).

Shen Qingqiu does not dignify Liu Qingge with an answer beyond his blush, and instead changes the subject after sputtering for a long moment.

“Are you sure you want to go alone?” He asks, a touch petulantly as he snaps open his fan and looks to the side. It doesn’t come across as casual as he probably wants. Liu Qingge eyes the action with suspicion. 

“Yes,” he assures. Liu Qingge is perfectly capable of taking care of some minor demons. In fact, he’s been itching for a mission for some time now.

“But-” She Qingqiu turns to face him in a sudden whirl, slamming his fan into his lap with open concern in every line of his face, “you’ve never faced eastern demons before!” He looks genuinely worried. Liu Qingge would usually be offended at such doubt, but now only feels a smile begin to tug at his lips. “They’re not the same as ones you’ve fought before.

“I’ll be fine.”

“They’ll use poisons a lot, so you can’t even get cut,” Shen Qingqiu warns, eyes big and earnest.

“I won’t.”

Leaping up, Shen Qingqiu begins to pace around the garden. “I don’t think this was a coincidence, Shidi,” he says, low and serious, tapping his closed fan against his lips, “I think they’ve been planning this. You have to be careful.”

“I’ve been poisoned before.” He means it as a reassurance, but it must not work because Shen Qingqiu is glaring at him now. 

“Even you are not invincible, Liu Qingge.”

The words are heavy in the quiet atmosphere they’d built thus far. It hits Liu Qingge then that Shen Qingqiu might be one of the only people in the world who worries about him. Really worries. Unselfishly and casually, from insufficient sleep to unsuspected battles, Shen Qingqiu is the only one who scolds him or lectures him, asks him if he’s alright. In other people’s eyes, invincible is exactly what Liu Qingge is.

It’s a new feeling, as many are when it comes to Shen Qingqiu. Such a nice feeling, he thinks. It fills him from the tips of his toes to the top of his head with warmth until he feels like he might explode, heart about to pound out of his chest with fondness. A broad smile stretches his lips and he leans forward to rest his chin in one hand.

“Are you worried?” Liu Qingge asks teasingly, liking the way Shen Qingqiu stammers and raises his fan, blushing a delicate pink, eyes widening as he stops his pacing.

“What? I- No! ...Yes,” Shen Qingqiu turns slightly away and has raised his fan so high Liu Qingge can barely see his face. “Why does it matter?”

“You look worried.” Liu Qingge stands and hops off the porch, smile settled into something more of a curve of his eyes. It feels strange, smiling so openly, but he’s happy and can’t seem to help it.

“No I don’t. Why would I be worried?” Shen Qingqiu asks imperiously despite his pink cheeks. Shen Qingqiu is unknowingly shameless all the time, so how is something like this embarassing? 

“Shen-shixiong worries all the time.” He has never used this name for Shen Qingqiu before, but it feels right, at the moment.

“I don’t.” The other insists, still looking away. Liu Qingge walks closer, feeling a little giddy.

“Shen-shixiong is caring.” Liu Qingge snatches the fan from Shen Qingqiu’s grasp, revealing large green eyes and lips softly parted in surprise. Shen Qingqiu retreats a step and averts his eyes again.

“I’m not…” Shen Qingqiu says weakly. He reaches out to grab his fan, but Liu Qingge holds it further away.

“You’re not?” Liu Qingge asks, voice low. “So Shen-shixiong doesn’t care?”

Shen Qingqiu looks up to meet his gaze, face red with embarrassment, looking extremely bullied. He heaves a sigh and glares without any heat. “I do care. Of course I do.”

“Mn.” Liu Qingge doesn’t move any closer, just looks, letting the words sink into his skin and basks in Shen Qingqiu’s careful affection. It feels good, to care and be cared for. Liu Qingge is filled with a sudden desire to wrap Shen Qingqiu up in his arms and never let him go. 

“Then… will you miss me?” The words are foreign and quiet in Liu Qingge’s mouth. He doesn’t think anyone has missed him before. Maybe his parents. 

Shen Qingqiu scoffs and makes another grab for his fan, catching hold of one end, the other still firmly held in Liu Qingge’s grasp. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll be back in a couple days!”

Inexplicably, Liu Qingge feels a bit disappointed by this answer. He hums and leans back out of Shen Qingqiu’s space.

“But…” Shen Qingqiu still doesn’t look at him, instead choosing to mutter at the ground, blushing hard, “don’t take too long.” 

“Mm, okay.” Says Liu Qingge, eyes curving, pleased. “I won’t.”

“And be safe, please.” Green eyes turn up to meet Liu Qingge’s, with an elegant crease to his brows. “You’re too reckless.”

Liu Qingge huffs once, amused, but replies all the same. “Okay.”

A smile graces Shen Qingqiu’s lips and he shakes his head with a small laugh. “Good,” he says.

Shen Qingqiu’s free hand hand comes upward with a mischievous tilt to his lips. Liu Qingge obediently bows his head down to receive the head pat with a small smile, reveling in the feeling of Shen Qingqiu’s gentle fingers as they card through his hair. Liu Qingge longs to reach forward and cross the small distance between them, to place his hand on Shen Qingqiu’s waist and draw him even closer, to prolong this moment even by a second.

“If you don’t come back safely, I’m stealing your children.” 

Liu Qingge barks a laugh at that and closes his eyes, “Thank you,” He says quietly, and the words feel too raw. 

“For what?” Shen Qingqiu hasn’t taken his hand away from Liu Qingge’s hair. 

“For worrying.” The hand on his head pauses briefly before it resumes for a moment longer, movements tender and smooth.

Shen Qingqiu only hums softly, removing his hand as he smiles. “Shidi deserves to be cared for.” 

Hardly a moment passes before Shen Qingqiu gives in to his thin face and tears himself away with a cough. He sits himself back down beside the tea and takes a long sip. Liu Qingge joins him after a moment, full of pleasant feelings and more at peace than he’s been in a very long time.

Notes:

More plot coming next chapter! Not sure whether to split the next chapter into two slightly shorter ones or to just post it as one longer one, what do you think?

Kudos are so much appreciated and comments absolutely make my day, so any feedback is welcome!

Chapter 10

Notes:

Hullo! Here's the chapter, sorry it's a couple days late!

When Shen Qingqiu wakes, Liu Qingge has long since gone, and breakfast is ready and steaming on the table. Binghe sits beside it excitedly waiting for his Shizun to partake. Shen Qingqiu has no idea how Binghe got in, or how he cooked a meal, given that there is no food in this house. Binghe gets a firm talking-to about breaking and entering before he scurries back to the training grounds to eat with his martial siblings.

Not one to be ungrateful for the protagonist’s five star cooking, Shen Qingqiu eats enthusiastically before getting dressed and ready for the day.

As the day progresses in somewhat of a daze, Shen Qingqiu faces a rather concerning issue. That is— he can’t seem to get the image of Liu Qingge out of his head. Jaw-droppingly, heart-stoppingly handsome Liu Qingge, smiling widely at him, eyes curving. Or Liu Qingge, placing a far too heavy hand atop his head with an earnest expression that erases all his worries. He thinks his heart just about stopped.

He does his best to shake the images from his head between meals, cooked by an extremely sleepy looking Binghe (who had trouble sleeping last night, having been so far from his shizun, apparently, which is concerning to say the least. This little trip might have to be a learning experience for him). But in the moments his mind begins to wander, Liu Qingge slips right back into his mind’s eye, and so too does an absent smile slip onto his face. 

It’s embarrassing, really, but it really had made him happy last night, what Liu Qingge said. It had worked warmth into his heart that bloomed into something bright and fluttering. Made him feel, dare he say it, cared for.

Ahh… at this point, Shen Qingqiu really can’t keep avoiding it anymore. It’s becoming increasingly, alarmingly clear that his feelings for Liu Qingge are not entirely platonic. 

Well and truly alarming to the point where it almost hurts to think about it. Of course he, of all people, would go and fall for the number one strait man of PIDW. He’d tried to pretend otherwise, but even he has a limit for self-denial. He keeps getting this wiggly feeling in his chest when Liu Qingge gets near or says something even bordering on affectionate (for him, anyway) and this stupid, wide grin splits his face when he thinks about it again later.

But it doesn’t feel good. He kind of feels like he’s taking advantage of their friendship. He feels guilty — the kind that puts a stone in your chest and a lump in your throat, so he avoids it with the skill of a man who has always chosen to run first and fight later.

Not to mention, Shen Qingqiu just can’t stop worrying about Liu Qingge’s mission down the mountain. He knows well and good how capable his martial brother is in battle, has been on the other end of his blade more times than he can count, and yet, he worries. It’s stupid and unnecessary, but there’s something in his gut telling him something is off about this whole situation, he just doesn’t know what.

And so, in an effort to avoid thinking about his own treacherous feelings, Shen Qingqiu gathers his disciples for a lesson, something small and easy.

He calls them over to the grassy area beside the training grounds (not the ones his disciples are camping out on, but the other ones, across the peak. There are three that he knows of), upwind to avoid breathing in any dust in the wind, and shaded by three tall trees. The grounds themselves are in use, as they always are, and the sound of metal on metal and boots on dirt echos through the field. A handful of older disciples spar on the far side, and the younger disciples occupy the closer side, dutifully practicing their sword forms in the late morning heat. 

Shen Qingqiu has chosen to teach a lesson on painting, today. Qing Jing teaches the occasional class to supplement calligraphy or sometimes poetry, but only very rarely. Shen Qingqiu thinks this is a good time for a lesson that is not so taxing, but still teaches his students the importance of creativity and fluidity of the mind. He himself is not the most confident in this particular artistic ability, so he neglects to give a demonstration.

Because the lack their usual outdoor desks, and Bai Zhan possesses nothing of the sort, they had to get creative, and he asked his disciples all to bring something suitable as a replacement. Shen Qingqiu watches as his students bend quietly over their wooden planks, large rocks, etc., to paint whatever it is they feel invokes a feeling of comfort. He, himself, is working through the endless pile of paperwork that has cropped up since the destruction of most things on his peak. 

Eventually, though, Shen Qingqiu feels that the weather is too fair and the atmosphere too peaceful to be doing something so irritating, so he sets down his brush and rises from where he sat near the trunk of one of the large trees, using a conveniently placed rock as a desk. As he walks around to observe his students work, Shen Qingqiu snaps open his fan to peer from behind it. 

Many of his disciples have taken his prompt of comfort and decided to paint different parts of Qing Jing, looking rather somber as they do so. Without thinking, Shen Qingqiu places a hand on their heads as he passes. The sight fills him with pride that they find his peak to be a place of comfort.

Luo Binghe has produced a painting he thinks is of the bamboo cottage, but it’s difficult to tell, between his wild strokes and excessive use of ink that makes everything blur together. Surprisingly, Ming Fan has painted a lovely rendering of the training grounds on Qing Jing, although he’s added some figures he thinks must be Ming Fan’s family.

Shen Qingqiu walks around to Ning Yingying and looks at her work over her shoulder. It’s shoddy, to put it lightly, but there's something endearing about it. The lines are messy and inconsistent, and there are a number of splotches where the too-wet brush dripped fat drops of ink onto the paper. Instead of asking what it is, he says, “Tell me about your painting.”

Ning Yingying turns a bright smile to him and replies cheerfully, “It’s dinner time, on Qing Jing!” She points to a circle of oblong, stick looking shapes, “See, this is all of us, and that’s Shizun,” she points at a slightly larger shape, “eating together. We’re outside where we usually read poetry, because that’s my favorite spot.”

“But we do not eat together.” Shen Qingqiu points out, not unkindly, “And the disciples eat in the dinning hall.” 

“Yeah,” Ning Yingying doesn’t seem bothered by his observation, “but I think it would be the most comforting if we all could eat together. Wouldn’t it be nice?” Her eyes are bright and excited, genuinely happy at the prospect of simply sharing a meal, and Shen Qingqiu feels his heart soften somewhat.

“Yes,” he muses, “that sounds very nice.”

Shen Qingqiu meanders around some more until he spots some new additions to the group. Peering at their little painting circle is the group of young disciples Shen Qingqiu has become familiar with. They have put down their swords in the grass and watch curiously from a small distance away. 

Shen Qingqiu chuckles quietly, “Would you like to join our lesson?”

The question seems to startle both the Bai Zhan disciples as well as Shen Qingqiu’s students, who cast weary glances over their shoulders and make little grumbles of protest. 

“But Shizun!” Calls one of his bolder students, “isn’t this a Qing Jing lesson? They can’t join, can they?”

“Nonsense,” Shen Qingqiu levels his student with a flat look of disapproval, “all children are welcome to learn if they please, and no art is reserved for any one person or peak. Isn’t that right?” His disciples grumble their assent, and he smiles in satisfaction.

Shen Qingqiu can see the older disciples wandering closer, too, although they pretend not to be interested.

“What are you doing?” Asks Lu Wei, always the spokesperson for his little group of friends.

“We are painting,” Shen Qingqiu replies, “would you like to give it a try?”

The group of youngsters before him hum and sway, considering. They begin to accept his offer, but a voice calls out and interrupts them.

“Painting?” Huffs one of the older disciples who had strayed close enough to hear their exchange, “We don’t do such useless things.”

“Well then,” Ning Yingying says through gritted teeth, “Go back to beating each other up. You can just say if you’re bad at it.” Shen Qingqiu sighs. He does not want to deal with this right now.

“Bad?” Shrieks the Bai Zhan kid, “It’s just painting anyway, it’s not like it could be hard!”

“There’s no need to be so defensive,” sneers Ming Fan, clearly reveling in the conflict, “if you’re not bad, then just prove it” Shen Qingqiu nearly weeps in either distress or pride at Ming Fan’s incredible ability to piss people off.

The Bai Zhan disciple squawks indignantly and stomps forward at Shen Qingqiu, “Fine! We’ll join your class.” The smaller kids in blue around him look at each other, delighted.

Shen Qingqiu leads them to his rock-desk and provides each with a piece of paper and a brush and sends the on their way. The mouthy older disciple, Yang An, Shen Qingqiu learned, plops himself down underneath the furthest of the three trees, while the others make room for themselves among the Qing Jing disciples. 

Shen Qingqiu, now very curious as to what kind of art a Bai Zhan disciple can produce, walks slowly around to continue his observations. He can even see little Lu Wei leaning over to one Qing Jing disciple or another to ask for advice, determined to paint something that lives up to to his own high standards.

And so the day continues thusly, blue and green mingle together to create a peaceful image of cultivators in the swaying grass. Until another figure appears in the distance, which he recognizes to be Mu Qingfang. Good, Shen Qingqiu has been meaning to speak with him.

Shen Qingqiu walks with Mu Qingfang to another tree, further from the diligently working disciples. Mu Qingfang, for his part, looks baffled when he sees the mix of blue and green without the addition of blood and or yelling. It’s an entertaining expression to see on the ever-collected healer’s face.

It doesn’t take long to get down to business, though, and Mu Qingfang begins their conversation by asking about the twin suns’ blessing plant.

“It’s nearly there,” Shen Qingqiu says, “it just has to finish blooming fully before I can remove the pods for planting on Qing Jing.”

Mu Qingfang hums in consideration, “I only hope it will be enough.” Shen Qingqiu couldn’t agree more.

“Mu-shidi,” he starts hesitantly, “how much do you know about the demonic activity down the mountain?” It’s been on his mind, and Mu Qingfang seems like he’s in the loop. So little information was given at the meeting, and he can’t help but conjure up the worst case scenarios. Liu Qingge may be a war god, but he can only do so much against a whole army of eastern demons, with their poisons and gasses.

The healer gives Shen Qingqiu a tired but pitying look, “Not as much as I would like to. Although, from my observations, it looks like the ivy was not placed on your peak as a plot, but that might be the case for the others. My guess is that the ivy had such a detrimental effect on Qing Jing’s wards and barriers that it drew the attention even of the eastern demonic clans. My guess is that they are looking to take advantage of the ivy in order to infiltrate the peaks. Qing Jing in particular has a great many things they might take interest in.”

It makes sense. Eastern demons are less volatile that many other clans, they are collectors, usually looking to steal rather than conquer. When they set their eyes on a target, it is almost always because they are looking to strengthen their ranks and widen their collection of powerful plants, poisons, medicines, and anything else of that nature. Next to Qian Cao, Qing Jing is certainly the most abundant in that area.

“Should I not have been informed of this? Given that I am the strategist of the sect?” Shen Qingqiu asks, a little acid slipping out in his tone. He is not happy about being left in the dark, knowing so little while his friend it out there seeking his possible death.

Luckily, Mu Qingfang has long since built a tolerance to his venom and gives him an unimpressed look. “It was never the intention to keep the information from you. We sent you missives about it. Did you not receive them?

“No, I didn’t.” Shen Qingqiu frowns.

“Shizun!” Comes a shriek from one of his kids, he sighs and looks over to see a Bai Zhan boy leaning into one of his disciple’s space with a wet brush and a sly grin. “Tell him to stop!”

“I’d better go…” he gestures to Mu Qingfang as if to say, I gotta deal with this. He gets and understanding nod in return.

The problem is resolved with some firm words and a couple minutes of mediating. At this point, most of the children have finished their paintings to their satisfaction and are at the end of their, admittedly small, attention spans, hence the pestering. Shen Qingqiu collects their work and dismisses them for lunch time, then leads Mu Qingfang back to Liu Qingge’s house to look at the twin suns’ blessing. He’d like a professional opinion. 

He feels strange inviting someone into Liu Qingge’s house without him there, so he leads Mu Qingfang around and to the garden, upon seeing which his jaw actually drops. It’s only a second before the healer snaps his mouth shut again and looks around with wide eyes. It’s the most surprised Shen Qingqiu thinks he’s ever seen the man.

Amused, Shen Qingqiu excuses himself to go inside and make tea for them both. While he’s in there, he debates what to do with the paintings, which are still quite wet. He decides to set his own disciple’s work on the floor in his guest room, and finds a line and clothes hanger to hang the Bai Zhan works on in the main room. He’ll take them down when they dry.

Oolong is really the only option available that won’t put them to sleep, so Shen Qingqiu prepares a pot and heads back outside.

Mu Qingfang has sat himself down beside the table. “This is remarkable,” he says, still looking around in awe. “These are all from the egg?”

“Yes, mostly, although that planter over there is for the things other we decide to plant.” Shen Qingqiu pours the tea for them both as he replies.

“We?”

“Liu-shidi and I have been working on this garden together for quite some time.” There’s that damn fluttering again. Shen Qingqiu shakes his head to rid himself of the feeling.

“Liu Qingge? Gardening?” Had Mu Qingfang been any less poised of a man, Shen Qingqiu thinks he may have spit out his tea.

He doesn’t know why it’s so satisfying when he hums and nods with a serene “Yes.”

“I never thought I’d see the day…”

Shen Qingqiu hates to interrupt his martial brother mid-gawking, but he still has some questions that need answering. “Mu-shidi, I’d like to ask some more questions, if that’s alright.” 

Mu Qingfang nods his assent, sobering himself once again.

“Please tell me more about the demonic activity. How many are there? What have they been doing? How dangerous are they?”

A sigh. “It seems like there are only a handful of them. As you know, though, even a handful of skilled eastern demons is enough to pose a significant threat to the townspeople. They seem to just be waiting now, but they have been spotted in the wooded area at the base of the mountain and have had several run-ins with civilians that stirred up quite the panic.” 

Shen Qingqiu presses his lips into a thin line. “This does not sound like a one person job, Shidi. We shouldn’t have sent him alone.”

Mu Qingfang looks out at the garden and then over Shen Qingqiu thoughtfully before raising his browns ever so slightly, as if in realization. Of what, he doesn’t know. “Liu-shidi is not just any person, though,” he says softly, “he is a war god, and he can take care of himself.”

Shen Qingqiu frowns, “… I don’t know. This isn’t anything he’s faced before.” But Mu Qingfang and Yue Qingyuan would never have allowed the Bai Zhan Peak Lord to go alone if they weren’t sure he could handle it. He tries to let that thought comfort him enough to turn the conversation to the various plants in the garden that have caught the healer’s fancy.

Shen Qingqiu entertains Mu Qingfang until dinner time comes around and Binghe comes knocking. Mu Qingfang concurs with Shen Qingqiu’s estimation on the twin suns’ blessing that it should be ready within the next couple days, and is sent off with some samples of the plants in the garden.

“Shizun!” Lou Binghe bounds up to him, seeming less distraught than he usually is having been away from Shen Qingqiu for so long. What a relief. Maybe some distance would prove to be healing for his disciple, given his concerning attachment style. “This disciple apologizes, this one ran out of ingredients for dinner.” Shen Qingqiu brushes aside the fact that Binghe must have brought ingredients along from Qing Jing as one of his essentials.

“That’s alright, Binghe, this master was planning on eating with everyone else tonight anyway.” Bai Zhan dinners are one big gathering, usually in the dining hall, but have now been moved to “The Pit” in response to the rise in numbers.

When he arrives, all the disciples have already begun eating and wave to him excitedly with their mouths full. It’s not very proper for scholars, but he thinks he’ll let it go this time. He grabs himself food, much to Binghe’s disappointment, and sits down on a rock by the fire. 

The Pit has a lively atmosphere, illuminated only by the enormous bon fire in the center of a dusty training arena. The disciples have all dragged rocks or logs to sit on, if not that, they sit on the ground, munching happily on some kind of meat. 

Within minutes, a debate has broken out between Yang An and Ming Fang. It is very heated, but no one has thrown fists yet, so Shen Qingqiu doesn’t feel the need to step in.

“Yeah? Well, our shizun has faced monsters way cooler than yours.” Ah, I don’t know about that Ming Fan! “And he’s way better at telling stories.”

“No way!” Yang An looks affronted, “Our shizun is the strongest one, there’s no way your shizun has beaten cooler beasts. And storytelling’s not that big a deal anyway!” So he’s not denying that Liu Qingge lacks a bit in the story area. Shen Qingqiu smirks at that a bit. Public speaking never was his shidi’s strong suit.

“Psh,” Ming Fang scoffs, crossing his arms, “you’re just mad cause my shizun is better at telling stories and fighting monsters.”

Somehow, Shen Qingqiu has been coerced into telling the story of one of his battles. He sighs and straightens his back. “Shall I tell you the story of how your Liu Qingge and this master defeated the Three-Horned Bull Serpent?” 

An enthusiastic chorus of agreements nearly splits his eardrums. He chuckles fondly. 

“Then, this is how it goes…”

Notes:

Sorry for the lack of LQG in this chapter, but he'll be back next time along with some action! Very exciting:)

Your kudos and comments are so lovely! I absolutely love them and they keep me motivated! Thank you so much for your feedback, don't hold back!

Chapter 11

Notes:

There are probably going to be one or two chapters after this. This fic completely ran away from me and now it's like twice as long as I initially thought it would be.

Anyway, here's the update! Hope you enjoy:)

There is something wrong. 

Shen Qingqiu feels it before the sun has even fully risen above the horizon, cool blue light bathing the mountain in a mysterious kind of majesty. The strange, prickling sensation rips him from his fitful sleep and has him rushing out the front door in his sleeping robes, a thicker outer robe wrapped quickly around him. He stares out in the direction of Qing Jing, squinting as if that will allow him to see any better through the clouds.

There’s something wrong. He’s sure of it. 

An itching, nagging hunch bites at the back of his mind and quickens his heartbeat as he searches his memories for something that is off. He tries to make up his mind about whether or not he has time to get dressed, but ultimately the answer is no, so he ties up his hair quickly with the first thing he can find, and flies off toward Qing Jing feeling very, very uneasy.

Thoughts shoot through his mind faster than he can keep up with them. How he didn’t receive Mu Qingfang’s letters, how the ivy had grown so fast so suddenly when they thought it had been under control. There’s no way any of that was a coincidence.

Silently, Shen Qingqiu touches down on Qing Jing. The peak is almost unrecognizable, covered so thoroughly in thick, deep green ivy that it’s easier to scramble over it than try to push through. It is darker on the peak than usual, too, as the ivy has climbed its way up the tall bamboo trees and formed a dense canopy that casts deep shadows. The oppressive weight of demonic energy hangs in the air. His uneasiness grows, and he holds Xiu Ya higher, walking as silently as he can manage.

There’s something else on the peak, he can sense its demonic qi moving around sneakily. How had he not sensed it before? It must have been on the peak before if it had been able to intercept his messaged as well as feed the ivy. The thought of having left his disciples alone on the peak with a demon running around make him feel sick to the stomach.

Seeing as these are eastern demons, Shen Qingqiu makes his way toward the library and its attached garden, figuring it to be the mostly likely place for the demon to be, if he’s not too late already. The library has an attached building that holds many of their valuable artifacts as well as plants and poisons that are there to be studies and recorded, all things that would entice such an attack from an eastern demon tribe. Now that he thinks about it, the library and gardens were the least affected areas, despite the garden being the best place for withering moon ivy to grow. The puzzle pieces are falling into place, and he doesn’t think he likes the picture.

Suddenly he hears a high pitched noise and feels a sharp pain in his shoulder. Shen Qingqiu lets out a grunt and whirls around, coming face to face with the demon. 

He only has time to observe it for a moment; clothed in earthy tones, its skin a pale green, the demon has a bow slung over its back and darts on its belt.

In the next instant, Shen Qingqiu is blocking a barrage of darts, whirling and dodging in a fury. With a swish of his hand, he sends a hundred or so leaves at his attacker, but by the time they clear the air, the demon has moved again, and they imbed themselves in the ground. It’s quicker than he'd imagined it would be, and quieter too. This time an arrow comes whistling from his right that he just barely dodges. This demon seems to prefer long range, so Shen Qingqiu tries to close the distance, making long, sweeping arcs with Xiu Ya that have it retreating quickly. The demon lets out a shrill cry when Shen Qingqiu catches its arm with his blade, coming away with dark blood.

The demon brandishes a spherical object from a pouch, a poisonous gas, most likely, and Shen Qingqiu knocks it away with a careful burst of qi so that it bursts harmlessly far away from them. Using this moment to his advantage, Shen Qingqiu presses closer in a rush of movement until the demon is caught with Xiu Ya against its neck. He wastes no time in beginning his interrogation.

“What are you looking for?” Shen Qingqiu hisses, low and dangerous. The demon only bares its teeth in a terrible grin, its white-less eyes gleaming. Shen Qingqiu can see that its skin has texture similar to that of smooth bark that cracks and stretches around its smiling lips (usually, he would be fascinated by this, but even he knows how to keep his priorities straight in this case).

Shen Qingqiu presses harder until a fat drop of dark liquid trails down the silver of his blade, “A shame, the thing we want seems to be on another peak.” The demon’s voice is reedy and high, wheezing as Xiu Ya restricts its air flow. “Immortal Master Shen should have stayed where he was.” Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widen in realization. The egg. 

A strangled gasp is torn from his throat as he feels a deep burning pain in his side. He slashes the demon’s throat and looks down to see a knife imbedded in his side. The demon falls with a thump and Shen Qingqiu pushes himself away with a groan. Damnit. The poison is already starting to affect him, spreading a burning, tingling pain all throughout his torso. This speed shouldn’t be allowed, at least give him a couple of minutes! As he does for most things, Shen Qingqiu decides to blame Airplane for another OP poison.

But Shen Qingqiu has no time to complain about Airplane's shitty writing, he has to get back to Bai Zhan. He’d been stupid to leave so quickly without thinking. He mentally berates himself as he searches quickly for something to stop the bleeding among the many herbs in the garden. 

The eastern demons are wily and cunning; more likely to choose strategy and cheap tricks over brute strength. He supposes they’re quite like him, as well as the original goods. He should have known this might be a diversion. It had been too obvious. The demons would have learned a long time ago that the egg wasn’t on Qing Jing if they had someone on the inside. 

Had they also lured Liu Qingge away for the same purpose? The possibility hits him like a punch to the gut and spurs him to move even faster.

It had all been a plan, and he left the disciples alone on Bai Zhan. Let Liu Qingge go down the mountain by himself! How could he have been so stupid? Panic wells up in Shen Qingqiu's throat and he urges himself to move faster.

Grabbing some herbs from the garden and quickly shoving them into the hole in his abdomen, Shen Qingqiu is back on his sword and flying as fast as he can, hoping against hope that he won’t be too late.

By the time he arrives, there are yells of alarm ringing through the air as disciples gather around Liu Qingge’s house. He can see two demons facing them, strange, thorned swords brandished. The kids are all standing valiantly between the demons and where they want to go, but this is far too high level for them. A couple of older disciples from both peaks lay off to the side, clutching some limb or another, but alive. As far as he can tell, they are not bleeding, only bruised, so he allows some terror to drain away for focus to take its place. He’s glad the demons haven’t used any gasses yet. 

Shen Qingqiu lands in front of the disciples, robes billowing in the wind and arms splayed out to make a barrier. “All of you!” He yells, ignoring the pain in his side, “Get back to the training grounds. Someone alert the sect leader and bring Peak Lord Mu.” There is scuffling behind him as his orders are carried out, they all know better than to go against his words in a situation like this, trust him enough to know that he will take care of it.

“Shizun-!” Comes Lou Binghe’s voice, protesting. Well, all but Binghe.

“Do as this master says, Binghe!” When Lou Binghe doesn’t leave, Shen Qingqiu addresses his head disciple, “Ming Fan, get him out of here.”

All the disciples are gone within moments and Shen Qingqiu is left alone with the demons, both much larger than the one he faced just moments ago. But now that the element of surprise is not against him, he feels much more confident in his odds. The wound in his side is still a problem though, the herbs he used reduced the bleeding, but it is inflamed and burning— it’s extremely painful. His shoulder is fairing a bit better, the dart from before only managed to scratch through his skin, but it’s still enough that the poison is already in his system and his left arm is beginning to loose feeling. He’d been careless.

Nonetheless, Shen Qingqiu is a peak lord, and two demons are nothing.

He lets the stillness settle the air for a moment as he waits for the right moment. When he’s done, he makes quick work of them, cutting them down in only a handful of movements. He takes them down efficiently as he can without the use of one arm, separating one’s head from its body, and blowing a hole through the other with a blast of qi before finally swinging Xiu Ya in a wide are to flick the blood off of the pale steel. It didn’t take long, but he’s huffing by the end of it. Where the demons lie in the grass, Shen Qingqiu can see that their hair does not look like hair, instead it looks somewhat like seaweed or long grass. One of them has sturdy hooves instead of feet, and the other bleeds a dark green color. 

Any other day Shen Qingqiu would be far more interested in these demons, but right now the pain in his side is now so great that he can’t help but sway before falling to his knees, as embarrassing as that is. What is it with him and getting poisoned? Honestly! He’s just glad his disciples aren’t around to see his moment of weakness. Moments later, two forms swoop down to land beside him, it’s Yue Qingyuan and Mu Qingfang.

“Xiao Jiu!” Shen Qingqiu doesn’t have the energy to respond to that with anything more than a glare.

“Shen-shixiong!” Mu Qingfang sounds alarmed as he kneels beside him to begin working on his injuries, “What happened?

Shen Qingqiu thinks it should be pretty obvious what happened at this point, but that is neither here nor there at the moment. He groans as Mu Qingfang expertly pokes and prods at his bleeding side until he wants to curse. He swats the offending hands away and pushes himself to his feet. 

“We need to go down the mountain, Liu-shidi could be in trouble.” Shen Qingqiu begins to walk (hobble) away, but is held back by a hand around his wrist.

“There is nothing you can do for Liu Qingge in your condition.” Mu Qingfang’s voice is unforgiving, but there’s a knowing look in his eyes. “With luck, he has already finished his mission.”

“He’s right… Shen-shidi,” Yue Qingyuan fixes him with those distressed eyes of his, “Liu-shidi can handle himself.”

How could he just say that like it’s so obvious? Like there’s nothing to be worried about? They had no idea there were already demons on the mountain, demons who had probably been in and out countless times right under their noses! Shen Qingqiu is absolutely right to worry. Who’s to say the situation down the mountain isn’t also unexpected?

Shen Qingqiu shakes off the healer’s arm aggressively and spits, “Then you stay here. I’ll go.”

“I’m afraid not, Shixiong.” Mu Qingfang tightens his grip and frowns as he brandishes a needle threateningly. “I’ll use it if I have to. The poison has already set in and it is imperative that you treat it now.”

Whatever happened to ‘healers do no harm’? Huh?! Shen Qingqiu never would have expected his shidi to have such an evil side! He’s not even that hurt, he swears!

“Don’t you dare,” he growls and tugs harder. There’s a tight pain in his chest and he can’t tell if it’s from the poison or from panic. “I’m going,” he rips his arm out of Mu Qingfang’s surprisingly firm grip.

Shen Qingqiu turns on his heel with purpose, a severe expression on his face, and when he does, right there in front of him is Liu Qingge, a little rough, but safe and sound.

All the air leaves his body in a rush of relief, and he really wants to curse. Fuck! You scared me, I thought you might be in trouble! Shit! Or something like that. In reality, he doesn’t say any of that, but he does stride forward with a fierce glare and a prickling sting in his eyes. He punches Liu Qingge in the shoulder. 

“You idiot…” he says, but there’s no heat left in him to say it with, so it comes out tender and raw and oh so relieved. He wants to say more, to ask if Liu Qingge is alright, if anything unexpected happened, but trying to do so brings with it a frightening heat behind his eyes and a lump in his throat, so he stays quiet and blinks hard. He had really been terrified, thinking Liu Qingge might not have been okay. This heart of his… it’s really too troublesome.

Just like that, the adrenaline rushes out of his body and he begins to feel his strength leaving with it. But no matter how weak he feels, his thin face could never handle collapsing right here, so he walks back to Mu Qingfang with a straight back to submit to his treatment, leaving Liu Qingge behind in his dust, face slack with worry.

 

.

 

Shen Qingqiu sits quietly in a sterile smelling room on Qian Cao as Mu Qingfang’s nimble fingers work a bitter smelling salve into his wounds. According to Mu Qingfang, they caught the poison early enough that he should be fully recovered in two-to-three days. Thanks to the wonders of xianxia medicine, he already feels much better. 

Luo Binghe has been at his side every second without fail and has wept onto his legs wretchedly enough that someone might think Shen Qingqiu was dying. “This disciple has failed shizun!” He cries, “Begging shizun to punish this one for his failure!” Shen Qingqiu sighs in exasperation, but pets his disciple’s fluffy hair nonetheless. It must have been pretty shocking, after all, what happened today.

“Binghe has not failed this master,” Shen Qingqiu says gently, “it is this master’s duty to protect his disciples, not the other way around.” Lou Binghe sniffles and fixes him with sparkling eyes and a vigorous nod.

Binghe’s fretting is sweet, but eventually it gets difficult for Mu Qingfang to work around the sticky boy, so he is asked to go fetch this or retrieve that to keep him busy, and he is all too happy to be helpful.

Mu Qingfang tells him he’s well enough at this point to go about his usual day with mild discomfort, but that he should stay for a couple more hours for the final checks and such. This news is a relief, but at the same time, Shen Qingqiu’s usual day is exhausting at the best of times, and he would really just like to rest.

His mind wanders to the look on Liu Qingge’s face just moments ago; relaxed and almost relieved, as if Shen Qingqiu hadn’t been about to pass out from worry. Although his face had twisted into confusion and concern when Shen Qingqiu punched him (he admits that may not have been the best way to deal with his own emotions at the time and he does feel guilty). Shen Qingqiu doesn’t know what he would’ve done if he hadn’t come back, and he knows even less what to do now that he’s back. Probably against his better judgment, he hadn’t actually thought far enough ahead to figure out what he would do once his… crush (ugh, god that’s weird), came back.

Shen Qingqiu stalls and fidgets in the bed, opening and closing his fan methodically until he can’t help but ask, “How is Liu-shidi?” 

A look of disapproval flits over Binghe’s face as he washes a cloth for Mu Qingfang to wipe as his shoulder.

A playful light dances in Mu Qingfang’s eyes as he reaches for the roll of bandages that has Shen Qingqiu squinting skeptically, “Quite unscathed,” the I told you do goes unsaid. “I told him you might like to see him, so he should be by any minute now.”

He what? The last person he wants to see right now is Liu Qingge! His head is already a mess right now as it is, he doesn’t want to have to deal with… feelings too! He just barely holds himself back from protesting.

“Mu-shidi!” Shen Qingqiu complains when the healer leaves and drags Luo Binghe along with him. Just before the door is shut, Mu Qingfang throws a wink over his shoulder and that is so strange. What- that is, deeply disturbing and he never wants to see it again. 

He’s not ready to face that person again so soon! He doesn’t know what it’ll do to him.

But fate is never on his side, and Liu Qingge arrives shortly after Mu Qingfang leaves, his brow is wrinkled ever so slightly in what Shen Qingqiu thinks is concern. It’s like realizing his feelings has unlocked a whole new level of handsomeness, and looking at Liu Qingge is so blinding that Shen Qingqiu almost feels the need to block his eyes. The war god practically glows in the medical ward, even covered as he is in dirt, demon blood, and water (for some reason). Those looks are seriously OP! Shen Qingqiu can already feel his face heating up looking at that perfect face, so he averts his eyes. 

Liu Qingge just stares for a while at first, a worried frown creasing his perfect eyebrows. His eyes trail slowly from Shen Qingqiu's shoulder, to his side, to his hands, and finally to his face. The intense scrutiny is enough to have Shen Qingqiu squirming and blushing slightly. Liu Qingge shifts from side to side for a moment, hesitating for some reason. Then a sudden pressure on Shen Qingqiu’s legs startles him enough to jolt. “Here.” The war god has tossed a filthy looking qiankun pouch onto him, dirtying the nice white sheets. Liu Qingge nods once before he turns and leaves just as quickly as he came, a slight pinkness in his ears. Everything is done in such a rush that Shen Qingqiu feels like he might get whiplash.

A heavy sigh leaves him as the door swings closed. Liu Qingge really will be the death of him.

Shen Qingqiu turns to the bag and pokes it skeptically. He nearly yelps when it moves under his finger. What the fuck…

The cogs in Shen Qingqiu’s are running full tilt as he tried to fathom what exactly his shidi could have brought him that would be moving in this bag. He can’t come up with anything. After (very carefully) prying open the bag and peeking inside, Shen Qingqiu momentarily looses all his resolve. His mouth rounds into a silent, delighted gasp before he can help it.

In the bag are about a half a dozen red-finned murder koi! Each longer than the length of his hand and sporting colorful scales and vibrant red fins, hence the name. The little things flop around uncomfortably in the sac Liu Qingge has shoved them in, sloshing water out and onto his lap.

Red-finned murder koi are an endangered species, as far as he knows. They are mostly found deep in the caves of the eastern woodlands or in very secluded ponds, and are mildly poisonous if eaten. Their fins are incredibly sharp and they get their name from their aggressive temperament when met with a threat. To be honest, they don’t serve much of a purpose in terms of magical cures or other mysterious properties, and they won’t even manage to kill anyone even without a core, but they’re really cute, in an ugly, rough-around-the-edges kind of way. Just funky little dudes, and Shen Qingqiu is immediately enamored. He thinks they’ll fit in perfectly in the garden on Bai Zhan.

But before long, the smile on his face falls away with a vicious tug on his heart. He flops dramatically back onto the bed. Shidi… you’re making it hard for me to let you go. 

How is he supposed to ignore his feelings when Liu Qingge goes and does things like this?! This is sickeningly sweet to the point where it feels like the butterflies in his stomach might just burst through! Shen Qingqiu doesn’t actually think he can handle this— right now or any time soon. Maybe he needs to separate himself, hopefully then his feelings will just fizzle out and they can go back to normal. Maybe then he would be able to be friends without hoping for something that will never happen.

Ugh— what depressing thoughts. Now the butterflies are dying painfully in his stomach, and there’s nothing he wants more than to curl up in his bed, drink tea, and go to sleep.

Notes:

Ahh! Sorry for the lack of LQG yet again, he'll get his turn in the next update, I promise.

Strap yourselves in for a teensy tiny bit of angst coming up next chapter, because Shen Qingqiu is gonna have to deal with his feelings, and we all know how well that goes.

As always, your comments are so lovely and fulfilling to read, I appreciate anything you guys have to say, so please don't hold back!

Chapter 12

Notes:

Hi! Sorry for the late update, this chapter gave me a lot of trouble. I had to rewrite it twice and I'm still not completely satisfied, but I hope you enjoy some LQG pov!

Thanks to Shen Qingqiu’s little information session before he left, Liu Qingge was able to avoid any poisonings and generally completed his task fairly easily. It took him most of the day to find the demons, hiding out in one of the many caves at the base of the mountain. By the time he did, he had been raring to go, but the actual battle left something to be desired, in his opinion.

The demons had been waiting for him when he came, but there were only about ten of them or so, and none of them were as fierce as a demon from the north or as quick as southern demons, and they relied too much on gasses and pollens. They had released a number of poisonous gasses in preparation, but he solved that problem by holding his breath until the fight was over, and that proved to be somewhat of a challenge by the end. Overall, in terms of strength, Liu Qingge places them at about fifth place compared to the other demons he’s faced before. An enjoyable fight, but not enough of a challenge.

The fight over, sun setting as he flies back to Cang Qiong. He’s finished much earlier than had been expected of him. As he flies, he spot a town below him, just beginning to light the lanterns for the night. He can see the hustle and bustle of the market even from here, and his sister’s advice rings through his ears. Considering for a moment more, Liu Qingge redirects his sword towards the town. Maybe he can find something Shen Qingqiu would like.

He looks and looks from stall to stall, carefully considering each and every product and ultimately deciding against them all. There are stalls selling fine fabrics and delicate wines that holler and beckon him over, but Liu Qingge thinks Shen Qingqiu already has a lot of clothing, and wine doesn’t feel like the right choice, so he moves on. He gets excited when he spots a shop selling folding fans, but upon inspecting the wares, even he can tell they are poorly made, the paper pealing from the wood in places and the varnish patchy. He turns away with a frustrated glare that pulls a whimper from the merchant.

There are merchants proudly displaying paintings and poems penned in elegant script and Shen Qingqiu likes both of those things, but Liu Qingge is not a good judge of what is quality work and what is not, so these, too, are a failure. Really, he thinks he would like to bring the peak lord food. It’s a safe option, Shen Qingqiu loves to eat, but Liu Qingge has no heating talismans and thinks anything warm will be cold by the time he gets back.

This is far more difficult than he’d imagined. Liu Qingge continues to look deep into the night, unwilling to give up. Finally, the ship owners begin to put away their wares with nervous glances towards the tall, intimidating cultivator, absolutely seething in the middle of the street.

Liu Qingge stalks into the surrounding wood, frustrated by his lack of success and figures he could hunt something to let off some steam.

This proves to be an effective decision, and Liu Qingge regains control over his emotions after a good couple hours of hunting. He catches a horned rabbit, which he cooks and eats, and tracks a large red-eyed quick-stag. His tracking brings him to a clearing in the wood, where the thick trees give way to a shallow pool of water, slowly cycled around by a lazy stream feeding into it. The moon shines brightly on the water, illuminating the surroundings enough that Liu Qingge can make out the strange creatures swimming in the pool.

Creeping closer, Liu Qingge stoops down to inspect the creature, some of them glowing ever so slightly. They are fish, he thinks, but he’s never seen any like them. He supposes they could have been elegant in another life, long and flowing in shape, but they have an almost sinister look to them with fins sharp enough to cut and eyes bright with what looks like bloodlust. They are in all sorts of colors, but all have red fins, and are about as long as the length of his hand. He stares at them as they swim around, eyeing him lazily and suspiciously. 

These. He thinks with vigor, these are perfect. 

Liu Qingge deems them mostly harmless and wastes no time whipping out a qiankun pouch and giving chase, knee deep in the pond. At which point he discovers that these fish are really very fast and slippery. They give him more trouble than the demons had; he sustains what seems like dozens of small cuts in the process, and it takes him until morning to catch a sufficient number of them.

 

.

 

The fish have been well received. Shen Qingqiu gives them a home in Liu Qingge’s garden as soon as is physically possible, saying they will be moved into his own pond behind the bamboo cottage once the ivy has been removed. Apparently they are murder koi, and Shen Qingqiu finds them incredibly cute. He also gives Liu Qingge a heavy scolding for his improper handling of said fish.

Herein lies the problem. The scolding is weak at best. There is no heat or teasing behind Shen Qingqiu’s words as he lectures Liu Qingge about how certain fish need certain water or whatever. He fidgets and sways from side to side and can’t hold eye contact for more than a second before rushing off back to Qing Jing and clearly, there is something wrong with Shen Qingqiu. There is no tea had that night.

When Liu Qingge drops by Qing Jing to… nothing really, he just ended up there feeling worried, he nearly sends Shen Qingqiu into a qi deviation just by standing behind him. Liu Qingge is genuinely surprised when that Luo kid doesn’t bark in warning. The scholar laughs painfully and looks around for escape or excuse with a strained, Liu-shidi! What brings you here? Liu Qingge barely opens his mouth before Shen Qingqiu hurriedly says, Unfortunately, we’re not prepared to take visitors right now due to the ivy haha, sorry. 

This is a ridiculous excuse, and so obvious that it sends a sharp, unexplainable stab through Liu Qingge’s heart. The twin suns’ blessing has been planted in three strategic locations on the peak, cutting the ivy off from its source of spiritual energy. Weakened, the ivy is far easier to remove, and the disciples are making quick work of it. Half of the ivy has already been cleared, and Liu Qingge has sent his own disciples along to help speed up the process. Now almost all of the buildings have been relieved of ivy and are in the process of repairs that are all quick-going. The ivy doesn't seem to have cause any damage to the surrounding vegetation, thankfully leaving Shen Qingqiu's beloved bamboo forest unharmed, vibrant and lush as always.

Not to mention, the peak is completely livable now, and all disciples and masters have moved back to their respective homes (Liu Qingge was a little sad to see him go, if he’s honest, and he saw many not-so-subtle pouts on his own disciple’s faces when Shen Qingqiu left). 

The process is incredibly lacking in the physical altercations he expected. His disciples and those of Qing Jing work together (sort of, they mostly worked in different areas), with many complaints and much bickering, but nothing has come to fists. The youngest of both groups seem to get on mostly fine, it’s the older one’s that are the problem.

Liu Qingge doesn’t communicate his doubts about Shen Qingqiu’s argument beyond casting a look at the piles of drying ivy by the side of the bamboo house. 

By the looks of it, Shen Qingqiu also thinks his excuse is lacking, going by the deep flush of his cheeks, the nervous handling of his fan, and his constant stream of slightly crazed laughter. He acts so strangely that Liu Qingge thinks he might already have entered a minor qi deviation. Worried for his friend, Liu Qingge tries to take his temperature, but the act of putting his hand on the other’s forehead startles him so badly he freezes and sputters incoherently before his face reddens even further and he smacks the offending hand away.

Chuckling as he shamelessly sticks with his obvious lie, Shen Qingqiu shifts for side to side some more before he scurries off. His guard dog trails behind him loyally before shooting Liu Qingge a smug smirk.

Liu Qingge has, on many occasions, kicked children, but he thinks it would be especially satisfying to kick that one.

Thinking it’s better to be safe, Liu Qingge drops by Qian Can to tip Mu Qingfang off on Shen Qingqiu’s strange behavior and the threat of a possible qi deviation. The peak lord is significantly less worried than he should be. He looks almost amused, but says he’ll check it out.

Liu Qingge doesn’t understand what could have inspired this change in Shen Qingqiu, but it is drastic nearly on the level of his change after the fever (maybe that’s a little dramatic but hey, he hadn’t cared back then). The fan has made a resounding return, and Liu Qingge ponders what would happen if he snapped it in half. They gotten past that, hadn’t they? They’d made progress, he thought. Where did all of it go?

Liu Qingge feels like he’s losing him, and it’s terrifying.

Following a long and boring Peak Lord meeting, during which he paid no attention, Liu Qingge attempts to catch Shen Qingqiu before he leaves. Upon seeing him coming, Shen Qingqiu actually breaks into a sprint. Liu Qingge gives chase without hesitation, but as soon as he rounds the corner, Shen Qingqiu has disappeared, leaving an alarmed Shang Qinghua in his place. This is a new trick. Liu Qingge doesn’t know where he learned it, but he would rather have seen it during a spar, this is just aggravating. 

If he can’t catch Shen Qingqiu, Shang Qinghua is the next best thing. Liu Qingge has neither time nor patience, and he has never once given a shit about diplomacy or inter-sect relations, so he doesn’t hesitate when he grabs the squirrely cultivator by the front of his robes. “What’s wrong with Shen Qingqiu?” He asks.

Shang Qinghua squeaks as he struggles weakly, he’s already sweating nervous bullets. “Wrong?” He squeaks, “What does Shidi mean? This one doesn’t-”

Liu Qingge doesn’t think highly of Shang Qinghua. He is cowardly and meek and always denies Liu Qingge’s requests for new weapons. But Shen Qingqiu likes him, so that has to count for something.

Liu Qingge shakes him once, mindful of his pitifully weak core, “He’s upset.” He says it as a statement only because he’s not quite brave enough to ask it as a question. 

“No, not upset,” the An Ding peak lord shakes his head vigorously, Liu Qingge doesn’t think he’s lying.

“He’s avoiding me.” He amends.

Shang Qinghua hesitates, “I wouldn’t say he’s… avoiding you.”

“He is.”

“Yeah, he is.”

So that’s it. Yes, that makes sense, he’s being avoided. 

Except it doesn’t, does it? Why is he being avoided? He doesn’t think he’s done anything worthy of this. Liu Qingge turns to ask Shang Qinghua why Shen Qingqiu is avoiding him, but the man has already slipped away and disappeared around a corner. Credit where credit is due, he may be a coward, but he’s a quick one.

Avoided? He can’t help but feel a little betrayed. The feeling stings and takes him by surprise so he grabs it tight and shoves it into a box far away.

This is unacceptable. Liu Qingge will have to put a stop to it right away.

Shen Qingqiu decided to be his friend, so he should at least see it through, shouldn’t he? Even before the fever, when he had been unbearable and scummy, Shen Qingqiu had never been one to do things half-way, so what gives? Liu Qingge is going to find out.

In terms of ambushing a target, one must choose their placement and timing wisely. Qing Jing is not an option, as if gives Shen Qingqiu the home-ground advantage as well as a small platoon of small menaces without regard for his life or their own if it means rescuing their master from Bai Zhan’s evil clutches. Shen Qingqiu will have to be on the move is Liu Qingge is to catch him off guard.

This in mind, Liu Qingge accosts Shen Qingqiu the next time they cross paths on the rainbow bridge. Liu Qingge drops in front of the scholarly lord in the middle of his leisurely stroll, surprising him so badly that he jumps.

Originally, Liu Qingge had planned on challenging the other to a fight, finding that to be a pretty solid method of smoothing things over with Shen Qingqiu. But it looks like the other lord is currently suffering from the effects of Without a Cure, so fighting isn’t an option. This leaves Liu Qingge with one dreaded option: words.

Or that would be the plan if Shen Qingqiu hadn’t broken into a sprint towards Qiong Ding. It would be dishonorable to follow on his sword, so Liu Qingge runs after him resolutely. He is confused by this turn of events, he and Shen Qingqiu both know well and good that Liu Qingge is by far the fastest between them.

“SHEN QINGQIU!” Liu Qingge roars as his query busts through the gates of Qiong Ding Peak, much to the distress of the many disciples scurrying about.

Shen Qingqiu has all but abandoned his lofty peak lord image and that, above all else, might be the most concerning thing he’s seen yet. Not to worry, dear martial brother, this shidi will help.

A mad dash through the courtyard and around the obnoxious statue of the previous sect leader in the middle of a well groomed garden has them at an impasse. Shen Qingqiu stands on one side while Liu Qingge stand on the other, both twitching one direction or another as if they might suddenly dash around, arms splayed to their sides. It’s a smart move on Shen Qingqiu’s end, and explains his strange decision to run in the face of a pursuer with superior speed. As expected of Cang Qiong’s strategist, Liu Qingge appreciates.

“Shen Qingqiu!” Liu Qingge barks, trying to see past the huge statue, “Stop running!”

Shen Qingqiu huffs and puffs as subtly as he can manage as he tries to recollect the broken pieces of his image. His hair is in slight disarray from the run and his cheeks are red from exertion. They are getting many confused and startled stares from passing elders and students. Some very interested looking Xian Shu disciples stop to watch the show, murmuring excitedly.

“Would you if you were me?” Shen Qingqiu sounds incredulous as he shouts from across the way. He’s taken out his fan and flutters it furiously.

This is a somewhat fair point, but Liu Qingge isn’t in the habit of suddenly avoiding his friends without a word of explanation, so he doesn’t qualify to answer the hypothetical.

“Shen Qingqiu,” Liu Qingge feels his blood begin to rush from both the excitement of the chase and anger at Shen Qingqiu’s avoidance, “fight me.”

An audible gasp erupts from the direction of the Xian Shu girls, followed by excited hushing. Shen Qingqiu throws them a quick and ineffectual glare, but doesn’t answer.

“When your energy is better, fight me.” Liu Qingge repeats. 

“…No.” 

The reply nearly knocks Liu Qingge off his feet. What is this? Thus far, Shen Qingqiu has never failed to rise to the bait of a challenge— before or after the fever! It has historically been a fool proof way to get the other man to fight, or at least sneer and spew unkind words.

Liu Qingge frowns, taken aback and at a bit of a loss. “Fight me.” He repeats, just in case.

“No!” Shen Qingqiu is firmer in his declaration this time, “Why would I?” He looks skittish, but Liu Qingge can’t see him so well with the statue and the big, ugly bushes in the way. Really, those are ugly bushes. Tall and green and perfectly manicured into sharp angles. Liu Qingge mentally shakes his head at the useless expenditure of energy to maintain something that doesn’t even look good. His own bushes are much better.

Just as Liu Qingge is about to regale Shen Qingqiu with his very solid reasoning, because you always do, or, come on, just fight me, a soft and indulgent voice rises up from his left. Liu Qingge clicks his tongue and sheathes his sword, there will be no fight today.

“Shen-shidi, Liu-shidi,” Yue Qingyuan saunter’s in with his hands folded behind his back and that mild smile on his face. He looks between the two of them apprehensively.

This is over for today, he knows. There is nothing that Yue Qingyuan will not begrudge Shen Qingqiu and even less he won’t defend him from. Those two have a strange history that no one but them understands, and nobody wants to either.

Liu Qingge doesn’t deign the sect leader with an answer, instead salutes briefly in greeting with a low, “Zhangmen-shixiong.” Liu Qingge then stalks away with footsteps he knows are excessively loud, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He’ll try again tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes and try again he does, with similar results. It seems news of this little game of theirs has reached across the peaks, and as soon as the two of them reach Qian Cao this time, Qi Qingqi and Wei Qingwei are already descending on their swords to get in on the action.

This time, Shen Qingqiu has elected to shamelessly hide behind a tired looking Mu Qingfang. Without a Cure doesn’t seem to be an issue today, so Liu Qingge has hope that his challenge will do the trick this time. They’ve missed their weekly meridian clearing session, he remembers with a frown.

“Hand him over, Mu Qingfang,” Liu Qingge seethes, pointing his sword at Shen Qingqiu. To his surprise, Mu Qingfang does not move over, it seems he has taken Shen Qingqiu’s side in this ordeal. Liu Qingge would have taken the healer to be a neutral party, but Shen Qingqiu’s sphere of influence has been growing, evidently. The healer only sighs and Shen Qingqiu uses him as a human shield.

“Liu-shidi, what are you doing?” Shen Qingqiu sounds put-upon as he asks this. It only fuels the fire in his blood. Once again, his view of the other man’s face is obscured, and he can’t read his expressions. 

Why doesn’t he want to fight? Shen Qingqiu always wants to fight! It’s their thing, everyone knows that.

“Fight me!” Liu Qingge bellows.

“What- Why are you so insistent? Why are you doing this?” Is it not obvious? Has he not made it clear?

“Why are you avoiding me?”

A flash of guilt settles over Shen Qingqiu’s features that Liu Qingge could spot from a li away. Those long brows pinch and green eyes turn down and away.

“I’m not… avoiding…” it’s unconvincing and frankly offensive that Shen Qingqiu even tries to deny it at this point. 

“You won’t even tell me why, so I won’t be stopping.” His chest feels tight with all his pent of frustration and other stifling emotions that he's not used to. This is certainly not the first time he and Shen Qingqiu have fallen out, but this is the first time it has hurt like this.

“Shidi, really, why are you making this so difficult?” Shen Qingqiu cries suddenly. Mu Qingfang flinches at the sudden volume. “It’s easier for both of us this way!”

Liu Qingge hears a scandalized gasp from the sidelines. Qi Qingqi and Wei Qingwei have set themselves up on a rock and are munching on some kind of snack. They look very invested. 

Easier? What about this is easier? Liu Qingge hates this, it’s awful. He just wants to have tea and sit in the garden or go on a mission at least. He may love Shen Qingqiu, but he would be satisfied just with this much, as long as they’re side by side again. Those sticky, unpleasant feelings are welling up painfully again in his chest. He drops his sword to his side and turns his gaze to the ground, brows furrowed. Why is this easier? He doesn’t understand.

“… Have tea with me.” He says, after a moment of quiet, because that’s what he wants, that’s all he wants. But when he looks back up, Shen Qingqiu has already gone, and Mu Qingfang looks at him with pity. 

A resounding slap echos from the direction of the audience. Wei Qingwei has clapped a hand over his mouth and looks close to tears. Qi Qingqi has placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

It’s like a punch in the gut. Liu Qingge feels like he’s being left behind and he doesn’t know why. He frowns. This has never happened before, and it’s not a nice feeling. Logically, he should give up at this point, but Liu Qingge is nothing if not persistent. He's fairly certain this is just another one of Shen Qingqiu's strange thing things that he sometimes does without reason or warning before going back to normal. Of all these strange things, this is by far Liu Qingge's least favorite. He begins to march off towards the rainbow bridge, but he’s stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“Do you want some advice from your Shijie?” Qi Qingqi’s face is full of sympathy as she pats his shoulder firmly.

Liu Qingge’s first reaction is to say no and brush he invasive hand away, but he thinks about it and, yes, he actually does want some advice. He’s not making any progress like this.

“What kind of advice?”

“Here, come here. Sweet thing, that was hard, wasn’t it?” Qi Qingqi gently pulls him over to the rock she’s claimed with Wei Qingwei. The behavior is so strange and uncharacteristic that Liu Qingge can feel his hackles rise. Qi Qingqi is known for being a bit of a bully among the peak lords in what many have describes as an ‘annoying older sister’ kind of way. She especially loves to make other people’s business her own business and to share that business with as many people as possible.

The tone she uses is borderline patronizing and he doesn’t like her use of pet names, but, yeah, that was kind of hard. His chest hurts a little.

Besides, he’s running low on options, so he follows her with a healthy amount of caution.

“You’re going about this all wrong, Shidi.” Wei Qingwei nods vigorously to show his support. He mostly just there for moral support, apparently. 

“How so?” Liu Qingge wiggles out of her hold, but she follows to sling an arm over his shoulder. 

“If you want to woo him-”

“Wait, I-”

“Don’t even try to deny it, you two are the most obvious people I’ve ever met.”

Liu Qingge doesn’t know what he was trying to do denying it, actually, something just bubbles up to his throat and filled his cheeks with hot blood. It’s more embarrassing than he thought, to admit that he likes Shen Qingqiu, especially to Qi Qingqi.

“Anyway,” Qi Qingqi retracts her warning glare, “if you want to woo him, you can’t be accosting him in the streets.” 

There aren’t any actual streets on the mountain, more large paths and a strange bridge, but Liu Qingge doesn’t try to point this out, only nods his understanding.

“You have to take a more gentle approach, be romantic.” 

And how exactly is he supposed to do that? He doesn’t think it’s in his nature to be romantic, he barely even knows what that means. He knows swords and cultivation and that’s it.

“Start with gifts,” Qi Qingqi provides happily, “think of what might mean something to him and something that comes from the heart.”

He ponders this suggestion, “I gave him fish, does that count?”

A little squeal is the response he gets. He can’t tell if it’s sarcastic or not and it grates his ears, “Aw, yes, adorable, that’s a great start, good job!” 

Liu Qingge scoffs and crosses his arms, he doesn’t need her approval. The fact that his ears are a little red now is another thing entirely. His chest doesn’t puff up even a little.

“Keep going with things like that, think about who he is and what he likes. Take a gentle approach,” she reiterates with a somewhat threatening look. “Now, do you have access to flowers?”

Oh, does he. She has no idea.

Notes:

Poor LQG has some things to learn about courting. SQQ is so incredibly oblivious that to almost hurts. But our boy will get there eventually, poor thing has a hard time believing he can be loved:(

One more after this:)

As always, kudos and comments are so appreciated! Please give me any and all feedback you have, I love to hear it!

Chapter 13

Notes:

This one's a little bit longer for you guys, hope you enjoy!

Edit Jan 20,2024: Hello! I can't believe it's been over a year since I started and ended this fic! All of you guys are the sweetest readers ever I swear<3 I never expected to get such kind, thoughtful, enthusiastic comments on this little project of mine and let me tell you, you guys know how to make an author feel good! (I'm giggling and kicking my feet when I read your feedback, seriously)

I want you guys to know that I still read every single comment I get on this story, and I'm going to work on replying more, even though it's not my strong suit! (Also, I can't believe I'm getting so many people re-reading this fic, I'm unbelievably touched<333)

Love you guys<3 and thanks for reading!

Liu Qingge has been acting strange. Shen Qingqiu has never seen the likes of it. What happened to the stoic manly man of Bai Zhan Peak?? What happened to Liu Qingge, the lone wolf? He’s really not helping Shen Qingqiu bury his feelings in a deep dark hole.

Even worse, Liu Qingge’s persistence has managed to make him fall even harder! Not only is he strong and capable, but sweet and thoughtful as well? Shen Qingqiu is approaching a point of no return with this man. He considers taking three year in the caves again to meditate his feelings away, but he just did that not too long ago.

Every now and then for the past couple days, he’s been finding various flowers dropped on his doorstep one at a time. It’s a totally new approach and it’s so sweet that Shen Qingqiu has to take a minute to calm himself down, or he might fly to Bai Zhan right then and ruin his self restraint.

Desperately, Shen Qingqiu tries to resist being wooed by Liu Qingge’s ceaseless effort to contact him, but every time the man shows up demanding a fight, he looses all of his brain cells. This must be what the wives felt like when they fell prey to Bingge's fancy. Except Liu Qingge is straight and Shen Qingqiu is not his spouse.

“Are you sure he’s straight?” Airplane sounds dubious as he fiddles with his melon seeds, trying to line them up into a perfect circle on Shen Qingqiu’s nice table.

“Yes, of course I am,” Shen Qingqiu sighs for the nth time, “you wrote him that way!”

“I dunno, bro, I barely wrote him at all before killing him off,” Shang Qinghua’s words are slowed by his intense concentration.

“I’m still mad at you for that, you hack author.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Regardless, a lot of things have changed from the original plot line anyway.” That’s true. The demon attack on Cang Qiong, for example, as well as Binghe’s abuse situation.

Not this, though, surely.

“Bro,” Airplane pauses in his arranging to give him a flat look, “he gives you flowers.” Shen Qingqiu blushes at the reminder and casts a glance to the very full vase of multicolored blooms that sits on his windowsill. “That doesn’t exactly scream platonic.”

It really doesn’t, but Shen Qingqiu doesn’t think he could survive getting hopeful only to be let down. Honestly, Liu Qingge’s behavior is close to driving him insane with his attentiveness; Shen Qingqiu feels wanted in a way he hasn’t before, like his friendship is truly valued. Of course, Shang Qinghua values his friendship, but it’s different. 

Shen Qingqiu isn’t planning on abandoning Liu Qingge for good! He just wants to get to a point where he can speak coherent sentences and not blush furiously when he’s around. It's incredibly demeaning.

“Ah, bro!” Shen Qingqiu buries his head in his hands, “Don’t go giving me hope.”

The sound of a melon seed tap tap tapping on the dark wood continues for a short while. “To be honest, bro,” Airplane sounds tentative when he speaks, using his serious voice, “I… don’t think it’s super fair to Liu-shidi to do this. He thinks he’s been abandoned for no reason, and he cares about you.”

Denial comes immediately to the front of Shen Qingqiu’s mouth, but he holds it back. It’s clear at this point that Liu Qingge does care about him. The thought erupts with restless little butterflies in his stomach, if he was anyone else, he might be in danger of sighing dreamily. But Airplane is right, it’s not fair to avoid his friend like this, he’d only been thinking of himself without considering it might be hurtful on the other side.

Honestly, he misses Liu Qingge, even though he sees him somewhat frequently. He misses their garden and tea time and sparring. He misses Liu Qingge’s steady presence, warm and strong as the sun above them, his calming company soothing and secure at his side and… He really is down bad. It kind of hurts his chest to think he might have hurt him.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he sighs, turning his head to look at the flowers again. There are pink dragon blooms and vibrant blue tears of heaven, crisp yellow morning miracles and pale purple qi bells. Some of them he recognizes from their shared garden, but most he thinks must be from down the mountain, wild flowers that roam the hills there. The image of the War God of Bai Zhan going flower picking tickles him a little, and he huffs a laugh.

Airplane has long since gone back to his melon seed design, and it actually looks quite intricate, Shen Qingqiu is impressed. “You think too much, bro,” says An Ding’s peak lord, “you don’t want to lose him, do you?”

Shen Qingqiu hums a sad no.

“Then don’t run away.”

Sometimes, just sometimes, Airplane manages to have some actually good advice. Very rarely, in between papapa plots and shitty writing.

Shen Qingqiu gathers his courage in the afternoon after his friend has left. Binghe looks at him strangely as he tries to pump himself up by quietly bouncing on the balls of his feet in the doorway, a box of tea in hand. He will be in then out, no funny business and definitely no run-ins with people he knows. Baby steps.

The flight to Bai Zhan consists of internal pep-talks and self encouragement no to lose his nerve or his brain cells. Bai Zhan is as active as ever, swarmed with dedicated disciples on the dusty training fields. He slips in through the entrance silently, and is immediately spotted by a gaggle of training disciples. Their jaws drop when they see him, halting in their sword forms. Just as they are about to explode with movement and sound, Shen Qingqiu holds a finger to his lips pleadingly.

The disciples seem to understand and begin to buzz with excitement. They go back to training, but continue to watch him from the corners of their eyes.

From what he’s heard, Liu Qingge should be out right now, down the mountain for some self inflicted mission, as he is wont to do. Perfect timing. Shen Qingqiu sweeps up to the door and gingerly places a small wooden box up against it.

This is the thing that he’s felt worst about, strangely. They haven’t had Sleepy-time Tea in what feels like forever, and the loss has affected him more than he expected. He still sleeps, of course, but there have been many nights when he wished to share his nightly tea with his friend in the quiet of their garden.

He also somewhat feels like he’s abandoned someone he promised to help, if only to himself. Liu Qingge’s sleep schedule was so bad it almost gave Shen Qingqiu heart failure. After weeks of Sleepy-time Tea, it got much better (or at least, he thinks it did), but there’s no telling what it looks like now.

So, Shen Qingqiu has brought Liu Qingge a box of chamomile in a small, intricately carved box of dark wood, left on the doorstep in a similar fashion to the flowers left on his. He ponders leaving something else in addition, a flower, perhaps. 

Yeah, that sounds good. Shen Qingqiu leaves quickly to Qing Jing and returns before an incense burner’s time. He places a snowy white thousand tears flower delicately on top of the dark box. He nods once in satisfaction and whisks away into the afternoon sky after shooing away the very excited, very nosy Bai Zhan kids.

Ah! He’s not cut out for this! This is too hard on his poor heart, he feels so nervous, his face feels hot. Shen Qingqiu decides to stop by An Ding on the way back for some moral support and endless melon seeds. He has to be back to Qing Jing in time for lessons though, so, quick pep talk and a handful of melon seeds is more accurate.

He can’t say that he’ll manage to be completely normal, or that he’ll be able to bear the weight of constantly being around the person he likes, but he’ll try to ease himself into it. His heart can take a little battering, he thinks, if it means staying by that person’s side.

 

.

 

The sky is beginning to shimmer with the last of afternoon’s strong sunlight when Liu Qingge returns. He’s been up and down the mountain all day, searching for just the right flowers, at the adamant suggestion of Qi Qingqi. He searched long and hard for the perfect selection, unwilling to gift Shen Qingqiu anything but the best, and found a large collection of interesting looking flowers that might intrigue him. 

He doesn’t know what any of them are, but he found a particularly intriguing one right on the cusp of tree line. It’s a volcanic looking thing as big as his fist and vibrant red with five petals and long, thin black things coming out of the middle. The stems are also black as well as the roots. Liu Qingge decided to keep them on because they look awesome. It’s cool, he likes it.

He wonders if it would grow in his garden.

He hasn’t been able to carry out Qi Qingqi’s plan yet, so he’s still apprehensive as to how Shen Qingqiu will react to this new approach.

It seems like he’s missed dinner, as the disciples are going through their meditations already, likely in preparation for bed, the lot of them. Liu Qingge shakes his head, his brats really took that and ran with it. 

Several of them look up when he lands on Cheng Luan, looking excited and conspiratorial. Liu Qingge chooses to ignore the looks they give him when they spot the flowers he carries (he was afraid they might be damaged in a qiankun pouch), proud and a little smug. They glance back and forth between Liu Qingge and his house until he is immensely suspicious of what he’ll find there. 

Whatever he expected it to be, it wasn’t this. At his door is a box of what can only be tea. Can only be chamomile; he can smell it already.

Liu Qingge nearly drops the flowers. Slowly, he stoops to pick the box up, careful of the sparkling white flower on top of it. Oh, his heart it too big for his chest, beating as loud as the morning drums. He runs his thumb over the detailing on the side of the box, breathless for a long moment, eyes wide and heart hopeful.

But something holds him back from rushing out immediately. Maybe it’s his heart, open and bleeding and prone to pain. This is like giving Shen Qingqiu a sword and stretching out his neck, trusting not to be cut.

Well… since when has Liu Qingge been anything but reckless? 

Carefully, Liu Qingge takes the box and flower inside. The box he puts in the tea cupboard, and the flower he sets on the windowsill. He flies out with a determined set to his jaw and his own flowers in hand. 

The sky shines with clouds lined in gold, the setting sun casts long shadows and washes Qing Jing in vibrant color. Liu Qingge approaches a small grassy clearing just outside the library, where Shen Qingqiu is teaching poetry. He plants himself underneath a nearby tree and settles down to watch, placing the flowers down beside him. The children who notice him shoot him narrow looks that border on dirty. They look him up and down suspiciously, like they’re appraising him for something, before finally turning back to their lesson. 

Shen Qingqiu sits before a stack of papers that Liu Qingge understands to be poems written by the disciples. A familiar blue ribbon ties his hair back into his usual half-up. Liu Qingge’s heart skips madly at the sight of it. Shen Qingqiu reads each poem with a thoughtful expression, humming and nodding as he goes along. A small crowd of green clad disciples have gathered around his feet, watching with hopeful expressions and shining eyes like a litter of puppies.

With a final stroke of his brush, Shen Qingqiu sets down the paper he’s holding. “Beautifully done, Xiao Yu,” he says with a hum. The boy in question looks like his eyes might fall out from the praise. Serenely, Shen Qingqiu places a soft hand on the boy’s head. “as usual, you have a knack for poetry.”

Now Liu Qingge thinks this kid might actually spontaneously combust in his elation. Shameless, he thinks. This kind of softness would never fly on Bai Zhan.

Suddenly the crowd at Shen Qingqiu’s feet has become denser, as his students kneel not so patiently for his verdict on their work. Liu Qingge is strangely reminded of the sunflowers that are now thriving in his back yard, the way the disciples’ heads seem to gravitate subtly towards Shen Qingqiu’s gentle hands, hoping for pats.

Liu Qingge has to clear his throat to dislodge the amused huff that builds in his throat.

They continue like that for a long while until the sky yawns with purples, bathing the peak in a soft blanket of chill. Shen Qingqiu reads the poems given to him and responds with either praise or constructive suggestions for improvement. Without fail, he rewards each student with a pat on the head and a small, but fond, smile.

It looks more to Liu Qingge like the children are all but shoving their heads into their teacher’s unsuspecting hand, but nonetheless, they glow impossibly brighter each time.

Say what you will about Shen Qingqiu’s strangeness and unfortunate tendency to coddle his students, the children absolutely adore him.

“Shizun, Shizun!” One of his disciples pipes up from across the room. “Can’t you read us some poems?” The suggestion is met with enthusiasm from his fellow students. Encouraged, the boy continues. “It’s difficult to understand what you want us to capture.” Nods and hums of agreement rung out around him.

“Read you poems?” Shen Qingqiu quirks an eyebrow, hiding an amused smirk behind his fan. “Did this master not read poems earlier this week?”

His reply is met with a series of protesting groans. The same boy speaks up again. “But Shizun, that was a whole other topic!”

“That’s right!”

“Yeah, this is so different.”

“Please? It would really help!”

These little Qing Jing disciples really have been spoiled beyond repair. Liu Qingge crosses his arms as he watches them put their all into begging their teacher to read to them.

Shen Qingqiu laughs. It’s a little, bubbling thing that sends Liu Qingge’s heart stumbling. “Alright, alright,” he makes a downward gesture with both hands, one grasping his fan, the other open and palm down, “But you all must listen carefully and ruminate on your own work.” 

Shen Qingqiu pulls a book from his sleeve and clears his throat before he begins, although he. Doesn’t so much look at the pages as recite from memory. The disciples are silent as they listen.

Liu Qingge doesn’t pay too much attention to the poems themselves, he’s never been an avid lover of such arts, but Shen Qingqiu’s voice is smooth and melodic, rising and falling with flow of the poems in a practiced, reverent recital. 

Before long, Liu Qingge finds himself drifting into a pleasant lull, watching as Shen Qingqiu’s lips form each delicate syllable with care, how his brows shift with each shift in tone into tiny, almost-expressions. 

Liu Qingge holds no love for poetry, but he likes Shen Qingqiu’s voice, he decides. Likes the way it ebbs and flows. Likes the way the sound of it soaks warmly into his skin and echos in his chest. 

Liu Qingge doesn’t like poetry, but he does like Shen Qingqiu.

Finally, when the lesson is over and the disciples scurry away, shooting him semi-threatening looks as they go, Liu Qingge makes his presence known.

It looks like he’d already been discovered, though, because Shen Qingqiu turns to face him with a soft smile, hands folded in front of him around his fan. Immediately, Liu Qingge feels warmer. In fact, so warm that his ears are beginning to burn with a blush. He shifts from foot to foot before flatly shoving out his hand, flowers clutched in a tight fist.

Surprise passes over Shen Qingqiu’s face at the bundle of flowers, then his face softens and blushes a pretty pink as he takes them. “You didn’t have to,” he says, a touch of something somber in his tone, “…thank you.” 

Something has changed from the scholar’s behavior in the past few weeks. Liu Qingge recognizes it as a willingness to listen. 

“Have tea with me,” says Liu Qingge, a touch of something desperate. Ah, his heart feels like it’s beating too loudly.

“…Why?” Shen Qingqiu strokes a delicate petal with one finger. He sounds hesitant, like he’s scared to ask.

It takes a little control for Liu Qingge not to bristle. “Why not?” He asks, “Aren’t we friends?”

Guilt settles so strongly over Shen Qingqiu’s features the Liu Qingge wants to take it back immediately. Shen Qingqiu pulls his lip inward to worry at it, but catches himself before he does. “Shidi…” he finally manages, “why do this?”

“Because you are avoiding me.” His words are honest and blunt, and just a little bitter.

Shen Qingqiu flounders for a minute, “What? I never- when did I ever do that?” His voice is raised several octaves, The effort at denial is weak at best, Shen Qingqiu looks suddenly very tired.

“No?” Liu Qingge raises an eyebrow, “Then come.”

With a great sigh and some grumbling, Shen Qingqiu does come, but not before stopping by the bamboo cottage to put the flowers in a vase

They land on Bai Zhan bathed in deeper purples now, sun sunken completely beneath the peaks. 

“Shidi, it’s really getting late now…” Shen Qingqiu casts a sideways glance at Liu Qingge as he shuffles along to keep up with his long strides. 

“Mn,” Liu Qingge agrees, “good time for tea.”

A sigh breaks the atmosphere and Shen Qingqiu stops walking. Liu Qingge makes it a couple more steps before he stops too, turning to face his friend. Shen Qingqiu looks at him with such an exhausted expression, like it hurts for him to even be here. 

“Really, Shidi,” Shen Qingqiu’s voice is heavy in a way fills Liu Qingge with nervous energy, “why are you doing this?”

“Why do you keep running away?”

The tiredness in Shen Qingqiu snaps suddenly to give way to frustration. His face contorts into desperation and he raises his voice a fraction, “Why do you keep chasing me?” He glares, but it lacks its usual bite and only looks pained instead, “And giving me all these things?” Shen Qingqiu snaps open his fan and stations it solidly in front of his face as he drops his voice low, “It’s easier for both of us if I stay away, Shidi, I don’t know why you’re making this so difficult.”

There he goes, saying that nonsense again. Pent up frustration erupts from Liu Qingge in response to the outburst. In an instant, Liu Qingge has snatched Shen Qingqiu’s thin wrist firmly and pulled, “Don’t cover your face,” he growls, feeling hurt and betrayed.

He regrets the action immediately.

Don’t hide from me, he means, you can trust me, tell me what’s wrong. 

Frustration drains from Shen Qingqiu’s face, replaced by an icy mask and a deadly glare, “Let go,” Shen Qingqiu’s voice drips with poison. His walls are back up, and Liu Qingge feels sick to his stomach.

He’s not going about this the right way, he knows that but still, fear and desperation swirl together to form something ugly, seizing his chest and muddling his thoughts, “Please,” he begs, “tell me what’s wrong.”

Those green eyes suddenly look so wide and vulnerable and desperate as Shen Qingqiu yanks harder on his wrist. “Why are you so obstinate?!”

Because I like you, he wants to say, because I don’t want to lose you. But no matter how hard he tries, the words won’t come out, so instead he says-

“Let’s fight.”

Shen Qingqiu’s cold face crumbles defeatedly with a great sigh as Liu Qingge releases his wrist, “…Alright,” he says, and calls Xiu Ya to his hand.

It’s been a while since they’ve sparred, but it takes no time at all for them to fall into a familiar rhythm. Cheng Luan’s heavy strokes are met with a deafening clang as Xiu Ya glints in the night. Their steps are like a dance, swirling and dodging in their flowing robes, it creates an almost pleasant atmosphere. 

The spar takes them all across the training grounds, even through the trees that outline the dirt arena. The moon is nearly full, tonight, and bright enough that the unlit brasiers aren’t a problem. Shen Qingqiu has never managed to best him before, but a fight between two masters is always a thing of beauty, especially when the masters in question have fought so many times before. Their offensive and defensive maneuvers are seamless, a pattern that feels as old as time.

Liu Qingge is hopelessly fond of Shen Qingqiu, and he can’t help but admire the way those dark locks flow through the air, how pale colored robes flutter gracefully in the moonlight. His fierce expression is undercut by a mournful turn of his lips and Liu Qingge thinks none of Shen Qingqiu’s many paintings compare to the man himself. Shen Qingqiu is otherworldly in his elegance, even in such a situation.

Shen Qingqiu breaks the silence of their fight as he blocks a heavy blow, “Why a spar? Why are you being so persistent?”

Liu Qingge parries a low swipe to the legs, but he can’t help but notice that Shen Qingqiu isn’t doing much attacking. He thinks of how can reply. No matter what, he knows he won’t lie, but the truth is heavy and vulnerable, too close to his heart to expose so readily. 

In the end, the word come tumbling out of his mouth without his permission, painfully raw and terrifyingly true. 

“You keep running,” He says, feeling a lump form in his throat, “I don’t want to lose you.” 

Just like that, Shen Qingqiu is stumbling, loosing his footing and falling, falling. Liu Qingge pulls his blow just in time, but it’s not enough to stop his momentum entirely. The two of them tumble across the grass, finally coming to a stop near the base of a large tree. Shen Qingqiu sits astride Liu Qingge, who lays on the ground without moving. Shen Qingqiu’s hands are braced on Liu Qingge’s abdomen to keep him upright, and it takes strength for him not to place his hands on the other’s waist to steady him.

“You can’t just say things like that, Shidi,” the words are barely a whisper, nearly inaudible over the rustle of the trees. Shen Qingqiu breathes shuddering breaths. He does not rise from his position. His hair is coming loose, silken locks draped over one shoulder, blue ribbon catching the moonlight. His robes are askew, the pale fabric dirtied, and in the dim light, Liu Qingge can see thee trees and their leaves dancing above him in the wind. Shen Qingqiu’s lower lip trembles ever so slightly as he presses his mouth into a firm line, brows pinched, like he’s holding something back. Like it hurts him to do so. 

“Why?” Liu Qingge feels almost crazy with the need to know. Just this and he can let go, even if it’s painful. His heart thunders, and Shen Qingqiu must be able to feel it. “Please, tell me.”

That lip’s quivers increase and Shen Qingqiu lets out a frustrated sound, “Because if you do I-” he exhales in a desperate huff, “Because, when you say things like that, it makes it harder for me to stay away.” He bows his head, breaking eye contact for just a moment before looking back up again, “So, please…”

Liu Qingge watches carefully as Shen Qingqiu battles inside his mind with something he doesn’t understand. He knows in his soul that the moment is now, or he’ll loose his chance forever so-

“Shen Qingqiu,” he says, “I like you.”

Shen Qingqiu jerks back, eyes going wide, sitting up to straddle Liu Qingge. Liu Qingge has never been so nervous, so scared in his life. His heart feels as though it has frozen as he sees the words process in Shen Qingqiu’s mind, as the frustration and sadness give way to shock, wide eyes and open mouthed. Shen Qingqiu’s hands twitch as Liu Qingge pushes himself up on one elbow. The blue ribbon sways in the wind, and Liu Qingge takes it gently between his fingers. Shen Qingqiu’s expression morphs into suspicion, then a deadly glare. 

“Don’t joke around, Liu Qingge.” Shen Qingqiu spits his name, dark and venomous, a dangerous wetness in his eyes. “Not about this.”

Liu Qingge shakes his head, eyes earnest. “I don’t know how to joke.”

For several long moment, Shen Qingqiu searches Liu Qingge’s eyes for some lie or misunderstanding. Each second that passes when he doesn’t find them, that wall begins to fall further away until finally there is nothing left but him. The wetness in his eyes grows until finally it spills over and he lets out a shaky breath. Tiny drops like crystals roll down Shen Qingqiu’s graceful cheek, drip from his lowered chin.

“I…” Shen Qingqiu glares and sniffles like his own tears have offended him, “Me too.” He says it quickly as he looks away, blushing madly. But it’s enough for Liu Qingge, and cautious hope rages through his every vein.  

Nearly unable to believe what he’s hearing, Liu Qingge tries to confirm. “You what?”

Shen Qingqiu huffs and dashes away the evidence of his very brief cry before he starts to squirm, looking embarrassed. “I like you.” He declares, straightforward and almost of the tone of an accusation.

Is he dreaming? Does he dare believe it? Liu Qingge is caught in a breathless daze tossing these questions around, but Shen Qingqiu looks at him with earnest eyes, fingers clenched in Liu Qingge’s robe, and he think’s that if this is a dream, it is one that he likes. 

Liu Qingge is no good with words, he can only release the pressure in his chest with a heavy huff of relief and a smile he couldn’t fight if he wanted to. He smiles bigger than he thinks he ever has until his cheeks hurt and he releases the ribbon between his fingers to place a hand on Shen Qingqiu’s waist tentatively. He closes his eyes and bows his head as Shen Qingqiu leans forward until their foreheads touch. 

This simple contact is enough for Liu Qingge to feel his eyes begin to burn, for his chest strain from the pressure of his beating heart. When Shen Qingqiu throws his arms around his shoulders and squeezes, Liu Qingge thinks this must be what it feels like to ascend

He can see the turmoil that churns behind Shen Qingqiu’s eyes as they watch each other tentatively. Then Shen Qingqiu is placing hands on his cheeks and leaning in swiftly to press their lips together. The kiss is brief and chaste, barely more than a peck, but it’s sweet. It’s enough to make his heart leap around in his chest, giddy with fondness and excitement. 

When it’s over, Shen Qingqiu pulls away and locks their eyes, face completely red and pinched, unsure. Liu Qingge surges up, giving Shen Qingqiu a matching kiss in response, nervous and small, but elated. He feels Shen Qingqiu smile big into his shoulder when it’s over.

But alas, Shen Qingqiu’s thin face can only stretch so far, and soon he is standing again, clearing his throat as he gazes at the moon, face aflame.

Their commotion has been loud enough to draw some eavesdroppers who pop in right at the end. Upon being discovered, the disciples run quickly away and narrowly avoid a gruesome fate at the hands of one mortified Shen Qingqiu.

Liu Qingge is suddenly struck with the weight of his exhaustion. His feet don’t quite drag, but they feel heavy, and the pleasant warmth of Shen Qingqiu at his side pulls him into a sweet lull of sleepiness. 

Although he’s tried, he has not been able to sleep these past weeks. Even when he tries to brew the tea himself, it either tastes too bitter or far too sweet, and ends up keeping him awake. His only other alternative has been to meditate in the garden. 

They walk slowly, shoulder to shoulder across Bai Zhan in the crisp night air. A comfortable energy pulled taught between them.

“Thank you for the flowers,” Shen Qingqiu says after a while. It’s too dark to see his face under the trees.

“You already said that.” 

“Not for the ones you just gave me,” Shen Qingqiu says, “the other ones.”

… “What other ones?” Has Shen Qingqiu been receiving flowers he didn’t know about?

Shen Qingqiu cocks his head in confusion, Liu Qingge takes a moment to appreciate how cute it is, “The ones that have been appearing on my doorstep, are they not from you?”

No, they’re not. Liu Qingge racks his brain for anyone else that might have their sights on Shen Qingqiu.  

“No.”

“Then who?”

Suddenly it hits him. Those brats, of course it would be them. Liu Qingge sighs heavily, “My disciples,” he says, “they’ve been sneaking around lately. Through the garden and across the bridge. I thought it was strange.”

Apparently, Shen Qingqiu finds this to be incredibly endearing, if highly embarrassing. Shen Qingqiu calls his brats “adorable” and “more romantic than Liu-shidi.” They will be running laps in the morning.

They return to Liu Qingge’s house, where Shen Qingqiu immediately puts on a pot of tea as he cools himself down. Liu Qingge has a hard time not following his every step like a lost puppy. Shen Qingqiu pats his head for his patience and places the tea in front of them. 

Liu Qingge gently takes the hand from his head moves it to his heart. He pulls Shen Qingqiu in to place a kiss on his lips and then, because he likes it, he does it again, then again. They are still short, unskillful things, the smallest brush of skin, but soon, Shen Qingqiu is smiling against his lips and huffing in laughter. Again, Shen Qingqiu wraps his arms around Liu Qingge’s shoulders and holds him close. Liu Qingge wraps his own arms tightly around Shen Qingqiu’s waist, perhaps tighter than need be, but Shen Qingqiu melts into it, and they stay like that until the tea goes cold.

This really is very comfortable, Liu Qingge thinks. His heart feels full as he buries his face into the junction of Shen Qingqiu’s neck and shoulder. He is in danger of falling asleep like this, in the warmth of Shen Qingqiu’s affection and embrace, nimble fingers carding through his hair. 

It’s late now, far past Shen Qingqiu’s bed time, and he will have to go back to his own peak at some point. But for now, Liu Qingge can imagine that they will stay like this all night, lulled to sleep by the sound of each other’s breaths and the gentle scent of chamomile.

Notes:

Ahh, I can't believe it's done! I'm gonna miss it, but I hope you guys liked it:)

I'd love to hear any and all feedback you have, I absolutely love reading your comments! You guys are a dream, thanks so much for reading!

Edit Jan 20, 2024: Hi guys! I love these two so much and am thinking about writing a little sequel:) I haven't been able to come up with something though so if any of you have ideas or suggestions, please drop them below!