Chapter Text
Mu Qingfang is having tea with Shang Qinghua at the bamboo house on Qing Jing peak, when Shen Qingqiu enters in a flurry of robes and hair. Shen Qingqiu slams the door behind him, startling both men kneeling at the table.
“A-Jiu?” Mu Qingfang asks cautiously. “What’s wrong?”
Shen Qingqiu looks furious and Shang Qinghua flinches.
“A-Jiu.” Mu Qingfang says in a different tone of voice, and when dark green eyes meet his own, Mu Qingfang deliberately cuts his eyes in Shang Qinghua’s direction.
Shen Qingqiu turns his head, frowning at Shang Qinghua. He presses his lips together, and he releases a heavy breath. “Apologies,” he says, in a much lower voice than Mu Qingang was expecting.
“I can leave,” Shang Qinghua offers, rising halfway from his cushion.
Pinning him with his gaze, Shen Qingqiu says only, “Sit. I will prepare more tea.”
This, Mu Qingfang knows, is an exercise in relaxation for Shen Qingqiu. The ritual calms him, grounds him, when he gets angry like this. If they were alone, Mu Qingfang would already have embraced him, petting over his hair and gently fussing.
Across the table, Shang Qinghua’s shoulders slowly relax from where he’d been holding them tight, nearly up to his ears. It’s been nine months since the Immortal Alliance Conference, and Shang Qinghua still has terrible PTSD from it.
Even getting the man to stay in one place long enough to get an exam is difficult, let alone tea.
Mu Qingfang’s been quite worried about him for months now, something that Shen Qingqiu is well aware of. He’s glad that A-Jiu told Airplane to stay. What Shang Qinghua needs is the least amount of stress that he can manage. That, and plain old friendly company.
These days, angry people around him are enough to send Shang Qinghua badly flinching and quickly escaping.
Right now, for example, Shang Qinghua’s eyes are rimmed with dark circles and his pale face is drawn. Mu Qingfang knows that Mu Qing burned the System out of the other man’s head, and so he would have expected Shang Qinghua to be less stressed out, not more so!
Shen Qingqiu brings the tea service back to the table, and sets it down carefully. He’s clearly put aside whatever made him so angry. Shang Qinghua keeps giving Shen Qingqiu cautious glances, though, and it….it hurts to see.
Mu Qingfang wants to help his friend feel better, wants to help him period, but if Shang Qinghua doesn’t want help, he’s not sure what he can do.
Elegantly, Shen Qingqiu pours fresh tea for them. From the scent, he’s brewed calming tea, a decision that Mu Qingfang approves of. He gives Shen Qingqiu a warm glance, and the other man’s lips curve up.
“Thank you, A-Jiu,” Mu Qingfang says, meaning every word. “Drink up, Qinghua,” he encourages.
From the wry look that Shang Qinghua gives him, he’s well aware of what kind of tea this is. He drinks it obediently though, and Mu Qingfang feels a little relieved.
After everyone’s had a full cup of tea, Shen Qingqiu refills all the cups again. He wraps his hands around his jade cup and says, “I am going to kill that little brat.”
Mu Qingfang meets Shang Qinghua’s eyes. He’s pretty sure they both have the same amused expression right now. Clearing his throat, Mu Qingfang says, “Is it safe to assume, you’re talking about Binghe?”
Scowling, Shen Qingqiu says snidely, “Naturally. That idiotic little beast has been traveling with Liu Shidi, as you both know.”
Grimacing, Mu Qingfang thinks Oh, I KNOW. Shang Qinghua covers his mouth to hide his smile.
“This morning, he sent me a message stating that he was going to ‘explore his options’ in the Demon realm.” Shen Qingqiu looks at Mu Qingfang, and the annoyance is clear on his face. “Explore his OPTIONS?” He huffs and Mu Qingfang nudges a finger at Shen Qingqiu’s teacup, encouraging him to take a nice long pull of the calming tea. “What does that even mean?”
“I blame this on Liu Shidi,” Shen Qingqiu continues. “Luo Binghe is a Qing Jing peak disciple-”
Here we go, Mu Qingfang thinks. This is a lecture he’s heard plenty of times since the Conference. Across the table, Shang Qinghua’s eyes fill with amusement.
“-And as such, I expect him to use his head, not his oversized muscles like that Bai Zhan brute-”
Across the table, Shang Qinghua smirks, and it’s so reminiscent of the mischievous looks he used to give Mu Qingfang, that Mu Qingfang can’t help feeling a bit optimistic.
“-I didn’t raise that boy to try and take over an entire realm, without even asking for some advice-” Shen Qingqiu continues, and Mu Qingfang wonders if A-Jiu is simply pissed that he hadn’t been consulted or asked for his strategic opinion first. “-And Liu Shidi is going to help him? We’ll be lucky if those idiots don’t start a war!”
“Well, maybe we should give him the benefit of the doubt,” Mu Qingfang offers, and receives a dark look from Shen Qingqiu. Mu Qingfang holds his hands up. “Just a thought. What do I know? I’m just a doctor.”
Shang Qinghua snorts and rolls his eyes.
Shen Qingqiu narrows his own eyes at Shang Qinghua. “Does Shang Shidi have an opinion?”
Surprisingly, Shang Qinghua sits up straight. “If Luo Binghe wants to conquer the Demon realm, I say, let him. I would also be happy to help out with some friendly advice.”
Yikes, Mu Qingfang thinks. “So you’re not-”
“No.” Shang Qinghua says flatly, meeting his eyes. They have an unspoken conversation:
Mu Qingfang: You’re not hung up on the ice demon anymore?
Shang Qinghua: Since he tried to murder me? Absolutely NOT.
“Stop that,” Shen Qingqiu snaps at both of them. “Say what you mean to say, Shang Shidi.”
“It’s only that if Binghe wants to start somewhere, I’d suggest he start in the Northern Desert, and kick Mobei Jun’s ass.”
Shen Qingqiu blinks. “That’s the ice demon that nearly killed four peak lords, correct? And you want my disciple to start with him?” Shen Qingqiu’s voice gets louder as he gathers steam.
Mu Qingfang muses that it’s always kind of adorable that Shen Qingqiu is equal parts exasperated by and fondly protective of Luo Binghe. Not that he’d admit the second part.
Instead of flinching at the raised voice, Shang Qinghua stiffens his back and scowls, making unfamiliar lines on his face. “Yeah. Luo Binghe is a heavenly demon. Of course he can beat my…Mobei Jun.”
Shang Qinghua escapes shortly after that, and Mu Qingfang doesn’t bother trying to keep his slippery friend from leaving. Once he’s gone, Mu Qingfang is free to fuss over Shen Qingqiu, and so he plunks himself right down in his lap, shoving the table back a little to make room.
Shen Qingqiu brightens. “A-Yuan.” He lays his hand over Mu Qingfang’s cheek. Shen Qingqiu sighs, dipping his head forward to rest on Mu Qingfang’s shoulder. “Aside from you, I’m surrounded by idiots.”
*
Mu Qingfang still holds clinics, of course, though he doesn’t go to every one like he used to. Now, it’s more like once a week. Wu Yanshin has been especially watchful after his recovery. Mu Qing had healed all of his injuries from the conference. What was left was meridians that were strained and scorched, just this side of cracking completely.
In the early days, after he’d awoken, Airplane had blithely informed him, “Bro, just let Shen Qingqiu dick you down. You know papapa cures most everything, here.”
Once Mu Qingfang had given him several good whaps with one of A-Jiu’s fans, he’d booted his friend, and seduced his lover at first opportunity. Shen Qingqiu had actually needed convincing! A-Jiu had some lingering trauma of his own, having watched Mu Qingfang in a coma for months.
Anyway! The local author-god was right, about the papapa at least, and these days Mu Qingfang feels as normal as he ever did.
Today’s clinic is in one of the closer towns in the valley, and the group from Qian Cao flies down a couple of days after Airplane’s aborted visit.
Cheng Delun is with them, now a junior disciple, and naturally Xie Yanmei and a few other senior disciples. By rights, Wu Yanshin and Xie Yanmei both are experienced enough to be solo healers, but neither one of them wanted to, ahem, ‘Give Shizun enough rope to hang himself.’
Bullied! These women bully him relentlessly!
Once they arrive at the assigned town, Mu Qingfang helps the disciples set up the tent and the tables, and then settles in to supervise Cheng Delun start seeing patients.
The boy correctly diagnoses the first patient, a young woman with silver scaly patches on the inside of her arms and back of her knees, and prescribes the correct treatment for her eczema: crushed peppermint leaves and a clay poultice.
The next patient is an older woman with abdominal bloating. Mu Qingfang hides his smile, watching the young man frown and ask about a hundred questions. Cheng Delun is stumped though, and Mu Qingfang smoothly steps in to inform her that she’s with child.
The woman’s eyes widen with shock. “At my age?!”
And so Mu Qingfang has to explain that if she was still getting her monthly blood flow, even irregularly, she could still become pregnant. Fortunately, this seems to be a joyous event for the woman, and she is all happy tears and smiles. Mu Qingfang breathes a sigh of relief, honestly.
That could have easily gone the other way.
Cheng Delun treats some street kids who really just seem to be hungry. These are two young brothers. One is ten and the other seven or so. They were raised by a father alone after the mother passed after birthing the younger child. Unfortunately, their father had a wasting disease, and was unable to provide for them.
They overheard him planning to sell them both, and they ran away before the slavers could come to collect them. Normally, this is a story that naturally would have a tragic end.
However, Cheng Delun is good with children, and he has a gentle heart. He hasn’t forgotten what it was like living on the streets. He turns large eyes on Mu Qingfang, and Mu Qingfang exchanges an amused glance with Xie Yanmei.
Yanmei clears her throat and arranges for the boys to return to Qian Cao with them. Mu Qingfang refuses to feel guilty about it! There’s always stuff that needs doing on his peak, from grinding herbs, to laundry, to delivering stuff everywhere across the twelve peaks, to cooking and cleaning.
Several of his strays from years back are adults now, and one of them even married an An Ding disciple! Shang Qinghua had laughed and provided them with a nice leisure house and a large stipend.
Mu Qingfang does love a good underdog story, especially one with a happy ending. He pats Cheng Delun on the head and welcomes his new children.
While he flying back to Qian Cao, he receives a qi message from Shen Qingqiu that says simply, I’m having dinner with Qi-ge tonight.
Rolling his eyes, Mu Qingfang lets the message dissipate. Personally, he likes Yue Qingyuan okay, but not anything like what Shen Qingqiu feels for the man. Which is fine! But Mu Qingfang has yelled at the sect leader too many times to even begin attempting to feel comfortable just hanging out with him. And he’s still kind of mad that Yue Shixiong’s demand for the immediate restoration of the Rainbow bridges nearly killed Shang Qinghua.
Aside from that, he kind of feels like Shen Qingqiu needs that one on one time with his older brother. Anyway, Mu Qingfang tolerates Yue Qingyuan’s presence in his personal life like Shen Qingqiu tolerates Shang Qinghua’s presence.
It’s fine! Relationships require compromise, right?
The entire group lands on Qian Cao and Xie Yanmei takes the two new boys to meet Wu Yanshin. By this time, Yanshin is an expert at getting all the strays sorted. Mu Qingfang rounds quickly on the current patients admitted to the Healing Pavilion.
It’s (he hesitates to even think the word) qui-NO. NOPE. He can’t do it! Even THINKING the Q-word is asking for trouble.
There’s a couple of Bai Zhan disciples with broken bones. One had been practicing flying on his sword, and accidentally crashed into a tree. Disciple number two had gone up the tree to try and get the first boy free and then both ended up crashing to the ground.
Does no one supervise Liu Qingge’s feral children when he’s off the peak? Mu Qingfang fumes.They’re surprisingly sweet boys, and Mu Qingfang gives them the ‘you could have really hurt yourselves!’ lecture. It goes hand-in-hand with the ‘I would feel awful if anything happened that this Master could not heal’ lecture.
Tearful apologies soon follow, and Mu Qingfang dispenses some head pats and receives promises to be more careful in the future.
A Qiong Ding peak cultivator just returned from a long night hunt with exhaustion and qi depletion. No other injuries fortunately, so the young woman is expected to make a quick recovery.
There’s- ah. Mu Qingfang peeks into one of the darkened rooms. This one has Xian Shu peak disciples who got into a fight about a romantic rival, and decided to beat the crap out of each other while Qi Shimei was out on a night hunt.
He wonders what Liu Qingge will have to say when he finds out his sister’s been beating up other disciples. Mu Qingfang smirks. He can just imagine Liu Shixiong smiling proudly and clapping Mingyan on the shoulder.
Mu Qingfang wanders down the hallway, headed to his office, when he hears shuffling and sniffling coming from one of the supposedly empty treatment rooms. He goes to the doorway, and frowns. There’s someone curled up in the bed, facing away, and quietly crying. Mu Qingfang’s chest hurts just watching.
He pulls a handkerchief from his sleeves (he has learned through bitter experience to always carry at least TEN) and approaches the bed. “Hey there,” he says gently. “You sound really upset. Can I help?”
The person in the bed shifts, and then flares their qi, coalescing it into a palm light.
Shang Qinghua wipes his cheeks with his free hand and meets Mu Qingfang’s eyes for a moment, before allowing the light to go out. “Hey.” Shang Qinghua sits up properly and leans back against the headboard.
It’s dark outside, and the only light is from the hallway, where Mu Qingfang left the door open. He doesn’t think Shang Qinghua is injured, but it’s best to make sure.
“Are you hurt anywhere?” Mu Qingfang asks, perching on the bedside, facing toward the head of the bed.
Shang Qinghua shakes his head. Roughly, he wipes his face again. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Cucumber bro,” he whispers, anguish clear in his voice. “I can’t stop thinking of everything that happened at the Conference. The way that my-that Mobei Jun actually tried to kill me.”
Slowly, Mu Qingfang lets out a long breath. Yeah. He was afraid of this. “You’ve been through a lot,” he says. “I think anyone would feel like you do.” He waits a little but when Shang Qinghua doesn’t say anything else, he prods, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Shrugging a little, Shang Qinghua says in a small voice, “What’s to say?” He looks down at his lap, where his hands are clasped. He picks at his cuticles. “It’s just weird that a few days earlier, when I saw him, everything was fine. He even…he laughed at one of my jokes.” Damp eyes meet Mu Qingfang’s. “I Don’t understand what happened to make him so…bloodthirsty. Like. What could I have fucked up that badly?”
Mu Qingfang honestly doesn’t know what to say. From the stories that Shang Qinghua has told him over the years, Mobei Jun disliked cultivators on principle, but only really hated the ones from Huan Hua. It’s the reason that Shang Qinghua made his disciple wear their blue uniforms instead of yellow at the conference to lessen the chances of confusion for the ice demon.
Eventually, Mu Qingfang asks carefully, “Has he…reached out to you at all?”
Another head shake. “Nope.”
Fuck, Mu Qingfang really doesn’t want to ask this next question. “Have you, uh. Tried calling him?”
Snorting, Shang Qinghua says, “Why would I call someone who wants to kill me?” Mu Qingfang watches a tear slide down the other man’s cheek.
“Yeah, that’s… that’s fair,” Mu Qingfang says dully. Gods, he really hopes that Binghe does kick Mobei Jun’s ass! Maybe if he asks, Binghe will let him tag along and help, he thinks viciously.
He kind of wants to ask Shang Qinghua why he decided to come to the Healing Pavilion to sit in a dark room by himself, but…he kind of doesn’t need to. “Hey, you want to stay over at my place tonight?”
Shang Qinghua laughs a little harshly. “And get on Shen Shixiong’s bad side too? No, thanks.”
“It’s not like that,” Mu Qingfang protests. “Besides, he’s hanging out with Yue Shixiong this evening.”
The corner of Shang Qinghua’s lips pull up to the side. “Oh, there it is,” he teases.
Rolling his eyes, Mu Qingfang wraps his fingers around Shang Qinghua’s wrist, and gives him a tug. “Come on. I’ll even feed you. You look like you need it.”
So he drags Shang Qinghua back to Mu Qingfang’s house and heats up some leftover chicken and rice from a couple days ago, kept under a stasis talisman. Mu Qingfang’s not very hungry so he sips on some tea and keeps his friend company.
He does have a small guest room that’s never had a guest as far as he knows. OG Qingfang never mentioned having any friends in any of the records or books that he kept. Anyway, Mu Qingfang digs up some extra blankets and pillows (the soft kind, not the ceramic version which they both rightly HATE) and tucks Shang Qinghua into bed, even patting the other man on the head before turning in.
Mu Qingfang falls asleep almost immediately, waking several hours later to Shen Qingqiu climbing in and getting under the blankets.
“A-Jiu,” Mu Qingfang murmurs happily. “Thought you weren’t coming tonight.”
“Hmm. Is that why you invited another man over?” Shen Qingqiu asks, giving Mu Qingfang a squeeze and then burying his face in his hair.
“Qinghua’s more of a hamster than a man,” Mu Qingfang says. He sighs, and then turns over so he’s face to face with Shen Qingqiu. “Found him laying alone in the dark and crying in one of the empty rooms in the Healing Pavilion. Couldn’t send him home like that.”
“A-Yuan is good at picking up strays,” Shen Qingqiu agrees, brushing some of Mu Qingfang’s hair out of his eyes. He wraps his arms around Mu Qingfang’s shoulder, and nuzzles against his neck. “Sleep.”
*
Two weeks later, Mu Qingfang comes home to the bamboo house after spending most of the day researching Xianxia treatment of dementia to find Luo Binghe kneeling at the table with a blank expression while Shen Qingqiu scolds him.
Hiding a grin with his hand, Mu Qingfang observes unnoticed for several minutes. He particularly enjoys the way that everytime Binghe says, “Shizun-” Shen Qingqiu just ignores him and keeps on talking.
Mu Qingfang’s pretty sure this is just the way these two communicate. He crosses his arms over his chest, waiting.
After Shen Qingqiu runs out of steam, Luo Binghe says pleasantly, “Would Shizun allow this disciple to speak, at long last?”
Shen Qingqiu scowls, and Mu Qingfang hastily says, “Hello! Binghe welcome back! A-Jiu, how was your day?”
Luo Binghe looks genuinely happy to see him. “Shishu! This disciple has missed you!”
Mu Qingfang pats his head, ignoring Shen Qingqiu’s glare. He sits down next to A-Jiu, and takes his hand. Only then does Shen Qingqiu relax a little. “Binghe, I thought you were off in the demon realm conquering, or something.”
Luo Binghe snorts, and Shen Qingqiu snaps his fan closed warningly. Binghe straightens up, and meets Mu Qingfang’s eyes. “I was,” he says. “Except, I discovered something worrying.”
That earns one hundred percent of Shen Qingqiu’s attention. “What did you find, little beast?”
“Shizun, this disciple did start with the frozen North. It seemed prudent to do the most difficult thing first, although Liu Shishu disagreed.” Binghe says.
Shen Qingqiu huffs. “As if that brute would know a good plan if one fell out of the sky and hit him on the head.”
“Shizun.” Luo Binghe says firmly. “Please don’t talk about Liu Shishu that way.” His eyes glow red briefly, a reflection that he really means it.
“Fine,” Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes.
Mu Qingfang’s not sure how they worked this agreement of sorts out. His understanding is that Shen Qingqiu isn’t supposed to trash talk Liu Qingge to Binghe, and Binghe will stop Liu Qingge from talking shit about Shen Qingqiu. Mu Qingfang is pretty sure that Binghe bribed A-Jiu with sweets to get that concession. Honestly, he’s kind of glad he wasn’t present for THAT conversation.
Shen Qingqiu had mostly gotten over the fact that his martial brother was…involved with his disciple, but he was still annoyed about it.
“What concerned you about it?” Shen Qingqiu finally asks.
Luo Binghe frowns, unusually serious. “Well, this disciple spoke to many of the servants of the Northern Palace. Ones that have been with the Mobei clan for many generations. They-” Binghe pauses, pressing his lips together tightly before continuing. “They all said that Mobei Jun had been acting strangely since a few days before the Conference. And that since that time, he has been almost completely absent from the North.”
“Shang Shixiong is convinced that Mobei Jun somehow changed drastically between the last time they spoke and the events of the Conference,” Mu Qingfang says.
“Yes, that’s another thing,” Binghe exclaims, leaning forward and tapping his fingers on the table. “Everyone I spoke to said that Shang Shishu was his trusted advisor, and that things were falling apart without him there to keep things running. It’s like…” The deep line between Binghe’s brows forms again.
Luo Binghe glances at Shen Qingqiu and then at Mu Qingfang. “They all said it was like he became a different person overnight.”