Health Related, Life Entrusted

by Ehann

Summary:

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.

Chapter 1

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.”

Chapter 2

Summary:

Chapter warnings: so much talking, and a spicey scene at the end.

 

After an excruciatingly long wait, Yue Shixiong says, “Mu Shidi. Can you confirm something for me?”

“Okay,” Mu Qingfang says warily. He eyes the sect leader carefully.

“You are aware of the issues with my sword?” Yue Qingyuan asks.

The next morning, Mu Qingfang wanders out to the front of the house to find Shen Qingqiu meditating at the table with a cup of steaming tea in front of him.

“Good morning,” Shen Qingqiu says without opening his eyes.

Mu Qingfang smiles. He loves this man so much! He approaches from behind and leans down, draping his arms over Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders and dropping a kiss on his head. “Hi,” he says simply. “I’m so glad you came last night.”

Warm hands find his own and squeeze briefly, before letting them go. “Yes.” 

Mu Qingfang sighs. “A-Jiu, I’m really worried about Shang Qinghua.”

Shen Qingqiu brings one of Mu Qingfang’s hands to his lips for a kiss. “The way he flinched when I raised my voice at all….” He doesn’t finish the thought, but Mu Qingfang knows him well enough that he’s aware it certainly didn’t make the other man feel good about it.

After a light breakfast the two men part ways- Shen Qingqiu off to Qing Jing to start his day with a calligraphy exam for his senior disciples, and Mu Qingfang to complete the rest of his clinic paperwork.

It’s not too bad. Xie Yanmei keeps track of the patient’s names, diagnosis and treatment, so all Mu Qingfang has to do is include his thought process and anticipated outcome. It hasn’t gotten any easier that he often can’t cure mortal illnesses. He can only treat the symptoms, and only to a point.

He truly dreads the day he discovers someone with type 1 diabetes. Perhaps he should interrogate Airplane the next time they get together to see if by some miracle he’d included a plant that substitutes insulin. Anyway, Mu Qingfang forcibly shoves those thoughts out of his mind and starts writing.

Some time later, Wu Yanshin pokes her head in the office. “Shizun, Yue Zhangmen is here to see you.”

Quickly arranging his face into impassivity (he needs to be mentally prepared for this and he’s not!) he says, “That’s fine, send him in, Yanshin.”

Mu Qingfang stands when the sect leader enters the room. After a polite bow, he says, “Good morning, Yue Shixiong. How can I help you?” He gestures at the seat across from his desk. “Shall I call for tea?”

Settling himself into the chair, Yue Qingyuan smiles and says, “That would be appreciated.”

That means this won’t just be a quick meeting. Mu Qingfang inwardly sighs. He lights a talisman, calling his head disciple back.

Wu Yanshin appears almost immediately. “The tea will be ready shortly,” she says, without even letting him get a word in. She gives Mu Qingfang a look over the top of Yue Qingyuan’s head. Brat.

Mu Qingfang folds his hands on his desk and waits. He’s getting flashbacks of all the times he was called to Qiong Ding peak for therapy sessions and the way that Yue Shixiong would take his sweet time about coming around to the point. It’s one of the reasons he finds the other man kind of annoying.

Just say what you have to say! Mu Qingfang will be gray at this rate!

After an excruciatingly long wait, Yue Shixiong says, “Mu Shidi. Can you confirm something for me?”

“Okay,” Mu Qingfang says warily. He eyes the sect leader carefully.

“You are aware of the issues with my sword?” Yue Qingyuan asks.

Oh, is that all? Whew! Mu Qingfang was starting to wonder if he was due for a shovel talk or something. “Yes. My Shizun left detailed records.” As did OG Qingfang.

Wu Yanshin returns at that moment with the tea service, and she sets out cups for them both and then pours, leaving the teapot with a warming talisman on it, before leaving without a word.

Yue Qingyuan meets his eyes. “It has become clear that having my life tied to a sword is untenable as a long term solution. Do you think it’s possible to …” He trails off, but Mu Qingfang clearly understands what he means.

Is it possible to fix me?

Yes, Mu Qingfang has seen that look from patients all too often. He taps his fingers thoughtfully on the table. Is it possible? He has no idea. “I would need to discuss it with Wei Shixiong, and possibly Shen and Shang Shixiong.”

Brows furrowing, Yue Qingyuan says, “I can understand bringing in Wei Shidi but why the others?”

“Well, because Shen Qingqiu is the master strategist, and his mind works in ways that mine does not.” Mu Qingfang leans forward. “I don’t want to take the risk of missing something. The stakes are too high. As for Shang Qinghua…” He smiles. “You could make the argument that no one knows more about this world than he. His involvement is mandatory as far as I’m concerned.”

Yue Qingyuan looks dubious, but he doesn’t protest too much.

“What brought this on, Zhangmen Shixiong, if I might ask?” Mu Qingfang says, after taking a sip of tea.

Yue Qingyuan gets a complicated expression. “At the Conference, that Ice Demon nearly killed four of my Shidis, as well as Qingqiu’s favorite disciple.”

Mu Qingfang stares at him. Internally, he’s shrieking with laughter! Sect leader, who told you that Binghe is A-Jiu’s favorite?!! They lied so hard to you!

The sect leader presses his lips together in a tight line then adds, “If I was there, I certainly would have unsheathed my sword.” His lips twist in a rueful smirk. “If I survived, I am sure that Shen Shidi would have been quite angry with me.”

Oh, he definitely would! Mu Qingfang thinks incredulously. He might kill you himself after that! “I see,” he says finally. “I will review the notes from the prior Qian Cao peak lord and make an appointment to discuss the matter with Wei Shixiong soon.”

“Thank you, Mu Shidi,” Yue Qingyuan says, apparently sincere. He rises to his feet and bows. “I shall leave first.”

What. The. Fuck.

Mu Qingfang slumps back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. This is going to be a huge pain in the ass. After a few minutes, he gets out a fresh sheet of paper and starts a letter to Wei Qingwei.

*

“Why is Yue Shixiong the way that he is?” Mu Qingfang demands crossly, after Shang Qinghua opens the door to his leisure house.

Shang Qinghua blinks, and then snorts. “I mean. There’s so many reasons, actually.” he gestures to the table. “Sit.”

Mu Qingfang rubs his hand across his face. Once Airplane sits down across from him, he says, “So Yue Qingyuan just popped by to see if I could fix his soul-sword issue. You know. As one does.”

“Ha!” Shang Qinghua laughs. “Sucks to be you, Cucumber.”

Viciously, Mu Qingfang grins back. “Sucks to be you too, bro, because I told Yue-ge that this project is going to take a village. And you’re the main villager.”

“What the fuck! I am not!” Shang Qinghua cries. “Why are you giving me more work, you dick?!”

Throwing up his hands, Mu Qingfang says, “Oh, because I’m supposed to know how to fix his sword thing? I didn’t even go to school here! I’m not a real doctor, in case you forgot! And the download of medical stuff didn’t include soul sucking swords!”

Shang Qinghua meets his eyes, and then they both start laughing. Mu Qingfang laughs and laughs, until his eyes leak and his cheeks hurt.

“Soul sucking sword!” Airplane gasps, holding his stomach as he cackles. “In my porn novel? It’s more likely than you’d think!”

“Oh, my gods,” Mu Qingfang mutters, a few minutes later. “Okay, I feel like I can cope now. Anyway, I sent a letter over to Wan Jian asking Wei Shixiong for a meeting. And I’ll talk to A-Jiu about it later.”

Shang Qinghua gets up and comes back with booze, plunking a jar of Zui Xian’s best right in front of Mu Qingfang. “Drink up, bro. Since you’ve shared your weird and pain in the ass news, allow me to share mine.” Airplane breaks the wax seal and takes a few good swallows on wine. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he says, “So you know how I worked in the demon realm for Moebi Jun for years, right?”

Oh, fuck, Mu Qingfang thinks. Airplane was right to bust out the wine. “Yeah.” He doesn’t say anything about Luo Binghe’s suspicions primarily because he doesn’t want to get the other man’s hopes up.

Airplane takes another shot of courage, belches, and then says to the ceiling, “One of my alert talismans went off this morning.” He rocks backward on his chair, tilting dangerously. “He would’ve had to go into my office there. Well, I guess it’s not mine anymore, but it was the one I used all the time. I had this nice brazier and Mobei Jun had the servants keep it full of coals, you see and-”

“So what, though?” Mu Qingfang interrupts.

Shang Qinghua leans forward and the front legs of the chair go CLONK against the floor. He leans forward, meeting his eyes. “Well, the ‘so what’ is that who would bother? Who would bother to call a human back to the Ice Palace? A servant couldn’t do it. No ordinary Demon could do it.” He’s starting to get a look on his face that Mu Qingfang recognizes too well.

It’s the “I don’t need sleep or food because I say so, and I haven’t died yet’ look. Mu Qingfang already knows what Airplane’s about to say.

“Cucumber bro, Mobei Jun is the only one who could use that talisman.” Shang Qinghua says, staring down Mu Qingfang. “And he’s calling for help.”

Fuck!

*

“No, no,” Shen Qingqiu says, running a hand over his face before glaring at Mu Qingfang. “Please tell me you didn’t just say that, Mu Shidi. I am begging you, as the only other person with any sense in this sect, do not give away your brain so easily.”

“Shizun, we should at least hear Mu Shishu out.” Luo Binghe says. He’s sitting at the table in the bamboo house, with Liu Qingge at his side. Shen Qingqiu and Mu Qingfang are seated across from them.

Mu Qingfang knows he must look like a mess. He keeps trying to run his hand through his hair, a habit he thought he’d finally gotten rid of. Clearly not!

“You said Shang Qinghua is sure?” Liu Qingge demands. He crosses his arms over his chest, straining the fabric. Mu Qingfang is pretty sure that his robes aren’t supposed to fit like that, and arches an eyebrow at Binghe, who merely smiles innocently. “Why isn’t he here, anyway?”

“Look. Qinghua has a lot of stuff going on right now,” Mu Qingfang protests. “Zhangmen Shixiong already gave him a project-”

“No,” Shen Qingqiu says smoothly, “He gave you a project, and you promptly called in three other peak lords to help you with it.”

“Hey,” Mu Qingfang says defensively,. “Sorry I can’t just invent treatments for conditions that have never been seen before. Especially when it’s not even my area of expertise!”

Needless to say, Shen Qingqiu was not happy to have the sword issue dumped on his plate as well.

Fortunately, Wei Qingwei was eager to help out. It’s a good thing, because Mu Qingfang doesn’t know where to start. But that’s a problem for future Qingfang!

The Qing Jing peak lord picks up his fan and waves it back and forth with his left hand, while entwining his fingers with Mu Qingfang’s.

“Anyway,” Mu Qingfang says firmly, “Shang Qinghua is a little…Look, I didn’t want to get his hopes up about this, but he can’t go himself, you do see that, right?”

Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge exchange glances. “Shishu,” Binghe says. “This disciple is happy to help, of course. As you know I have my own concerns about the Northern Territory.” He shifts so his body faces Liu Qingge. “Qingge, will you come?”

The War God scowls but says, “Of course.” His face softens the longer he meets Binghe’s eyes.
Mu Qingfang manfully resists the urge to roll his eyes.

Shen Qingqiu sighs deeply. “You people are going to send me into an early grave.” He leans forward, glaring at Binghe and Qingge. “You two want to take Shang Qinghua to the Demon Realm, to investigate the man that just tried to kill us all, and very nearly did? Does that seem unwise or insane to anyone else?”

Luo Binghe smiles brightly. “Shizun and Mu Shishu are welcome to come with, if you like!”

Snakelike, Shen Qingqiu whacks Binghe on the arm with his fan. Liu Qingge stiffens in his chair, but Binghe lays a hand on his lover’s arm forestalling the incoming shouting match.

“Perhaps we should invite Qi Qingqi and Gao Qingshen so they don’t feel left out,” Shen Qingqiu says sarcastically. “Or perhaps Yu Qingxin. There is no way I will allow four Peak Lords to go on this suicide mission! And Mu Shidi certainly is not going-”

“Um-” Mu Qingfang says. He can go if he wants to!

“Quiet,” Shen Qingqiu snaps. “If you think I’ll let them get you killed, think again.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “But it’s clear that I am going to be drafted to go, lest these two idiots get themselves killed.”

Shen Qingqiu kicks Binghe and Liu Qingge out shortly after that. Mu Qingfang’s not about to lie-he can feel the anger coming off Shen Qingqiu as he tidies up the table and begins aggressively washing the tea set.

He’s also aggressively ignoring Mu Qingfang.

“A-Jiu.” Mu Qingfang tests the waters. He lingers in the doorway to the small kitchen.

“Shen Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu replies icily. He doesn’t look over his shoulder.

Wincing, Mu Qingfang thinks it’s worse than he thought if A-Jiu used his full name. He takes a few steps closer. “Jiu-ge.”

Shen Qingqiu snorts. “Yuan-er.”

Okay. It’s safe to approach. Exhaling heavily, Mu Qingfang closes the distance, wrapping his arms around Shen Qingqiu from the back.

“What I want to know,” Shen Qingqiu says sharply, “Is how you managed to involve yourself with two ridiculously complicated projects at the same time? Is this a particular talent of your people? Do they teach it to the young ones?”

“What, like it’s hard?” Mu Qingfang jokes, and takes a very pointy elbow to the stomach as a result.

Turning around properly, Shen Qingqiu says, “A-Yuan.” Their eyes meet. “If anything happened to you, do you imagine I’d survive it?”

Mu Qingfang leans forward, tipping their heads together. Shen Qingqiu brings his hands up to hold Mu Qingfang’s upper arms. Mu Qingfang closes the distance between them, pressing their lips together in a sweet kiss.

Shen Qingqiu hums and deepens the kiss, taking control of it and licking his way into Mu Qingfang’s mouth. Mu Qingfang tries to respond, to bury his hands into Shen Qingqiu’s hair, but the other man isn’t having it.

Pulling away, Shen Qingqiu says, “I’m still annoyed with you, A-Yuan. If you want to get off, you’ll have to use your own hand tonight.” He softens a little and adds quietly, “I’ll hold you through it.”

*

The candles cast a muted glow against the walls, shadows flickering over skin.

Mu Qingfang’s reclining in their bed, against Shen Qingqiu’s chest. A-Jiu hasn’t bothered to slip out of his sleeping robes, but he kisses alongside of Mu Qingfang’s neck, sucking at the skin and leaving deep purple bruises.

Slowly stroking over his hard length, Mu Qingfang arches into the embrace. He tosses his head from side to side. “A-Jiu, your mouth…fuck, that’s good…”

Shen Qingqiu’s clever fingers flick over Mu Qingfang’s nipples, blunt nails on tender flesh. “Are you close yet?”

He snorts. “Since we started,” Mu Qingfang admits. His breathing is coming faster and faster, and the spiral of pleasure keeps building. More than anything, he wants to be filled right now, wants to be fucked hard and fast, wants Shen Qingqiu’s sweat in his face and his teeth on his skin.

“Don’t come until I say,” Shen Qingqiu says warningly, and Mu Qingfang whines.

“Ah- okay, fine…” He tries to slow down his strokes more, but it’s so fucking hard, he wants-

“Yuan-er,” Shen Qingqiu’s voice grows colder, and embarrassingly, his cock just gets harder.

Mu Qingfang’s hand speeds up, and then Shen Qingqiu wraps his fingers around his wrist like a vise.

“Let go.” It’s not a suggestion. Mu Qingfang does.

“A-Jiu,” he complains, and his hips try valiantly to fuck the air. “A-Jiu, please.”

“Better,” Shen Qingqiu says. “Keep your hands up here,” he shakes the captured wrist a little. “Clearly, this is something I will need to do myself, lest you get ideas.” He takes over, running his fingers lightly up and down the side of Mu Qingfang’s shaft.

It feels good, really good, but it’s nowhere close to enough.

Shen Qingqiu starts caressing over the leaking head, and there’s no way Mu Qingfang’s going to survive this with his dignity intact. A-Jiu spreads the pre-cum all over the head of his cock and all the awareness in his body is going right to his dick.

“A-Jiu, please, I need you, please-” Fuck, he really sounds desperate.

“Yes, you do,” Shen Qingqiu snaps, squeezing hard.

Mu Qingfang makes a noise that sounds a lot like “EEP!” and Shen Qingqiu laughs.

“Silly boy,” he says, his voice warming. “Do you think you deserve to come tonight?”

He doesn’t know! Maybe! “I…” Unexpectedly, Mu Qingfang’s eyes fill, and he sniffles. “...no,” he confesses, just above a whisper.

Shen Qingqiu freezes behind him. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Yuan-er,” he says much more gently. “Yuan-er is good.” Shen Qingqiu shifts a little, letting Mu Qingfang’s body slip to the side a bit, so he can see Mu Qingfang’s face, and bring their lips together.

He deepens the kiss, stroking their tongues together the way he knows Mu Qingfang likes. They kiss for a long time, until Shen Qingqiu draws back enough that his words brush over Mu Qingfang’s lips. “Now, Yuan-er, answer the question. Do you deserve to come?”

Mu Qingfang meets Shen Qingqiu’s eyes. “I love you,” he says instead and Shen Qingqiu smiles, bright and wide, showing his dimples.

“I love you,” Shen Qingqiu says, still smiling. “Now, answer the question, Yuan-er.” He leans his close, whispering directly into Mu Qingfang’s ear. “I’ll give you a hint: The answer? Is yes.”

Notes:

SQQ: *How* many peak lords does it take to rescue one (1) stupid ice demon

MQF: *Starts counting*

 

LQG: How do YOU GUYS like getting force fed dog food now, huh?!?!?!

LBH: Here's a shovel, Shizun looks hungry!

Chapter 3

Mu Qingfang hasn’t interacted much with Wei Qingwei over the years, except for when the man suffered the occasion forging-related injury. Burns were pretty common, but there was the seldom seen accidental stabbing as well.

The Master sword smith is a few centimeters shorter than Mu Qingfang, but nearly twice as wide. His shoulders and arms are thick with muscle, the cords of his forearms clearly visible through his tight fitting sleeves. His robes are dark brown with red accents, colors that Mu Qingfang supposes, hide all manner of things.

Wei Qingwei's hair is dark brown and thick (just like the rest of him!) and he wears it tied back from his face. Every two or three centimeters, he has a band of leather holding the mass of hair together forming a narrow queue down to his backside.

On his back, Wei Qingwei wears twin swords that cross right over his shoulder blades in a custom sheath that secures over his chest. His brown eyes are warm, and he smiles easily.

In short, he looks exactly how Shen Yuan expected him to look, reading his description in a web novel many years ago.

What he didn’t know until now, was the other man’s penchant for terrible jokes and his absolute refusal to have a bad mood.

Mu Qingfang has questions. Namely, can he please have some of what Wei Shixiong is smoking?

Wei Qingwei is a busy man, like all the peak lords, so invited Mu Qingfang to talk to him while he supervised the young ones in some kind of sheath carving class, held outdoors.

To his surprise, Wei Qingwei puts up a privacy array rather casually. It’s one that Mu Qingfang’s familiar with from Shang Qinghua. Wei Qingwei grins at the surprised look he gets, and says, “Qinghua Shidi has taught this dog some tricks, you know!”

More seriously, Wei Shixiong says, “It’s good that you two are friends, Qinghua Shidi has been overworking himself for a long time, and he hates anyone to call attention to it.”

Mu Qingfang smiles wryly. “Oh, I am aware,” he says with feeling. Wei Qingwei claps him on the shoulder which nearly sends him sprawling.

“Oops,” Wei Qingwei says, chagrined. “Sorry about that.” For a few moments he watches the children work. Considering they all have very sharp knives, this seems wise. “So,” he says finally. “Yue Qingyuan finally wants to do something about his sword, hmm?”

“It seems so,” Mu Qingfang confirms. “I have to admit, I’m at a loss and would appreciate any wisdom you have. Is it even possible to separate the man from the sword?”

“Oh, It’s possible,” Wei Qingwei says. “But that’s not the tricky bit. The tricky bit is if Yue Shixiong lives through the procedure, and if he has any cultivation left at the end.” He crosses his thick arms over his chest and sighs. “What do you know about what happened?”

Mu Qingfang purses his lips. “I was not yet head disciple when Zhangmen Shixiong came to Wan Jian for his sword. My Shizun left a record of the way they rebuilt his body and cultivation system afterwards, and of course, I am aware of the time he spent in the Ling Xi caves.” He adds, “Shizun did not expect him to survive.”

Wei Qingwei makes a face. “That’s it? Good gods.” A Wan Jian boy’s knife slips, and Wei Qingwei takes a worried step forward. The boy glances over at the two peak lords, grins, and holds up his uninjured hand.

Releasing a long breath. Wei Qingwei says, “The Hall of Swords has existed nearly as long as Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. The first swordsmith was gifted with the ability to speak with sword spirits, and able to imbue them into each sword he created. The thing is though, that sword spirits are much like people in a way.” He gives Mu Qingfang a serious look.

Wei Shixiong continues, “Some of them are bold and brave, like Cheng Luan, Liu Shidi’s blade. Others, like Xiu Ya, Qingqiu Shixiong’s sword, are more…” He waves a hand in the air. “Ethereal. I wouldn’t say delicate, precisely, but-”

“Elegant?” Mu Qingfang asks with a wry smile.

“Ha, yes.” Wei Qingwei agrees. He shifts his weight, heavy boots scuffing the ground idly. “The sword spirit must agree to bond with the disciple. Most of the time, when the disciple approaches the Wall of Swords, there are several sword spirits that might suit. I can think of two or three that Liu Shidi might have pulled, for example.” He gestures to the twin swords on his back. “It’s how I ended up with two.” He snickers a little. “The sword spirits themselves had bonded, and so they both chose me, in essence.”

Brow furrowing, Wei Qingwei says, “The crux of the problem is this: Yue Shixiong did not wait for a sword to choose him. He chose Xuan Su, and the sword spirit was not happy about it. In part, I think, because Xuan Su is-”

“What?” Mu QIngfang presses.

Sighing, Wei Qingwei says, “It’s kind of an asshole, if I’m being honest. It’s spiteful. My Shizun told me once that she didn’t think that sword would ever choose a person to bond with, and maybe that was for the best.” After a moment of thought, he adds, “Even still, if Yue Qingyuan had been a different sort of person, it might have been fine.” The swordsmith barks out a laugh.

Mu Qingfang frowns. “What is it?”

“Someone like Shen Qingqiu, for example, would probably have been okay if he picked that sword.” Wei Qingwei admits. “Because Shen Shixiong has a very strong personality. He’s fire and metal together, with earth underneath. Prickly. Unfortunately, Yue Qingyuan’s personality…”

Mu Qingfang knows exactly what he’s talking about. “Diffident.”

Nodding, Wei Qingwei says, “Perfect for a leader in that he’s genial and diplomatic. But to that sword?” He shakes his head. “He’s like a doormat.” Wei Qingwei winces after he says it. “Forget that, please.”

Holding up a hand, Mu Qingfang says, “I understand what you mean, and will keep it to myself. I appreciate your honesty very much.” After a moment he adds, “I asked Shen Shixiong and Shang Shixiong to help out.”

Wei Qingwei grins. “I’m a little worried about Shen Shixiong’s reaction.”

Remembering A-Jiu’s reaction makes Mu Qingfang smile. “He complained a little, but I think it would have been worse if I didn’t read him in.” He watches the young disciples for a while. “How old are they?” he asks, gesturing at the kids.

Brightening, Wei Qingwei looks proud. “These babies have been disciples for a couple of years. They’ve learned knife skills already and have been practicing safety measures for the past few months. Ling Yu lends us some tanned leather that the young ones practice on, and in return we sharpen their blades for them.” He chuckles. “And they have a LOT of blades! It’s good though. Our peaks work well together, and occasionally one of my disciples decides they would rather learn to work with the animals. So there’s some trading that happens.”

They watch the children in companionable silence for a time. Then Wei Qingwei says seriously, “About Yue Shixiong’s sword…it’s a matter I have considered from time to time.” He looks troubled. “The way I see it, options are limited. We could try to convince Xuan Su to accept him…”

Mu Qingfang narrows his eyes. “...But you don’t think that will work, do you?”

Shaking his head a little, Wei Qingwei says, “I’m afraid that it should have happened already if it was going to. Now, there’s such a discordancy between the man and the sword… No. It’s not something I would recommend.”

“And the other option?” Mu Qingfang says, a little afraid of the answer.

Exhaling heavily, Wei Qingwei says, “Have him pull a new sword. A proper sword. The one that he was meant to have.”

“So…the new sword bond would take over? How would that work?” It seems a little crazy, but what does Mu Qingfang know, he’s just a doctor!

Wei Qingwei huffs. “That’s the thing, Qingfang Shidi.” He spreads his hands wide. “I don’t know. Somehow, I don’t think Xuan Su will leave Yue Shixiong gracefully. Spiteful, remember?”

Wincing, Mu Qingfang mutters, “How did I know you were going to say that?”

“Ah, that’s because you’re a smart man!” Wei Qingwei says. The smile fades from his face. “And before you ask, the only way I know to destroy a sword spirit is if the human it’s bonded with dies.”

After leaving Wan Jian peak, Mu Qingfang goes directly to his house. He walks back to his bedroom, and triggers the hidden array, flashing into the secret room.

He still keeps a shrine to Xuan Zhen, and probably always will. Can’t hurt! Mu Qingfang stops to light fresh incense and kneels at the altar.

“Mu Qing, I really have no idea how to fix Yue Qingyuan’s sword problem. Wei Shixiong has some ideas, but they’re longshots, and there’s no guarantee that Zhangmen Shixiong would live through either procedure. If you have any ideas, please send them down!”

*

 

“Did you know about this?” Shang Qinghua demands, shoving past Mu Qingfang and walking right into his house.

Mu Qingfang blinks. “Could you be more specific?” He shuts the door behind him and moves to sit down before thinking better of it. Instead he goes to the kitchen and starts preparing calming tea. He’s started serving it to Airplane every chance he can.

Shang Qinghua just paces around. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, bro! The freaking Protagonist and Liu Shidi just--showed up! At my house!” He stops pacing and glares toward the kitchen. “Binghe thinks that something’s wrong with Mobei Jun, too! And they asked me to come with them to see what the hell is going on!”

Pouring off the hot water from the tea leaves, Mu Qingfang refills the pot. “Don’t forget Shen Qingqiu, he’s invited too!”

Shang Qinghua stares at Mu Qingfang. “Bro! I am going to kill you! Do you know what happened the last time I had to go on a mission with Shen Shixiong and Liu Shidi?! They almost killed each other and I almost died! And then Liu Shidi went around telling everyone that Shen Jiu tried to kill him!”

“Drink this,” Mu Qingfang says, thrusting a cup of tea into the other man’s hands. “Before you deviate.” He brings the tea service back and pours for himself and watches Airplane slump into a chair.

Shang Qinghua looks stressed, Mu Qingfang thinks. “Give me your wrist,” he says, holding out his hand. Airplane rolls his eyes, but extends his arm. A scan shows exactly what Mu Qingfang suspected.

Poor sleep, not eating enough, and unsettled qi. Mu Qingfang shifts his grip and performs a deeper scan of the man’s meridians. He smoothes over some definite snags near Shang Qinghua’s heart meridians, and oddly, his bladder meridians. Then he tops up Shang Qinghua’s qi just for good luck.

Sighing deeply, Shang Qinghua’s shoulders relax. “Aw, bro. Sometimes I forget you’re actually a really good doctor.”

Mu Qingfang smiles. “I’m happy to help, you know that.” He leans forward. “And for the record, it is OKAY to ask for help.” He takes a sip of his own tea. “So what’s the plan for the trip?”

A little shifty eyed, Shang Qinghua says, “Well…I may happen to have a portal talisman my King charged for me before-” He swallows. “Before.” He looks away. “It was for emergencies, and will take me to my own chambers in the ice palace.” Meeting Mu Qingfang’s eyes he says, “If all of us are touching, we should all be able to use it.”

“About the other thing…Binghe seems like he’s doing okay at, uh, moderating A-Jiu and Liu Qingge, but.” Mu Qingfang snickers. “Prepare yourself to get force fed dog food.”

“Please tell me they’ve gotten past all the longing looks still,” Shang Qinghua says, exasperated. “I thought they were banging on the regular these days.”

“Please.” Mu Qingfang says, pained. “I refuse to think about that. Everything I know about that relationship has been non consensual. I have to say, I did not expect that Binghe was going to be so…” He snorts. “Shameless. And Liu Shixiong just lets him hang all over him!”

Shang Qinghua grins. “Horny boys? In my stallion novel?”

“It’s more likely than you’d think,” Mu Qingfang agrees. “So when are you guys leaving?”

Shang Qinghua bites his lip and looks away.

“Airplane?!”

“Well, Shen Shixiong wanted to get it over with right away, so he decided to inform the sect leader tonight that, uh, we’ll leave tomorrow at first light?” Shang Qinghua slumps in his chair.

Resting his head in his hands, Mu Qingfang moans, “Why is everything happening all at once?”

 

*

 

The following morning, the soft sound of Shen Qingqiu’s voice rouses Mu Qingfang from sleep. “A-Yuan, I’m leaving for the mission shortly.” The bed shifts when he sits down on the edge.

Mu Qingfang lifts his head up from the pillow. He likes to sleep on his stomach, so his hair is everywhere. Gentle fingers lift up a thick section of hair, and A-Jiu peers at him from close up.

Blinking stupidly, Mu Qingfang says “Nooo. Don’t go. Come back to bed.” He reaches blindly and captures Shen Qingqiu’s hand, and then brings it close to his chest.

Laughing a little, Shen Qingqiu says, “You are a menace, Yuan-er.”

“Fine.” Mu Qingfang mutters, sitting up and letting A-Jiu have his hand back. The other man is dressed down in unadorned brown traveling robes, and his hair is pulled back into a simple ponytail that’s braided down to the end.

This is the first major mission Shen Qingqiu’s going on since the Conference. For a moment, all Mu Qingfang sees is Shen Qingqiu on the ground with a hole in his chest, and then encased in ice. If Mu Qing hadn’t descended… “Promise me, you'll come home safe,” Mu Qingfang says.

Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes. “I have no doubt that your little beast and his lover can handle things. Especially now that Binghe has a handle on his power. I am only there to be the brains of the operation. Well, that and to keep an eye on Shang Shidi.”

“Yes, please,” Mu Qingfang says. “A-Jiu…Qinghua says that he’s over Mobei Jun but….” He meets Shen Qingqiu’s eyes. “He still loves him, I’m sure of it.”

To his surprise, Shen Qingqiu sighs, and looks down. Without looking up he says, “Feelings are not so easy to wipe away as he would like.”

Climbing up onto his knees, Mu Qingfang wraps his arms around Shen Qingqiu. “I mean it,” he whispers. “Come home safe to me.”

 

*

 

Nine and a half months ago

“My King, this servant is serious! You have to pay attention! Or how else will you manage things once the North is yours?” Shang Qinghua trots along Mobei Jun. He’s literally trotting! The other man’s legs are so long, he’s going to break into a sweat!

“This Lord does not need to pay attention, that is what Shang Qinghua is for.” Mobei Jun’s words are calm. He keeps walking even when Shang Qinghua stops in his tracks to gape.

“My King! You, you’re not being fair! I have so much work to do for the Conference!” Shang Qinghua protests.

The hallway ends, forcing them to either turn left or right. Mobei Jun snorts, turning left and striding down the corridor towards his chambers.

“Mobei Jun!” Shang Qinghua shouts, and that makes the Ice Demon stop, and slowly turn around.

Oh, shit, Shang Qinghua thinks. He really didn’t think this through! He really, really doesn’t want to get beat up today!

Mobei Jun positively looms over him. “What.”

“It’s just that…” Shang Qinghua hesitates and Mobei Jun leans closer so they’re nearly nose to nose. In a rush he says, “It’s just that one of my spies found traces of Linguang-Jun nearby, and I really, really, wish that you’d let me do something about it.”

The demon lord rears back, surprised. “Uncle is near. Why?”

“I-My King, I don’t know, but surely it’s nothing good.” Shang Qinghua pulls his cloak, a heavy blue thing lined with silken white fur, more closely around his chest. “Seriously, I do not trust that guy. Who in their right mind leaves a little kid surrounded by enemies.”

Mobei Jun’s lips tighten. “Do not speak of that!”

“Sorry, sorry My King, I won’t, it’s just that even thinking about it is so infuriating, I just want to find little you and give him a big hug and tell him everythings going to be fine. Well, eventually, it will be, anyway.” All at once, Shang Qinghua realizes everything that just came out of his mouth. He cringes away, “Forgive me, My King, this servant spoke wrongly!”

“Does my servant lie to this Lord now?” Mobei Jun sounds pissed!

“No, my King, I would never lie to you, of course!” Shang Qinghua hurries to say. “I only meant, that I …” His words fade, as Mobei Jun stares at him. It’s not a look he’s used to seeing. Maybe he’s never seen it before, actually!

“You would have protected me?” Mobei Jun demands, out of nowhere, even taking a step closer. “If you were the human to find me, when I was a child trapped in the human realm.”

Shang Qinghua opens his mouth and then closes it again. “I-” His brows furrow. “Of course I would!” Angry now, he narrows his eyes and pokes Mobei Jun in the chest. “I could never hurt a kid!”

Mobei Jun snorts. “Even a demon child? Many of your kind feel differently.”

“My King.” Shang Qinghua for once, isn’t stammering. He’s not shaking. He’s not even properly afraid. Because this? It’s just the truth, one so obvious, it’s practically part of his marrow. His eyes lock with Mobei Jun’s. “I would have found you, and protected you, and kept you safe, until I could figure out how to get you back to your father.”

For several seconds, nothing changes, just two men in a freezing fucking corridor staring into each other’s eyes. Then Mobei Jun turns in a huff and walks away.

*

Now.

A Demon Lord, and two peak lords enter a leisure house on An Ding peak. A strong privacy array goes up around the house. Unbeknownst to the occupants of An Ding peak, a wave of pure demonic energy erupts from the middle of the house.

The array falls, and the sun starts to rise.

Notes:

WHAT am I even doing with my life?! You guys, I don;t know where this story is coming from, I really don't. It feels so self indulgent, and I thank you so much for reading and commenting!! It gives me so much joy!

 

WQW and MQF to YQY: That's a nice sword you got there. Hope nothing...happens to it
YQY: Blinks
WQW and MQF: JK! We hope it dies in a fire!

Chapter 4

Summary:

Chapter warnings:None

Shang Qinghua squeaks in alarm when Shen Qingqiu slaps a talisman on his chest, and then does the same to Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge. “Uh-”

“Attention diverting,” Shen Qingqiu says shortly. “It’s why I am here on this mission, if you people neglected something so simple.”

“Hey-” Liu Qingge says, and Binghe shushes him.

“Shizun is right,” Luo Binghe says, looking deeply into Liu Qingge’s eyes.

Shang Qinghua kind of wants to die a little, and when he accidentally catches Shen Qingqiu’s eyes, he sees his own feelings reflected back. Unable to stop snickering, he says to Shen Shixiong, “Mu Shidi did warn me about the dog food.”

With a deep sigh, Shen QIngqiu says, “They are awful.” Louder, he says, “All right Shidi, now that we’re here, where are we going?”

The portal talisman dumped them into Shang Qinghua’s personal quarters. The walls and floor are ice, of course, but tapestries and carpets keep the worst of the cold at bay. There’s a brazier on either side of the bed, and one at the foot. Even now after all this time, they’re filled with coal just ready to be lit.

Piles of furs and blankets form a mound on Shang Qinghua’s bed. On the far wall, there’s a solid looking desk with stacks of papers and scrolls in carefully organized piles. His ink is still fresh under the stasis array, and his brushes are clean and waiting to be used.

It looks exactly as it did nine months ago, right before the conference.

If something happened to Mobei Jun he can’t see any evidence of it here in his bedchambers. “We need to go next door and look in Mobei Jun’s rooms.” He gestures to a faint line in the ice wall, which upon closer inspection, is a doorway.

Luo Binghe blinks. “Shishu…his rooms are right next to yours?” He exchanges glances with Shen Qingqiu who sighs deeply and looks put upon.

“Are you sure you weren’t having an affair with him, Shidi?” Shen Qingqiu asks. “Because it seems like you were stationed in the consort’s quarters.”

“What?! I think I’d remember sleeping with an ice demon?!” Shang Qinghua squawks.

Liu Qingge says impatiently, “Well, open it up, then.”

“Just- give me a second, Liu Shidi,” Shang Qinghua says. He lays a bare hand on the hidden doorway, activating a glowing blue array which looks like fractals. Then the wall splits, opening the door just a crack. He sends his qi sweeping through Mobei Jun’s room, but it’s empty. “It’s safe, there’s no one there.”

Luo Binghe enters first, with Liu Shidi on his heels.

“Let’s go, Shidi,” Shen Qingqiu says, tugging Shang Qinghua by the arm.

Mobei Jun’s personal quarters are much less crowded, though the size is about the same. Luo Binge draws a fingertip over the wardrobe.

“Dusty,” he says, then looks over at Shang Qinghua. “The air tastes stale. I don’t think this room has been used in a long time.”

The overly large bed is unmade. Shang Qinghua stands next to it and looks down at the furs with a complicated expression.

“These furs match the ones on your bed,” Shen Qingqiu points out.

No shit, Shang Qinghua thinks. “I know,” he says simply. He squeezes his eyes shut, thinking.

Where is the last place anyone would look for Mobei Jun, if there IS somehow someone pretending to be him?

The palace dungeons? But how would they even hold him? His family has lived in this palace for generations, and places like that recognize the main family. Like the royal treasury where all the spoils of war are kept, the special jewels and the like.

“Shidi?” Shen Qingqiu says, and Shang Qinghua ignores him.

The last time he’d seen Mobei Jun before everything went to shit, he’d mentioned that Linguang Jun was around. It was entirely possible that Mobei Jun’s uncle still had some spies of his own installed in the palace, keeping him informed of things like Shang Qinghua’s comings and goings. He might even have overheard the hallway conversation in which Shang Qinghua so foolishly bared his heart.

Fuck, he should have made Cucumber bro come here. It probably would have been more helpful than Liu Qingge looming around and being a pain in the ass.

Of course, he could just…call for his King. With Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge here, he should survive, right?

Shen Qingqiu nudges Shang Qinghua’s boot with his own. “Shidi. Back with us?”

“Haha, yeah so.” Shang Qinghua meets the other peak lord’s eyes. “I could always …um. Call Mobei Jun.” Shen Qingqiu glares at him, and Shang Qinghua quails under the force of that penetrating stare. Have mercy, shixiong!! This Shidi hasn’t exactly been at his best lately!

“How does that work,” Liu Qingge demands. “You what, just say his name and he appears?”

“It’s not like calling Beetlejuice, Shidi,” Shang Qinghua snarks, ignoring the way that Liu Shidi mouths “beetle juice?” in confusion.

Luo Binghe makes a noise something like a squeal and Shen Qingqiu looks like he’s a moment away from bashing his own head against the wall to put himself out of his misery.

“Before we do anything idiotic,” Shen Qingqiu says harshly, “Let’s at least come up with a plan or is that too much to ask?” He irritably snaps open a fan and waves it so aggressively his bangs blow out to the side. “Shang Shidi. I assume you have an eavesdropping talisman somewhere? Set it up here. Luo Binghe and Liu Shidi shall wait in your chambers next door in case Mobei Jun returns to his rooms.”

His dark green gaze practically burns the skin off Shang Qinghua’s face. “I assume this place has some sort of dungeon or jail?”

At his frantic nod, Shen Qinghqiu continues. “Fine. We will check there and if he is not there, you will announce your return to the Ice Palace and we will wait for you to be attacked.”

“Shixiong!” Shang Qinghua wails, “Are you trying to get me killed?” He’s about to dive to the floor and grab Shen Qingqiu’s thighs. Surely Cucumber bro will forgive him for touching the goods, right? It’s not like he has any interest in getting into Shen Shixiong’s pants-

“SHUT. UP.” Shen Qingqiu snarls, and Shang Qinghua realizes belatedly he’s been running his mouth the whole time. Shen Shixiong glares at Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge. “You two. Set up the talisman and go back through and wait. Shang Shidi, you will come with me, now.”

Shen Qingqiu drags him out into the hallway, then slams Shang Qingqiu against the wall, laying his forearm against his throat. “I have been attempting to be understanding,” he says, leaning in closely, handsome face twisted. “But you are testing the limits of my patience. A-Yuan insisted I promise to come home from this mission, and if anything gets in the way of that goal, I will burn this entire lump of ice to the ground.”

For a moment Shen Qingqiu presses down, blocking Shang Qinghua’s airway completely. “I don’t care who is still inside. Do you understand?” He- it’s been a long time since Shen Qingqiu has been this terrifying.

Shang Qinghua nods frantically, eyes watering, and suddenly, he can breathe again.

Shen Qingqiu straightens his robes, face utterly expressionless. “Lead the way, Shidi,” and the polite, disinterested tone of voice is actually scarier than his snarly voice.

*

They make their way through the Ice Palace, sticking to the servants' passages whenever possible, and just being sneaky when they have to traverse one of the more well traveled corridors. The number of servants is drastically decreased from what's supposed to be there. What the hell happened to everyone? Two Horns, the long time steward. The female imps that handle the laundry. The Moth Demons who escort guests to and from their rooms? Like.

Where did everyone go?

Shang Qinghua keeps them far away from the throne room where the King still holds court sometimes. The last thing they need is running into Mobei Jun’s father.

He hasn’t been to the ice prison in many years, but Shang Qinghua’s memory is good and so they get there without incident. He doesn’t remember specifically writing about the ice dungeon, but uh, let’s just say, Airplane is familiar with the themes, okay?

Imagine an entire section of the palace, deep underground. The ice is several meters thick, and the ‘door’ is just a thick section of ice. Doors? Who needs doors! The idea was that the Mobei Jun (or his heir) was the only one that could visit any prisoners. Consequently, there’s no need for guards. And true to form, the outside of the ice prison is eerily empty.

Because the only time someone got tossed in here was if no one cared if they died.

Now, just plain cold temperatures couldn’t kill Mobei Jun! Ha! His King is too strong for that! But-while he is a particularly strong demon lord, second only to the Protagonist, Mobei Jun can’t practice inedia. He needs food and water like most living creatures.

“Can you actually get in there?” Shen Qingqiu asks curiously. Just looking at him now, hair perfect and robes unwrinkled, you’d never even guess that he threatened to kill Shang Qinghua a little while ago.

Airplane grins a little. “Yeah.” Call it authorial privilege. He only needs some of Mobei Jun’s blood. Which he just happens to have. Because reasons!! Hey, you never know!

Withdrawing a small vial from his sleeves, Shang Qinghua smears the blood onto his palm and then lays it on the wall of ice. Fuck, that’s cold! Once the ice starts melting into itself, he hastily removes his hand, wiping it on a spare handkerchief and tucking it safely back in his sleeve.

“I am actually afraid to ask what else you have in there,” Shen Qingqiu says.

Shang Qinghua gives him a half shrug. “You know. Stuff. Poisons, spare knives, a sword, couple sets of clothes.” He looks over at Shen Qingqiu. “Don’t you have something similar? A qiankun bag that you keep under your floorboard by the bed in case you ever have to leave without warning.”

He remembers writing it well enough, but not everything he wrote made it through to the live action version of PIDW he got plunked into.

Shen Qingqiu does not acknowledge his words at all, merely intensely watches the ice melt. In short time, a hole in the ice opens up. “Shidi.” He nods towards the opening.

“Oh, shit,” Shang Qinghua mutters. He swallows hard, heart rabbiting in his chest. “Okay,” he whispers. “I can do this.” His gaze catches Shen Qingqiu’s and the other man nods firmly.

“You can,” Shen Qingqiu confirms. Aw, is he trying to be supportive!? Growth!

Shang Qinghua calls his qi to his hand, and then flings it into the cell, illuminating the stark room. It burns out quickly, so he reaches into his sleeves and brings out a night pearl, which he sends floating to the middle of the room. It hands in midair, giving off weak yellow light, turning slowly.

It’s all ice. Nothing to temper the absolute freezing cold. No windows.

No light.

No way out.

There’s a lump of fur in the middle of the prison cell.

The sound of dripping water fills Shang Qinghua’s ears, drowning out the sound of his own breathing.

Drip.

He sees a dark blue cloak that was probably once quite fine. On the floor, there’s patches of a blue so dark it’s nearly black.
Drip.

Blue, like the color of the Mobei clan’s robes.

Blue like the color of their spilled blood.

“My King,” Shang Qinghua whispers, and he grabs at the rapidly widening edges of melting ice. The hole he’s peering through grows, until it’s nearly as large as his trunk and head. “Hurry, hurry,” he mutters. Then he calls, “My King!”

Drip. Drip. Drip.

And then, the lump of fur moves. Just a little.

Shang Qinghua feels like he can’t breathe. Is this his Mobei Jun? After all this time?

He gathers more qi into his palms, heating them up so that when he lays them again on the thinning ice, it melts even faster. “Come on, come on,” He mutters, feeling like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin.

“Watch out,” Shen Qingqiu says, spinning in place and then kicking the remainder of the wall in. Chunks of ice and water drop onto the floor, making it shine in the meager light.

“”My King!” Shang Qinghua calls again, louder this time, and scrambles through the opening, slipping a little on the wet ice, and skidding down on his knees next to the lump of fur.

It’s a body.

Shang Qinghua turns the person over, and the whole world just…stops.

“My King,” he says, voice breaking. “Mobei Jun, can you hear me?” Shang Qinghua reaches down, finding a large hand that’s pale and cold to the touch. “Is he even alive? Oh, fuck, My King, please be alive? I was so scared, I thought you-- you attacked the conference and tried to kill me…” He brings that cold hand to his mouth and kisses the icy skin.

He starts transfusing qi, even though he’s not sure that’s gonna help. He really needs-

Shang Qinghua whips his head around. “Shen Shixiong! Can you call Binghe here? I need him to give a qi transfusion to Mobei Jun.” He turns his attention back to the injured man on the floor of ice.

Mobei Jun’s face is so much thinner than it used to be! Shang Qinghua really doesn’t know how long demons can go without eating or anything! He hauls Mobei Jun up into his lap, and presses the tips of his fingers under his jaw.

Human or demon, the pulse is located in the same place.

Shang Qinghua waits, and prays to a god that’s probably not listening.

Finally, a beat. A long pause. Beat.

He starts laughing and laughing. “He’s alive!” he calls gleefully over his shoulder, though he doesn’t know if Shen Qingqiu is even still there in the hallway.

“My King, you’re alive!” Shang Qinghua adjusts his legs so he’s not sitting on his knees, and then pulls Mobei Jun more completely into his arms. He wraps both arms around Mobei Jun’s way too thin body, and holds him tight.

“I’ve got you, My King,” Shang Qinghua says. “Your Qinghua is here, and you’re alive, and, and help is coming, okay? We’ll find out whoever did this to you, and we’ll make them fucking pay, all right?”

He runs his hands over Mobei Jun’s cheeks, but the man doesn’t move or give any sign he’s awake.

“My King,” whispers Shang Qinghua. “I’ve missed you so much. It’s been so horrible, thinking that you hated me. Worse, that I thought you tried to kill me.” He lays his palm against Mobei Jun’s cheek and leaves it there, leaning over so he can press his lips to the blue mark on his forehead. “I promised to follow you for the rest of my life, my King. Please don’t go where I can’t follow.”

Time passes. Shang Qinghua’s back aches. He checks for a pulse, over and over. Beat after slow beat, it keeps time under his fingertips. Where is Shen Shixiong and Binghe?

Footsteps echo on the icy floor. Shang Qinghua looks over, saying, “I was wonder-” His voice falls away.

Smoothly, a voice says, “I thought you’d be here, sooner, honestly. I was beginning to think that you didn’t care at all for our Xiao Mobei.”

Shang Qinghua closes bis eyes for a moment, before looking back over his shoulder. He really, really wants to be wrong.

Please, can’t he be wrong?

There’s a large man standing between Shang Qinghua and the melted doorway. His front is all in shadow, but his silhouette is large. Larger than it should be.

Cool blue qi flares, and then Linguang Jun sneers down at him. The blue mark on his forehead glows with power, and Shang Qinghua is in much worse trouble than he’d thought. The aura around this man is so much more powerful than it’s ever been.

Of course. Because he’s got the power of the Mobei clan ancestors behind him

Somehow, Linguang Jun killed the King, and absorbed his ancestral power.

I’m so fucked, Shang Qinghua thinks. Then he looks down at the man still cradled in his arms and goes completely still.
Mobei Jun’s eye lids are cracked, the tiniest bit, and he’s looking right at Shang Qinghua. Taking a deep breath, Shang Qinghua runs his thumb gently over Mobei Jun’s lean cheek, right over the cheekbone. Involuntarily, his arms squeeze a little tighter around Mobei Jun.

All at once he remembers a conversation from a long time ago. A conversation about a little boy, and his murderous uncle.

I would have found you, and protected you, and kept you safe, until I could figure out how to get you back to your father.

There’s no father, not anymore.

But there is still a Shang Qinghua. He brushes his thumb over Mobei Jun’s cheekbone again, and nods infinitesimally.

“Killing your brother is so lame,” Shang Qinghua says. “What did you do, drug him, then stab him in the back?”

The heels of Linguang’s boots click on the floor. His boots are kind of nice, Shang Qinghua thinks. He wonders what beast they’re made from.

“My brother,” Linguang Jun says conversationally, “didn’t deserve the power he had. What did he do with it, hmm?” He leans down, the blue of his eyes glowing. “But just look at what I was able to accomplish with it?”

He straightens back up, and wanders in a semi circle, so that he can see Mobei Jun more clearly. “I truly thought I’d killed you, like the vermin you are,” Linguang Jun muses aloud. “I have to say, I thought that demon brat with you would be more impressive than he was.” He sighs. “Disappointing.”

“And so you captured Mobei Jun before or after you murdered his father?” Shang Qinghua says scathingly.

Linguang Jun scoffs. “It wasn’t difficult. I have learned a thing or two about arrays from our good friends in Huan Hua palace. Poor deluded Mobei Jun, always so desperate to believe that his family loves him.” He sneers, the expression making his handsome face contorted and ugly. “When it’s obvious that no one ever could.”

“You’re wrong,” Shang Qinghua says coldly, meeting those ice-blue eyes, so similar to his King’s.

Linguang Jun actually chuckles. “Do you know how easy it was to convince poor Mobei that his pet human didn’t care for him at all?” He walks away a few steps and then spins in a circle dramatically, like a cartoon villain twirling his mustache. “And of course, the final blow to his absurdly soft heart.” Linguang Jun smirks. “I told him how I knocked you from your sword, how your head hit the ground. How you bled, and struggled to breathe.” He makes a tsk-ing noise. “Honestly, I am quite shocked that you did survive. Tell me, how did you manage it?”

Shang Qinghua smiles, baring his teeth. “A martial god descended. Gave me a full heal and everything. I was on my feet the next morning like nothing ever happened. All my friends, too.” He cocks his head to the side. “Oh, you might not know! Do you know who that demon boy your tried to kill was?”

Holding his arms out wide, Linguang Jun says, “Oh, do enlighten me.”

His smile gets wider, showing more teeth. “The son of Tianlang Jun.”

The smile on the ice demon's face falls away all at once. “Impossible!” He exclaims. “Everyone knows that human loving trash had no children. His own lover betrayed him!”

“Hmm, no.” Shang Qinghua says. “Everyone thinks that, sure.” The longer he keeps this douche canoe monologuing the better his chances of survival get. “See, Su Xiyan refused to betray her lover. She wanted their child, more than anything else in the world. So much, that she absorbed poison into her system rather than allow it to touch her precious baby.”

Eyes meeting, he continues, “Su Xiyan escaped the water prison and gave birth alongside the Luo River on the coldest day of the year. With the last of her strength, she sent the baby, Luo Binghe down the river on a raft made from the reeds at the riverbank. Eventually, that child made his way to Cang Qiong mountain sect where he was accepted as a disciple.”

Shang Qinghua’s voice grows more powerful as he speaks. His audience is silent…enthralled…waiting for the finale. “He was chosen for Qing Jing peak, did you know? We taught him swordfighting, and strategy. He knows music. He knows poetry. And you know what else he knows?”

With a snort, Linguang Jun tosses his head. “Oh, little human. Do tell me.”

“He knows how to conceal his presence from fuck faces like you.” Shang Qinghua says, with relish.

Linguang Jun looks up in surprise, at the sudden rush of demonic energy that fills the room.

In the doorway, stands a man with gleaming red eyes, and a glowing huadian on his forehead. “Shang Shishu,” Luo Binghe says, demonic qi flexing. “I take it the man in your arms is the real Mobei Jun?”

Snarling, Linguang Jun says, “Boy, I am the Mobei Jun, now.”

From behind Binghe a smooth voice drawls, “Well. For another few minutes, I suppose.”

Shen Qingqiu has returned, with reinforcements.

Notes:

SQQ: I am tired. I am cold, and I am SO SICK of being fed dog food

LBH: Look how cute Qingge, is though! *squeals*

Chapter 5

Summary:

Chapter warnings: Uh, cannibalism? The Canon typical kind?

“Well. For another few minutes, I suppose.”

Shen Qingqiu’s sword unsheathes itself, and the bright glow of Xiu Ya’s blade immediately brightens the room. Seconds later, an even brighter sword glare appears.

“Oh,” Liu Qingge says to no one in particular. “This asshole. Binghe.”

Then so many things happen at once. Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge attack Linguang Jun, Shen Qingqiu with sword seals, while the Bai Zhan War God just strides forward swinging his sword, the bright light from Cheng Luan illuminating the cell like it’s mid day.

Luo Binghe quickly kneels by the downed Shang Qinghua and real Mobei Jun. Binghe lays a hand on Mobei Jun’s shoulder and starts passing demonic qi. Without losing his concentration he says to Shang Qinghua, “Shishu, it seems we may have much to discuss after we return home.”

Fuck. Did Binghe not know? Did Cucumber bro not tell his little favorite about his entrance into this world? “Luo Shizhi. You were never unwanted by your parents. And your father lives, still, buried under a mountain.”

Binghe’s face gets tense, and he silently pumps qi into Mobei Jun. Shang Qinghua feels the power of it secondhand. Yikes, the Protagonist is crazy OP!

Meanwhile, Linguang Jun defends himself with a series of ice spears and barriers. He’s forgotten something important though. When he attacked the peak lords at the Conference, all the peak lords had already fought their way through a bunch of monsters. Right now? They’re both fresh as can be! And both Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge had discovered after the conference that once they were fully healed, their cultivation had actually improved! Thank you Xuan Zhen!

And lastly, Shang Qinghua smirks, watching Linguang Jun pause and then look first confused and then furious...

“What did you do?!?!” The ice demon growls at Shang Qinghua. “You did something!”

Showing his teeth again, Shang Qinghua says, “Oops. Did I forget to mention? The ice prison is a non-teleporting zone.”

Linguang Jun’s face twists in fury and he sends a flurry of ice arrows at him. Hastily, Shang Qinghua erects a qi barrier that shatters instantly, but deflects the arrows.

Mobei Jun shifts on his lap, his eyes open all the way now. He blinks, his bright blue eyes flickering between Shang Qinghua and Luo Binghe.

“Hello, Mobei Jun,” Luo Binghe says politely, like a good Qing Jing peak disciple. “This disciple is Luo Binghe, and Shang Shishu requested my help for you.” He keeps pumping a seemingly endless supply of demonic qi while he speaks, and Mobei Jun’s color improves right under Shang Qinghua’s eyes.

“You should know,” Binghe continues calmly, “The other ice demon came very close to murdering Shang Shishu, my Shizun, Mu Shishu and my cultivation partner.” The words are said mildly, but Mobei Jun twitches in alarm. “So I hope you don’t mind too much that your uncle is definitely going to die.”

In the background, Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge are fighting in tandem, whirling around each other in perfect synchronicity. Shen Qingqiu has started flinging talismans at Linguang Jun while the man is very much occupied with Liu Qingge's overly large sword.

Finally, Binghe actually pats Mobei Jun on the shoulder! Cucumber bro, what have you been doing to my protagonist! Standing up, Binghe rolls his neck, and then flexes his qi again.

“Qingge,” he calls simply, and Liu Qingge grins.

“Tear him apart,” the War God says, and then tugs Shen Qingqiu back out of the way.

“What-” Shen Qingqiu says, but Liu Shidi just pushes him toward the melted door.

Shang Qinghua decides this is a great time to put up a protective barrier!

Unable to teleport, Linguang Jun has a more difficult time. He’s still absurdly strong, especially compared to how he was before absorbing Mobei Jun’s father’s powers. But Luo Binghe was always meant to defeat the northern Demon King in battle.

And he definitely doesn’t need Xin Mo to be able to do it. This Binghe had his meridians fixed early by good old Cucumber Bro! This Binghe trained personally under the Bai Zhan Peak Lord (don’t say it, don’t say it don’t say it) and honed his demonic powers under much more controlled conditions than the OG Bingge.

Moving faster than Shang Qinghua’s eyes can follow, Binghe flash steps to Linguang Jun and with a burst of qi, shoves him into the wall so hard the ice cracks. Binghe doesn’t bother to draw Zheng Yang. He just loads his hands with rippling red qi and beats the shit out of the ice demon.

Unable to use portals in the ice prison, Linguang Jun isn’t quite so OP this time. It also helps that Luo Binghe isn’t in excruciating pain with the release of his demon seal. No, Shang Qinghua’s martial nephew is in perfect health!

So absorbed in observing this very satisfying beat down, Shang Qinghua at first doesn’t realize what the shifting on his lap means. He glances down to find Mobei Jun wide awake and watching him closely.

“My King!” He says in relief. “How do you feel? Are you okay?”

“Qinghua,” Mobei Jun rumbles and then starts trying to get up.

Shang Qinghua recognizes Bai Zhan hand to hand combat, the way Luo Binghe efficiently dislocates one of Linguang Jun’s arms. When he rips it from his shoulder joint spraying dark blue blood everywhere? That’s pure demon! Binghe tosses the limb aside carelessly. “Should I rip a hole in your stomach next, like you did to Qingge? Or perhaps one through your chest like you did to my Shizun?” His tone, remains conversational, and Shang Qinghua thinks that Linguang Jun is only now starting to realize exactly how much he’s fucked around.

Linguang Jun sends a dark spear of ice towards Binghe, but Binghe just bats it aside like it’s nothing and the ice shatters like glass.

“You deserve everything that’s coming to you,” Luo Binghe says, eyes gleaming bright red, matching his demon seal. Around him, the air ripples with demonic energy.

Now it’s time to find out, you bag of dicks! Shang Qinghua starts in surprise, when Mobei Jun rises smoothly to his feet. He’s still thin, but qi hums under his skin. Apparently Binghe’s heavenly demon qi was quite restorative.

“His crimes were in my name,” Mobei Jun says harshly, and Binghe glances over, meeting his eyes. “He murdered my Father, stole his power.” Mobei Jun’s ice gaze falls upon his uncle.

Linguang Jun iced over his shoulder so he didn’t bleed out, but Binghe’s got his neck in a grip tight enough to purple the man’s face.

“His death is mine,” Mobei Jun says to Luo Binghe.

Binghe glances over at Shang Qinghua who nods. Then he relaxes his fingers, allowing Linguang Jun to gasp for air.

“You are a traitor to our Clan,” Mobei Jun says. “I expel you from these lands. Your name will be expunged from the ancestral records.” He bares his teeth. “And I’m taking our power back.” He reaches right into Linguang Jun’s chest, shadows rippling around his hand, and then pulls out his heart, without leaving a gaping hole in the other man’s chest.

For a moment, Linguang Jun looks shocked. He blinks twice, and then collapses to the floor, dead.

Mobei Jun wears a complicated expression for just a few seconds while he stares intently at the twitching meat in his hand. And then he-

Shang Qinghua looks away.

He does not want to watch Mobei Jun eating his Uncle’s STILL BEATING HEART, thank you!

Behind them, Shen Qingqiu makes a noise of distaste, and Shang Qinghua hears the rustle of his robes. Heh. Shen Shixiong is so grossed out!!!!

Luo Binghe wanders back to Shang Qinghua, assisting him to his feet. “I thought they couldn’t make portals here?”

Smugly, Shang Qinghua says, “If they received that ability from the Ancestral power, they couldn’t. But Mobei Jun was born with that power. And there are very few things that interfere with it.” Almost like he was the favorite of the local author-god or something.

Second in power only to the protagonist, and entirely capable of holding the demon realm together in Bing-ge’s absence or inattention.

Once Mobei Jun has finished eating Linguang Jun’s still beating heart, he turns and surveys the room, taking in the other two peak lords, and the rising demon lord, before giving Shang Qinghua his full attention.

An aura of icy blue ripples over Mobei Jun’s skin, before settling. His eyes meet Shang Qinghua’s. “I thought you were dead,” he says unsteadily. “He told me…” He takes a step closer, and the unfamiliar power ripples over his skin again, but this time Mobei Jun’s expression turns pained.

“My King?” Shang Qinghua says carefully. “Are you oka-”

The ice demon falls to his knees, looking up at Shang Qinghua in a daze. “Bring his body to the…Underground Sanctuary for the ancient rites. I need to…” His eyes blink slowly, and Shang Qinghua recalls just how long his King has gone without medical care, or food, only to get filled to the brim with heavenly demon qi!

At least, Shang Qinghua thinks, sliding across the ice again to catch Mobei Jun before his head hits the solid ice, this time I’m not alone.

Liu Qingge carries Linguang Jun’s body the same way he carries dead monsters. Shang Qinghua uses his physical strength and his cultivation to drag Mobei Jun into his arms. He needs a little help to get to his feet, but it’s fine! Once he’s vertical, it’s hardly different from hauling heavy boxes up and down a thousand stairs at a time!

Shen Qingqiu keeps looking at Shang Qinghua like he’s re-evaluating everything he previously thought about him. Take that, Shixiong! Shang Qinghua has Depth!

Along the way, Shang Qinghua discovers most of the servants in the Ice Palace have been hiding from the former King of the North. Two Horns runs up to him once they return to the main Palace.

They’re some kind of Deer Demon, but instead of a rack of antlers, they just have the two horns. “Advisor Shang! Advisor Shang! Lord Mobei Jun has been taken!” The Deer Demon’s hooves scrabble on the ice.

Wryly, Shang Qinghua looks down at the unconscious Demon King in his arms. “Well, we found him! He’s the King now, you know. Please find the Palace healer and send them ahead to the Underground Sanctuary.”

When Two Horns is halfway down the hall, Shang Qinghua calls after them, “Hey! Bring some food and water, too!”

 

*

They lay Linguang Jun’s body on the raised platform in the Underground Sanctuary. Once Liu Shidi lets go of the body, the building actually rumbles, and then a nearly inaudible humming begins. The platform begins glowing a cloudy white, and slowly a dense fog builds, encasing Linguang Jun’s body, preserving it for the Ritual Ascension.

Nearby, Mobei Jun has received care from the Palace Healer. The doctor is a rather wizened old ice demon, not from the main family. Mobei Jun has cousins upon cousins. The ice demons were always meant to be attractive, and as a rule, they commonly marry outsiders.

Mobei Jun’s mother, an Abyssal Demoness, was presented as tribute decades ago to Mobei Jun’s grandfather. The grandfather opted to betroth her to Linguang Jun: a good marriage for a second son.

Except, Mobei Jun’s father was exceptionally handsome, much like his son, and he fell in love with the Abyssal Demoness, stealing her from Linguang Jun on the day of his wedding. It was an insult Linguang Jun never recovered from, and honestly, Shang Qinghua never blamed him for that.

He did however, blame him very fucking much for leaving little Mobei alone and at the mercy of demon hating humans who were all too happy to torture and then kill a little boy.

 

Linguang Jun deserved his fate for that alone, Shang Qinghua thinks. He also thinks it’s kind of poetic that the ability Mobei Jun was so known for- creating and traveling through portals- was a direct inheritance from Mobei Jun’s mother’s side of the family.

While the healer treats Mobei Jun, Shang Qinghua speaks to the rest of his group.

“Are you guys tired? I can totally have rooms prepared for you-”

Shen Qingqiu holds up a hand. “What I would like is to go home now that everything seems to be sorted here. He looks around, distaste clear on his face. “Shidi, the next time your lover decides to practise cannibalism, I would appreciate a warning.”

“Hey!” Shang Qinghua defends himself. “Do you think I had any idea that was going to happen?!”

“YES. I. DO.” Shen Qingqiu says clearly. “I will be practicing inedia for the rest of my life, no thanks to him.”

Hanging his head a little, Shang Qinghua sighs. “Okay, well. Until my King has recovered enough to perform the ritual, he shouldn’t be making any portals.”

“Qinghua.” Mobei Jun calls, and Shang Qinghua startles a little.

“My King!”

Mobei Jun stands up abruptly, ignoring the doctor's protests. It kind of reminds Shang Qinghua of Cucumber bro a little. Mobei Jun calls shadows to his hand and tears open a portal.

The ice demon glares around at Shen Qingqiu. “I have opened a portal to Qinghua’s house. Go now if you desire.”

“Um, you guys better go,” Shang Qinghua says. “Tell my disciples I’ll be back in a week.”

“No,” Mobei Jun says, intently meeting Shang Qinghua’s eyes. “You will stay for longer. We will…talk.”

“Oh kay,” Shang Qinghua says, voice going high and squeaky.

Shen Qingqiu gives him one last piercing look. “Do not get yourself killed as soon as my back is turned.” He steps through the portal without delay.

Luo Binghe bows to Shang Qinghua. “Shang Shishu. This disciple looks forward to speaking with you upon your return.” He turns his attention to Mobei Jun. “Mobei Jun. You should know that Humans do not show affection through beating each other up. If you hurt Shang Shishu, you will have to deal with me.”

Binghe doesn’t wait for a response, but turns and strides through the portal, tugging Liu Qingge with him.

It snaps closed, and uh…. Boy, does it feel quiet in this place!

“Qinghua.” Mobei Jun says. “This Lord has many questions.”

 

*

 

Shen Qingqiu shudders as he comes through the portal. The bone deep cold makes all of his joints ache, in spite of his cultivation. A moment later, Luo Binghe and Liu Shidi step through, and the portal snaps shut. It leaves no trace, not even residual demonic qi.

Leaning over to inspect where it was, Shen Qingqiu murmurs, “Fascinating.” A-Yuan will be so jealous that he didn’t get to experience it. He looks up, finding the other two men looking at him oddly. “What?”

Liu Shidi exchanges glances with Binghe. Then he says, “See? You were so worried for nothing. Everything was fine.”

Luo Binghe sighs, and runs a hand over his face. “Qingge.” He sounds pained.

“I’m leaving,” Shen Qingqiu announces. He makes a disgusted face. “I need to erase the last sichen or two from my memory permanently. Eating his heart, repulsive!” He leaves Shang Qinghua’s house without waiting for either of those two to say a word.

He’s grateful that this mission was completed so quickly, and without any casualties. He hadn’t wanted to worry A-Yuan, but. Shen Qingqiu was not exactly eager to go face down a demon that nearly killed four peak lords. The thing is, A-Yuan will want details, and…Shen Qingqiu feels like it’s something he really doesn’t want to talk about. Now, or ever.

He’s seen some pretty terrible things in his time as a slave, and then as a demonic cultivator. But witnessing Mobei Jun eat a live heart?

Shen Qingqiu’s stomach roils and he forces himself to breathe evenly. Then he stops, suspended on his sword above the Rainbow bridge. Where is Shen Yuan likely to be? Shen Qingqiu would really like the comfort of his…

His lips twist. He hates the term ‘lover’. It feels so inconsequential. Shen Yuan means so much more than that.

He opts to return to Qian Cao peak. Once he touches down, he sends a qi message to Yue Qingyuan stating that he will report first thing in the morning. Shen Qingqiu enters the Healing Pavilion.

The disciple at the front desk looks up at the sound of the doors. “Shen Shibo,” he says. “Do you need a healer?”

This kid looks familiar. Shen Qingqiu squints a little. The young man appears to be in his early twenties. Actually, wasn’t this kid about fifteen? When did he get this old? “I need to speak with Peak Lord Mu, if he’s available?” Shen Qingqiu says tersely.

Sun Zhaohui smiles. “In that case, Shizun can be found at his residence.” His smile widens. “He left word in case Shen Shibo returned.”

“Thanking Disciple Sun.” Shen Qingqiu says, and he leaves.

He finds Shen Yuan wandering through the garden, muttering at his demonic plants. Shen Qingqiu smiles, using his qi to enhance his hearing as he walks up the low hill.

“At least you guys would never be so stupid,” Shen Yuan says to one of his plants, the sound of his boots crunching over the soil. More pacing and then, “Everything better be fine.” A pause and then, “Wait…is that?”

Shen Yuan appears at the garden gate, looking down the hill. “A-Jiu!” Quickly, he exits the garden, the gate swinging closed behind him with a clunk. “You’re back so soon!”

The pleasure in Shen Yuan’s voice is gratifying, and the way he flings himself into Shen Qingqiu’s arms more so. Shen Qingqiu absorbs his momentum, swinging the other man off his feet and around in a circle.

“You’re all right?” Shen Yuan demands, fingers already reaching for Shen Qingqiu’s wrist. The delicate trickle of Shen Yuan’s qi is as welcome as it is familiar.

Shen Qingqiu cups Shen Yuan’s face between his hands, and gives him a slow kiss. “A-Yuan. You have no idea what I’ve been through. Your Jiu-ge is traumatized.”

Smiling bright and wide, Shen Yuan says, “Well, you’re home now. Let Yuan-er fuss over you, hmm?”

Shen Qingqiu threads their fingers together, and they walk back to the house hand in hand.

Notes:

SQQ: watching SY chow down on braised beef and rice

SQQ: I am now a vegetarian.

Meanwhile, back at the ice palace:

MBJ: My uncle killed my father and stole the ancestral power, and killed the only person who cared about me. I will just lay here and not die for 9 months.

SQH: MY KING

MBJ: Is that a...PEAK LORD? And, another one? Wait, why does Qinghua know a HEAVENLY DEMON

Chapter 6

Summary:

Chapter warnings: *winces* Mentions of euthanasia from 'Regardless'. Canon typical cannibalism?

BUT!!!!

ALSO MOSHANG!!!!

Shang Qinghua instructs the elderly physician to have food brought for Mobei Jun. He makes sure two of the remaining loyal guards remain outside the entrance to the Underground Sanctuary, though with Linguang Jun now dead as can be, Shang Qinghua feels a lot more secure about it.

That leaves himself and Mobei Jun in awkward silence.

At least Mobei Jun created chairs of ice for them.The ice demon still looked weak, but certainly much better than when Shang Qinghua had first found him. They’re sitting facing each other, knees nearly touching, and Shang Qinghua has a hard time making eye contact.

It’s only now that the adrenaline has faded, that he recalls exactly how forward and shameless he’d been. Kissing him on the forehead! What was he thinking!!!

“Shang Qinghua,” Mobei Jun says, drawing Shang Qinghua’s attention from his rapidly spiraling thoughts.

Even when they first met, Mobei Jun was never this thin. He doesn’t quite look frail exactly, but he definitely looks sick still.

“My King,” Shang Qinghua answers, forcing himself to meet the other man’s gaze. Looking at him now, like this, it seems absurd that he even believed that Linguang Jun was his King, back at the conference. Clearly, he must have been using some sort of illusion to make him appear as Mobei Jun.

“It is…good to see you.” Mobei Jun’s expression is tired and drawn. “He…my uncle told me that he killed you.” His gaze is unflinching.

Swallowing, Shang Qinghua has to look away. “He…nearly did,” he says softly. “It’s really a miracle. A martial God descended and healed me, because I really was going to die.”

Like he’s back there in that moment, Shang Qinghua hears a memory echo of the System:

{Luo Binghe MUST enter the Endless Abyss! Punishment Protocol loading}

{10,000 B-points deducted for Host’s refusal to follow quest requirements}

{Current B-Points 357. When point totals get to zero, Host will be returned to Original World}

Shang Qinghua remembers Shen Shixiong creating the small dust storm, and taking the chance to scoop Binghe up onto his sword, high in the air, out of sight of-- ‘Mobei Jun’.

He remembers the heartbreak when ‘Mobei Jun’ carelessly knocked him out of the air, and the way the ground rushed up at him. Then, nothing mattered but the pain. His ribs shattered on impact, and his head….Oh, his head.

“I am sorry.” Mobei Jun says, drawing Shang Qinghua’s attention back to him. “I…should have listened to you. About my Uncle.”

“My King,” Shang Qinghua says. “What happened?!” He leans forward, elbow on his knees. He almost doesn’t want to know, but…at the same time…he has to know.

Rubbing his forehead, the ice demon looks away. “This Lord was foolish. My uncle came to see me shortly before I intended to leave for the conference.” Lowering his hand, Mobei Jun’s blue eyes look onto Shang Qinghua’s. “He told me he was proud of me. And then laid a hand on my shoulder.”

Mobei Jun’s expression turns bitter. “He had poisoned needles hidden between his fingers. I do not know what kind. I was unable to move, and fell to the ground. Uncle…” The ambient temperature drops suddenly, and Mobei closes his eyes for several seconds.

When he opens them again, the temperature has recovered to it’s usual level of cold. “He had some kind of artifact, and drained most of my powers. It looked like a yellow ball of light.” Mobei Jun says. “I remember thinking that Qinghua would know what it was.”

Fuck. Shang Qinghua has an idea, yeah. And for the record, it was supposed to be stuck in a distant cave for the Protagonist to find like a hundred years from now! If the System hadn’t been burned out of his head, Shang Qinghua would have definitely cursed it.

Wait a second, he thinks, brow furrowing. Did the System put that Life Transfering Crystal in Linguang Jun’s pathway on purpose? Did it know, even before the conference started, that Shang Qinghua had no intention of forcing Binghe into the Abyss?

Weakly, Shang Qinghua says, “Yeah, I…I do know. My King, I--” He barks out a laugh. “I really thought you meant to kill me. After all those years of beating me up a few times a day…I figured…”

Mobei Jun’s eyes go comically wide and he looks alarmed.

“-that you finally figured that you would finish the job and just get rid of me, once and for all.” Shang Qinghua has trouble getting the words out through the tightness in his throat. He averts his eyes, and stares down at his clasped hands.

Large fingers come into his vision, wrapping around Shang Qinghua’s hands.

“No,” Mobei Jun croaks. “I would never-!” His grip tightens, then abruptly loosens, like he only just recalled his strength. “Shang Qinghua…did you truly not know?”

Shrugging, Shang Qinghua says to the floor, “If you care about someone….Why would you want to hurt them?” His voice cracks a little and he clears his throat. He forces himself to meet Mobei Jun’s eyes. “My King. Why did you hit me so much, then? What was the point?”

Taking a deep breath, Mobei Jun lets it out all at once. Haltingly he says, “It is…” He trails off, then starts again. “It is meant to show that a prospective mate is strong. Strong enough to provide.” When he meets Shang Qinghua’s eyes, his expression is bleak. “It is. How things are done. With demon couples.”

What. The fuck.

“And, um. What was I meant to uh…to do?” Shang Qinghua says. “If…” His cheeks heat and he bites his lip. “If I wanted to, ah….” he makes a vague gesture with his hand.

Mobei Jun blinks, then straightens up. “To accept a courtship…you would only have to return the gesture.”

Shang Qinghua’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “You think I’d ever-” He shakes his head. “My King, I want to do something else, is that okay?” Mobei Jun just gives him a blank stare, so Shang Qinghua shakes his head and adds, “To, um. Accept? If I can…still do that?” His voice trails off, but then Mobei Jun nods aggressively.

“Yes,” he says firmly. “Anything.”

“Okay, so.” Shang Qinghua stands up, hastily circulating his qi so his cold-numbed legs will remember how to work. He takes a step toward Mobei Jun. Is he really going to do this?? His heart feels like it’s about to beat right out of his chest.

But Mobei Jun watches him with eager eyes, like he’s barely restraining himself from…something. So Shang Qinghua gathers his meager courage, and lays both his hands on Mobei Jun’s shoulders. Carefully, cautiously, Shang Qinghua leans down and presses his lips against Mobei Jun’s demon mark.

Large hands engulf Shang Qinghua’s waist, nearly spanning it, and then tug him right into Mobei Jun’s lap.

“This--is how humans court?” Mobei Jun demands. “Qinghua…is sure?”

Oh, that’s… Oh. “My King,” Shang Qinghua says seriously, “If I had known, I would have given you the same answer years ago!” It doesn’t seem so scary now, to bring his hands up and cup Mobei Jun’s face between them.

Mobei Jun doesn’t seem to understand kissing, but Shang Qinghua is willing to put in the time and effort to teach him. After some enthusiastic practice, Shang Qinghua breaks away to catch his breath for a moment.

“My King…” Shang Qinghua bites his lip.

“What is it?” Mobei Jun asks, leaning forward, like he’s looking for more kisses.

“It’s…” Shang Qinghua looks away, and then back into Mobei Jun’s eyes. “The hitting. It’s. It’s a dealbreaker for me.” Mobei Jun frowns, and Shang Qinghua continues. “After the conference…It was a long time before I could stop thinking about how much you-he, hurt me.”

“Before,” Mobei Jun says. “This Lord did not know. The way that humans…” The demon looks troubled. “This Lord has heard what Shang Qinghua has said. And what the Heavenly Demon boy said. This Mobei Jun gives you his word...he will not hurt you again.”

*

 

Mobei Jun must spend the next seven days in deep meditation, balancing his energies in order to assimilate the rest of the ancestral power. Shang Qinghua would like to go back in time to kick his own ass.

Why, oh WHY, had he been so -hand wavy- about the entire Mobei Clan Ascension thing? Shang Qinghua swears, he never intended his perfect man to actually have to eat his Father. Or, well. Uncle.

Shang Qinghua endeavors to put the particulars as far out of his mind as he possibly can for the rest of forever. He feels a little bad for snickering up his sleeve at Shen Shixiong’s disgust about the still beating heart thing.

Shixiong, he wants to cry! This Qinghua was wrong!!!

Repress, repress, repress! He’s going to act like Cucumber Bro and very firmly never think of it again.

Also, he’s making Mobei Jun brush his teeth before Shang Qinghua kisses him again, because ICK.

Anyway, at the end of the seventh day, Mobei Jun rises from the platform, the demonic qi rippling under his skin with the full force of every prior Northern King. Mobei Jun hasn’t gotten any taller but his presence seems deeper, more there. His usual bulging muscles have not magically regrown either.

It doesn’t matter. They’re both here, and for the first time, they finally understand each other!

Mobei Jun crosses the room and engulfs Shang Qinghua in his arms, lifting him clear off his feet. Shang Qinghua laughs out loud, cupping the man’s cheeks in his hands. “My King.”

“My Qinghua,” Mobei Jun says, simply. He opens a portal in front of them and Mobei takes them through, to the Ice Palace. To the start of something new for both of them.

*

Mu Qingfang does not actually enjoy being buried in books and paperwork. He’s passed off the vast majority of his Peak Lord duties to poor Wu Yanshin while he scours the Qian Cao library for resources or references he can use as some kind of guide for Yue Qingyuan’s evil sword problem.

At the back of his mind, he’s pretty sure he already knows what the treatment most likely to succeed will have to be, but he really, really does not want to have to offer it up as a possibility.

For one thing, Shen Qingqiu will lose his fucking mind, before Mu Qingfang even finishes his first sentence.

At this point, he’s combed through OG Qingfang’s records on Yue Qingyuan back when he was simply Yue Qi, a strong disciple from a humble background. No where did OG Qingfang even discuss a theory of how to deal with the Xuan Su issue.

Wei Shixiong has helpfully sent over some records from about two hundred years ago. The cases are not really equivalent, or even applicable. It didn’t involve the sect leader, but rather the head disciple of Wan Jian peak who tried to bond with a second sword spirit.

It…didn’t go well.

He lived, kind of. But Wei Qingwei had made it clear the reason that the subject’s name was unknown was because he never made it to Peak Lord. His cultivation base was destroyed by the competing sword spirits.

At one point, Mu Qingfang leans back in his office chair and wonders if there might be a convenient volcano nearby that he can drop Xuan Su into? Hey, if it worked for the One Ring, why couldn’t it work for a very pain in the ass sword?

Anyway, Mu Qingfang flies back to Wan Jian peak a few days later to return the records. Wei Shixiong is naturally in his forges, dressed in the heavy dragonhide apron and gloves, hammering a very large sword while wide-eyed disciples watch and try not to flinch at all the golden-red sparks flying.

He doesn’t interrupt the sword smith during his work, but when Wei Qingwei is finished, one of his disciples tugs at his apron, and then points at Mu Qingfang who gives him a rather sheepish wave.

Grinning, Wei Qingwei calls out in his booming voice, “Ah! Welcome Mu Shidi! Have you come for a lesson in forging today? You better get to the back of the line, Shidi! These little ones won’t stand to wait any longer.” He tugs off his heavy gloves and sets them down on a nearby metal table. “Children, out! Go get some water while I talk with your Shishu.”

Bemused, Mu Qingfang watches the Wan Jian disciples file out of the building, chattering and laughing. “They seem so happy,” He observes.

“Oh, well, I try,” Wei Qingwei says cheerfully. He accepts the records back with a rueful glance and tosses them onto the table with his gloves.

Mu Qingfang winces. He just imagines if Shen Qingqiu was here to witness the callous disregard for the sect’s history! “Shixiong, apologies for just dropping by, but-”

Wei Qingwei waves a hand in the air. “It’s no problem, Shidi. I could use some water myself. I’m not getting any younger and the heat is draining after a while.”

 

He leads them past more smithing stations, heavy anvils spaced apart with tools neatly hung nearby. A short corridor leads to a rather open office. Two walls are simply nonexistent, and the barely visible flicker of a qi barrier is the only indication that there’s anything there at all.

A sturdy wooden table holds a large clay pitcher with a cooling array inscribed on it, and a stack of clean cups. Wei Qingwei motions for Mu Qingfang to sit, and pours them both some cold water.

Mu Qingfang drinks his appreciatively, while Wei Shixiong removes his apron and hangs it on a nearby hook. Finally, the swordsmith takes his seat.

“Well, out with it, Shidi,” Wei Qingwei says. “It surely looks like bad news from your expression.”

For a long moment Mu Qingfang looks down at the table top. It’s scarred with various burns and water marks. “I have reviewed all the relevant records regarding Zhangmen Shixiong,” he says finally, lifting his gaze to meet Wei Shixiong’s warm brown eyes. “I fear that the only treatment that has a -” Mu Qingfang holds out a hand and waggles it. “Even a fifty percent chance of working will be too…optimistic.” He winces. “Experimental? I don’t think that’s a good enough word.”

“Shidi.” Wei Qingwei’s eyes are steady. “If you know the best course of action, you’d better just say it. Then we can deal with it, or not. But either way, you wouldn’t be worrying about it by yourself.”

“That’s the thing, though,” Mu Qingfang protests. “It’s not the only course of action! The smartest thing to do would be-” He throws his hands up into the air. “Honestly, the smartest thing, the best thing would be for the Sect leader to do nothing!”

“Every action, even those we consider benign, have a reaction,” Wei Qingwei replies after a moment, one hand wrapped around his now empty cup. He taps his temple slowly with the fingers on his other hand. “Still, it was Yue Shixiong who came to you, correct? Requesting a solution to this problem?”

“Yes,” Mu Qingfang agrees glumly.

“Well,” Wei Qingwei says reasonably, “Perhaps it’s something that Yue Qingyuan feels he can’t live with.” He leans forward. “Perhaps. No matter how extreme your treatment is, he would be willing to undergo it, if only so he could feel free.”

Rubbing a hand over his mouth, Mu Qingfang considers that. Soul tied to a sword…Did the Sect Leader feel chained by it? He sighs heavily. “When we spoke last week, you said the only way you knew of to break a sword spirit bond is if the human tied to it dies.”

“Yes,” Wei Qingwei says slowly. His eyes meet Mu Qingfang’s, and then he sits up straight. “Shidi-”

“There is a medical procedure,” Mu Qingfang says woodenly, staring down at a scorch mark on the table. He picks at it with his thumbnail.

In his mind, he sees an elderly man laying on a bed. His face is covered in bruises and lacerations. He sees himself sitting at the bedside, talking to him, holding his hand while the elderly man slowly dies. He sees himself stand up, lay a hand in the middle of Xiang Xue’s chest and stop his heart.

“I can stop someone’s heart temporarily. That will break the bond. And then I can restart it again.” Mu Qingfang’s throat is tight. His thumb catches on a ragged edge, but he keeps picking.

In his mind, he pulls the sheet over Xiang Xue’s still face, then turns and leaves the room.

“The risks are high,” Mu Qingfang says. “But…if Zhangmen Shixiong truly feels that he can not live this way…I would…consider it… But Shixiong.” Mu Qingfang presses his lips together. “If it didn’t work, if Yue Qingyuan died…I don’t think Shen Qingqiu would ever forgive me. And I. I couldn’t forgive myself.”

Notes:

I had the worst day today at work so I am YEETING this chapter into the void. I would love it if you left me a comment!!!!

 

MBJ: What do you MEAN that's not how humans show affection?!?!?!

(LBH, MQF and SQQ all crack their knuckles threateningly in the background)

MBJ: Kissing is good too? *smooch*

Chapter 7

Summary:

It's Mu Qingfang angsty hours! Starring Shen Yuan's canon desire to run away and hide from all his problems.

Mu Qingfang returns to his peak feeling a lot more numb and disconnected than he has done in a while. Distantly, he meets with Wu Yanshin in the healing pavilion and takes back some paperwork so he’ll have something productive to do.

Back in his office, he reads page after page about his crop of junior disciples and their progress through the Herbs and Flora section of their curriculum. For obvious reasons, this is one of the most important sections, although aphrodisiacs are not covered under this umbrella.

Those are an entire other subject, handled later in their studies.

Yanshin had included a few already marked exams for him to look at, and Mu Qingfang reads them over critically. He really is lucky that Wu Yanshin refused to take another position as an independent healer.

Unlike other peaks, where the head disciple could be a fifteen year old without too much issue, on this peak, the head disciple had to actually be a capable adult, who could think critically and on the fly. And of course, be a damn good doctor.

Speaking of, Mu Qingfang has never felt so much like a fraud since his earlier transmigration. He desperately wonders what OG Qingfang would have made of all this, No matter how much he wracks his brain, Mu Qingfang can’t figure out a way to tell Yue Qingyuan that, sure, he thought up an idea, and the sect leader just has to die a little bit for it to work! It will probably be fine! What’s the worry!

Oh, and Shen Qingqiu? The person you love most in the world, Mu Qingfang’s about to temporarily kill them. Just for a minute or two. Three tops!

Fuck. They’ll run him out of the sect!

Carefully setting his inked brush down on the ceramic rest, Mu Qingfang puts his head into his hands. He can’t do this.

Except he has to do this.

Comfort the sick and heal the wounded, regardless of the hardships, he thinks in self disgust, before rising from his desk.

He sends Xie Yanmei a qi message letting her know that he will be attending the clinic in the morning.

By the time his head hits the pillow, Mu Qingfang’s racing brain hasn’t slowed much. Or at all. It’s only when he starts seeing patients the next day that his anxiety quiets enough for him to be able to focus on just one thing.

His patients.

The Lord of Qian Cao Peak is so dedicated! The Lord of Qian Cao Peak cares so much for the mortals to personally come and heal them!

The Lord of Qian Cao Peak is a useless millennial fraud, Shen Yuan thinks grimly, setting a bone.

He attends clinic the following day. And the day after that.

However the third day in a row he tries to attend clinic, he finds Wu Yanshin on his doorstep before breakfast. With a sigh, he allows her in.

“Good morning, Shizun,” Wu Yanshin says, dark eyes narrowed. Her braid looks particularly tight today giving her a rather pinched expression.

“Yanshin, could we perhaps meet a little later-” Mu Qingfang begins.

“No,” She answers flatly, arms crossed over her chest. “Sit.”

Mu Qingfang rolls his eyes, but sits.

She takes a seat across from his, folding her hands neatly on the table. She says nothing, just gives him an expectant look.

Stubbornly, Mu Qingfang meets her eyes, keeping his lips firmly closed. The impasse lasts quite some time. Finally, Mu Qingfang brakes, saying, “I’m supposed to meet Yanmei-”

“I canceled it,” Wu Yanshin informs him flatly. “Shizun is overworking himself again. One wonders why.” It is more of a demand than a question.

“Look, Yanshin, there’s things I can’t-”

“Is this about Yue Shibo’s sword?” She interrupts. When Mu Qingfang boggles at her powers of deduction, she merely waves a hand. “Shizun has been conferring with Wei Shibo multiple times in past weeks, after not seeking him out for years. This only happens after Yue Shibo himself pays an unexpected visit to Shizun on Qian Cao instead of calling him to Qiong Ding.” She leans forward. “Also, this disciple heard the same rumors Shizun did years ago.” She arches an eyebrow. “People love nothing more than to talk. They do little else.”

Mu Qingfang opens his mouth and quickly shuts it again.

“The last time Shizun overworked himself like this, he was fighting with Shen Shibo.” Wu Yanshin says, like she’s feeling him out. “But…” Her brows furrow.

Rubbing his forehead, Mu Qingfang looks away and says wearily, “Things are fine with Shen Shixiong.” For now, he mentally amends, with a twinge of his chest.

“That was convincing,” Wu Yanshin says mildly, and his gaze flickers up to meet hers. “This disciple is convinced.” Since when did she get this good at sarcasm?? She says nothing for long moments then adds, “Renshu. You know very well nothing good comes of ignoring things you don’t want to deal with. This disciple strongly encourages you to talk to Shen Shibo about whatever is bothering you so that he might help. You don’t know how he-” She presses her lips together and exhales heavily.

“While you were recovering from your injuries,” Wu Yanshin says, leaning forward. “Shen Shibo had to be forced to eat. To sleep. To bathe. He may be many things, Shizun, but an uncaring and unreliable person is not one of them.”

Mu Qingfang leans on his elbow, palm over his eyes. “You’re right,” he mutters. “I know you’re right.” He removes his hand and straightens. Grimly he says, “I will make arrangements to have him join me at Qiong Ding peak.”

“I can take care of that for you, if you’d like.” Wu Yanshin offers.

“Thank you, but I will take do it,” Mu Qingfang says.

*

Later that evening, someone lets themselves into Mu Qingfang’s residence.

“A-Jiu?” Mu Qingfang calls. He can’t imagine who else would just walk right into his house. He’s been laying on his bed with an arm thrown over his eyes.

Footsteps on the floorboards. “Were you expecting anyone else to visit this late at night, A-Yuan?” Shen Qingqiu asks archly.

Mu Qingfang sits up, and rubs his eyes before sending a smile towards Shen Qingqiu. The other man leans against the doorframe casually, but his dark green eyes are piercing. “I wasn’t,” Mu Qingfang says finally.

“I heard an interesting rumor this afternoon,” Shen Qingqiu remarks, gliding closer. He’s wearing light green outer robes with an inner layer of dark green and two of white. He sits down next to Mu Qingfang on the bed.

“Oh?” Mu Qingfang says. “About what?”

Shen Qingqiu whips out a closed fan and smacks Mu Qingfang’s shoulder.

“Hey!” He cries defensively. Mu Qingfang ducks a second swat and captures Shen Qingqiu’s wrist. He guides the Very! Dangerous! limb back down to A-Jiu’s side.

“One wonders why I had to hear through a messenger of this meeting with the sect leader tomorrow, A-Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu says sharply. “Is there a reason we didn’t just discuss it?”

Mu Qingfang looks down at his hands.

Shen Qingqiu takes a deep breath and then exhales on a long sigh. “Yuan-er. Talk to me.”

“You’re going to be angry,” Mu Qingfang warns, feeling absolutely exhausted. He’s so sick of dealing with this fucking sidequest Yue Shixiong dumped on him.

“Possibly,” Shen Qingqiu agrees. “The probability becomes more likely the longer you leave me waiting.”

“I haven’t even discussed it with Yue Shixing yet,” Mu Qingfang says. “I’d rather talk to you both about it at the same time.”

“Hm.”

“The thing is, though,” Mu Qingfang says, “I have to let Yue Shixiong consider the risks and benefits of it, and then he has to be the one to decide if he’s willing to go through with it.” He shrugs half heartedly. “He’s an adult of sound mind and body, and this decision will affect his life. I just…” He shakes his head a little and his eyes go unfocused. “Sometimes there’s no perfect option, there’s just options which are less bad than others.”

“Yes, that sounds completely normal and nothing at all to worry about.” Shen Qingqiu says. “Get up, Yuan-er.” He gets up and brings back one of the cushions from the table, tossing it on the floor. “Sit. I will fix your hair.”

Once Mu Qingfang settles on the floor between Shen Qingqiu’s parted legs, Shen Qingqiu takes his hair down and starts running the comb through.

“Has Shen Yuan reconsidered my offer of marriage?” Shen Qingqiu asks after a few minutes.

Jumping in surprise, Mu Qingfang whips his head around, trying to peer at Shen Qingqiu’s face. “What?! Why would you ask me that? Of course not!”

“Look straight ahead,” Shen Qingqiu says firmly. He works in silence until all the tangles and snarls are clear and Mu Qingfang’s hair ripples like silk. “Gossip travels quickly across these twelve peaks, A-Yuan,” he says finally. “Also, Wei Shidi sent me a message recently suggesting he was worried about you.”

That traitor!!

“So,” Shen Qingqiu continues, separating Mu Qingfang’s hair into three sections. “We have the Head Physician meeting with the Master Swordsmith shortly after Yue Qingyuan decides he wants to finally deal with his cursed sword bond.” Deftly, he begins plaiting the hair loosely for sleep. “The obvious way the bond of a spiritual sword can be broken is if the cultivator dies. So, tell me, A-Yuan.” He ties off the ends with a thin strip of leather. “Should I be worried about Qi-ge’s life?”

Hanging his head, Mu Qingfang says, “Maybe. The theory...the world I came from could revive people whose heart stopped unexpectedly sometimes. If the cardiac arrest was witnessed, the chances of recovery were much higher.” He rises and then slumps next to Shen Qingqiu on the bedside.

“A-Jiu,” Mu Qingfang says, chewing on his lip. “If I fail…would you hate me? Would you even be able to look at me?” When he finds the courage to peek over at Shen Qingqiu, he finds the other man giving him a penetrating look.

He doesn’t say anything though, so Mu Qingfang says through a tight throat, “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” His chest feels tight and his stomach twists uncomfortably. “I think I want to try and get some sleep,” he says into the silence. He keeps his gaze averted. “Don’t feel like you have to stay.”

He feels Shen Qingqiu’s qi roiling next to him. It gets his attention, and not in a good way, so he steels himself then angles his body to face the man.

“Oh, have you decided I’m still worthy of your attention and time?” Shen Qingqiu snaps. “Enough with the self pity, Yuan-er, it doesn’t suit you in the least.” He glares balefully. “I actually would go back to Qing Jing peak tonight after the drivel you just said to me, but I fear you might do something even more stupid like decide that we’ve broken up.” Shen Qingqiu leans in close and says very. Very. Slowly. “Which. We Have not.”

He grabs Mu Qingfang’s chin and forces him to meet Shen Qingqiu’s eyes. “Say you understand me, Yuan-er.”

He would like to, Jiu-ge, but his mouth is smashed together! Shen Qingqiu’s hand strength is not to be underestimated! “Understand,” Mu Qingfang manages, feeling ridiculous.

Shen Qingqiu sniffs, but releases Mu Qingfang’s face. “Get in bed, A-Yuan. And shove over. I am not leaving you alone. Who knows what kind of wrong decisions you’d make in this state of mind.”

At least Mu Qingfang gets the pleasure of watching Shen Qingqiu strip off his robes until he’s down to a single layer of inner robes. The other man climbs into bed and aggressively pulls Mu Qingfang’s body back against his chest. “There,” Shen Qingqiu murmurs. “Ignore the bad thoughts. They’re not real. Focus on me, A-Yuan, your Jiu-ge is right here.”

For the first time in days, Mu Qingfang’s mind goes blissfully quiet. “Shen Qingqiu,” he sighs. “I love you so much.”

*

 

The next morning, Shen Qingqiu is already awake and dressed when Mu Qingfang stirs.

“Good morning,” Shen Qingqiu says. “I’ve already informed Qi-ge that we’re arriving shortly. Get dressed. We’re eating on Qiong Ding peak.”

Blinking stupidly, Mu Qingfang tries to process this. “Ah? I thought our appointment with Yue Shixiong was in the afternoon?”

“I moved it,” Shen Qingqiu states flatly, “after I determined you need supervision for this.” He snaps open a fan and waves it lazily. “Now. Up.”

In short order, Mu Qingfang is bullied into a very quick wash up and then into proper clothes. Shen Qingqiu tugs him right onto Xiu Ya and flies them directly to the sect leader’s residence. To his surprise, they find Wei Qingwei already there and drinking tea in Yue Qingyuan’s front room.

“Qi-ge,” Shen Qingqiu says with narrowed eyes. “Did you make that tea you forced onto Wei Shidi?”

We Qingwei’s lips pull to the side, and he tries to hide his smile.

Yue Qingyuan gives Shen Qingqiu an innocent expression. “Why don’t we get started? Mu Shidi, please sit.”

While Mu Qingfang settles onto a kneeling cushion, Shen Qingqiu removes the teapot without a word and proceeds to make a new pot of tea. Yue Qingyuan’s gaze follows the man fondly.

The three men wait in silence until Shen Qingqiu returns with fresh tea. He sets the teapot on the table with a particular glare at Yue Qingyuan. “Mu Shidi will pour.” As the youngest, goes unsaid, but Mu Qingfang has been the recipient of this kind of teasing since his recovery from the Conference.

Amused, Mu Qingfang pours without complaint. It’s only then when everything is just so that Yue Qingyuan says, “Thank you all for coming. Mu Shidi, have you any treatment options?”

Wei Qingwei is seated across the table from Mu Qingfang, and his gaze is sympathetic. The swordsmith gives him a small nod of encouragement.

After taking the required sip of tea, Mu Qingfang says, “Zhangmen Shixiong, as you might imagine the options to remove or mitigate the spiritual sword bond are limited. After extensive discussion with Wei Shixiong…” Fuck. “I need the Sect Leader to understand that there are, in fact, at least two options.” Resolutely, he meets Yue Qingyuan’s eyes. “First. We do nothing.” He holds up a hand when Yue Qingyuan tries to interrupt. “I would entreat Zhangmen Shixiong to hear this physician out before responding.” He waits for Yue Qingyuan to nod agreement before continuing.

“As I understand it, your current status is stable. As long as you do not draw your sword, your soul and life force is in no danger. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Yue Qingyuan says. “But-”

“The second option is to perform an experimental treatment that has perhaps fifty to sixty percent of success. If the treatment fails, Zhangmen Shixiong would be left dead, unable to cultivate properly-or at all, or else with chronic neurological and/or physical disabilities.”

That gets Yue Qingyuan’s attention and his lips part in surprise.

Doggedly, Mu Qingfang continues. “It is well known that death is the only way to break a sword bond.” He presses his lips together and then says tightly, “The treatment entails stopping your heart for a short time, long enough to let the sword shatter, and then revive you.”

Shen Qingqiu is motionless next to Mu Qingfang, his gaze fixed on the table, apparently seeing nothing.

“How. Ah.” Yue Qingyuan shifts. “You can just…stop someone’s heart?”

Mu Qingfang smiles without humor. “Medicine and poison are opposite sides of the same coin. One side heals, the other kills. Yes, to answer the question. I can use a precise burst of qi to stop someone’s heart. This is usually done at the end of someone’s life to end their suffering.”

He pulls the sheet over Xiang Xue’s face.

“When I was younger,” Mu Qingfang ignores the way Shen Qingqiu starts next to him, “I learned a technique that can be used to keep blood circulating while someone’s heart is stopped.” Eyes unfocused, he says, “It can be brutal. Cracked ribs are not uncommon. Aspiration is not uncommon.”

Frowning a little, Mu Qingfang says, “However, now I have cultivation to aid me. I must ask the sect leader. Is your condition so bothersome, so upsetting to you that you would take the chance of dying to rid yourself of it? To leave behind those you love, to leave behind our Sect?” Mu Qingfang’s eyes meet Yue Qingyuan’s.

“If Zhangmen Shixiong truly feels that he can no longer abide life with his sword bond the way it is, if he feels so chained by the warped bond that he can not bear it, this Mu Qingfang is willing to do the procedure.”

He doesn’t mention how, if it fails, he would likely be run out of the sect. Hated. Reviled. The man who killed the sect leader.He doesn’t mention how, if he fails, Shen Qingqiu would be left broken hearted from the loss of his Qi-ge.

Unsteadily he gets to his feet. “I will let you discuss the options and take my leave.”

 

And Shen Yuan books it the fuck out of there. He jumps over the porch stairs on the way out and then immediately slams into something solid, ending up on the ground, looking dazed up into Shang Qinghua’s face.

Shang Qinghua is dressed in heavy dark blue robes, and his hair is decorated with sapphires and citrines. His cheeks are pink, and he’s grinning like a madman. He looks the happiest and most stress free that Mu Qingfang has ever seen him. He extends a hand to haul Mu Qingfang to his feet. “Hey, Cucumber bro. Miss me?”

Notes:

It's Thanksgiving in the US today, so I bring you a chapter full of martial family drama LOL

MQF: *dramatically* NO ONE COULD EVER FORGIVE ME FOR KILLING THE SECT LEADER

SQQ: Can we *Please* talk about this rationally?

MQF: SQQ WILL HATE ME FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE, SHUNNING ME FOREVER

SQQ: ...A conversation? I am begging

MQF: I WILL HAVE TO RUN AWAY AND NEVER SHOW MY FACE

SQQ: ....

SQQ Okay, if you think I'm letting you out of my sight for more than 30 seconds, you're nuts.

DEAX EX HAMSTER

Chapter 8

“Airplane!” Mu Qingfang exclaims with relief. He eyes his friend, and then grins. “You look so good!”

Snickering a little, Shang Qinghua whirls in place, then does a ‘ta-da!’ motion with his hands. “Always the tone of surprise,” He teases. “Hey I got a message from Shen Shixiong to come here for an urgent meeting with Yue-Shixiong. You know what that’s about?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Mu Qingfang says, “Oh, yeah.” He glances behind him, but A-Jiu hasn’t come chasing after him yet. “Yeah, it’s. Yue Qingyuan finally wanted to do something about his sword.”

Shang Qinghua’s eyes widen. “Damn, really? Huh.” His brows furrow and then he meets Mu Qingfang’s eyes. “Have you tried turning it off and turning it on again?”

Wishing for one of Shen Qingqiu’s fans so he could whack the shit out of Airplane’s shoulder, Mu Qingfang rolls his eyes. “Sort of. Personally, I think it’s too risky, but…”

Squinting, Shang Qinghua says slowly, “Putting it back into the sword hall is too risky?”

“No-wait, what?” Mu Qingfang is lost.

“Wait, what were you talking about?” Shang Qinghua demands.

Huffing, Mu Qingfang says, “Well, I was talking about stopping his heart for a couple of minutes to let the sword shatter-”

“WHAT?!” Shang Qinghua cries, and finally someone else is giving this the kind of concern that Mu Qingfang is! About time! Continuing, Shang Qinghua says, “Dude, no.” He looks up to the sky muttering, “I swear to god the farther people get from the Protagonist, the dumber they get.”

“HEY.”

“Calm down a minute and listen to your favorite author God, okay?” Shang Qinghua pats Mu Qingfang on the shoulder. “So, back in my drafts, I had this idea, well, okay, it was mostly like a fanfiction idea based off Proud Immortal Demon Way, but here, you know, that draft folder is getting a LOT of action!”

“Can you get to the point?” Mu Qingfang demands, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Holy fuck, you’re impatient, Cucumber bro, did anyone ever tell you that?” Shang Qinghua laughs. “Listen to your elders for a minute. All he has to do is return the sword to the sword hall.”

“That is way too fucking easy,” Mu Qingfang says. “In my experience, if something’s too good to be true,-”

“Yeah, yeah, it usually is, I know!” Shang Qinghua agrees. “But in this case, it’s more like a-” His face does something funny, and Shang Qinghua presses his lips together. Then he bites his bottom lip. And then he just busts a gut laughing. “It’s like a back door!”

Of course, Mu Qingfang thinks sourly, this is the humor he has to deal with. “Are you twelve?”

Still giggling, Shang Qinghua says, “No. More like nine, for real.” Once he finally stops laughing, and it does take a few minutes, he adds, “So there’s a secret area in the wall of swords that only the sect leader and the Wan Jian peak lord can access. As a matter of fact they must enter it together. See, the idea was that this- well, at the time, it was punishment, like taking back someone’s sword, and it would only be used as a last resort. Think- just short of putting someone to death for crimes against the sect. But before you remove their cultivation, you make them give back their sword.”

Cocking his head a little, Shang Qinghua says, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not gonna feel great for Yue Shixiong, not even a little bit, but it should remove the sword bond without having to kill him to do it.” After a moment he adds, “We just have to ask Wei Qingwei if that chamber actually exists.”

Mu Qingfang deflates. Oh. Yeah. Okay. “We can go ask in a second.” He furrows his brows. “Did you get married or something?”

And Shang Qinghua just lights up in a way Mu Qingfang has never seen before. Shang Qinghua does a little happy dance and radiates pure joy. “We’re betrothed! The fortune teller is looking at auspicious dates but it’s a little confusing because does she want my birth chart from now or my birth chart from the other world? I’m gonna have her run both of them and then use the better date.”

It’s such a relief to see his friend happy, excited about something again, that Mu Qingfang says sincerely, “I’m really happy for you, Airplane. A-Jiu told me about what happened with Mobei Jun and his scummy Uncle. Also,” he adds, “What the fuck, dude? Cannibalism?! Shen Shixiong was legit traumatized!”

Barking out a laugh, Shang Qinghua exclaims, “Bro, imagine how I felt? No, no, My King had to brush his teeth after his Ascension. That was too much, even for me.”

For several moments the two men just grin at each other in silence. “Speaking of betrothals-”

“Here we go,” Mu Qingfang mutters.

“Binghe’s been making good headway in the Demon realm. Killing Linguang Jun counts as beating the Northern King, so he’s getting credit for that, even though it was my King that actually finished the job. Mobei Jun very much does NOT want to be Emperor, though, so he’s happy enough to support Binghe’s campaign to unite the realm.” Shang Qinghua rocks back on his heels, adding, “It’s only a matter of time before he has enough stuff to start sending betrothal gifts to the sect for Liu Qingge.”

“Binghe’s not even twenty!” Mu Qingfang squawks.

Raising his eyebrows, Shang Qinghua says, “Yeah, and? He could have gotten married at sixteen, bro, you know this.”

Rubbing his chin, Mu Qingfang pictures the thin little boy he met years ago. “Where did my little white lotus go?”

Snickering, Shang Qinghua says, “He’s a badass Demon Lord now. Cucumber bro, you would not believe the amount of dog food my King and I have to put up with while Binghe’s visiting the North. Holy shit, I know things about Liu Qingge now I definitely wish I could un-know.”

Given the pained expression Shang Qinghua gives him, Mu Qingfang can’t help his amusement. “I am begging you to never tell me or allow me to find out.” Once his smile fades he says, “I’m really glad you’re back, Airplane. And I’m really happy that you’re happy.” And then he pats Shang Qinghua’s head.

*

Shen Qingqiu looks pleasantly surprised when Mu Qingfang rejoins the meeting, bringing Shang Qinghua in tow. He smirks. “Did Shang Shidi capture you on the way out, Mu Shidi?”

Kneeling at the table, Shang Qinghua grins. “Practically ran right over me,” he says, pouring himself tea. “Good thing I was there, he’d probably be down the mountain already.”

Shen Qingqiu folds his arms over his chest, giving Mu Qingfang a piercing look. “Oh, I am well aware.”

“Anyway,” Shang Qinghua says, “We were talking outside, and I had an idea. Wei Shixiong, this may sound like a weird question but um. By any chance is there a secret chamber in the Hall of Swords?”

Wei Qingwei frowns. “What kind of secret chamber?”

Mu Qingfang blinks. Is there…more than one secret chamber?

“Oh,” Yue Qingyuan says, sounding sheepish. “Wei Shidi, I believe Shang Shidi is referring to the Punishment Chamber.”

Shang Qinghua chokes. “Is that what you’re calling it? Lame,” he mutters in English, and Mu Qingfang snickers, then hastily covers his mouth.

Steepling his fingers together, Yue Qingyuan says, “As I’m sure you all know, my Master was killed during the siege at Bailu mountain, just before Tianlian Jun was sealed.”

Shen Qingqiu snorts. “Ah, yes. When the prior generation had to have Qiong Ding’s head disciple do the work of the entire Cultivation world.” His voice is scathing. Mu Qingfang thinks that back when it happened, he probably wasn’t able to express his sheer worry about Yue Qingyuan. And clearly, he still has feelings about it.

“Yes, well,” Yue Qingyuan says. “At any rate, afterwards with the Cultivation world in shambles, I required a period of bed rest. I occupied myself with combing through my Master’s study and reading all the works he kept.” His eyes meet Wei Qingwei’s. “One of the older journals mentioned the Punishment chamber in the Hall Of Swords which could be used to -” His lips part and he sits up straight, eyes flying to Shen Qingqiu. “Which could be used to remove the bond between sword and master.”

Looking aggravated, Wei Qingwei says, “I thought that was just a rumor! My Shizun--” His eyes go unfocused. “Actually…” He furrows his brows. “I was going to say that Shizun never mentioned such a room, and then I recalled him mentioning the Expungement Array.” He looks to the sect leader. “Perhaps we’re speaking of the same thing.”

Mu Qingfang doesn’t care what you call it, as long as he doesn’t have to kill Yue Qingyuan!

Fortunately, the discussion doesn’t last too much longer. Unfortunately--

“Mu Shidi, stay behind for a moment if you would,” Yue Qingyuan says, rising to his feet.

Internally sighing, Mu Qingfang murmurs, “Of course.” He catches Shen Qingqiu looking at him and gives him a smile which he doesn’t really feel. Judging by A-Jiu’s expression, the other man is well aware of this.

“I will meet you later,” Shen Qingqiu tells Mu Qingfang softly, brushing a hand over his shoulder.

Mu Qingfang watches the others leave with a heavy heart. He really was not planning for a heart to heart today, Yue Shixiong!

The sect leader refreshes the heating talisman on the tea pot. “More tea?” Yue Qingyuan asks politely, kneeling back down at his cushion.

“Thank you, no.” Mu Qingfang demurs. “How can this Shidi be of service.” Of more service, he wants to say. Fuck, but he’s irritable.

To his surprise, Yue Qingyuan meets his eyes saying, “Ah, I was about to ask the same thing.” He waits but Mu Qingfang is wise to this game! And frankly, Wu Yanshin is much better at it.

Mu Qingfang folds his hands placidly and waits.

“Mu Shidi…I can’t help feeling like you’re angry with me for some reason.” Yue Qingyuan says earnestly.

For some REASON?!

“Oh?” Mu Qingfang asks. “This Shidi must ask forgiveness.”

Yue Qingyuan presses his lips together for a moment. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about? Perhaps…clear the air?”

Look, Shixiong, if Mu Qingfang starts listing off his grievances, this is going to be a long meeting. Instead he deflects. “I can’t imagine what Zhangmen Shixiong thinks this Shidi might be angry about?”

“Contrary to what some may think, I have always been concerned about my sword and the effects upon my lifespan.” Yue Qingyuan says gravely. “It’s only that recently…” He smiles a little. “After reconciling with Shen Qingqiu, I find myself much more willing to have difficult conversations.”

Oh, really, Mu Qingfang thinks, remembering when Shang Qinghua nearly died because Yue Qingyuan basically ordered him to work without rest until the Rainbow bridges were repaired following the Demon attacks.

“Mu Shidi never used to shy away from informing me…” Now Yue Qingyuan really does smile. “...When I’ve fucked something up.”

In spite of himself, Mu Qingfang snorts. “Is the Sect Leader requesting to be scolded?”

“No, definitely not,” Yue Qingyuan says easily. His long fingers tap the table restlessly. “Over the years Mu Shidi’s counsel has been appreciated. He need not hold so much back.”

Mu Qingfang’s qi roils in his meridians, and he forces himself to take some deep breaths. Under the cover of the table he clenches his fingers so hard he digs little half moons into the flesh of his palms. “...”

“Shidi, I asked you to stay behind because I am concerned about you.” Yue Qingyuan’s gaze meets his own. “Especially, if because I, more than most people, am aware of what it looks like when someone attempts to hold back an entire tsunami of emotions.”

Sucking on his teeth, Mu Qingfang struggles to keep the anger from his face. Struggles to keep the rage inside where it belongs, where it can’t hurt anyone. His stomach churns, feeling like it’s an acid filled volcano ready to blow.

Across the table, Yue Qingyuan keeps talking, but Mu Qingfang can’t understand him any longer. His voice drones on, while Mu Qingfang clenches his teeth and digs his fingers even more forcefully into his palms.

Sure, sure, he thinks bitterly, task me with the impossible and then act shocked when I get angry about it. The middle of his chest burns and all of the sudden Mu Qingfang’s throat is closing up and he can’t breathe.

He turns his attention inward, trying to find out what the fuck is happening. Chest pain, check, not radiating to his arm or jaw, no ripping in the middle of his back, so probably not a dissection. Possibly an MI.

Shen Yuan thinks, Oh shit, I might actually die again.

“Mu Shidi!” Yue Qingyuan shouts and then several things happen all at once.

Shen Yuan, quietly suffocating, abruptly coughs and a truly gigantic mass of warmth comes up which he manages to spit out into his hands. (Can’t get phlegm all over the table, he thinks)

Yue Shixiong rises so fast the cushion goes tumbling. He ignites an emergency talisman, which sets off the corresponding talisman in Shen Yuan’s sleeve.

The door to Yue Qingyuan’s house blows off the hinges while Shen Yuan stares stupidly at the carnage. He looks down into his hands where-what the fuck?!--he’s apparently coughed up a huge clot of blood.

That’s really red, he thinks, blinking rapidly. Wow, it’s so bright it might be arterial. Oh, shit, did he dissect something after all?

Yue Shixiong sets off another talisman and then forms the message array in hand, speaking softly into it and then sending it off in a blaze of light.

Voices swim around him and then blessed, blessed qi flows into his wrist. Cool and refreshing like a breeze on the hottest Summers’ day. Shen Yuan blinks and finds himself nose to nose with Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Qingqiu is kneeling on the ground, fingertips on Shen Yuan’s wrist while he transfuses qi. “A-Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu says urgently. “Don’t you dare leave me, do you hear? Don’t you dare."

Shen Yuan wants to ask what’s wrong, he doesn’t know what’s happening. Something must show on his face because Shen Qingqiu says, “You’re having a qi deviation.”

Oh, okay. Yeah. He kind of forgot about the xianxia thing for a minute there.

Shen Qingqiu snaps, “What happened?” His qi is steady, and delicate. A tiny river washing away at the blockage in his chest.

From far away he hears Yue Qingyuan talking, but can’t make out his words. Shen Yuan’s entire existence has focused down to the warm hand holding his wrist and the flow of qi.

“A-Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu says. “After you’re well again we will speak of this. A doctor-”

Time passes, but whether minutes or hours, Shen Yuan can’t tell. He closes his eyes, and then someone says, “Shizun, what did you do?”

Wu Yanshin and Xie Yanmei have arrived. Wu Yanshin takes over transfusing qi and Xie Yanmei lays a hand over Shen Yuan’s chest for a deep scan.

“Good…girls…” Shen Yuan says.

Yanshin says clearly, “Shut up, Renshu. Yanmei? How is he?”

Xie Yanmei’s brow furrows deeply. The line between her brows is quite unusual. “He’s got multiple blockages…Give me a moment, I think I can clear some of it.” She closes her eyes, concentrating.

“Breathe, Renshu,” Wu Yanshin says, and Shen Yuan doesn’t know if she’s talking to him.

“A-Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu says, his soft voice easily heard in the quiet of the room. “Breathe, A-Yuan. Slowly, yes, good, just like that.”

Shen Yuan opens his eyes in time to see Yanshin giving Shen Qingqiu an approving expression.
“A-Jiu,” he whispers. A flash of heat across his chest, and all at once, Shen Yuan takes a deep breath.

And then coughs up another great clot of blood.

“Shit, okay,” Wu Yanshi says tersely. “Yanmei, put him out. We need to get him to Qian Cao.”

“Keep breathing,” Shen Qingqiu says in Shen Yuan’s ear. “You promised not to leave me, A-Yuan. I insist you keep your word.”

“A-Jiu,” Shen Yuan says again, and then the world fades away.

*

The next time Mu Qingfang wakes, he’s in a patient bed in the Healing Pavilion. He feels fine. Normal even! He knows he can call out and a healer will come check on him immediately. But before any of that happens, he needs to figure out why he freaking qi deviated!

Shifting in bed, he sits up a bit, rubbing his eyes.

“Ah, good, you’re awake,” Xie Yanmei says, entering the room with Shen Qingqiu at her heels.

Shen Qingqiu comes right to the bedside and picks up Mu Qingfang’s hand. “How do you feel?” His voice is steady, but his hand is shaking. Mu Qingfang curls his fingers into Shen Qingqiu’s.

“Better,” he says hoarsely. “Yanmei, thank you for coming so quickly.”

For some reason she exchanges a glance with Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu nods. “Shizun,” Xie Yanmei says. “What name would you like us to call you?”

“What?” Mu Qingfang can’t help it. It’s literally the last question he was expecting.

“You- when you deviated…” Her dark eyes meet his own. “You didn’t answer to ‘Renshu’. You only responded when Shen Shibo called you Yuan.”

Is it weird that he feels the color drain from his face?

“A-Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu says, “They. It doesn’t matter, you’re not in trouble.” His warm fingers squeeze Mu Qingfang’s. “They just need to be able to call you something that you’ll respond to instinctively.”

“Oh,” Mu Qingfang says. “All right…for these purposes…” He flickers his gaze to Shen Qingqiu’s face for a moment, and then back to Xie Yanmei. “Yuan…is good.”

Notes:

MQF: has been a ball of anger and anxiety for two chapters

YQY: Shall we talk about our FEELINGS?

SY: *side eye* I think the fuck NOT *spews blood everywhere*

 

Poor MQF!! In times of crises he reverts to his baseline personality. In this case, he forgot about the possibility of deviating at all!

Actually, I didn't realize just how much I jammed into this chapter!! YAY!!

Please tell me what you think! I must know!

Chapter 9

Summary:

Chapter warnings: hard conversations, sexy times!

Shen Qingqiu throws up a privacy array, and both Mu Qingfang and Xie Yanmei blink in surprise.

“Shibo?” Xie Yanmei says, eyebrows raised.

“Healer Xie,” Shen Qingqiu says seriously, “For the purposes of this conversation it is necessary.”

Alarm races through Mu Qingfang and he jolts in the bed. “A-Jiu-” he says warningly.

“No, A-Yuan.” Shen Qingqiu says firmly. “I have allowed this farce to go on for too long.”

Eyes widening, Mu Qingfang freezes in place. His heart feels like it’s stopped.

“Breathe!” Xie Yanmei snaps, and Mu Qingfang struggles to do so while his body locks up.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Shen Qingqiu says grimly. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.” He turns his attention to Xie Yanmei. “Mu Renshu, the man who was a disciple with us, he ascended several years back. He was a martial god, cursed with mortality. When he ascended, he called another soul to fill the role of ‘Mu Qingfang’.” Shen Qingqiu ignores Mu Qingfang’s panicking and brings his hand to his lips where he presses a kiss. “This is Shen Yuan, who has been the Peak Lord of Qian Cao peak for..five or six years, now.”

“Yanmei,” Mu Qingfang says urgently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lie to you for so long, I was just-”

“Terrified,” Shen Qingqiu says flatly. “That someone would find out, and banish you from the Sect. Away from all your friends and family and strays.” He rubs his free hand over his face for a moment. “So you see,” he says to Xie Yanmei, “That when severely stressed, he forgets who he is now, and where he is.”

Shen Qingqiu squeezes his hand, and Mu Qingfang makes himself breathe. He swallows anxiously, peeking at Xie Yanmei to see if she hates him.

“Shiz-” Yanmei’s voice cuts off. Then she inhales slowly. “Shen Yuan,” she says, like she’s tasting the words. “How is your chest feeling right now?” Her cool fingers press against Mu Qingfang’s free wrist.

Frowning a little, Mu Qingfang thinks about it. “Better,” he says in surprise, and Shen Qingqiu exhales heavily. “Yanmei…do you…I’m-”

The healer purses her lips. “Shizun…Shen Yuan has done so much good since he’s been with us. Saved so many people. Taken care of more. Had his heart broken and rebuilt with the patients he has cared for, the connections he made in this sect.” She meets his eyes. “Shen Yuan-Shizun is still my Shizun. And, I hope, my friend.”

Mu Qingfang’s throat tightens and his eyes sting. “Yanmei,” he says hoarsely, then can’t say anything else.

“A-Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu says. “If you’ve taught me nothing else it’s this: You have to be honest with your Healer. Healer Xie will keep your confidence.” He meets her eyes and his expression softens a bit. “As she has kept mine for many years.”

“This Shen Yuan will be in your care then, Yanmei,” Mu Qingfang says, suddenly exhausted.

“Sleep.” Xie Yanmei says gently, transfusing qi. “It’s good for you.”

“I will be here when you wake up,” Shen Qingqiu says. He squeezes Mu Qingfang’s fingers.

*

True to his word, when Mu Qingfang wakes, the room is darkened and Shen Qingqiu is meditating in the chair next to the bed. Mu Qingfang loses several moments drinking him in: the river of silken black hair. The dark winging eyebrows and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. His pointy chin and angled jawline.

Mu Qingfang really can’t help sighing dreamily. Shen Qingqiu really is beautiful. And not only that but he’s…he’s here. Whenever Mu Qingfang has been at his lowest…Shen Qingqiu has showed up. Held his hand, comforted him, tried his best to keep Mu Qingfang safe.

“I adore you,” Mu Qingfang says softly. “Fuck, I just…I fucking love you.”

Naturally Shen Qingqiu opens his eyes. Then he smiles, showing off his dimples. “I love you, too, Yuan-er,” he says simply. He offers his hand, and Mu Qingfang takes it gladly.

He sleeps.

*

Shen Qingqiu is still there the next time Mu Qingfang wakes. It looks like morning, judging from the light on the paper window shades.

“How are you feeling?” Shen Qingqiu asks, brushing some hair away from Mu Qingfang’s eyes.

Mu Qingfang considers the question. His meridians feel normal, no blockages…He can take a deep breath without any difficulty…. He smiles. “Much better.”

Visibly relieved, Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders relax.

“Thanks for staying with me,” Mu Qingfang says.

“Well, I certainly wasn’t about to leave you alone,” Shen Qingqiu informs him. “I have already chased off several visitors. Oh, not any of your strays. Qi-ge has been lurking around.”

Mu Qingfang starts guiltily. “I’m pretty sure he thought he was helping.”

“He always does,” Shen Qingqiu agrees. “Shang Shidi stopped by, as well as my disciple.”

Brightening, Mu Qingfang says, “Binghe was here?”

Rolling his eyes, Shen Qingqiu says, “Yes, of course that brat showed up. Halfway to uniting the demon realm but he still has time to visit his favorite martial uncle.”

“A-Jiu, that sounds like you’re upset he didn’t come to visit you.” Mu Qingfang teases, and true to form, Shen Qingqiu starts sputtering. “Besides, he probably asked Shang Qinghua’s ice demon to use a portal for him.”

Shen Qingqiu sniffs judgmentally. “Perhaps. That demon didn’t look strong enough to spar Liu Shidi let alone open portals all over creation.”

“Qinghua told me they got betrothed,” Mu Qingfang enjoys the look of surprise on Shen Qingqiu’s face.

“So quickly,” Shen Qingqiu says. “Well, I should have expected it. Every other word out of his mouth is ‘My King!’” Shen Qingqiu does the voice as well as the startled expression Shang Qinghua frequently wears and the effect is hilarious.

Mu Qingfang starts giggling and then is unable to stop. “My KING!” He cackles like a madman while Shen Qingqiu watches indulgently.

“What are you two doing in here?” Xie Yanmei says, opening the door. “I could hear you laughing in the hallway.” She looks pleased instead of stern.

Still snickering a little, Mu Qingfang tries to get it together. “Sorry, Yanmei, but A-Jiu was being really funny.”

“A-Yuan is being ridiculous,” Shen Qingqiu informs Xie Yanmei.

Her warm brown eyes look approving. “It’s good for him.” Once Mu Qingfang has calmed down, she says, “Shen Yuan, may I run a scan?”

“Sure,” Mu Qingfang says, holding out a hand. Her qi is flawlessly cool and refreshing, and he senses the way it soothes the inflamed meridians around his chest. “Oh, that’s much better.”

“The blockage is nearly gone,” she confirms with a pleased smile. “Now comes the hard part.”

Shen Qingqiu’s brow furrows. “And that is?”

Xie Yanmei looks serious. “These things don’t just come out of nowhere. Shen Yuan, have you noticed feeling more stressed than usual lately?”

Mu Qingfang snorts. “You could say that.” He thinks about trying to figure out a way to treat Yue Qingyuan’s sword issue without killing the man (permanently), or destroying his cultivation. That’s really the most pressing issue.

He glances over at Shen Qingqiu who meets his eyes. Thankfully, Mu Qingfang feels much more reassured about the stability of their relationship and his fears about Shen Qingqiu blaming him in the event something went wrong with Yue Qingyuan now seem…unfounded.

“You know, now that I think about it, I wonder if I’ve been teetering on the edge of a deviation for a while.” Mu Qingfang remarks.

After a moment, Shen Qingqiu says, “It’s much easier to see in retrospect.” Yes, he would definitely know! “Healer Xie, what is the treatment plan to prevent another deviation.”

Wryly, Xie Yanmei says, “Nothing too unfamiliar, Peak Lord Shen. Calming tea at least twice a day. Rest for a week.” She fixes Mu Qingfang with her eyes. “Nothing more strenuous than puttering in your garden. No clinics. No patients. No projects, and yes, I will definitely tell the Sect Leader-”

“No, need,” Shen Qingqiu says. “I will handle him.”

Mu Qingfang and Xie Yanmei exchange a glance that clearly says they’re both happy to NOT be Yue Qingyuan right now.

“Perfect,” she says crisply. “In that case, I will release you into Peak Lord Shen’s care."

Mu Qingfang accepts his restrictions meekly this time, and lets Shen Qingqiu fly him back to Qing Jing peak.

Happily, there’s a package wrapped up on the porch of the bamboo house. There’s a note with familiar calligraphy.

Shen Qingqiu huffs, and stoops to pick it up. “Well, your little beast left you a gift.”

Mu Qingfang follows him into the house, practically dancing on his feet with glee. Shen Qingqiu produces one of the many knives he carries at all times, and deftly cuts the twine around it.

“Water chestnut cakes!” Mu Qingfang exclaims. “Ah! He’s such a good boy!” He meets Shen Qingqiu’s eyes.

“Mn,” Shen Qingqiu agrees. “I’m not sure if he’s still on the Peaks or if he returned to the demon realm.

Quickly snatching up a cake, Mu Qingfang takes a bite and then closes his eyes, humming. When he opens them, he finds Shen Qingqiu looking at him intently. Deliberately, Mu Qingfang meets Shen Qingqiu’s eyes, and then licks his fingers. “It’s so good, A-Jiu.”

Shen Qingqiu takes a step closer, and then another.

Squeaking in alarm, Mu Qingfang stuffs the piece of cake into his mouth, and then swallows it whole. Shen Qingqiu smiles broadly, making his eyes light up. Then he sweeps Mu Qingfang up into his arms, swinging him around in a circle.

Carrying him to the bedroom, Shen Qingqiu says, “Yuan-er surely knows the best treatment for qi deviations?” His mouth is so close, yet too far away. He lays Mu Qingfang on the bed carefully.

It feels like forever since they’ve been intimate. “Yes, Jiu-ge, please.”

Shen Qingqiu takes him apart slowly, removing each piece of clothing carefully. Once Mu Qingfang’s skin is bare, Shen Qingqiu kisses him languidly, body half covering him. Oh, Mu Qingfang could kiss him forever! The world falls away until all thoughts empty out of his head. He can only feel, while Jiu-ge runs his hands over Mu Qingfang’s chest and arms, kissing the side of his neck and nibbling the sensitive spot under his ear.

Ever since that first time, when Mu Qingfang was poisoned, Shen Qingqiu hates to rush through things, no matter how Mu Qingfang begs. Jiu-ge preps him slowly, carefully stretching him with slick fingers. Dark green eyes meet his own, as Jiu-ge unerringly stimulates his prostate, making Mu Qingfang throw his head back while he rolls his hips.

His cock is hard and leaking against his stomach, untouched for now. Mu Qingfang doesn’t bother trying to touch himself. When Jiu-ge is like this, he’s supposed to wait and accept what he’s given. There will be no rushing until Jiu-ge damned well feels like it!

Shen Qingqiu fingers him for what seems like forever, bringing him to the edge of release and then withdrawing. He soothes Mu Qingfang by running his hands up and down his body, grounding him in the moment until he calms enough to keep going.

It’s only when he starts begging for real that Shen Qingqiu relents and presses slowly inside. Desperately, Mu Qingfang clutches Jiu-ge’s shoulders and back, and wraps his legs around his waist.

Naturally, Shen Qingqiu begins kissing him again, and the drugging effect of his lips and tongue really ought to be bottled up! Shen Qingqiu starts channeling qi through their connection and Mu Qingfang feels every single cell in his body light up.

His own qi responds eagerly, entwining with Shen Qingqiu’s and forming a circuit with their spiritual energies. Like this, a partner could easily destroy someone’s cultivation. Mu Qingfang is vulnerable, but he doesn’t feel any fear at all. There’s nothing to fear with Jiu-ge.

“A-Yuan, my Yuan-er,” Shen Qingqiu says tenderly, rocking his hips. “Stay with me, don’t-”

“I won’t,” Shen Yuan says, cupping Shen Qingqiu’s face. “I won’t, Yuan-er is here.”

The coiling pleasure has his body tense and straining, reaching for the heights, fuck, he’s so close-

“Jiu-ge, please, I need… can you?” Mu Qingfang moans desperately. “Touch me, please...”

Shen Qingqiu shifts their bodies, slipping a hand between them, wrapping it around Mu Qingfang’s cock. It takes only a few slick strokes, and he’s coming hard, lights flashing behind his closed eyelids. Shen Qingqiu’s hips piston for a few strokes before stuttering into one last filthy grind.

A river of qi fills his meridians, and Mu Qingfang cycles it back through to Shen Qingqiu. “My A-Jiu,” he sighs, utterly sated, feeling like he’s floating.

Shen Qingqiu rolls them to the other side of the bed, bodies still entwined. A gentle hand pushes hair away from Mu Qingfang’s face, tucking the long strands behind his ear. “A-Yuan,” he breathes. He buries his face into Mu Qingfang’s neck and doesn’t let go for a long time.

*

 

The next day, Mu Qingfang is pleasantly surprised when Luo Binghe shows up for a visit. Shen Qingqiu lets the boy in without a word, while Mu Qingfang exclaims happily from the table, where he was nursing a cup of tea and reading a novel.

“Binghe! You’re still here!” Mu Qingfang greets, smiling.

Luo Binghe keeps getting taller everytime he sees him! His eyes are black today, and his demon mark a muted red. “Mu Shishu, it’s good to see you awake and about. This disciple was worried about you.”

Shen Qingqiu calls from the kitchen, “Yes, A-Yuan is so popular.” He sounds anything but happy about it, and Mu Qingfang grins.

“Sit, Binghe. Tell me, how are things going? I understand you’re spending some time with Mobei Jun at the Ice Palace?”

Once he’s settled on the cushion, Luo Binghe says, “Yes. Shang Shishu was especially kind to introduce me around. Mobei Jun ascended to the rightful King of the North, but of course he’s still recovering from his ordeal.”

Having heard from Shen Qingqiu all about the eating-a-still-beating-heart thing, Mu Qingfang decides to hurry past that part. “Have you cooked for them at all?” He thinks this should be an innocuous question. But from the way that Binghe frowns…Mu Qingfang hides his smile.

Luo Binghe sighs heavily. “Mobei Jun insisted I teach him how to make hand pulled noodles for Shang Shishu.”

Shen Qingqiu snorts. “Of course he did.” He brings back the fresh teapot. Binghe starts to reach for it, and gets swatted with a fan for his trouble. The Qing Jing peak lord proceeds to pour for them all, although by rights the youngest ought to be doing it.

Meekly, Binghe drinks his tea. “Thanking Shizun. Delicious, of course.”

It will never not be funny that Shen Qingqiu can still intimidate the Protagonist, Mu Qingfang thinks. “Well, how did they turn out?”

Groaning, Luo Binghe tilts his head back for a moment. Then he fixes his eyes on Mu Qingfang’s. “Shishu, do you know how hard it is to roll out dough when you have claws? The dough kept getting under Mobei Jun’s claws, and then tearing. It took so long, just to get the dough to stay together…Anyway, we redid it several times, and although the results were not perfect, Shang Shishu seemed pleased enough with them.”

“Such a good boy,” Mu Qingfang praises, reaching across to pat Binghe on the head.

Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes, but says nothing.

“Liu Shishu is out on a night hunt,” Luo Binghe says, expression falling. “Conquering isn’t as much fun without him.” His lips twist in something like a pout.

Crisply, Shen Qingqiu says, “Good, then you have time to practice your weiqi skills against this master.”

“Shizun!” Binghe cries, with a betrayed expression.

“I’ll get the board and stones,” Mu Qingfang grins. RIP to poor Binghe’s ego. He’s seen A-Jiu destroy most of the other peak lords at weiqi. Indeed, before ascending to the Qing Jing peak lord, Shen Qingqiu had to beat his own Shizun, a Master of strategy.

While he retrieves it from Shen Qingqiu’s office, he hears Shen Qingqiu say in a lecturing voice, “Luo Binghe, you should be thanking me, not complaining! How do you expect to rule the demon realm if you can’t even beat your Shizun? I weep for what associating Liu Shidi has done to your brain.”

“Hey!” Binghe exclaims. “He’s not stupid!”

“Did I say that he was? The way he rushes into things without thought or care-”

Hastily, Mu Qingfang brings the items back to the front room, interrupting the argument before it really gathers steam. “Here you go.” Fortunately, his presence makes the other two men settle down into grumbling acceptance.

Shen Qingqiu’s strategy is ruthless, sacrificing some of his own stones now to set an inexorable trap for Binghe.

Luo Binghe frowns deeply at the board and responds with a strategy which is…odd, to say the least. Mu Qingfang has no idea what’s happening. Binghe seems to be trying to dodge Shen Qingqiu instead of engaging directly whenever he can.

Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes and responds by fortifying his defenses for a few rounds before hammering Binghe mercilessly.

“Greed fails,” Binghe says while staring intently down at the board. “Do not rush in.”

Uh, what?

Glaring now, A-Jiu says, “Drop small, save big. Fight back, bow not.”

“Shizun, should take his own advice. Also, this disciple has read the Ten Golden rules.”

Okay! Clearly this is going to take awhile and Mu Qingfang is bored to death. “I’m going to walk over to Qian Cao to check on the gardens.”

Shen Qingqiu raises his eyes, meeting Mu Qingfang’s. “A-Yuan. Remember your restrictions. Would you like me to have a disciple fly you there?”

That’s very sweet Jiu-ge, but Mu Qingfang’s not an invalid! Demurring, he says, “I’d rather walk.” He smiles. “The body is designed to move and bad things happen when it doesn’t.” Besides, he’s wasting away with this enforced idleness.

Feeling more optimistic than he has in a while, he leaves them to their game, and heads back to his peak.

Notes:

SQQ: What is the treatment for Qi deviations again?

XYM: ...

XYM: We live in a stallion novel WHAT DO YOU THINK?!?!?!?!

MQF: Calming tea, clearly!

 

This chapter fought me so hard! Every day I'd write a paragraph or two, a sentence here and there, just chipping away. Ah, this gloomy weather in the US has me fucked up.

Please leave a comment and tell me what you think! :)

Chapter 10

Summary:

Chapter warnings: Shen Qingqiu has like a millions conversations with people LOL

Also FLUFF

Once Shen Yuan leaves the house, Shen Qingqiu straightens up, fixing Luo Binghe with a stern look. “Little Beast, tell me what’s going on around the peaks while I have been occupied.”

Sitting back, Luo Binghe says, “Well, as you know after you threw Yue Shibo out of Mu Shishu’s room, Shang Shishu went to Wan Jian peak to talk with Wei Shishu. Shang Shishu went back to An Ding peak and has been working on some theories.”

Shen Qingqiu taps his fan lightly against his lips. While he’s happy enough that Qi-ge wants to free himself from his sword, he can’t help wishing that he put it off a little longer. He certainly never expected Shen Yuan to qi deviate as a result of the stress!

And just what exactly did Yue Qingyuan say to Shen Yuan to push him over the edge like that?

“Shang Shishu sent Liu Qingge out on a mission to find some special artifacts that would help in case anything goes wrong.” Binghe looks very put out about this. Shen Qingqiu has no sympathy in the least. “Shang Shishu had two or three things for Qingge to collect.” Frowning, he adds, “This disciple is not sure how long it should take, but Qingge knows speed is preferred.”

“Finally, a use for that oversized sword of his.” Shen Qingqiu says, daring his disciple to say something.

“Shizun.” Luo Binghe says warningly. Then his face changes to something suspiciously pleasant. “I would hate to say no to Mu Shishu the next time he becomes ill and needs something sweet to eat.”

His disciple has finally learned how to play dirty. Good, Shen Qingqiu thinks. Finally. He inclines his head silently: an acknowledgement.

Binghe glances at the board and then back at Shen Qingqiu. “Did you even want to play?”

Snorting, Shen Qingqiu says, “No. But Shen Yuan tends to hide after something traumatic happens, when what he needs is to get out of the house and go visit his…strays.”

That makes Luo Binghe smile. “He’s good at picking them up.”

Shen Qingqiu eyes his disciple, one of Shen Yuan’s earlier strays. The corners of his lips tilt. “Yes,” he agrees simply. “Little Beast, go check on your disciple-siblings. If you’re sticking around for awhile, you’d better do some work.”

“Yes, Shizun,” Luo Binghe says, rising. He bows and then leaves.

Shen Qingqiu puts the stones back into their bag, and puts the board away. He makes a quick pass through his bedroom, making sure his hair is perfect and his crown is straight. He sets his jaw and leaves the house.

He strides with purpose across Qing Jing peak, and then over the Rainbow bridge. He heads directly to Yue Qingyuan’s office. He doesn’t knock, nor does he stop to chat with the disciple sitting outside the sect leader’s office.

“You can’t just go in there, Shen Shishu-”

“Watch me,” Shen Qingqiu snaps, and sails through the door.

Yue Qingyuan raises his head, unstartled. His cultivation, of course, is good enough that he heard Shen Qingqiu coming, as well as the ruckus from his disciple. “Didi,” he greets, smiling warmly.

Shen Qingqiu slams himself into the chair opposite Yue Qingyuan’s desk a-la Liu Qingge. “Qi-ge,” he says silkily. “Tell me- what exactly did you and Mu Shidi discuss, before he had a qi deviation.” He folds his arms over his chest.

Yue Qingyuan opens his mouth and then closes it again. He holds his palms open. “I-I asked him if he was angry with me, and if he’d like to clear the air.”

Clenching his jaw, Shen Qingqiu grinds his teeth together. In the state A-Yuan was in, that question was like pouring oil onto a fire. Just asking for an explosion to happen.

“Didi, it…it hasn’t escaped my notice that Mu Shidi has-” Yue Qingyuan’s eyebrows furrow. “Appeared to be struggling of late. I wanted to reassure him that this venture with my sword was not merely a whim but something I have long been considering.”

“And what, exactly, did Mu Shidi say he was angry about?” Shen Qingqiu thinks about Shen Yuan asking, ‘If I failed, would you hate me? Would you even be able to look at me?’ He doesn’t need the sect leader to tell him.

He knows very well what Shen Yuan was upset about.

“He’s already running himself ragged, Qi-ge,” Shen Qingqiu says eventually, since Yue Qingyuan keeps his lips tightly shut. “I wish-” Can he really say that he wishes Qi-ge would have waited a few more months to deal with Xuan Su?

Shen Qingqiu knows that while events from the Conference are in the past, many of the wounds have not fully healed. Shen Yuan sometimes discusses his work, topics like wound care. So he knows that some wounds heal over on the surface while leaving a deep crater of nastiness underneath.

And to heal, fully heal, the crater must be evacuated and the wound allowed to close from the bottom up. Like Shang Shidi, Shen Yuan has wounds which are still in the process of healing.

The way he worries that Shen Qingqiu might change his mind, and decide that being with Shen Yuan isn’t worth the trouble. The way he wakes up from nightmares, clutching Shen Qingqiu, frantically pumping qi into a wound that has long been healed.

The way he thought that Shen Qingqiu would just abandon the love of his life, if something went wrong with Qi-ge’s treatment.

He really, really has been trying not to fume about that. But it hurt, that even now, Shen Yuan still seemed to feel like Shen Qingqiu was the one who wasn’t taking their relationship seriously.

It’s not Shen Qingqiu avoiding the marriage topic any time it comes up. He’s not the one that keeps making excuses not to meet with the fortune teller. If he could go back in time, Shen Qingqiu would punch himself in the face for his decision to enter seclusion and not tell Shen Yuan about it.

It set off a shockwave in their relationship that in some ways…Shen Yuan is still recovering from.

“Didi?” Qi-ge prods carefully. “Are you all right?”

Is he? Shen Qingqiu wonders. His own nightmares haven’t changed. He dreams of fire and blood and pain, even now after all these years. He dreams of cold winter nights searching for shelter. He dreams of slowly starving to death.

He does not however, have nightmares about Linguang Jun beating him nearly to death.

“I’m…working on it,” Shen Qingqiu says finally.

“Didi…” Yue Qingyuan looks troubled. “I did say to Mu Shidi that he shouldn’t hold back so much-”

Shen Qingqiu closes his eyes, exhaling heavily.

“Do you really think that…that I caused…”

Opening his eyes, Shen Qingqiu meets Yue Qingyuan’s gaze. “I think that Mu Shidi’s stress builds up, and like an avalanche, starts with something small before half the mountain is destroyed. No, Qi-ge, I believe there were many factors. But he has been struggling to find a treatment for you.”

“I have complete faith in Mu Shidi.” Yue Qingyuan hurries to say, and yes Qi-ge, this is part of the problem!

Of course you have faith in Mu Shidi! He’s already managed the impossible several times over! The problem is that Shen Yuan’s faith in himself has been shaken. And his lover is very much aware that without the intervention of a martial god, they all might have died at the conference.

“Well, at any rate, Mu Shidi is on vacation for the next week,” Shen Qingqiu informs the sect leader. “So make sure to contact Healer Xie or Healer Wu if you need something.” He frowns. “Mu Shidi was walking over to his peak to check on his garden, but I believe I’ll find him on An Ding peak.”

“They have become close, haven’t they?” Qi-ge observes. “I don’t recall them associating very much when we were all disciples.”

That’s probably because the former Mu Qingfang was a very distant person, Shen Qingqiu thinks, unlike Shen Yuan who enjoys sticking his nose into everyone’s business. “Quite. It’s good for him to have others besides me to count on.”

Nodding, Yue Qingyuan says, “Very wise, Didi. It’s been a beneficial association for Shang Shidi as well.”

That brings up another point, Shen Qingqiu realizes. “Have you heard anything from the Northern Demon King? I understand Mobei Jun and Shang Shidi have become betrothed.”

Sighing, Yue Qingyuan says, “Yes, I received a message from Lord Mobei Jun of his intent to marry Shang Qinghua. I expect betrothal gifts to be sent any time.” He leans forward, looking intently at Shen Qingqiu. “And what of your disciple, young Luo Binghe?” Yue Qingyuan smiles slyly. It’s a look full of mirth, and Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes.

“Every time I turn around I get a complaint of him and Liu Shidi being shameless somewhere on the twelve peaks. Last time it was on Xian Shu peak when we returned from our mission. I have no doubt that even now there is a letter on my desk requiring me to scold my Heavenly Demon disciple.” After a moment, Shen Qingqiu adds, “I’d like to know what exactly they imagine I could do to the boy to make him behave now? Clearly, they’ve never actually met my little beast.”

“Well, Liu Shidi seems happy enough,” Yue Qingyuan says mildly.

Shen Qingqiu huffs but makes no response. Unfortunately, the discovery of Shen Yuan’s true age has really put a damper on any fussing he might make about the age difference between Liu Shidi and his disciple. It’s quite annoying. Shen Qingqiu may be many things, but he’s not a hypocrite. “I suppose.” He says eventually.

“Have you thought about what the other Sects will say if Shang Shidi marries his demon?” Yue Qingyuan asks.

Shen Qingqiu considers this. “Huan Hua will be the most troublesome, although…” His brow furrows.

“What is it?”

“Something that happened while I was in the Ice Palace. Shang Shidi said that Luo Binghe’s parents are Tianlang-Jun and Su Xiyan.”

Yue Qingyuan sits up straight. “Their head disciple? The one that the Old Palace Master claimed was taken and killed by Tianlang Jun?”

“The very same,” Shen Qingqiu says grimly. “It appears that the Palace Master got wind of the romance, and held Su Xiyan in the Water Prison. When it was obvious the girl was pregnant, he poisoned her and set her free to return to her lover. Apparently Su Xiyan absorbed the poison and prevented it from harming the child.”

Yue Qingyuan’s qi flexes, and abruptly Shen Qingqiu recalls that Shen Yuan isn’t the only one with qi-issues.

Yue Qingyuan laughs sharply, slapping a hand down on his desk, making a crack that echoes throughout the room. “It was all for nothing,” he says. “He lied to us….got my Master killed.” His eyes meet Shen Qingqiu’s. “I trapped an innocent man under a mountain...and it was all based on lies.”

“Qi-ge,” Shen Qingqiu says firmly. “Get yourself together before you deviate. Circulate your qi. Breathe.” He watches while Qi-ge forces himself to take a deep breath, then releases it slowly. “Better. Again.”

After a few minutes, Yue Qingyuan’s unstable qi settles. He rubs a hand over his face. “Apologies, Didi.” Then he smiles. “Mu Shidi has taught you well.”

Snapping open a fan, Shen Qingqiu waves his, partially blocking his face. He circulates his qi, forestalling the incoming blush. This is nothing to be embarrassed about! It’s just that sometimes he remembers how gentle and kind Shen Yuan was when he first treated Shen Qingqiu’s own qi deviation all those years ago. And that makes him think about the warm wax treatments that Shen Yuan used to use for Shen Qingqiu’s hands. He was so convinced that Mu Shidi was trying to seduce him.

It’s extremely funny, if only because Shen Qingqiu had teased Shen Yuan about it once, and sent the other man into a sputtering blushing mess.

Delightful! Ah, good times.

Shen Qingqiu leaves shortly after, ignoring the disciple glaring at him from outside Qi-ge’s office. Don’t want to be steamrolled? Grow a backbone then, he thinks uncharitably. Once outside, he checks the sun. Hmm. He spent more time than he thought with the sect leader. He mounts his sword and flies to Qian Cao peak.

He does not go to Shen Yuan’s home, heading instead to the Healing Pavilion. The disciple in the lobby asks immediately, “Shen Shibo-is Shizun all right? Do you need something?”

The boy looks worried, so Shen Qingqiu reassures him. “Peak Lord Mu is in good health. This Lord was wondering if Healer Xie had a moment?”

The disciple’s shoulders drop and he exhales in relief. “Thanking Shibo. This disciple will return shortly.” He gets up and disappears in the hallway. Several minutes later he returns with Healer Xie in tow.

“Peak Lord Shen,” she greets. “Would you like to speak in my office?”
“Thank you, yes,” Shen Qingqiu answers, following her down one hallway, and around a corner. It’s not far from Shen Yuan’s office, actually, and he’s probably walked right past it many times.

Xie Yanmei closes the door behind them and a privacy array flares to life with a low background hum. She has lots of plants, and a large window on one side with a view of the interior courtyard’s garden.

The Feng Shui is superb there, Shen Qingqiu knows, and the plants and trees have all been carefully cultivated. The stone benches are set out so that a patient walking could take frequent breaks, and here and there thick hedges provide some privacy. Behind the walkway and benches sits a pond with a fountain feature, the array glimmering gold under the water’s surface. The sound of the running water is quite soothing.

Today, Xie Yanmei has the window open, allowing for fresh air. The sounds of the fountain give her office a peaceful feeling. Xie Yanmei does not sit behind her desk, but at one of the chairs in the corner. There’s a small table between the two chairs.

On the walls she has a representation of the body’s meridian systems. Here and there are small notes and arrows, and Shen Qingqiu understands. This was a study reference she created, and when complete kept it as a display.

“Would Peak Lord Shen care for tea?” She inquires and Shen Qingqiu inclines his head. She lights a talisman and within seconds a disciple brings in a tea service and sets it down on the little table.

Once everyone has been served and sipped politely, Xie Yanmei gives him an expectant expression. “Now. How can I help you, Peak Lord Shen ?”

Now that he’s actually here, Shen Qingqiu feels…more tongue tied than expected. He clears his throat. After double checking the privacy array is in place, he says, “I am worried about Shen Yuan. He has been working on a project for the sect leader and-” He purses his lips. “He has been very concerned, overly concerned, in my opinion about the possibility of failure.”

Xie Yanmei doesn’t make any particular expression at all, just listens intently, holding eye contact. Shen Qingqiu remembers when she used to do this to him all the time, back when he was a disciple. She doesn’t worry about filling silences, but allows the tension to build, until-

“I think he’s worried about disappointing me, more than anything else,” Shen Qingqiu says finally, when he can’t take it anymore. “He’s afraid that…if something goes wrong, that I would be unable to forgive him.” He breaks the eye contact, looking down at his hands, before forcing himself to meet her gaze again. “He’s been having nightmares, where he wakes up and tries to heal my wounds from the Conference.”

Xie Yanmei’s eye’s flick down to his chest, then back to his eyes. “Where you were pierced by an ice spear, correct?”

Nodding, Shen Qingqiu says bleakly, “Yes. And partially encased in ice. That’s when Mu Qing- the man you knew as Mu Renshu- descended, and took A-Yuan as a vessel, healing myself, Shang Shidi, Liu Shidi and Luo Binghe.”

Tapping her fingers on her tea cup, Xie Yanmei says slowly, “From what you say, Shiz-Shen Yuan has been under significant stress, and is concerned about the stability of your relationship. If you don’t mind me commenting on personal matters.”

“If I minded, I wouldn’t be here,” Shen Qingqiu says shortly.

“Just so,” She agrees, unfazed. “Peak Lord Shen. Thank you for taking me into your confidence. It seems clear that Shen Yuan has some degree of trauma from the Conference. This is no shame. In the medical field we have seen colleagues become traumatized from repeated exposures to the atrocities that come with treating the sick and dying. There is a …helplessness…in witnessing someone die because they didn’t reach us in time, or were unaware how to seek help. Generally, what we do for these Healers is to give them time away from treating patients to recover inner peace. To reset their equilibrium, if you will.”

To Shen Qingqiu’s surprise, she smiles widely. “Shen Yuan-Shizun cares so much. He would give everything and yet ask for so very little in return.”

Shen Qingqiu shifts in his seat. “What can I do? I don’t know how to fix this,” he says in frustration.

“Wounds like this are not fixed,” she says, stressing the word. “They are treated. Let him know that you would listen, and if he talks to you about it -Peak Lord Shen this part is particularly important-do not offer suggestions on how to ‘fix’ any of the things he brings up. Just…be present.” She smiles wryly. “We call this ‘therapeutic listening’.”

“I…see.” Shen Qingqiu replies stiffly. “What else?”

Xie Yanmei says, “Skin to skin contact. The more the better. Humans are creatures that need touch. Babies that aren’t touched enough-”

“Fail to thrive,” Shen Qingqiu says. “Yes, Shen Yuan has informed me.” He smiles a little wryly.

“Besides that,” she continues, “Be free with physical affection, hugs in particular. It makes people feel safe and relaxed.”

 

*

Shen Qingqiun returns to the bamboo house where, sure enough, he has not one, not two but three written complaints about Luo Binghe and Liu Shidi. He doesn’t bother to sit down, but just leafs through them.

 

Peak Lord Shen,

Your disciple, Luo Binghe was found with Peak Lord Liu recently on Qian Cao peak. They were behaving quite inappropriately and unfortunately seen by several young disciples. This Master trusts that Peak Lord Shen will handle the situation.

Hallmaster Chen

Rolling his eyes at the other two--An Ding peak, he can understand, but what in the world were they doing on Ku Xing peak?!?!

Just as Shen Qingqiu is beginning to wonder when Shen Yuan will return, the door opens and familiar footsteps sound on the bamboo planks. “I’m back here,” Shen Qingqiu calls.

Shen Yuan greets him with a smile. He’s a little windblown, probably from flying. He holds up a hand. “Before you say anything, Qinghua brought me back.” He pushes some loose strands of hair away from his face, self consciously.

“Welcome home,” Shen Qingqiu says, moving forward, and wrapping his arms around the other man. He holds him snugly, and Shen Yuan melts into his arms, sighing, and pressing his cheek against Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder.

“This is nice,” Shen Yuan says, sounding shyly happy. He snakes his arms around Shen Qingqiu’s waist and holds on. He lets out a deep breath and doesn’t move.

“I love you,” Shen Qingqiu tells him. It’s still hard, he finds, to blurt out his feelings like this. But A-Yuan needs words, and he deserves to know.

“I don’t know what brought this on, but…I really like it,” Shen Yuan confesses.

“Me too,” Shen Qingqiu tells him, meaning it. “Can I hold you for a while? Just like this?”

Shen Yuan presses his lips against Shen Qingqiu’s throat, and tucks himself into his body. “Yes. Let’s stay like this for a little while.”

Notes:

Qian Cao Peak Hallmaster: LBH and LQG keep making out on my peak!

SQQ: Pfft

Ku Xing Peak Lord: LBH and LQG keep making out on my peak!

SQQ: *baffled* Why THERE?!?!

An Ding Peak Hallmaster: LBH and LQG keep making out on my peak!

SQQ: Okay, THERE I understand!

 

I'm really happy with how this turned out! Come tell me what you think! :)

Chapter 11

Summary:

CW for description of burns and medical stuff

Mu Qingfang isn’t sure what triggered Shen Qingqiu’s bout of unexpected cuddliness, but he’s not complaining! He quickly discovers that he loves being greeted with hugs. Seriously, he thought that they were doing fine before but now---has he still been low-key touch starved while in a relationship?

He’s been sleeping better, and he thinks that Shen Qingqiu has been, too. Once Shen Qingqiu leveled up his physical affection game, Mu Qingfang’s been a lot freer with his own affection. And like, he honestly didn’t realize how much he was holding back. In a way, he thinks, it’s what he thought the early stages of dating would be like in the other world.

And he really loves the way that Shen Qingqiu’s green eyes get so warm when their gaze locks.

In short, Mu Qingfang feels like he finally has permission to touch Shen Qingqiu properly-running his hands through his hair, stroking his cheeks with his fingers, pressing his lips against any skin he finds. Last night he spent at least half an hour just drinking in Shen Qingqiu’s face while they laid so close together and chatted before bed. His fingers traced over Shen Qingqiu’s lips, the angle of his jaw…fuck. “You’re so beautiful,” he’d blurted, and then Shen Qinqqiu gave him one of those rare wide smiles, showing off his dimples and the way his face lights up.

If Shen Qingqiu ever changes his mind about - well, everything…Mu Qingfang’s definitely going to be lost.

Desolate, he does not think.

Anyway! He shoves that particular intrusive thought to the back of his mind. Repress! Repress! Besides, he tells himself. He could always…make an appointment with the fortune teller. Mu Qingfang knows that Shen Qingqiu has mentioned getting married more than once recently. Mu Qingfang could always just put a ring on it, couldn’t he?

Very privately, Shen Yuan has complicated feelings about getting married without his parents and family being there. He’d always thought he might marry some faceless girl someday. He’d always thought his Mother would look so happy that her youngest son was finally sorted! Er-ge would tease him relentlessly, and Da-ge would be a solid presence during the lead up to the wedding.

And Mei-Mei…of course she would be thrilled and dying to help with the planning and celebration.

Mu Qingfang can’t imagine the rest of his life without Shen Qingqiu by his side. He just can’t. He wants to see him dressed in red wedding finery, smiling at him while they bow together in front of their close friends and martial family.

The more he thinks about it…yes. To be able to call Shen Qingqiu husband....

Yes.

 

*

 

It’s been a lovely week hanging out with Shen Qingqiu, and visiting with his friends. He spends an entire afternoon listening to Shang Qinghua gush about Mobei Jun. Mu Qingfang decides that having some wine won’t interfere with his goal of relaxation so accepts when Shang Qinghua brings out the jars from Zui Xian.

Apparently Mobei Jun continues to recover from his long imprisonment, but is getting stronger daily! Shang Qinghua radiates happiness while he talks about his betrothed, breaking into pleased smiles when he plays with the jewels in his hair.

Shang Qinghua also tells Mu Qingfang what exactly he’d sent Liu Qingge after. Naturally, it’s something so ridiculously named that he can’t help scoffing.

“Airplane!” Mu Qingfang cries, appalled. “The fruit of the Glowing Webbed Spirit Tree?!? What kind of Deus ex Machina bullshit is that?!” He empties his cup and pours himself another slug.

Grinning like a madman, Shang Qinghua’s eyes scrunch up into crescents. “Hey! You should be thanking me, Cucumber bro, because my little ‘Deus ex Machina’ is going to save Yue-ge, in case he has another bad deviation.” Leaning forward, Qinghua says smugly, “You’re. Welcome. Besides, it’s not like it’s just anywhere for any rando to find! It’s in a secret realm!”

Sourly, Mu Qingfang argues, “Yeah, sending Liu Qingge to a secret realm where he has to find one special plant and avoid all the Protagonist Level sex plants that just happen to be nearby, right?”

“Well, Liu Shidi always comes back sex pollened from missions, Bro, you know that,” Shang Qinghua protests.

Mu Qingfang snorts. “I do know that! Except now it’s not just him working out the pollen by beating up his disciples. Which honestly, should not even be possible. Like, it’s not a thing, so-ANYWAY! Liu Qingge has a Binghe now, and do you know how much of a pain in the ass they are together?”

Rolling his eyes, Shang Qinghua says slowly, “Absolutely I do. You know Binghe comes back to get ‘counsel’ or whatever from Mobei Jun, right? Well, he brings his boy toy with him, and holy fuck, I had to give the servants a bunch of pre-charged privacy talismans because-” His brow furrows for a moment. “Did I somehow give one of them a voyeurism kink? What was wrong with me?”

“So many things,” Mu Qingfang says dryly, and they both break up laughing.

 

*

 

Near the end of the week, Mu Qingfang is walking across Bai Zhan peak, on his way to Qian Cao when two cultivators drop out of the sky, landing heavily not far from his location. The ground actually shakes when they hit it, just out of sight on the other side of the low hill he’d been ascending. Mu Qingfang-who had been daydreaming about the way Shen Qingqiu kissed him goodbye this morning-is badly startled. He finds himself with his sword in hand ready for an attack that doesn’t come.

It leaves him jittery and annoyed, so he stomps up the hill, ready to scold some disciples. Instead he finds two grown men wrestling on the ground. They’re both covered with dirt, hair falling out of crowns. When he gets closer, Mu Qingfang finds that…

What the fuck?! Mu Qingfang thinks. “Hey! The two of you, break it up right now!” It’s his Serious Shizun voice, so he’s not surprised when the two men whip their heads around in unison.

Once the hair parts enough to reveal faces, Mu Qingfang blanches. Of course, of fucking course!

Liu Qingge’s face goes immediately pink and he shoves Luo Binghe off his body. The War God leaps to his feet, hastily fixing his hair which had fallen halfway out of its normally high ponytail. Darkening love bites are visible on his neck. “Mu Shidi. What. Um. What are you doing here?”

Eyes widening in disbelief, Mu Qingfang says incredulously, “Trying to walk across your peak in peace.”

“Ah. Shishu, hello,” Luo Binghe says, getting to his feet. He smiles brightly, brushing his thick curls back from his face. “Qingge just returned from retrieving the artifacts Shang Shishu wanted. I was just-” He gives Liu Qingge a quick look. “Just, ah, welcoming him home.”

Mu Qingfang snickers in spite of himself. The notes from other peaks bitching about these two dopes keep piling up. Maybe he should write one himself! “Perhaps Luo Shizhi and Liu Shixiong should welcome each other behind closed doors, and not say, behind someone’s house, or in the middle of a public walkway. Just a thought,” he adds bitchily.

“Wait, Mu Shidi,” Liu Qingge calls after Mu Qingfang starts walking again. He turns, eyebrows raised. Liu Qingge frowns. “I heard you had a qi deviation. Are you better now?”

“Much better,” he says, meaning it. “Thank you for asking. Shen Qingqiu has been keeping a watchful eye on me.”

“I bet he has,” Luo Binghe mutters, and Liu Qingge grins.

It’s…Mu Qingfang doesn’t think he’s ever seen Liu Qingge smile like that before. Luo Binghe is just watching his lover, a sappy expression on his face. “I’m going to forget I saw either one of you,” he says, waving a hand in the air. “Binghe, Shen Shixiong is getting a whole bunch of complaints from the other peak lords about the two of you. Please try to be a bit more circumspect?”

“Who was it?” Liu Qingge demands. “If it was Qi Shimei-”

“Thanking Mu Shishu,” Luo Binghe says hurriedly, and tugs Liu Qingge away in the opposite direction.

Bemused, Mu Qingfang resumes his walk to Qian Cao. After he crosses the bridge he stops by the Healing Pavilion to check on things. Cheng Delun is manning the lobby desk and greets him with a smile. He’s somehow grown since the last clinic they attended together! How do these children get so big?!?!

“Shizun! Is your vacation over? Do you feel rested?” He looks so eager that he may be vibrating in place.

Mu Qingfang chuckles and walks over to give the boy a head pat. “Yes, definitely. Your Shen Shibo has been taking good care of me.”

“Shen Shibo is also well?” Cheng Delun asks.

Smiling, Mu Qingfang thinks that Cheng Delun has never forgotten the kindness that Shen Qingqiu showed him when they found him in the streets a few years back. “He is very well, I will pass on your good wishes.”

“Thanking Shizun,” Cheng Delun says. “And welcome back. We’ve all missed you.”

Ah, his disciples are too sweet! He doles out another head pat and wanders back to Wu Yanshin’s office. He pokes his head in the open door, but she’s not around. Weird. He heads back up the hall. Xie Yanmei’s office door is closed and locked.

Okay, fine! Just where are his senior healers? Unless-

Stomach churning, Mu Qingfang walks quickly to the main wards. The two main hallways are shaped like an X with a central station in the middle. Annnnd, why is nobody there either? Seriously, what the fuck? If there is a major event happening, he would like to know!

He heads to the East hallway, and all at once he crosses the line of demarcation of a sound canceling talisman. Shouting fills his ears, someone’s crying out in pain, and people talking over each other.

Picking up speed into a brisk trot, Mu Qingfang follows his ears. At the end of the hallway, he finds the largest treatment room (really, it’s a trauma bay) filled with chaos. His nose fills with the scent of burned flesh.

Wu Yanshin and Xie Yanmei are working in tandem on a badly burned disciple, while two other Qian Cao healers are working on a second disciple across the room. Junior disciples scurry back and forth, fetching bandages and poultices and removing garbage and detritus as it accumulates. They’re basically gophers for the seniors right now.

“Report,” Mu Qingfang calls out, cleaning his hands quickly with a talisman and striding forward to help.

“Shizun,” Wu Yanshin exclaims in relief. “There was a forge accident on Wan Jian peak. One disciple was killed, several presented with burns over forty percent surface area, and Wei Shibo’s hands and arms are burned from where he pulled out the disciples.”

Oh, holy shit, Mu Qingfang thinks grimly. “Where is Wei Qingwei?”

Xie Yanmei glances up at him, then back down at her patient. The young man’s robes have been burned off his arms, and he has severe burns down his entire upper limbs. His hands are completely scorched, covered already with stiff black eschar, so Yanmei directs her qi through the patient’s temple. “Wei Shibo has thus far refused treatment until his disciples were seen to. He should be in the room next door. I insisted he take pain relief, which he finally agreed to.”

Wu Yanshin says, “This disciple-” she nods down at the young man she and Yanmei are helping- “Li Fengge was assisting Wen Shanyuan with an independent project. They were experimenting with additives to make the forge burn hotter, except-”

“It blew up,” Xie Yanmei takes over smoothly, while Yanshin furrows her brows and adjusts the flow of her qi. “Which shattered the sword they were working on. Wen Shangyuan took more flack damage, and Li Fengge took the brunt of the coals.”

In another lifetime, Mu Qingfang might have thought the kid with all the sword fragments would be the one worse off. But here in Xianxia land, it was relatively simple to remove them with qi, the same exact way he’d remove a splinter. In comparison, burns were much, much trickier, requiring attention to electrolytes, fluid shifts, hypotension, pain of course, and infection. If this young man survives, he will have a long road ahead filled with multiple surgeries and physical therapy.

“Can I do anything to help you?” Mu Qingfang asks finally. He has complete faith in these two women, but it’s always good to check!

“We’ve got this Shizun,” Xie Yanmei says, without looking at him. “If you could see to Wei Shibo, that would be helpful.”

*

 

Wei Qingwei normally has a presence that fills any room he’s in. But when Mu Qingfang enters the room the sword smith is parked in, his first thought is that Wei Shixiong doesn’t look anything like his normal self.

He looks…small.

His face is covered with soot marks, and there’s a deep gouge across his right temple, slicing through his eyebrow on that side. Someone secured a bandage to his head and the gauze padding is already struck through with blood.

Wei Shixiong’s hands are both burned black from the fingertips to the forearms. Fortunately, he has an affinity for fire. Wei Qingwei’s eyes are closed and he’s cross legged on his bed, elbows resting on his knees while he circulates his qi. Mu Qingfang notes the way the black eschar- a hallmark of dead flesh- has cracked, and the tissue underneath glows a pure gold. Around the edges of the eschar, half way up his arms, the golden glow of qi seems to be…well, eating away at the eschar.

Mu Qingfang consults the download, frowning as he concentrates. Okay, he thinks. Mu Qing saw something like this back when he was a junior healer. The trick here is to let Wei Shixiong heal the skin himself. Mu Qingfang just needs to make sure that Wei Qingwei doesn’t deplete all his qi in the effort.

“Shixiong,” he murmurs. “Keep doing what you’re doing, I will transfer qi for you.” He directs his fingers to Wei Qingwei’s forehead and begins a steady trickle of spiritual energy. While he’s got access, Mu Qingfang runs a quick scan. He breathes a sigh of relief upon finding no significant damage to the man’s meridians.

After a sichen, Mu Qingfang withdraws his energy and assesses his patient. The black eschar has retreated to just above Wei Qingwei’s wrists. The new skin on his forearms is thin and pale peach colored.

“Well? What do you think?” Wei Qingwei says, making Mu Qingfang jump. He opens his eyes, meeting Mu Qingfang’s. “The way you were sighing I was starting to worry.”

“You’ll live,” Mu Qingfang tells him. “Though if you didn’t have such an affinity for fire, we’d be having a different conversation. Continue circulating your qi, and you will regain full use of your hands.” He purses his lips then adds, “You’ll need to keep the skin oiled and protected for a few weeks at minimum. It will be thin and fragile, prone to tearing.”

Wei Qingwei snorts at the fussing. “Don’t worry, Shidi. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. I knew I’d be able to regrow the skin, that’s why I didn’t stop to put on dragonhide gloves in the first place.

Mu Qingfang gives him a long unimpressed look. Sourly, he adds, “Maybe keep a pair close by, next time, hmm? If you had lost consciousness you might have actually lost both hands!”

Unphased, Wei Qingwei waves a blackened stump of a hand at him. “Go away, Shidi, and fuss at my boys next door.”

“We’re talking about this again,” Mu Qingfang warns him. He ignores the unrepentant expression he gets in return and then leaves.

Unsurprisingly, Wu Yanshin scolds him to leave. He just got here! But fine! Mu Qingfang supposes he can go back to Qing Jing peak and enjoy the last couple days of vacation. Soon enough he’ll have to deal with Yue Shixiong and his cursed sword, Airplane’s betrothal and, oh! That reminds him of something.

Back on Qing Jing peak, Mu Qingfang lets himself into the bamboo house. “A-Jiu?” He calls.

“Back here,” Shen Qingqiu answers, his voice floating through the house.

Mu Qingfang follows the sound to Shen Qingqiu’s office. He comes to the doorway, and leans against the frame, taking in the way a few long black hairs have escaped Shen Qingqiu’s crown to fall over his shoulder.

He stares at the groove between his lover’s eyebrows, the tension in his shoulders as he inks characters onto paper.

Shen Qingqiu is entirely aware of him silently watching, Mu Qingfang knows. He smiles, glad to be able to unashamedly look his fill. “I adore you,” Shen Yuan blurts, and Shen Qingqiu’s lips curve.

“A-Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu says warmly. His eyes curve into crescents as he smiles, and Mu Qingfang’s heart can’t take this.

Pushing off the doorframe where he’s been leaning, Mu Qingfang walks around Shen Qingqiu’s desk while the other man watches curiously. Mu Qingfang grins, he can’t help it. His chest feels like it’s filled with bright bubbles lifting his mood impossibly high. He looks into Shen Qinbgqiu’s eyes, and sees the rest of his life, their lives stretching out together, filled with laughter, and music, companionship-snuggling under a warm blanket, waking to A-Jiu grumbling in the mornings, making love and talking about everything in two worlds.

Slowly, Mu Qingfang sinks down onto his knees. He reaches out and takes Shen Qingqiu’s hand. “A-Jiu. A-Jiu, Let’s spend the rest of our lives together.” He meets wide green eyes. “Marry me. Let’s invite everyone we’ve ever met, bow in front of them and then have a grand party. After that, we can go on a honeymoon, just you and I.” He stares into Shen Qingqiu’s green eyes, cherishing the stunned expression on the other man’s face. “Say yes, A-Jiu.”

Shen Qingqiu swallows, then moistens his lips. “Yes,” he says hoarsely. An arm whips out, and he captures Mu Qingfang round the waist, dragging him up into Shen Qingqiu’s lap. He kisses Mu Qingfang thoroughly, and after losing a chunk of time, finally comes up for air. He cups Mu Qingfang’s face, and leans in slowly kissing both of Mu Qingfang’s eyelids, then the tip of his nose, and finally his lips once more. “Yes,” Shen Qingqiu breathes. “Yes.”

Notes:

I KNOW some of you thought I forgot about this story!!!! I didn't!! I just was super blocked on it! Life has been crazy busy since I spear headed JiuYuan week back in June, and I haven't done any writing whatsoever until yesterday.

I'll try to be better about updating--Hope people are still enjoying!!

SQQ: Clearly SY has forgotten that I asked him to marry me several chapters ago

SY: * on vacation, enjoying every MOMENT he spends with SQQ* "Lets get married? Pretty pretty please?" * BID DOE EYES

SQQ: **ASDFHJLLLK!!!**** "FUCK YES"

Chapter 12

Summary:

CW: panic attack, flashbacks, general PTSD things

The following morning, Mu Qingfang wakes to the sound of Shen Qingqiu muttering under his breath in the front room. From the amount of light coming in, it’s still pretty early, and Mu Qingfang drags himself out of bed with effort. He doesn’t bother to put his hair up, and grabs one of A-Jiu’s robes to drape over his shoulder.

He finds Shen Qingqiu at the table in the front room drinking tea. In between sips, he keeps huffing in annoyance, and Mu Qingfang grins. He calls, “What’s wrong? How did you get this annoyed already today?” He comes up behind Shen Qingqiu, laying a hand on his shoulder and leaning down to kiss his cheek.

“This was waiting for me when I got up,” Shen Qingqiu says, and holds up a letter.

Mu Qingfang scans it quickly, and snorts. “How much trouble is Binghe in, do you think?”

Tilting his head up to peer at Mu Qingfang, Shen Qingqiu says, “Qi-ge knows how annoyed I am about this. And then those two idiots decide to mess around on Qiong Ding peak, of all peaks?” He snorts, disgusted. “Perhaps Liu Qingge will finally get a punishment that makes them think twice.” Tossing the paper back onto the table, Shen Qingqiu says, “Don’t just hover-sit.”

He’s sitting! Mu Qingfang obediently sinks down onto the cushion next to Shen Qingqiu and watches his lover pour tea for him. “Thank you,” he says, meaning it. “Your tea is the best.”

Shen Qingqiu arches an eyebrow skeptically, but looks pleased. After a moment he says, “What are your plans today?”

Mu Qingfang thinks about it. Then he grins. “Honestly? I want to find Shang Qinghua.”

“What’s that look on your face, A-Yuan?” Shen Qingqiu demands, narrowing his eyes.

Quickly holding up both hands, Mu Qingfang defends himself. “Hey! It’s only that Shang Qinghua used to tease me, back before we settled everything you know? I’d see him, and he'd say stuff like, ‘Is the marriage back on?’ wherever I’d treat him. It drove me crazy at the time, but I kind of miss seeing him all the time.”

Shen Qingqiu sighs. “That sounds exactly like something that little rat might say.”

“He’s a good little hamster,” Mu Qingfang protests.

“Hmm,” Shen Qingqiu says judgmentally. “Well, go see him on An Ding peak. I have to see Qi-ge to make sure he actually gives Liu Qingge and my beast of a disciple a suitable punishment. Perhaps helping Ling You peak shovel manure for an entire week might put them off a little.”

Mu Qingfang makes a face. Why does he imagine that Luo Binghe will find some excuse to remove his outer robes? Or toss Liu Qingge into one of the many creeks. It;s a slippery slope from there to ‘let’s get you out of those wet clothes’ territory.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.” Shen Qingqiu tells him. “You should be thinking about me not them.” The corner of his lip twitches, and then he smiles briefly, flashing those dimples.

Leaning forward, Mu Qingfang steals a kiss, surprising a squeak from Shen Qingqiu. “Always,” he says.

After breakfast, Mu Qingfang flies over to An Ding. There’s no answer at Shang Qinghua’s residence, so he walks next door to the man’s freestanding office. This time when he knocks, he hears a crash, followed by a muffled curse.

Mu Qingfang grins, and pounds on the door some more. He hears the stomping footsteps approaching and then the door jerks open.

“What!?” Shang Qinghua hisses, looking like he’s just pulled an all nighter with a hangover. He squints against the bright morning light. “Cucumber? That you?”

“Yeah. Airplane, why do you look like overturned shit?” Mu Qingfang pushes right past the other man and once the door is shut, finds his Airplane’s wrist for a scan. “Bro! You are so fucking dehydrated right now, what the hell?”

“Just-ugh.” Shang Qinghua pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck. I’ve had a migraine for like two days straight. My head is killing me, and whenever I think about eating something I start dry heaving.”

Mu Qingfang narrows his eyes. “Might you be pregnant?”

“Shut. The FUCK. Up!” Airplane starts walking off, and Mu Qingfang grabs his shoulder.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I was just joking, come on.” Mu Qingfang tells him seriously. Shang Qinghua huffs out a sigh, but stops pulling. “Come sit down, be a good Shixiong, and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

Airplane grumbles something unintelligible and slumps into one of the hard backed chairs at the table. Mu Qingfang leaves him there and goes to the little kitchen to prepare tea. Fortunately, Mu Qingfang has learned to always carry willow bark tea and a small vial of honey in his sleeves. It’s the next best thing to ibuprofen in Xianxia land, although if this doesn’t help his headache, Mu Qingfang’s pretty sure a little acupuncture would take care of it.

He knows this. He knows Shang Qinghua knows this. So why…

“How come you didn’t call for me?” Mu Qingfang demands, bringing back the steeped tea. He pours it into the ceramic mugs, which-judging by how much they appear to be modern mugs- he must have commissioned from one of his disciples. It’s a relief to slump into a chair that’s relatively normal, for once.

Shang Qinghua’s mug says, “World's Best Peak Lord”. Mu Qingfang chose a nice bland mug painted with Haitang flowers.

“You were busy,” Shang Qinghua says with a wince. He closes his eyes and takes a sip of tea. “Is it me, or is this less gross than usual?”

“I added honey.” Mu Qingfang informs him. He leans forward. “How’s Mobei Jun?”

In spite of the migraine, a smile flickers over Shang Qinghua’s face. “Getting better every day! Haven’t seen him for a few days, I think he’s hunting up some special things for the official betrothal.”

“Speaking of betrothals…” Mu Qingfang trails off deliberately.

Eyes flying open, Airplane stares at him. “It’s happening?? Finally?! Bro!!!!”

“I know!!!” Mu Qingfang says happily. “Nothing’s planned yet, but--yeah. We’re gonna get married!”

After finishing his willow bark tea, Airplane looks a bit better. “Huh. Okay, yeah, maybe I could eat.”

So he pulls out a talisman and sends a disciple for some food, Mu Qingfang chiming in to make sure it’s something light and easy on the stomach. Airplane gives him a scathing expression.

“Fuck that, bro, I want something substantial, you know? A man needs meat.”

“That’s what he said,” Mu Qingfang retorts, deadpan, and Shang Qinghua laughs. He makes Airplane drink another cup of tea while they’re waiting and before he knows it, two disciples enter after a brief knock.

They set two large bowls of noodles down, and then a bunch of things to share. Steamed vegetables, braised beef, some kind of whitefish and on a separate platter there are two small cups of frozen melon.

While they eat, Shang Qinghua talks about the changes Mobei Jun is making in his territory. Shang Qinghua has free reign to implement all sorts of infrastructure there that Cang Qiong would never agree to.

Identification tokens, for one thing. Jade tokens infused with Mobei Jun’s energy must be presented in order to gain access to different parts of the Ice Palace. Shang Qinghua goes on for some time about how he’d tried to breach the subject once a few years back as a matter of security and gotten completely shut down by Liu Qingge.

“He was insulted, can you believe that?” Shang Qinghua demands. “All up in his feelings about how no one needed to worry about the security of the sect while he was around and I was like, Dude! The whole fucking point is that you’re not around!” His brown eyes meet Mu Qingfang’s. “It was when the other Mu Shidi was driving, so, you know, water under bridges and whatever.”

Mu Qingfang listens while Shang Qinghua goes on to discuss the plans he has to update the temperature control in the Ice Palace. It’s only when Shang Qinghua mentions a project he’s going to bring to Wei Qingwei, that Mu Qingfang inhales.

“It may be awhile before Wei Shixiong is able to do any metalwork,” Mu Qingfang says. “There was a forge accident the other day.”

Shang Qinghua gives him a long stare. “Cucumber, that was yesterday.” Then he grins bright and wide, eyes full of mischief. “Did Shen Shixiong dick you down so good you forgot about time existing?”

Mu Qingfang screeches in outrage and flicks qi over the table at his friend. Cackling, Shang Qinghua bats it away easily.

“Truth hurts, bro!” He wipes tears away from the corners of his eyes. “Seriously though-” Shang Qinghua stops, and tilts his head to the side, like he hears something Mu Qingfang’s ears don’t.

The air hums and then chills, shadows coalesce into a portal and then the current King of the Northern wastes steps through.

It’s Mobei Jun, the real one. Mu Qingfang knows this. So why does he scrabble backwards in a panic, toppling his chair? Terror fills his chest, and his heart races.

“Oh, shit, My King, can you go grab Shen Shixiong for us? Fuck!” Shang Qinghua’s voice comes from far away.

The world narrows down to a black tunnel, and all Mu Qingfang hears is the sound of his own breath, rapid and shallow. He kicks his feet, moving backward until his back hits something solid. His fingers start tingling and spots dance in front of his eyes.

For long moments he’s back at the Conference, trying frantically to save Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu while Liu Qingge is trapped by an ice spear.

Sound disappears and his ears ring.

And for ten seconds there’s nothing but

S I L E N C E.

Then there’s warm hands on his arms and the fierce cry, “BREATHE!”

Mu Qingfang takes a shuddering breath through airways that feel way too tight.

The hands squeeze. “A-Yuan, you have to keep breathing, you promised me, you said we’d get married, now take another breath. Slowly!”

Sound leaks back into the world and then Mu Qingfang’s vision fills with green. Green robes, green ribbon over one shoulder, and green, green eyes.

“...A-Jiu?” Mu Qingfang breathes, and moisture collects at the corners of Shen Qingqiu’s eyes.

“A-Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu replies, cupping one hand on Mu Qingfang’s face. Intently he maintains eye contact. “Don’t try to talk, just breathe. You can’t…” His voice breaks. “You can’t just not breathe.”

Mu Qingfang swallows over the lump in his throat. “Breathing is good,” he croaks. “I make all my patients do it.”

Shen Qingqiu laughs, but it sounds forced. Now that Mu Qingfang has stopped panicking (!!) he sees that Shang Qinghua basically tried to shove Mobei Jun behind the bookshelves, except he’s so tall that the demon’s entire chest and head is above it and he’s peering right back at Mu Qingfang.

Shang Qinghua sees where Mu Qingfang’s eyeline is locked, and he squeaks in alarm. “Hey, hey. That’s my Mobei Jun! I promise he won’t hurt you!”

Shen Qingqiu twists around to glare at Shang Qinghua. “It never occurred to you to have the thing that was frightening him leave?”

Glaring, Shang Qinghua says, “My King is not a thing!”

“Qinghua,” Mobei Jun says, straightening his back and stepping out from behind the shelf. He takes slow steps over to where Shang Qinghua is hovering anxiously. He lays a large hand on Shang Qinghua’s shoulder. “This Lord understands.” He meets Mu Qingfang’s eyes. “You saved Shang Qinghua’s life when this Lord could not. For that, you will always be a friend of the North, and welcome at the Ice Palace. Know this, Mu Qingfang: You will never again come to harm from any ice demon of the North.”

“I know,” Mu Qingfang says hoarsely. “I know that you are not your Uncle. I just…” He forces the words out. “Panicked. Uh, sorry about that.”

Shen Qingqiu snorts. “Perhaps Lord Mobei Jun would be so kind as to open a portal to Qian Cao peak, for Peak Lord Mu?”

Unimpressed, Mobei Jun ignores Shen Qingqiu, instead looking to Shang Qinghua who hastily nods.

“Yes, please, My King, that’s awesome.” The An Ding peak lord wrings his hands and leans against Mobei Jun while the portal opens.

“Can you stand, oh, nevermind,” Shen Qingqiu says, and then scoops up Mu Qingfang without waiting for permission, which hot, but also embarrassing! “Hold on to me,” he orders, and once Mu Qingfang wraps an arm around his shoulders, they step through directly into the lobby of the Healing Pavilion where a bunch of disciples and healers watch warily.

“Qingfang!” Xia Yanmei cries in alarm. “Peak Lord Shen, what’s happened? Come this way, both of you.”

“I can talk,” Mu Qingfang protests. “And walk, probably.”

Ignoring him, Shen Qingqiu looks around at the gathered crowd. “Stand down. The portal was made by Shang Shidi’s betrothed to expedite Peak Lord Mu’s care.” He walks off without another word, following Xia Yanmei down the corridor to the back hallway.

Feeling horribly embarrassed, Mu Qingfang clears his throat. “Sorry to make such a fuss. I’m really fine now. I just had a bad few minutes.”

Shen Qingqiu freezes, his arms tightening before he consciously relaxes them. Is he grinding his teeth? Mu Qingfang thinks he’s grinding his teeth. Deliberately, Shen Qingqiu takes a deep breath, and then another. “Stop talking, A-Yuan.” He lays Mu Qingfang down on the bed, and then presses a hand on Mu Qingfang’s chest to stop him from sitting up. “Just! Stay still, and let Healer Xie examine you.”

“Shen Yuan,” Xie Yanmei says, frowning down at him. Her eyes flicker to Shen Qingqiu’s face for a moment, before fixing back on Mu Qingfang. “Start from the beginning. What happened?”

Mu Qingfang bites at his lip. He feels really stupid, now. “Ah, well.” He shifts uncomfortably. His hands are clasped together and he picks at one of his cuticles. “I, um. Shang Qinghua’s betrothed opened a portal into his house while I was visiting him.”

Xie Yanmei, tilts her head. She crosses her arms over her chest and looks skeptical. Shen Qingqiu opens his mouth to interject and Yanmei shakes her head at him. “Let him tell it,” she encourages. “Shen Yuan, tell me exactly what happened after Shang Qinghua’s friend appeared.”

“He- well. I…” Mu Qingfang steals a quick glance at Shen Qingqiu who returns his gaze intently. Looking away, Mu Qingfang says, “I…might have thought he was going to try and kill us again.”

Going completely still, Xie Yanmei says, “Again?”

Wow, Mu Qingfang thinks. He really needs to deal with these hangnails! He kind of wishes manicures were a thing here. Maybe some cuticle oil?

“Shen Yuan.” She prods.

Distantly, Mu Qingfang says, “Yeah, so. He. Back at the Conference, it was -it turned out- a different ice demon that almost killed us. But. He had disguised himself to look like Shang Shixiong’s betrothed.” He shrugs a little, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “It’s stupid, right? Like, I don’t know why I freaked out.”

Next to him, Shen Qingqiu clenches his hands so tightly that Mu Qingfang wants to pry them apart. He worked pretty hard to get those hands back into shape!

Grimly, Xie Yanmei says, “Peak Lord Shen, have you anything to add?”

In a purposefully even tone, Shen Qingqiu says, “Shang Shidi’s demon opened a portal onto my peak. We’ve met before during his rescue. He dragged me through and tossed me at Mu Shidi to try and calm him down.” His eyes flick toward Mu Qingfang.

“He was panicking, having trouble breathing…at one point he actually stopped breathing for --” Shen Qingqiu stops, like he can’t continue.

Mu Qingfang can’t stop himself from raising his eyes. Shen Qingqiu, his A-Jiu, looks upset. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“You-” Shen Qingqiu closes his eyes and takes several breaths.

Diplomatically, Xie Yanmei says, “Wrist, please.” A quick sweep of qi is there and gone and then she lays his arms down on the bed, giving it a pat. “Shen Yuan, I just have one question for you?”

“Mn? What’s that?” Mu Qingfang says.

“Are you familiar with what happens sometimes after a person has been through something traumatic?” Xia Yanmei asks gently.

Frowning, Mu Qingfang says, “Of course.”

Smiling a little, Xie Yanmei says, “Remind this disciple of the common signs and symptoms to watch for afterwards.”

This is easy! “Mood swings, trouble sleeping, flashbacks, intrusive thoughts, nightmares, difficulty concentrating, anxiety. I could go on, but that’s enough don’t you think?”

“Yes, that’s a very good summary.” She meets his eyes. “A long time ago, one of my colleagues said it this way. Intense emotional or physical reactions when reminded of the events, including sweating, heart palpitations, anxiety or panic.”
Feeling called out, Mu Qingfang swallows and tries to smile. “Sounds like a smart person.”

“Yes,” Xie Yanmei says, giving him a meaningful look. “You are, usually.”

“Oh,” Shen Yuan says, sheepishly, while Shen Qingqiu pinches the bridge of his nose.

 

*

 

“It’s all right, My King,” Shang Qinghua says, curling up next to Mobei Jun, who has been pouting on his bed since Cucumber bro and Shen Shixiong left. His King has his arms crossed over his chest and naturally the front of his robes are gaping open, leaving lots of blue-tinted skin for him to look at and touch.

He really likes touching.

“I didn’t do anything to him,” Mobei Jun says, scowling. “I was trapped, myself.” He turns his head, giving Shang Qinghua a narrow eyed gaze.

Patting his chest, Shang Qinbghua says, “They all know that, My King! It’s just that your uncle had a really good disguise. It was-” He shudders. “Really fucking convincing, you know?”

The Ice Demon grumbles, and Shang Qinghua hides his face against his King’s thick arm, snaking one arm around the man’s waist. His King is still too thin, but he’s been gaining some much needed weight back.

When Luo Binghe and Liu Shidi visit the North, Binghe likes to cook and often makes enough for them all to share. It’s nice. It’s so different than what he wrote, back in another life. This is so much better!

“Oh!” Shang Qinghua exclaims. “Cucumber bro told me that he asked Shen Qingqiu to get married! Finally! You would not believe how long this has been coming.”

Mobei Jun shifts on the bed, angling his body toward Shang Qinghua. “I have gathered your betrothal gifts. This King was coming to tell you.”

Squealing happily, Shang Qinghua sits up, barely avoiding knocking Mobei Jun’s chin in the process. “Really?”

Huffing, Mobei Jun says gravely, “This King would not lie to Qinghua.”

Shang Qinghua rolls over and screams into his pillow. He kicks his feet, too, and he’s not even ashamed about it. After all this time, is he really going to get to marry his Dream Man?!?!

“Only if Qinghua accepts this King’s suit.” Mobei Jun says, and whoops, Shang Qinghua forgot about his King’s sensitive hearing.

Well, that’s easy, Shang Qinghua thinks. In the demonic tradition, all he has to do is be pleased with his King’s offerings. Once he accepts the gifts, they can get on with the business of finding auspicious dates for them. He would love to be married before Cucumber bro. Actually, Shang Qinghau might never live it down if he and Mobei Jun get married after the other two.

No, no, no, Shang Qinghua has to get married first. Oh shit, he realizes. Does he have to plan his own party?

Rumbling laughter interrupts his racing thoughts. A cool hand cups his face, tilting it up so he’s looking into Mobei Jun’s clear blue eyes. “There are people at the Palace to do this. Qinghua will relax and let others do the planning for once.”

Who gave Mobei Jun such pretty eyes? No one else in all of Proud Immortal Demon Way had eyes like his! Between the startling eyes contrasted with the inky black hair and the cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass, Shang Qinghua surely didn’t have the option not to fall in love with this man.

Shang Qinghua squeaks in surprise as Mobei Jun suddenly pulls him right up onto his chest! “My King!”

Mobei Jun gives him one of his rare smiles. “Qinghua may look his fill, but this King would do more than talk.”

“My Ki-” His words are muffled by the press of Mobei Jun’s lips, and Shang Qinghua’s mind goes quiet.

Much much later when Shang Qinghua is equal parts sated and sore, Mobei Jun curls his body around Shang Qinghua’s. “Soon,” the Demon Lord rumbles. “Soon, you will be my Queen.”

Notes:

MQF: Why is everyone giving me these looks? I'm *fine*

SQH: Um

MBJ: *frowns*

SQQ: *glares*

XYM: "I see I have to walk you through this"

Chapter 13

Summary:

You get an auspicious date and YOU get an auspicious date....

Mu Qingfang thinks that if he keeps having these… spells , that Shen Qingqiu’s not going to let him out of his sight for awhile. Xie Yanmei doesn’t keep him long, just plies him with calming tea and instructions to drink it three times a day for the next few days. Then, and only if he is feeling up to it, is he allowed to come back to work at the pavilion.

 

Shang Qinghua visits him at the house on Qing Jing peak two days later. Shen Qingqiu is back in his office working on paperwork. His only comment when Mu Qingfang informs him about the incoming visit is to snort. “At least he knows enough to call me when you’re in trouble,” Shen Qingqiu says. “Out. Go entertain Shang Shidi.”

 

Today, Shang Qinghua is bright cheeked and smiling. “We have a date!” He crows, sinking onto a cushion, while Mu Qingfang pours tea for them both. “After the new year, the third month, twenty first day.” He wiggles on his cushion.

 

“That’s great,” Mu Qingfang says, meaning every word. Then he frowns. “I need to get with the fortune teller for us, actually.” He grins at Shang Qinghua. “Wouldn’t it be funny if-”

 

“No! No, no! No way are you getting married before me!” Shang Qinghua says, using his fingers to tap the table for emphasis. “ I’m older, I have to get married first.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Mu Qingfang says, “Well A-Jiu outranks you, so if he wants to get married first-”

 

“Keep that up, and you’re not getting an invitation,” Shang Qinghua teases, then dodges the spark of qi that Mu Qingfang flicks at him. “Ah, ah! Be nice to Qinghua today, because Liu Shidi brought the Glowing Webbed Spirit Tree in, and let me tell you, he outdid himself! So if returning Xuan Su to the Hall of Swords doesn’t work out, we can use this to rebuild Yue Shixiong’s cultivation.”

 

“I don’t recall reading about this,” Mu Qingfang says suspiciously. 

 

“Listen, you have no idea the things that moldered in my drafts. You know how it is- well, actually you probably don’t ! When you’re a writer you have to write things down, like, immediately so you don’t forget them. I can’t tell you how many times I woke up on the floor and scrambled to put a note in my phone before I fell back asleep.”

 

Mu Qingfang is not about to ask questions about why Shang Qinghua was sleeping on the floor. He definitely does not want to know. He takes a sip of tea and arches an eyebrow impatiently.

 

“Right, okay,” Shang Qinghua continues. “So the Glowing Webbed Spirit Tree has these roots which are very similar to meridians. And it only grows in areas that have high concentrations of spiritual qi, much like the Ling Xi caves.” He sits up straight. “Hey, maybe we should take a cutting or something and plant some there.”

 

“Airplane,” Mu Qingfang prods.

 

“Okay! So-you have to promise you won’t make fun, because this will seriously fix the problem-”

 

“Just tell me, Airplane!” Mu Qingfang demands.

 

“You lay it over the patient’s bare skin, the root system I mean, and then you infuse qi over top of it? And then-” Shang Qinghua waves his hands. “Then it like, absorbs or something? I don’t know exactly, I just know it will work, because this world has a lot of shit from my drafts, or even stuff that was like a half thought idea -”

 

“I’ve noticed,” Mu Qingfang says, dryly. He ignores Shang Qinghua’s squawk of outrage and brings his cup to his mouth. After he sets it down he says, “Okay. We kind of have a plan, and a backup plan. This is a good thing.”

 

“Bro, you trying to convince me or yourself?” Shang Qinghua drawls.

 

“I know, I know,” Mu Qingfang sighs. “I need to focus on success.” He shakes his head, looking away. The conversation settles for a few moments, both men lost in their thoughts.

 

“How short a leash does Shen Shixiong have you on, right now?” Shang Qinghua wants to know. “Because if you need to take your mind off, you know, everything , I have an idea.”

 

Mu Qingfang sits up straight. “You do?”

 

*

Wei Lai Peak happens to be one of the few peaks that Mu Qingfang has never visited. It kind of makes sense, he thinks on the flight over there. Given that the peak is filled with fortune tellers. Real ones, not like the scam artists back home that lured people in with vague predictions and then steal a bunch of money. Oh, no. These fortune tellers are either blessed with god given clairvoyance or have the potential to develop skill at divining. The most powerful are some mix of both.

 

The peak lord, Xu Qingyi, had been in closed door cultivation for the past five years, and thus Mu Qingfang has never met her. Truth to tell, he’s more than a little anxious about it. What if she gives him right up? He mentions this to Shang Qinghua and the other man just scoffs.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” he calls through the wind. “I promise you, she’s cool .”

 

“That doesn’t fill me with confidence, Airplane!” Mu Qingfang retorts.

 

They land in the middle of an intricately laid out garden. Mu Qingfang is no array specialist, but Shang Qinghua is , and he oohs and aahs over the layout.

 

“Cucumber-bro, you’re not from here, so you don’t appreciate the artistry of this!” Shang Qinghua scolds good naturedly. “Look, see how the plants are laid out? If you pay attention when we leave, look down. From above, you can see that the plantings form the backbone of a very strong security array.” Shang Qinghua looks proud as he takes it all in, and Mu Qingfang has to admit, it’s good worldbuilding.

 

Sensing that Shang Qinghua wants to keep gushing about it, he says, “Why does this peak need such strong security?”

 

Shang Qinghua stops dead in his tracks, glaring at Mu Qingfang. “ Bro . We have the strongest and most powerful fortune tellers out of all the sects! People would kill for the kind of information they have access to. They have killed, in fact.” 

 

“Hence the array,” Mu Qingfang says. They follow a manicured walkway made from crushed stone. It’s lined with short flowering plants that have a pleasing, sweet scent. The flowers are yellow, stripped with black. Wait. Are these? “Honey Bee Good plants? I thought they were extinct?”

 

The Lord of An Ding peak, and onetime author god smiles. His brown eyes gleam with pride. “They are,” Shang Qinghua says smugly. “Everywhere except here . The bees that pollinate these plants-”

 

“Develop sentience,” Mu Qingfang breathes. “The bees are part of the security system? That’s fucking awesome .”

 

Shang Qinghua claps him on the shoulder. “Right?” He sighs happily. “Not everything I wrote was shitty, you know.”

 

Mu Qingfang thinks of Shen Qingqiu. Thinks of how much he’s suffered, how much he’s grown. He thinks of Binghe, sans side quest into the Abyss and thriving both in the demon realm and with his relationship with Liu Qingge. He thinks of his healer friends, of Wei Shixiong, and of all the super cool shit that made him fall in love with PIDW in the first place. 

 

It’s a lot of unexpected emotion all at once, and Mu Qingfang’s throat tightens. “Yeah,” he manages around the lump. “Airplane…you did pretty great.” He hastily clears his throat. “So, uh. How do we tell Xu Shimei that we’re here to see her?”

 

Shang Qinghua laughs. “We don’t .” He stops walking, catching Mu Qingfang’s sleeve and tugging him to a halt, too.

 

“Airplane?” Mu Qingfang asks. “What’s up?”

 

Someone chuckles nearby, and then a voice thickened with age calls, “Visitors! Come see Auntie! Just to your left.”

 

Shang Qinghua grins. “Come on, Mu Shidi.” He tugs on Mu Qingfang’s sleeve again, and together they walk a few steps to the left. Everything shimmers, the world feels like it turns upside down, and then Mu Qingfang is abruptly standing in someone’s entryway.

 

He looks around. It’s…a normal house. Floors of oak planks, thick beams holding up the roof. There’s fresh flowers everywhere . 

 

And at the low tea table just inside, there’s a gnarled looking old woman. Her robes are silver with crimson accents at the collar and wrists. She has flowing sleeves that pool in her lap, and a sturdy wooden cane leans against the table. The top of it is curved and the end capped in silver, carved to look like a tiger's head. Her eyelids are sunken and her face is grey and lined with age. Her silver hair is braided and pinned to the back of her head. She wears no makeup, no adornments in her hair.

 

“Hello boys,” Xi Qingyi says cheerfully. “About time you got around to visiting. Mu Shidi , one wonders in particular how come my favorite shixiong has been ignoring me for the past few years?”

 

Um, because he’s been trying not to get caught, thank you? Shen Yuan thinks. Xu Qingyi’s eyes are red rimmed, the brown irises lined with the glinting white of cataracts. He meets her eyes. Actually. The longer Mu Qingfang looks at her, the more he’s struck by a sense of wrongness . He tilts his head to the side allowing his spiritual sense to passively take in information. Her core glows bright as a small sun, her meridians are wide and smooth, the qi flowing abundantly.

 

Her teeth-

 

Xu Qingyi grins, showing her yellowed teeth, complete with gaps.

 

But, no. Her teeth…He ignores what he sees and focuses on what he feels . There’s not a damned thing wrong with them, Mu Qingfang realises. “You’re not old at all !”

 

Throwing her head back, Xu Qingyi laughs long and hard. Beside him, Shang Qinghua snickers. “Some things don’t change, Shimei.”

 

“Mu Qingfang,” Xu Qingyi says warmly. “Come and sit. I’ve missed seeing your face, even if there’s someone else behind those eyes now.” She waves carelessly at his shocked pikachu face. “If there’s a reborn martial god as my Shixiong, I promise you I was aware of it. Xuan Zhen was a good man and a good physician, if a bit uptight.  Sit, A-Yuan, you’re among friends here.”

 

Between Shang Qinghua and Xu Qingyi the full story emerges. When the Qing generation first Ascended, Xu Qingyi was only eighteen. Being the youngest of all the succeeding disciples and a woman, the rest of the peak lords did not take her seriously, ignoring her predictions much to their own detriment.

 

But Shang Qinghua, architect of the world, knew full well what kind of Fortune Teller Xu Qingyi was. The kind with scary fucking accuracy, the other man confirmed with a wry grin. With a shrug, Shang Qinghua added, “She came up with the idea herself, she just needed a little help with the implementation.” Eyes sparkling with mirth, he says, “Qi deviations can do such strange things in this world, you know?”

 

“Fortunately,” Xu Qingyi says, “Mu Shixiong also enjoyed a good joke, especially at the expense of some of those he considered blowhards.”

 

“ Gao Qingshen ,” Shang Qinghua says in a cough and Mu Qingfang snickers.

 

“Anyway, Mu Shixiong confirmed that I had suffered a qi deviation which made my appearance like this.” She shrugs, and for a moment, Mu Qingfang feels like he sees an echo of her true face. Golden eyes, a pert nose, and an impish smile in a heart shaped face. He blinks, and the vision is gone. Across the table, Xu Qingyi meets his eyes and winks.

 

“Now, A-Yuan, I hear you have some happy news?” Xu Qingyi’s voice lilts up as she speaks, and she’s clearly happy about it. “You and…let me see,” she taps a finger against her chin. “Shen Qingqiu, that dog! How in the world did that come about, he’s as prickly as a scalded cat.”

 

Shang Qinghua gives him a friendly elbow in the side. “Oh, Mu Xiong here just did what no one else did. He treated Shen Shixiong like a person .”

 

Nodding, Xu Qingyi’s expression sobers. “Yes. That would do the trick. Still, it’s enough to change not only his fate, but everyone elses’s too.” She meets Mu Qingfang’s eyes. “Well done, Mu Shixiong. I was not looking forward to camping for the next fifty years. Although I could do without young Binghe making a nuisance of himself on every peak.” Her tone is distinctly aggravated, and Mu Qingfang barks a laugh.

 

“Oh, does that sound familiar!” He laughs. “I have no clue why those two are the way that they are, but they’re making Shen Qingqiu insane .”

 

Xu Qingyi proceeds to ask Mu Qingfang a series of questions: his original birthdate, the birth place , the names of his parents and siblings. She looks to Shang Qinghua for Shen Qingqiu’s information which is…all right, it’s reasonable, it’s just weird . She throws a handful of bones onto the table and squints at them. Her eyes flash silver before reverting to their usual deep brown.

 

“Midsummer,” Xu Qingyi says. “The day of the equinox as the sun touches the horizon and the light of day fades.”

 

“What?!” Shang Qinghua squawks. He buries his head in his hands, moaning,  “That gives me just under a year to plan a wedding between two peak lords! Not to mention my own! Why do my children hate me?!!”

 

Xu Qingyi flicks a spark of qi at Shang Qinghua who yelps and glares accusingly across the table. “Hey!”

 

After two pots of tea and some good conversation, Mu Qingfang makes his excuses. Xu Qingyi rises from her side of the table, grabbing her cane and walking him to the door. Shang Qinghua stays behind with a smirk.

 

“We’re going to finish gossiping about the rest of my children bro, see you later!” The man gives him a cheery wave from his cushion.

 

“Outside this door, you’ll be Mu Shixiong again,” Xu Qingyi says with surprising gentleness. “But if there is ever a time you wish to speak of your other family, or to just be A-Yuan again for a little while, come and see Auntie.” She winks. “I will know when you set foot upon the peak.”

 

Shen Yuan’s throat tightens, and he catches his breath a little. He’s been able to be himself with Shen Qingqiu for a long time, now. But he hasn’t discussed his family much with the other man. Xu Qingyi gives him a significant look and Mu Qingfang exhales. “Thanking Xu Shimei for the guidance.”

 

She pats him on the shoulder. “Be good, Shixiong. And try not to worry, so. You’ve already done most of the hard work. It’s just this one last thing.”

*

 

Back on Qian Cao peak, Mu Qingfang gets an update from Wu Yanshin. Wei Qingwei has been released, the black eschar retreated down to the man’s fingertips. Out of danger, he just needs to rest for another day or so before resuming his usual activities.

 

Mu Qingfang has to admit: He hadn’t realised that Wei Shixiong’s cultivation was that strong. It’s impressive, but the man is a peak lord. He kind of keeps forgetting that they’re all pretty badass. He’s not sure that he measures up in comparison, though he knows that Shen Qingqiu would feel differently.

 

It’s just that since the conference, what has he done with himself? He’s done some research on Yue Shixiong’s sword, but that’s really it. He can’t really say that his mini-breakdowns and a qi deviation have helped with the impostor syndrome.

 

And after speaking with Xu Qingyi…the part of him that’s Shen Yuan really misses his family.

 

He flies back to Qing Jing peak still feeling a bit down.

 

Outside the bamboo house, he hears raised voices, a fact that doesn’t exactly bode well. Mu Qingfang  knocks, just to be safe.

 

Shen Qingqiu yanks the door open. “What!” He looks at Mu Qingfang and frowns. “Oh. A-Yuan. You don’t need to knock . Come in, I was having a chat with your little beast.”

 

Luo Binghe is kneeling at the tea table deep in a sulk, which is honestly pretty hilarious for the up and coming demonic emperor. He’s wearing Qing Jing senior disciple robes. Clearly, Shen Qingqiu has been fussing at him for some time given the young man's downtrodden expression.

 

“Hi Binghe,” Mu Qingfang says and sinks down next to Shen Qingqiu’s place at the table. 

 

“Mu Shishu.” Luo Binghe greets pleasantly, before looking mopey again.

 

“A-Jiu, were you finished with Binghe?” Mu Qingfang watches Shen Qingqiu kneel gracefully next  to him.

 

With a slow roll of his eyes, Shen Qingqiu says, “That depends on if Luo Binghe starts thinking with his upper head instead of the lower one.” Mu Qingfang winces, but Shen Qingqiu keeps going. “Little Beast, I don’t care if you are a demon lord, you are first and foremost a disciple of this peak . And your many varied indiscretions are causing me to lose all face with my idiot martial siblings!” He pauses to take a breath.

 

“This disciple begs forgiveness, Shizun.” Luo Binghe says sullenly. Mu Qingfang hastily hides a smile.

 

“Little Beast, I mean it. I will find a way to punish you, a way that will get it into that thick head that I am serious about this. If it comes to it, I will have the Sect Leader confine Liu Shidi to the Ling Xi caves to cultivate for a year and see if that gets the message through.” Shen Qingqiu glares across the table.

 

Luo Binghe’s eyes flash crimson, his demon mark glowing brightly. Shen Qingqiu arches an eyebrow like he’s daring the younger man to do something. Mu Qingfang readies needles between his fingers just in case he needs to sedate either of them.   Slowly, the repressive demonic energy fades, and Luo Binghe takes a few deep breaths. At last, his eyes are solely a deep and sparkling black. “This disciple hears and will obey Shizun.” He clenches his jaw. “If there is nothing else Shizun requires, this disciple will leave first.”

 

“Dismissed.” Shen Qingqiu says flatly, and Luo Binghe leaves in silence. Looking straight ahead, Shen Qingqiu sighs heavily. “He needs to return to the demon realm and kill some things.” Finally he turns his head toward Mu Qingfang. “Are you sure you don’t need more of those snails? Perhaps some Death Quail tears? Anything to get the two of them away for a month or so?”

 

Smiling slowly, Mu Qingfang says, “Well, Wei Shixiong did just suffer severe burns. Qian Cao can always use more Anise Snow Snail mucin.”

 

Shen Qingqiu’s face softens. “Snail slime,” he murmurs. “Serves both of those brats right.”

 

“I met Xu Shimei today,” Mu Qingfang says, and Shen Qingqiu’s face brightens further. “I have the auspicious date for our wedding.”

 

“ A-Yuan .” Shen Qingqiu’s dark green eyes are very warm, and he brushes a thumb across Mu Qingfang’s face.

 

Mu Qingfang smiles, wide and bright. “Next midsummer, right at dusk.” He leans in, stealing a kiss. “Jiu-ge. We’re getting married .”

Notes:

SQQ: Clearly punishing YOU is pointless.

LBH: Hey.

SQQ: Therefore I will punish LQG

LBH :HEY!!!!! >:(

 

Hello everyone!!! I'm working on clearing my WIPS and this is front and center!!! Thanks so much for your patience and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 14

Summary:

Time to visit Wan Jian Peak!

Mu Qingfang sends meeting requests to several peak lords a few weeks later. Buoyed by Xu Qingyi’s words when they met ( there’s just one thing left to do ) he steels himself for finally dealing with Yue Qingyuan’s sword.

 

It’s a short time between sending the notice out, and having four peak lords meet him on Qiong Ding peak. Mu Qingfang, Shen Qingqiu, Yue Qingyuan, Shang Qinghua and Wei Qingwei settle around a large tea table in Yue Qingyuan’s freestanding office.

 

Shen Qingqiu forbids the man from preparing tea, and while he does that, Mu Qingfang requests permission to examine Wei Qingwei’s healed burns.

 

 The sword smith grins cheerfully. “Mu Shidi, how forward! And in front of your betrothed, too!”

 

From the kitchen, Shen Qingqiu snorts. “Worry not, Mu Shidi, your virtue is safe. That one is mostly talk.”

 

“Ah, Shixiong,” Wei Qingwei complains good naturedly. He removes his vanbraces and tugs his sleeves up past his elbows. The skin below is pale and unblemished by scars or other marks. Even the very tips of his fingers are healthy and warm.

 

“Remarkable,” Mu Qingfang says, peering at Wei Shixiong’s fingertips and turning his hand over to look at the palms. He runs a finger lightly over one of the creases and Wei Qingwei jumps a little.

 

Abashed, he says, “Apologies. It’s still a little sensitive.” Wei Qingwei grimaces and flexes his hand. “Lost all my calluses too. What a pain to build them up again.”

 

Shang Qinghua rolls his eyes. “You burned all the skin off a couple weeks ago and that’s what you’re worried about?”

 

“Qingwei shidi is talented,” Yue Qingyuan says diplomatically.

 

Shen Qingqiu carries the tea tray over, making a face at the last comment. “Damned lucky is more accurate.”

 

Wei Qingwei laughs out loud, a great booming sound that makes Mu Qingfang grin. “I can’t argue with Qingqiu Shixiong.”

 

Mu Qingfang snorts. “Yeah, I don’t recommend that either,” and everyone laughs. 

 

Shen Qingqiu levels him with a glare. “Mu Shidi will pour.” 

 

Sourly, Mu Qingfang reaches for the teapot. Yes, Jiu-ge, he’s technically the youngest, but no one else knows that besides Qinghua! He actually catches Shang Qinghua’s eyes, and the other man smirks before hastily wiping the expression clean when Shen Qingqiu glances his way.

 

Once all the requisite sips have been taken, Mu Qingfang begins. “I’m sure you have all guessed why I called you here. Yue Shixiong, I would like you to confirm that you want to go through the process to dissolve your current sword bond.” He holds up a hand to forestall the sect leader's comments.

 

“Before you say anything, please know that any of the options are untested and we have no idea what repercussions may occur. It is possible that your cultivation is affected. However, if that is the case, Shang Qinghua and I came up with a contingency which should restore it.” Mu Qingfang waits, and Yue Qingyuan nods.

 

“Thank you, Mu Shidi. Yes. I want to go through with this action, and will accept the risks and responsibility of doing so.” Yue Qingyuan’s voice is steady. His gaze is too, when Mu Qingfang  meets it.

 

“Very well,” Mu Qingfang says. “Qingwei, the last time we met there was some question about a chamber in the Hall of Swords that Yue Shixiong might use to either return his sword or expunge the bond.”

 

Brightening, Wei Qingwei leans forward. “Since I haven’t been able to do any metalwork lately,” he gives his hands a wry look, “I’ve been investigating the older sections in the Hall of Swords. Interestingly, I did find the ‘punishment’ chamber, and inside is an array designed to forcibly remove the bond between sword and wielder." He clears his throat and looks toward the sect leader. “Unfortunately, Zhangmen Shixiong, I…don’t think it’s going to be very comfortable for you.”

 

Yue Qingyuan appears unbothered. Calmly, he says, “I am no stranger to pain, Shidi. My current bond has never been what anyone might call comfortable.”

 

Sitting up straight, Shen Qingqiu glares at the sect leader. “And what precisely does that mean, Qi-ge?”

 

Averting his eyes, Yue Qingyuan says, “Ah…that is to say…”

 

“Wrist,” Mu Qingfang orders, extending his hand across the table, and making a give it gesture with his fingers. Sheepishly, Yue Qingyuan offers his wrist, and Mu Qingfang scans. Nothing, at least, nothing unusual. That being said, he’s never run one of the deepest scans on the man.

 

“Brace yourself,” he says shortly, and does so. Yue Qingyuan flinches. With good reason, Mu Qingfang thinks. This kind of scan probably feels like scraping the inside of his meridians. Once he’s finished, he adjusts his qi to be soothing, sending healing energy through the man’s system. At last he withdraws completely. “Apologies, Yue Shixiong, I know that was uncomfortable.”

 

He’s never looked for the sword bond before during any of his examinations with Yue Shixiong. To be honest, it never occurred to him that he could . But Airplane wrote Mu Qingfang to be the best doctor in the Jianghu, and even though it’s Shen Yuan who's riding in his meatsuit, apparently that’s still the case. 

 

Now that he’s bothered to look, Mu Qingfang senses a diversion where there shouldn’t be. The heart is considered the sovereign of all organs and represents the consciousness of a being. As such, it’s responsible for intelligence, wisdom, and spiritual transformation. There definitely should not be leak of qi to an external source.

 

How could he have missed this? The unnatural circuit is essentially like a small aneurysm in the spirit vein, the false lumen of which- Mu Qingfang suspects-leads directly to the Xuan Su sword.

 

A metaphysical drain on Yue Qingyuan’s most important meridians.

 

“Sect leader, perhaps we should speak privately?” Mu Qingfang tries, but he can already tell from the expression on Yue Qingyuan’s face what his response will be.

 

“Speak freely, please, Mu Shidi,” Yue Qingyuan says, voice only slightly strained. 

 

Next to him, Shen Qingqiu shifts uncomfortably. Mu Qingfang accidentally meets Wei Qingwei’s eyes and the swordsmith crosses his arms over his chest. 

 

“Let’s have it, Qingfang Shidi,” Wei Qingwei says.

 

Once Mu Qingfang has finished speaking, Shen Qingqiu snorts. “No wonder you’ve done some of the things you’ve done, Qi-ge. Responsible for intelligence, pah! No wonder.” Shen Qingqiu’s distinctly sour tone has the strange effect of making Yue Qingyuan grin.

 

“Qingqiu Shidi, clearly I have a disability-” Yue Qingyuan starts.

 

Cutting him right off, Shen Qingqiu says, “Your face is a disability, Qi-ge!”

 

Shang Qinghua chortles. Hastily, he covers his mouth with his hands, but it’s clear the man is still giggling under there.

 

Over the next shichen, the group plans out their strategy. All five peak lords will go to the Punishment chamber in the Hall of Swords. There, Yue Qingyuan will step into the expungement array with Xuan Su unsheathed.

 

It’s expected that Yue Qingyuan will need massive qi transfusion to prevent a major deviation from the lack of spiritual energy. With the sword unsheathed, it will act like a vacuum on Yue Shixong’s life force. The bond must be successfully severed as soon as possible to avert the worst case scenario: death.

 

Not only must Mu Qingfang direct the transfusion of qi, he must also be prepared to resuscitate the Sect Leader if needed. He eyes Shang Qinghua who nods. He already knows that Airplane is familiar with good old CPR, and has promised to help out if he has to.

 

Once the bond is broken, Wei Qingwei will destroy Xuan Su.

 

“Good riddance,” Shen Qingqiu says snidely, but his fist is clenched under the table. 

 

“Since this is likely to be difficult,” Wei Qingwei says with surprising delicacy, “Should we consider asking Xu Shimei for guidance on an appropriate date to do so?”

 

Nodding slowly, Shen Qingqiu says, “Yes. That idea has merit.” He narrows his eyes. “Shang Shidi, we will rely on you to coordinate with Xu Qingyi without discussing any confidential items.”

 

“I mean, okay, but literally all she needs to do is, you know, use her sight or whatever and then she’d just, like… know .” Shang Qinghua says. He holds up his hands at Shen Qingqiu glare. “It’s fine! I’m just saying, like. She’s clairvoyant and a peak lord. What makes you think she doesn’t already know?”

 

Yue Qingyuan rubs his temple. “Disclose what you need to, and only that, Qinghua Shidi.”

 

Much, much, later, Shang Qinghua confides that Xu Shimei wasn’t even on the peak but had left a note with several dates to choose from.

 

*

 

In the first light of morning, Mu Qingfang flies to Wan Jian peak, Shen Qingqiu at his side. They land at the usual spot and walk to the Great Forge, where Wei Shixiong is meeting all of them. The disciples they pass give them a wide berth and Mu Qingfang wonders if Wei Shixiong advised them to steer clear.

 

Yue Qingyuan is already there. He’s dressed not in his usual Sect Leader robes with intricate silver stitching. No, these robes are older and clearly worn. Mu Qingfang thinks he probably wanted to be more comfortable for an uncomfortable procedure. 

 

The sect leader’s eyes brighten when he spies them approaching and greets them with his usual politeness.

 

“Are you feeling well this morning?” Mu Qingfang asks, trying to gauge the other man’s mood.

 

Giving him a strained smile, Yue Qingyuan answers, “As well as one can.”

 

Shen Qingqiu crosses his arms. “He’s anxious. Don’t let that mask fool you, Mu Shidi.”

 

“Shixiongs!” Wei Qingwei calls from across the courtyard, giving them a wave. Shang Qinghua is with him, hurrying to stay at the taller man’s side. 

 

Scurrying like that, he definitely reminds Mu Qingfang of a little hamster. Hiding his smile, he nods at everyone.

 

“Well,” Shang Qinghua says, rocking back on his heels. “Are we ready?”

 

It’s Yue Qingyuan who answers. “We are.” It nets him a sharp jab from Shen Qingqiu’s elbow, and the sect leader laughs. “Qingqiu shidi,” he chides. “I was trying to lighten the mood.”

 

“You’re terrible at it,” Shen Qingqiu snaps, a line of irritation forming between his brows. 

 

Mu Qingfang lays a hand on his back, a silent reassurance. “Let’s get going, then. Soonest started is soonest finished.”

 

He can’t exactly say that he’s never been to the Hall of Swords, so he hangs back, allowing the others to precede him. Shen Qingqiu lingers by his side, allowing Shang Qinghua to walk abreast with the other two peak lords.

 

They climb down steep steps on the sheer outer cliff of Wan Jian Peak. After a staircase that feels endless, they turn into a cavern directly into the mountain. Just inside are great doors made from heavy oak and steel. The sensation of ancient and powerful qi makes the hair on his arms stand up and his neck prickle with unease. 

 

Wei Qingwei moves closer, forming an array into his hands. As far as Mu Qingfang knows, it’s An Ding peak who are array masters, but there is always overlap. For example, Ku Xing peak are talisman specialists, but Shen Qingqiu and several of his hallmasters are as skilled.

 

The array in the sword smith’s hands expands rapidly, blanketing the doors in spiritual energy that fits into unseen cracks and crevices like a key in a lock. All at once, the doors heave open with an unpleasant grinding sound.

 

Shen Qingqiu frowns. Mu Qingfang refrains from wrinkling his nose in displeasure. Ew. Like nails on a chalkboard.

 

Wei Qingwei shakes off his hands, grimacing. “I forgot about the new skin,” he explains. “That stung more than I’d like. Follow me.”

 

Just inside the doors is a marvel of Xianxia technology. For light streams down from above, muted, like an approximation of the sky outside. The walls are carved smooth, and Mu Qingfang can’t help wondering how the ancient people of Cang Qiong managed it.

 

Shang Qinghua, a few steps ahead of him, twists his head around and grins smugly. Mu Qingfang rolls his eyes in response. Look at my worldbuilding, he feels the other man preening silently.

 

The cavern narrows as they go deeper under the mountain, the passageway tightening but still allowing grown men to stand without fear of head strikes. Faintly glowing lichen grows sporadically along the closing walls, little bursts of green and blue. It makes what could have felt like a horror movie into something much more whimsical. 

 

As they continue on, the colorful lichen is less prevalent and so each cultivator flares bright qi into their palm, lighting the way. The path forward begins sharply tilting downward and remains on the trajectory for what feels like a long time.

 

“We’re nearly there,” Wei Qingwei says, from up at the front. Yue Qingyuan is just behind him, followed by Shang Qinghua, Mu Qingfang, and Shen Qingqiu at the end.

 

“This isn’t the way you take the disciples, though,” Shang Qinghua calls, and Wei Qingwei guffaws.

 

“Of course not!” Wei Qingwei laughs. “That’s up top. No, if you’re looking for a secret chamber it seemed prudent to go where the little ones aren’t.” Mu Qingfang knows from experience that Wei Shixiong is probably grinning with good humor. A bad mood hates to see that man coming! Continuing, Wei Qingwei says, “This is the back way into the Hall of Swords. In an emergency, I’d take the entire peak down here to hide, if needed.” After a moment he adds, “There’s other ways out up ahead, but you’d have to be the Peak Lord to know them. In prior generations this was a deeply held secret, but. If I can’t trust you all then we’re already lost.”

 

Oh. Mu Qingfang stops, a bit stunned by Wei Shixiong’s trust. Shen Qingqiu bumps into his back. 

 

“Qingfang?” Shen Qingqiu murmurs, and Mu Qingfang feels warm fingers wrapping around his own.

 

He squeezes Shen Qingqiu’s hand. “I’m alright. Let’s keep going.”

 

Eventually the tunnel narrows so that the men must walk single file. The ground slopes ever downward, and Mu Qingfang feels like his ears need to pop.

 

“Finally!” Wei Qingwei exclaims from up front.

 

Mu Qingfang follows Shang Qinghua to where the tunnel opens up into a completely enclosed cave. It’s about the size of Shen Qingqiu’s front room. Mu Qingfang shifts carefully, edging his way through so he can see up ahead.

 

Wei Qingwei forms his qi into small spheres, sending them out into the small cave, lighting it for them.

 

“Oh, shit,” Shang Qinghua mutters. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Fuck that’s creepy.”

 

“What is it?” Mu Qingfang asks.

 

Shang Qinghua ignores him. “Uh, Zhangmen Shixiong? I…that array isn’t…um. It’s not…”

 

“Speak clearly!” Shen Qingqiu demands. He’s tall and thin, easily slipping behind Mu Qingfang to stand at Shang Qinghua’s other side. “What’s the issue?” 

 

The An Ding peak lord bites his lip. “You guys can’t feel it? One entire section of that thing is designed to dampen spiritual energy. Right now, it’s--I don’t know--inert , but I can tell you whoever made that thing, they designed it to be brutal .”

 

“It was meant to be a punishment chamber,” Yue Qingyuan says soberly, from a short distance away. He exchanges glances with Wei Qingwei. “I was not under any delusions this will be pleasant .”

 

“Yeah, but--” Shang Qinghua protests.

 

“Enough,” Shen Qingqiu says sharply. “He’s made his decision.” Shang Qinghua looks mutinous, but he nods grimly. “Wei Shidi. Now what?”

 

Uncharacteristically sober, Wei Qingwei walks around the perimeter of the array. It’s etched directly into the bedrock, and filled in with a metal looking ore. In the center, a short distance apart, are two thick chains which each end in a wrist cuff. “This is permanent,” he murmurs. “Not solely because of the elementals in the array. The way it’s inscribed, the metal and the rock…Qingyuan Shixiong, there is no going back after this.”

 

Yue Qingyuan straightens his shoulders. He removes the bracers on his arms, tossing them carelessly onto the ground while Shen Qingqiu sighs heavily. The sect leader removes the large hair crown, leaving his hair secured in a partial ponytail. 

 

Shen Qingqiu grabs his hair crown before Yue Qingyuan chucks that on the floor, too. “Give me that! Disgraceful. ” It disappears safely up Shen Shixiong’s sleeve.

 

While Shen Qingqiu helps the sect leader prepare, Shang Qinghua leans over and whispers harshly in Mu Qingfang’s ear.  “I have such a bad feeling about this, bro.” After a moment he adds, “Shit’s about to go sideways, just watch.”

 

Mu Qingfang flicks his ear with his fingers. 

 

“Hey!”

 

“Stop raising deathflags, you stupid hack!” Mu Qingfang hisses quietly. “The fuck is wrong with you!?”

 

Wei Qingwei shows Yue Qingyuan where he needs to stand in the center of the array. “We’ll need to apply the cuffs before you draw your sword, Shixiong. Once you draw Xuan Su, the array will come to life.” He crosses his thick arms over his chest. “None of us can enter until it powers down.”

 

Yue Qingyuan nods. Like this, no crown, and dressed down, he looks less like a powerful immortal and more like a young man who is in over his head. Yue Qingyuan presses his lips together. “Xiao-ah. Qingqiu shidi.” Their eyes meet.

 

“If you dare to say goodbye to me, I’ll slit your throat this instant!” Shen Qingqiu snarls, winding up and whacking Yue Qingyuan’s shoulder with his hand fan. “Shut up! Be grateful I’m here, else you’d be stupid enough to walk in the center of that thing without any preparation!”

 

The sect leader grins, and Mu Qingfang thinks it’s one of the few genuine smiles he’s ever seen the man give. “Qingqiu is right, as always.” Yue Qingyuan’s eyes catch Mu Qingfang’s.

 

Mu Qingfang shrugs and smiles a little. “I can’t argue with that .”

 

“You better not,” Shen Qingqiu says, but backs away from Yue Qingyuan.

 

“All right, Shixiong, better get into position,” Wei Qingwei says. “Once you’re ready, we’ll put the cuffs on. Wait until everyone is outside the boundary of the array before you draw Xuan Su.” He lays a hand on Yue Qingyuan’s shoulder, giving him a firm squeeze.

 

“Thanking Wei Shidi,” Yue Qingyuan says, before addressing the rest of the peak lords. “Thanking all of you, actually.”

 

“Qi-ge,” Shen Qingqiu says warningly, but his voice wavers. Silently, Mu Qingfang moves next to him, standing so close their shoulders touch. Shen Qingqiu presses back against him, just a little.

 

Yue Qingyuan nods. “Very well.” He takes a deep breath, then exhales all at once. He walks unhesitantly to the center of the array.

 

Wei Qingwei follows and gets the cuffs locked in place on each wrist. The chains are anchored into the bedrock. “Give me a moment to get clear, and I’ll give you the go ahead.”

 

Yue Qingyuan meets his eyes, and nods sharply.

 

Moments later, Wei Qingwei clears the array and makes sure everyone is well clear too. “Now, Shixiong.”

 

The shackled man produces his sword. In one smooth motion, Yue Qingyuan pulls the blade free of the sheath with a metallic shing . Then the world explodes into bright, blinding light.

Notes:

SQH: I have a bad feeling about this

MQF: Shut. THE FUCK UP

SQQ: EVERYONE STFU FFS *Is already so done*

Chapter 15

Summary:

TW: seizures, medical stuff, indirect discussion of eyeball stuff

Yue Qingyuan holds his unsheathed sword and the world lights up with blinding golden light. A split second later, the expungement array triggers. The radicals etched into the metal and stone glow a bright silver and then it feels like all the air is sucked out of the room. There’s plenty, of course, but the sudden pressure of immense spiritual energy makes Mu Qingfang feel unbalanced.

 

Shang Qinghua staggers, only for Wei Qingwei to lay a grounding hand on the man’s shoulder. Next to Mu Qingfang, Shen Qingqiu stands tall and strong, gaze locked onto the man in the center of the array.

 

Yue Qingyuan clenches his fists, the hilt of Xuan Su gripped tightly in his right hand. He strains against the heavy chains. The sword glare is like a mini-sun, painfully bright and giving off a great deal of heat. 

 

The expungement array starts off soundless, but as it gathers the energy from the sword bond, a bone deep hum echoes through the cave. Mu Qingfang narrows his eyes at the glare of Xuan Su, but watches Yue Qingyuan closely. 

 

The sword glare is powered from his soul . But such is the intensity and strength of the Sect Leader, that it feels like a long time indeed before the sword glare dims even a little. The array itself grows brighter with the more power it absorbs, the hum deepening into vibrations felt in the bedrock itself. Dust falls from the ceiling like a bizarre snowfall..

 

Across the room Wei Qingwei staggers, falling to one knee while Mu Qingfang’s eyes widen in alarm.

 

“Wei Shixiong!” Mu Qingfang cries but the other man holds up a hand, indicating that for now, at least, he’s all right. Now that Mu Qingfang is paying attention to him and not the sect leader, he senses the drag of the swordsmith’s spiritual energy into the array.

 

As the Wan Jian peak lord, is the array somehow linked to him? Is Wei Qingwei partially powering the array? A quick glance shows him that no one else is so affected.  Next to Mu Qingfang, Shen Qingqiu makes a concerned noise in his throat, drawing his attention back to Yue Qingyuan.

 

In the seconds that Mu Qingfang’s attention was diverted, Yue Qingyuan was also down to one knee, head thrown back and tendons in his neck pulled tight. His face is a rictus of agony. The tip of his sword tilts toward the ground now and when it touches the array Yue Qingyuan convulses into a long seizure. The jerking motion of his limbs and body is unfortunately all too familiar to Mu Qingfang.

 

“Shit!” He mutters. He hasn’t seen that in person since his transmigration but Mu Qing’s download gave him all the information he needed. Status epilepticus . An episode of seizures that is unceasing.  Seizures like that cause hypoxia, and also use up a great deal of the body’s glucose from the ongoing muscle contractions. Both of those things were extremely dangerous, not like he didn’t have enough critical things to deal with!

 

He watches Yue Qingyuan’s seizures continue while the sword glare weakens. When the light from the Xuan Su sword begins sputtering, Mu Qingfang catches a glimpse of Yue Qingyuan’s face. Even at this distance he sees that the sect leader’s lips have turned an alarming shade of purple.

 

If he doesn’t restore oxygen to the man, Yue Shixiong could die from that! Mu Qingfang takes a step forward, but Shen Qingqiu grips his arm tightly. 

 

“Where do you think you're going?” Shen Qingqiu demands harshly, fingers like iron bands on his arm.

 

The sputtering sword glare is nearly extinguished. Mu Qingfang looks into Shen Qingqiu’s eyes and makes a decision. He readies himself. “I love you,” he says, and then Shen Qingqiu freezes, his eyes widening in betrayal.

 

Mu Qingfang doesn’t need physical needles to knock someone out, and it’s a simple matter to use his qi to put Shen Qingqiu to sleep. He eases the other man to the ground, producing a small hand towel and placing it under Shen Qingqiu’s head. Across the array, Wei Qingwei, and Shang Qinghua look at him in horror.

 

Ignoring them, Mu Qingfang sets his jaw and enters the array. Light flares up all around him, feeling like a physical thing , shoving him this way and that. He staggers to Yue Qingyuan and now at this distance, he senses the other man’s too-slow, irregular heart beat.   At that moment, Xuan Su’s light goes dark completely, and Mu Qingfang knocks it from Yue Qingyuan’s clenched grip. The sect leader collapses backward, the rattle of the chains seeming absurdly loud to Mu Qingfang’s ears.

 

He expects the array to power down. Instead it focuses on him . Mu Qingfang feels like he’s in a sandstorm, both physical and metaphysical, scouring him from the inside out. His skin feels like it’s being flayed from his body, and his eyes burn. Glowing afterimages are scorched into his retinas, surely not a great sign.

 

In spite of the immense pain, Mu Qingfang lays a hand on Yue Qingyuan’s chest. He feels a drawn out pause between beats and just when he’s getting ready to perform a precordial thump , the man’s heart begins beating in a rapid, irregularly irregular pace. 

 

Something is happening to Mu Qingfang, though he’s not sure what. His vision has darkened to near completion, and he’s essentially blind at the moment, though he’s not sure if it’s from the intensity of the sustained light or the vast amount of spiritual energy that blasted him when he entered the array. He closes his eyes since they’re currently useless. Fortunately, his spiritual energy is undamaged and he starts passing qi through a much less controlled manner than usual.

 

Another person’s qi joins his, powerful and strong and familiar . This is the qi of fire and metal, of safe hearths and good company. Wei Qingwei appears in his periphery, recognizable solely by the feel of his qi. The man kneels down next to him, laying one hand on Mu Qingfang’s back to supplement his spiritual energy. The strength of his qi is much more powerful than usual, almost like the man had a breakthrough.

 

A few moments later, Yue Qingyuan’s heart beat stabilizes under his hand.  “Hm, time to take care of that ,” Wei Shixiong says, and rises to his feet. He unsheathes Hong Jing, loading it with dazzling pure silver qi. The sword smith slashes down without holding back and an ear splitting CRACK fills the air. Wei Qingwei heaves a great sigh. “Well. Good riddance.” 

 

He crouches down next to Mu Qingfang again, sheathing his sword. “Ah, Mu Shidi…” Wei Qingwei sounds concerned.

 

Mu Qingfang tries to open his eyes, but it’s no use. They’re too burned to see and he can’t even open them right now. Well, his eyes may not be working but his voice does! “Keep transfusing qi to Yue Shixiong,” Mu Qingfang orders. “Qinghua,” he calls, “See to Shen Qingqiu.”

 

“Yeah, um….okay!” Shang Qinghua sounds weirdly hesitant.

 

Really, Wei Qingwei feels absurdly overpowered now! Does Mu Qingfang even need to be here anymore? Honestly, he’s pretty tired. Exhaustion hits him all at once. From far away, he hears raised voices. Some time passes. He’s not sure, but he thinks he hears Shen Qingqiu’s voice.

 

“What the fuck did you do, Yuan-er?” 

 

Exhausted, Shen Yuan grins, keeping his eyes closed. “What I had to,” he sighs. “It worked, though.”

 

The scent of jasmine reaches his nose, and he feels Shen Qingqiu’s lips at his ear. “When you get past this I am going to kill you.”

 

Everything goes dim for a period of time, and though Mu Qingfang is aware of being moved and voices around him speaking, it all seems very far away and unimportant. 

 

*

 

Regaining consciousness feels like swimming up from a great depth. The sounds around Mu Qingfang are blurry. All of his limbs feel heavy. He tries and fails to open his eyes. Actually, they might be bandaged shut. “Hey,” he attempts to say, but only a vague grunt escapes.

 

The bed shifts under him. Mu Qingfang is so weak he can’t even flinch properly. “I’m here,” Shen Qingqiu says quietly.

 

Distantly, he feels pressure around his wrist or hand. It is impossible to differentiate. Oh, Mu Qingfang realizes. He must have gotten hurt during Yue Shixiong’s treatment. Now that he knows Shen Qingqiu is here, all the tension melts away. He tries again to speak, croaking, “Jiu.”

 

“That’s right, A-Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu murmurs. “Your A-Jiu is here with you.”

 

Mu Qingfang tries to shift but his body stubbornly doesn’t move. He… fuck ! Can’t even pick his arms up off the bed.

 

“Stop scowling, A-Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu scolds gently. “You’re very weak because you did something extremely stupid, and we will talk about that in the future, however…” He sighs. “For right now, Healer Xie tells me that weakness is to be expected. Sleep.”

 

*

 

Flashes of awareness come and go. At one point Mu Qingfang wakens to hear Shang Qinghua muttering from next to his bed. His arms have graduated from feeling heavy to feeling scalded.

What happened? Why does he still have bandages on his eyes? How come none of the healers have been updating him? Also, where is Shen Qingqiu?

 

Mu Qingfang croaks, “Air-” and dissolves into painfully deep coughing. While he hacks, Shang Qinghua scrambles around and calls for help.

 

Moments later, “You had one job, Shidi,” Shen Qingqiu says sharply. “ Out. ” The bed dips. “I’m here, A-Yuan.  Xie Yanmei is with me.”

 

“Peak Lord Shang, if you please?” Xie Yanmei says calmly from nearby.

 

“Oh! Yeah, of course,” Shang Qinghua says all at once. Seconds later a privacy barrier hums to life in the room and he closes the door quietly behind him.

 

Mu Qingfang can still sense qi well enough, and his golden core continues to spin. Why then, does he feel like all his skin’s been sandblasted off?! He clears his throat and tries to speak again. “Water…”

 

Before he dissolves into coughing again, he feels the edge of a cup at his lip. Cool water soothes his cracked tongue and he swallows the entire thing down greedily. 

 

“Easy, Shen Yuan,” Xie Yanmei says. “I’ll give you more in a moment.” She pauses briefly then adds, “We’ve had this conversation a few times already, at least I have, but I doubt you’d remember.” She takes a breath and exhales heavily. “Shen Qingqiu told me how you entered the expungement array under Wan Jian peak.”

 

Oh, yeah, Mu Qingfang thinks. That did happen. “Yue…?” Someone sighs, and he’s pretty sure that was A-Jiu.

 

“Unconscious, still,” Shen Qingqiu says, a thread of worry audible in his tone.

 

“Luckily,” Xie Yanmei continues, “The array was nearly finished destroying the Sect Leader’s sword when you entered it. Unfortunately, that means it turned its attention to you .” Pained silence fills the room. “It expunged the parts of you that were not yours .”

 

Mu Qingfang frowns. Huh?

 

“You-” Yanmei tries, but huffs in frustration.

 

“Stop trying to sugarcoat it,” Shen Qingqiu says. “It’s not helping. He doesn’t understand, because he can’t see .”

 

“As I understand it,” Xie Yanmei says calmly. “Shen Yuan, you died in another world and your soul was placed into--into Mu Qingfang. You… your soul knows what you’re supposed to look like. And. The array, ah, expunged the former Mu Qingfang’s face.”

 

“What?” Mu Qingfang manages the world clearly at least. Shen Qingqiu takes his hand and intertwines their fingers.

 

“What Healer Xie is failing so spectacularly to say , is that the array essentially erased Mu Qingfang’s face and restored Shen Yuan ’s instead.” Shen Qingqiu says tersely. "You are supremely lucky that it did not erase you, leaving an empty shell behind."

 

“It removed the top layers of your skin, and reshaped the planes of your face.” Xie Yanmei confirms. “Your bone structure is different, the angle of your jaw, the shape of your nose…it's all different. Your eyes…even your hands…your arms. You have the same height, your cultivation is unchanged. But. When you are fully healed, you will not outwardly resemble Mu Qingfang any longer.”

 

What is he supposed to say to that? “Wow.”

 

“Quite.” Shen Qingqiu says. He exhales. “We’ve been keeping people away from your room.”

 

“Shen Yuan,” Xie Yanmei says seriously. “I need your permission to share this with Yanshin. Right now she’s running the peak, and it’s going to be a while before you’re able to use your body and senses the way you used to. She’s going to need to be able to speak with you, and the second she lays eyes on you, she will know .”

 

For a moment, Shen Yuan is eighteen again, newly diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis. He’s sitting at a doctor’s office talking with a Rheumatologist. 

 

“The rheumatoid arthritis will continue to progress,” the doctor says. “You won’t be able to use your hands the same way. But you will find a path forward. A different path than you once thought, perhaps, but a way forward nonetheless.”

 

He’s been through this before. 

 

“All right.” Mu Qingfang says. The room fills with an odd silence. He feels like they must be all looking at each other, perhaps making faces and mouthing words. He swallows. “You can, um. Have her come now, if she’s free.”

 

The pointed silence feels worse.

 

Carefully, Xie Yanmei says, “Of course Yanmei has time to see you. I will fetch her now. Excuse me.” Footsteps follow, and the sound of the door opening and closing.

 

Shen Qingqiu squeezes his hand. “A-Yuan should practise having more faith in his friends.”

 

“They were his friends first, A-Jiu,” Mu Qingfang replies quietly. “I wouldn’t blame them for…”

 

After a few moments, Shen Qingqiu says, “It’s easy to forget how young A-Yuan is. This… insecurity will fade with time.”

 

“Hey…” Mu Qingfang says weakly. He nearly died! No fair calling him out like this!

 

A brief knock on the door before it opens and two sets of footfalls enter. “I brought Wu Yanshin to see you,” Xie Yanmei says. “Yanshin…”

 

“Don’t worry,” Wu Yanshin says. “Qingfang, it’s good to see you. The last time I saw you, your entire face was covered in bandages. Are you having any pain?”

 

Mu Qingfang tries to frown, but his face just…won’t. “No, I’m. Not in any pain. Do you, ah. Have any questions?”

 

“Just one,” Wu Yanshin says. He hears the sound of cloth moving and imagines her crossing her arms over her chest. “Do you really think I’m such a fool that I somehow didn’t notice that your entire personality changed a few years ago?” She sighs, probably scrubbing a palm over her face. “Qingfang was my Shixiong, and a good one. We respected each other. He had a very dry sense of humor.”

She snorts. “He did not start arguments with the Sect Leader regularly. He did not make connections with almost every person he met. He didn’t poke his nose into everyone’s business on a daily basis. He was not capable of charming Peak Lord Shen into allowing a full examination.”

 

Hey! Mu Qingfang thinks. Rude . "I didn't charm him-"

 

Shen Qingqiu snorts.

 

“Nor,” Wu Yanshin continues, “Would he ever have taken a cultivation partner. He only provided dual cultivation because it was his duty to do so. But in most ways, Mu Shixiong kept very much to himself.” A long pause. “Does that sound anything like the man in front of me?”

 

Mu Qingfang stares at her, lips parted. It truly doesn’t. Has he been such a fraud the whole time?

 

“Five years ago, Mu Shixiong changed overnight.” Wu Yanshin says quietly. “He stayed behind at the pavilion working on paperwork, leaving near midnight. The next morning, the man that greeted me had a new light in his eyes, like everything was brand new. He smiled. He joked. He was so gentle with patients. He cared , so very much.” She lets that sink in. “So this healer has just one question for her current Mu Shixiong. Qingfang, what is your name ?” Wu Yanshin says. “Because I would like to think of my Shixiong properly, at long last.”

 

The walls of Mu Qingfang’s throat feel tight. He lifts his free hand in a little wave in her general direction. “Hi, Yanshin. I’m Shen Yuan. It’s really great to meet you.” 

 

Shen Qingqiu shifts, removing his hand, and then a smaller hand covers Mu Qingfang’s. “Shen Yuan,” Wu Yanshin says. “I’m five years too late, but. Welcome to Qian Cao peak.”

 

It feels like a damn breaks, and at last Shen Yuan is able to tell both of his friends how Mu Qing saved everyone at the Immortal Alliance Conference. It’s such a relief to express his thanks and admiration for the ascended god, and to hear stories about him from the two women that knew the former Mu Qingfang the best.

 

At the end of the conversation, Shen Yuan feels less like Mu Qing is a specter looking over him, and instead feels almost like the martial god is a kind of quasi-uncle. Stripped of his powers, cursed with mortality, Mu Qing did the best he could. And he did a lot of good while he was here.

 

After Wu Yanshin and Xie Yanmei leave, Mu Qingfang says, “I want to have a tablet made for him. And, there’s a hidden room in my house I want to show you, A-Jiu. We can put the tablet there and have a proper shrine for Mu Qing.”

 

Shen Qingqiu takes his hand and kisses it. “Yes,” he agrees. “That’s a good idea. We owe him much.”

 

*

 

“Keep your eyes closed while I remove the bandages,” Xie Yanmei says, and starts unraveling the gauze wrapped around Mu Qingfang’s face.

 

It’s been a week since he woke up and stayed up. The skin of his face is all healed. Mu Qingfang wants it known for the record, that being on this end of the snail mucin is not something he wants to repeat! The stench is horrible. 

 

Shen Qingqiu hadn’t complained at all , but Mu Qingfang still feels guilty about it. He’s pretty sure they’ll need to air out the Bamboo house soon.

 

Yanmei peels away the final layer of gauze and Mu Qingfang winces. Even through his eyelids, the light of the treatment room is too bright! “Don’t try to open your eyes yet, Shen Yuan. They’re all crusted together.”

 

Inwardly, he sighs. He can just imagine .

 

“At least the skin is healed,” Shen Qingqiu mutters. “A-Yuan, your face looked like ground meat before.”

 

Xie Yanmei pauses, and then Mu Qingfang feels the hum of a privacy barrier. His lips twitch. Is A-Jiu getting yelled at? In moments, the barrier drops and Shen Qingqiu says, “Apologies. The healers have done an exemplary job.”

 

“This will feel cold,” Xie Yanmei says primly, and then presses damp gauze to his closed eyelids. Slowly, she wipes away the layer of crust and at last Mu Qingfang is allowed to try opening his eyes.

 

The fact that he could see the light behind his lids was a good sign, and he’s hopeful when he opens his eyes. Unfortunately, he sees only too-bright blobs of color. Everything is just a blur. His eyes itch and he raises a hand, meaning to rub them.

 

“Ah!” Yanmei yelps. “No rubbing! Shen Qingqiu, you’ll need to watch him. His cornea was terribly scratched. Shen Yuan, you’re lucky you’re not blind! Keep those hands away from your face, or I’ll restrain them.”

 

She is not kidding in the slightest, Mu Qingfang knows. He huffs. “ Fine .”

 

“Don’t be a sulky boy, Yuan-er,” Shen Qingqiu tells him. “This is what happens when you do stupid things. Consider it a punishment.”

 

“Has Yue Qingyuan woken yet?” Mu Qingfang asks, while Xie Yanmei cleans up.

 

“Not yet,” She replies tightly. 

 

It’s been three weeks since they used the expungement array. Mu Qingfang lays his head back on the bed he’s reclining on.

 

“They say he’s sleeping,” Shen Qingqiu says quietly. “His golden core is much diminished, barely a spark.”

 

“He’s alive ,” Mu Qingfang says, just as quietly. “He has a chance. Where there’s life, there’s hope .”

Notes:

5 years ago

 

SY: GOOD MORNING! What are we doing today?

WYS: *blinks* Shizun?

SY: Who else!? *claps hands together* Let's go stomp out disease and pestilence somewhere!☺️

WYS: Oh-kay! *rolls with it*

Chapter 16

Summary:

This is SY angsty hours guys. CW for internalized ableism, vision impairment, near blindness, identity issues, body dysmorphia

Life goes on. Much like it did after he was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, Shen Yuan mentally separates it into before and after . And the after has been…difficult. Shen Qingqiu is doing his best, which includes a lot of hovering. It probably doesn’t help that Shen Qingqiu is also splitting his time by visiting Yue Qingyuan’s bedside either. Shen Yuan does not begrudge him doing that, it’s just that spending so much time by himself while he’s like this is… hard .

 

Shen Yuan’s vision isn’t getting much better. Oh, he can see a bit clearer, but he certainly can’t read . And faced with such a significant setback, his mood…well it hasn’t been great. 

 

He knows that his face has changed, that it’s essentially been resculptured back into Shen Yuan’s face. But when he looks in the mirror, he’s expecting to see, well, Mu Qingfang .

 

Looking into his pre-transmigration eyes is a mind fuck, plain and simple. Shen Yuan’s face hasn’t changed much since the, ah, expungement. It’s just that Mu Qingfang’s body had more muscle and flesh in general, and that carried over to the planes of Shen Yuan’s new and improved face.

 

Where once his cheekbones stood out starkly, now they’re softened and less harsh. His nose is wider, his lips slightly thinner, and his eyes are back to their usual dark brown. In short, Shen Yuan looks like a thousand other people.

 

He really misses Mu Qingfang’s lighter eyes, Shen Yuan thinks mournfully. He knows that A-Jiu liked them, too. Those are the eyes he fell in love with. The longer he stares at himself, at his new (old) face in the mirror, Shen Yuan feels like he doesn’t know who he is anymore.

 

Is he still the Qian Cao peak lord? Does he still get to use the title he hasn’t earned, just fell into? 

 

He doesn’t need the download to remember that back in the modern world husbands tend to leave their wives when the wife suffers a severe illness. Of course, Shen Qingqiu isn’t… and Shen Yuan isn’t a wife …

 

Repress! Repress!

 

If he can just keep his hands and body busy enough, he can stop his mind from the constant loop of anxiety rounding in his head.  He’s been pacing the bamboo house restlessly, feeling unmoored.

 

He misses when Shen Qingqiu looked at him like an equal, not a patient. His touches are impersonal now, clinical. Shen Yuan knows that A-Jiu would protest with his last breath, but Shen Yuan knows what it’s like, to be a burden, and it feels just like this.

 

With his vision impaired, he can’t safely work in his garden, either. Not with the kind of plants he grows. Wistfully, he thinks of his garden in the side yard of the Qian Cao house. He misses it. Missed feeling the earth under his fingers, the sun on his face.

 

Fuck, but he needs a drink. The medicine he’s taking for his eyes means that he can’t drink any alcohol, which is maybe for the best. The worst thing is that his cultivation is relatively unchanged. His spiritual sense remains strong. So, in theory he should still be able to care for patients. 

 

Shen Yuan digs his heels in during the second week of his recovery at home, instigating an argument.

 

“Absolutely not,” Shen Qingqiu says, setting his chopsticks down on the table. He’d been visiting with the still sleeping Sect Leader for most of the day. As the second in command of the sect, Shen Qingqiu has been busy helping with Qiong Ding issues as well as his own peak’s.

 

They’d been having a relatively silent dinner until Shen Yuan broached the topic of rejoining the outreach clinic with Xie Yanmei.

 

Shen Yuan doesn’t feel that he’s a particularly stubborn person, not in general. But his life is low key in shambles right now. And he needs to feel normal again. “I don’t need my eyes at one hundred percent to be able to diagnose renal failure,” Shen Yuan says stiffly. “Or malnutrition, or any of a thousand other conditions I can diagnose with my cultivation.” He looks across the table toward Shen Qingqiu. Instead of a crisp image he sees only the outline of the other man’s body: his dark hair, the gleam of his crown, the fuzzy outline of a teal robe. He can’t see his face clearly at all .

 

“And what happens if something goes sideways?” Shen Qingqiu demands. “If someone walks into a trap, or sends a curse at you, or you miss something ? A-Yuan, you act like I’m being difficult!” He raises his voice. “I am trying to keep you alive ! A fact you insist on ignoring!”

 

Shen Yuan curls his hand into a fist under the table. “I’m not a pet to be kept behind a safety gate,” he says bitterly. “I’m an adult, a Peak Lord , and a doctor . Sitting around like this, just--just existing --I won’t do it. Not again.”

 

A long beat of silence. No matter how hard he stares at Shen Qingqiu’s face, he can’t see his expression clearly enough to parse. “Fine,” Shen Qingqiu says, just when Shen Yuan thinks the tension may kill him. “Go back to your real life since just existing here with me feels like chains. You’re not the only one with problems, you know! I have no desire for you to force yourself to stay by my side. I trust you can make it back to your peak by yourself?” Shen Qingqiu doesn’t wait for a response, just stands and retreats to the bedroom. 

 

The door closes quietly after him.

 

Shen Yuan rises to his feet. All right. He can. He can just. Go back to the house on Qian Cao. He walks across the front room and opens the door. With one hand on the door and the other on the frame, he stands there, but he can’t make himself take that final step. Can’t make himself leave .

 

Dusk falls slowly, and Shen Yuan replays the conversation in his head like a record on repeat, trying to figure out where it all went so wrong.

 

Behind him the house remains stubbornly silent, even as the frogs and nocturnal insects call through the cover of darkness. 

 

At last, he shuts the door and sinks down to the floor. He rests his head in his hands and his back against the door. Instead of racing thoughts, his mind feels empty and numb.

 

Perhaps a shichen later, he hears the bedroom door open and footfalls across the house. 

 

“I thought you were leaving,” Shen Qingqiu says stiffly. He’s dressed in what’s probably inner robes. Maybe his hair is down. The light is so dim that Shen Yuan has no idea.

 

“I thought I was going to,” Shen Yuan says. His knees are drawn up and he wraps his arms around them. 

 

“Well, make up your mind,” Shen Qingqiu says harshly, arms crossed over his chest. “If you’re leaving, just go . I don’t want your pity .”

 

“I don’t pity you!” Shen Yuan raises his voice. “And I don’t actually want to walk away from you, A-Jiu! This-” He gestures to himself. “Is about me . And I am losing my mind just staying in the same place everyday, doing nothing, I can’t even read -” His voice breaks, and he looks away, wiping his cheeks with sharp motions.

 

Shen Qingqiu takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “Get up, A-Yuan. Come to bed. Things will feel better in the morning. And then…we’ll figure it out.”

 

Shen Yuan gets to his feet and starts to walk past Shen Qingqiu, but the other man catches his arm.

 

“A-Yuan.” Shen Qingqiu says simply. A moving shadow comes toward his face and Shen Yuan flinches. The shadow halts. “It’s just me.” Shen Qingqiu brushes his thumb over Shen Yuan’s cheek. “Tomorrow I will ask Xie Shimei to come by and see you. Now. Let’s get ready for bed.”

 

He follows listlessly, still feeling disconnected from everything. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t offer to brush his hair, or braid it for him. He doesn’t offer to help with his robes. He just lights more candles and uncovers the night pearls next to the bed.

 

Eventually, Shen Yuan’s hair is free of tangles and braided down. At last he climbs into bed, settling on his back and staring at the ceiling. Shen Qingqiu douses the candles, and covers the softly glowing nightpearls before getting into bed. His arm feels warm against Shen Yuan’s.

 

He doesn’t sleep right away, and he doesn’t think Shen Qingqiu is, either. But the other man’s breathing is steady and even. Shen Yuan turns over carefully, facing away. When the tears come he just lets them fall.

 

It feels like the longest night of his life. Of either of his lives. It feels like the sun will never rise, like the darkness will stay forever.

 

Sometime before dawn, Shen Qingqiu shifts, turning over, and draping an arm across Shen Yuan’s waist. He tucks his knees up behind Shen Yuan’s and wraps his body around his. And something breaks . Shen Yuan’s breath hitches and his eyes fill, and then he can’t stop crying. His shoulders shake with the effort to suppress his tears. Shen Qingqiu’s arm tightens.

 

“Let it out, A-Yuan, please .” Shen Qingqiu says into his ear. “You don’t talk to me anymore. And I…I admit, I don’t know how to help you. I thought you’d want to do things for yourself, that’s why…” He swallows. “But that just made things worse. A-Yuan, I’m barely keeping myself together. Tell me how to help you.”

 

The things in his head are so terrible, how’s he supposed to talk about them? Doesn’t giving them voice give them power ?

 

“A-Jiu,” Shen Yuan says at last, voice thick and shaking, “Don’t leave me.”

 

“ Leave you-- ” Shen Qingqiu sounds shocked. He sits up in the bed, gets his hands under Shen Yuan’s body and physically lifts him up into his arms. “No one is leaving anyone!” He takes Shen Yuan’s wrist in his grip. “We’re going to Qian Cao. You’re not all right.”

 

A whoosh of Shen Qingqiu’s qi lights the candles, and he bundles Shen Yuan into an outer robe. In moments, Shen Qingqiu sweeps Shen Yuan into his arms and then they’re out the door, flying over the peaks. Shen Yuan buries his face in Shen Qingqiu’s neck, and holds on. That’s all he can do.

 

*

 

It’s the middle of the night, and normally, Mu Qingfang would be the guy they wake up for this. He gets Wu Yanshin instead.

 

“I was already here,” she explains while Shen Qingqiu paces restlessly through the treatment room. After perching on the side of the bed, Wu Yanshin takes Shen Yuan’s wrist and scans him. It would be nice to be able to see her expression, but he can’t! She finishes quickly, laying his arm back on the bed, and patting his hand. “Well, Shizun, you’re a mess.” Her tone is matter of fact.

 

“Not sleeping, not eating. Qingfang…are you thinking of hurting yourself?” Wu Yanshin’s question is blunt. Shen Qingqiu stops pacing and Shen Yuan feels the weight of the other man’s stare.

 

Shen Yuan moistens his lips. “Not. Not really.”

 

“ Not REALLY ?” Shen Qingqiu cries. “What the fuck does that mean, A-Yuan?”

 

Sinking deeper into the bed, Shen Yuan hunches. The doctor part of him knows, he knows he shouldn’t feel ashamed of this weakness, and yet he is powerless to stop it. His voice is barely audible. “It means that some days I just want to sleep.” He picks at the sheets, looking away. “I can’t see anyone’s face, I can’t do anything that I care about, I can’t read -” Once again, it’s that last thing that breaks his voice.

 

Even when he had nothing else, bedbound by pain, he could read. It was his only escape. What’s he supposed to do if…? “Yanshin. I can’t live like this.”

“Peak Lord Shen, can you step outside for a few minutes?” Wu Yanshi says.

 

“A-Yuan-” Shen Qingqiu starts.

 

“It’s…it’s okay, A-Jiu,” Shen Yuan manages. “It will be a few minutes.”

 

He feels Shen Qingqiu fuming. “Fine.”  He leaves, drawing the door closed behind him.

 

“I’m bringing a chair over to the bed, Qingfang,” Wu Yanshin says. Moments later, she settles down. “All right. Now. I can think of a few things that might be making you feel so depressed. Shall I start?”

 

Mu Qingfang snorts a little. “Go ahead.”

 

“First,” Wu Yanshin says crisply. “You’re having a severe identity crisis. The facial changes alone would be enough to send anyone spiraling. On top of that, you have a new disability, and you are experiencing uncertainty around that. I’m going to take a guess that you feel useless, right now. Useless, restless, unloveable, shall I go on?”

 

Mu Qingfang feels a lot like Yanshin just beat him about the head with a hammer. “I mean, yeah, all of that. But also-” He swallows. He’s never been good about expressing his feelings. Not in his other life, and certainly not in this one. “I don’t know who I am anymore, Yanshin. If I can’t be a doctor, what’s the point of me?”

 

A long silence. Then Wu Yanshin exhales heavily. “Your worth as a person does not depend on your being a physician. And as the leading physician in the Jianghu, I know that you know that.” Mu Qingfang imagines her brow wrinkling in thought. “The truth is I don’t know that you’re not suffering some kind of after effect from the expungement array. Peak Lord Wei mentioned that it used to be known as some kind of punishment chamber. It’s possible the punishment was two-fold. That in addition to severing the sword bond, perhaps it sets heart demons free.”

 

“Heart demons,” Mu Qingfang echoes. “Before. In my other life, I took medication to help with depression and anxiety.” He snorts. “Literally, they were called anti-depressants.”

 

“Qingfang, you do recall that we can treat depression, right?” Wu Yanshin says gently. “After the events of the Immortal Alliance Conference last year, we treated a large number of sect members for insomnia, anxiety and depression.” She adds more pointedly, “If you talked to Shang Qinghua about it, I’m sure he would have told you.”

 

All at once, Mu Qingfang realises that he did know that! Because Shang Qinghua had talked about it, a little bit.

 

“Is there a reason you haven’t reached out to any of your friends?” Wu Yanshin asks softly. “I checked with Yanmei, and she said she hasn’t heard from you. I must offer apologies, Qingfang. I assumed that your insight was not affected. This Wu will do better in the future.”

 

Throat tight, Mu Qingfang manages, “I was trying to get by without bothering anyone.”

 

“I see,” Wu Yanshin says, sounding distinctly amused. “I took the liberty of sending a message to Peak Lord Shang.”

 

“Qinghua? For what?” Mu Qingfang feels stupid. For company? It would be great but surely, he’s so busy planning his wedding-

 

“Has Qingfang forgotten that Shang Qinghua has long been responsible for sourcing unusual treasure items?” Through fuzzy vision, he watches Yanshin lean forward. “I feel fairly certain Shang Qinghua will have some ideas for you.”

 

“Fuck,” Mu Qingfang says, ashamed. “That never even occurred to me. I’m so stupid.”

 

“No. You’re overwhelmed, and depressed, and tired . Don’t think I couldn’t tell you haven’t been sleeping.” Wu Yanshin says. “Any healer would see at a glance. You’re lucky Yanmei didn’t hunt you down and make you submit to an exam like she used to do to Shen Shixiong. And speaking of him, I’m actually going to tell Xie Yanmei to go find him and do just that. Qingfang, he’s as bad as you are. Except in his case, he’s trying to be strong for you and the sect leader, and he probably feels like he’s failing at both.”

 

“I know ,” Mu Qingfang says, just above a whisper. “It’s part of why I’ve been trying not to lean on him too much.”

 

“Qingfang,” Wu Yanshin replies, after a moment. “You’re supposed to depend on your loved ones. That’s what family is .”

 

*

 

Yanshin returns after a short while with some medicine. One by one, she lays out a row of cups until there’s three of them on the bedside table. “This one is for qi stagnation. This Xiaoyao is for spleen deficiency.” She points to number three. “For depression, we have Yueju, which should start helping immediately. In addition to that, we’ll begin acupuncture treatment daily for a week and reassess.” She pauses. “Qingfang, I think you should remain here at the Pavilion so we can monitor your condition closely. That way, we can make sure you’re sleeping.”

 

Mu Qingfang downs the Yueju first. Then the treatment for qi stagnation, followed by the Xiaoyao. He wrinkles his nose. “That was awful.”

 

Snorting, Yanshin’s hand crinkles, then she shoves a milk candy under his nose. “Eat that, you’ll feel better.”

 

He scowls, but does as he’s told. The sweetness does help, damn her.

 

“Good Shizun,” Wu Yanshin says more cheerfully, and pats his head. “See? You’re not such a terrible patient. It’s just getting you here that’s the problem. You’ll feel sleepy in a little while, try to get a nap before Peak Lord Shang visits you later.” She crosses to the doorway. “Accupuncture tonight, it will help you sleep.”

 

*

 

Between one blink and the next there’s a skip in memory. Shen Yuan doesn’t know if he slept, or just dissociated hard enough to lose time. But either way, when he comes back to himself, he’s not alone.

 

“-blame you for taking a load off bro, everyone knows you’ve been super stressed about the sword thing. Listen, don’t worry about your eyes, if it comes to that I have a bunch of ideas. Mobei-Jun already said he’d take me where ever. I think he has the idea it could be like a romantic getaway.”

 

“Qinghua,” Shen Yuan croaks, and Shang Qinghua sits up straighter. Shen Yuan can’t see his face, just the silhouette of his head and shoulders. A warm hand touches his, and squeezes. 

 

“Cucumber!” Shang Qinghua sounds relieved. “Bro, I’m so glad you’re awake. Wu Shimei filled me in, so I started making a list of stuff that might help. First, is the obvious. We could ask Binghe to give you some of his blood. On the off chance that doesn’t work, there’s always the Celestial Carrots that live in that one hidden realm, you know, the one that wife, uh, four hundred and sixty three? Yeah! That one! You’re in good company, you know, because something kinda similar happened to Bing-ge once.”

 

Cracking a wry smile, Shen Yuan says, “It was four hundred and twenty three, you hack author.” His words lack bite, but even so, Shang Qinghua’s voice falters.

 

“Listen, bro.” That hand squeezes his again, and Shen Yuan holds it tight. “We’re gonna fix this,” Airplane Shooting Toward the Sky says, firmly. “Because I’m the local Author God, and I say so . You hear me, Cucumber bro?”

 

Turning over on his side, Shen Yuan blinks rapidly. He swallows over the lump that’s made a home in his throat. It feels like a rock. When he speaks, his voice shakes. “Okay, Airplane.”

 

 

Notes:

You guys. I have two new kittens! A Maine Coon and a baby Ragdoll. They both had upper respiratory infections requiring multiple vet visits, and so I've been working overtime to pay for them. I'm so tired, and not doing great, but the kitties are getting better. All of this to say, I haven't felt like writing much. *Hugs all of you tight*.

Please tell me what you think!

SY/MQF: I don't know who I am anymore. Am I still me if I can't be a doctor? Is there even anything to love?

SQQ: *blinking rapidly* A-Yuan, I'm trying SO HARD not to have a breakdown...

WYS: WTF you both are HOT MESSES *rolls up sleeves* I'm calling in reinforcements

SQH: *arrives* Oh, shit. Okay, yeah. Daddy's home!

 

Come say hi to me on Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/ehann.bsky.social

Notes:

Hello friends!!!! For the record, I had no intention of continuing this as a series BUT THEN, *someone* (me) decided to see if I could get to 500 followers on Twitter. Surely this will take a while, I thought at 480.

So I might as well sweeten the pot and tempt people with some extras. I should had had more faith.

LO AND BEHOLD, I hit 500 within 16 hours. WTF. You guys. Are so very sweet.

Anyway- after some thinking about it, I decided that SQH needed some love. And it would be good to answer the question so many people asked me "WTF was up with MBJ??!!"

Why was he so OP? So SCARY!!!! And MEAN!! Why did he hurt SQH so badly?

 

(it was plot reasons)

 

What do you think?? I need to know!!!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Regardless of the Hardships