Chapter Text
A grey haze was haunting the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. Rain clouds obscured by its sister fog hung low to the ground and gleefully soaked any individual that dared to walk under it. Sitting in a small covered pavilion on the far side of the An Ding peak, smoke from a pipe shared between two easily hidden in the oppressive fog and herbs relaxing his mind and body, Shang Yun found a vague detached amusement in watching other disciples brave the rain in a noble effort to finish tasks and duties assigned to them and get soaked for their efforts.
The weather was fitting, Shang Yun thought privately. The rain creates a veil of privacy between himself and Shen Jiu, propped up behind him and only indulged in the herbs Shang Yun stuffs in his pipe because of aching bones the man tries his best to pretend don't bother him. The wind will sweep any secrets shared between them, keeping things shared between the two of them only. Melancholy hangs in the autumn air. No matter the details, today will likely be the day in which he loses the only person he can't fool himself into pretending he doesn't care about.
He inhales, smoke hitting his lunges, before loosely holding it out in Shen Jiu's general direction for the man to take. It's for the best, Shang Yun knows. His goal is to drive Shen Jiu from the sect. The man is the biggest threat to his position as a spy despite their tentative not quite friendship. The paranoid bastards is actually more likely to dig into any transgression Shang Yun may or may not have done. Shen Jiu also has been gathering nothing sort of an army of spies and investigators both on and off peak in preparation for him taking over the peak in the next couple of years. Shen Jiu, rightly, won't let Shang Yun see his plans for his peak but from what he was able to gather it would outright be a nightmare to have to work around.
And in some deeper hidden part of him that got almost completely killed off after that disastrous mission when he was freshly a disciple, Shang Yun could admit that he cared, just a little, just enough, to not want to see Shen Jiu hang himself on a noose braided through his loyalty.
Behind him, Shen Jiu shuffles around, eventually pulling himself to his feet and sitting back down next to Shang Yun and takes the offered item. Shang Yun lazily eyes the slowly darkening bruises covering Shen Jiu's neck and wrists. At least the broken nose and black eye had been taken care of. By the mans own supplies, no doubt.
Liu Minghui, no doubt. Or maybe Ji Jiu, if he was finished licking his wounds from the last time he bothered Shen Jiu at the Warm Red Pavilion and promptly chased out. Looking into Shen Jiu's eyes, it had unnerved him in the beginning just how little light Shen Jiu's eyes seemed to let light in, always the same flat black, it didn't seem like the man wanted to talk about it so Shang Yun let it go.
For now. He had his own methods of getting the Bai Zhan succeeding disciple back on his friends behalf.
He waited until Shen Jiu had lifted the mouth piece to his lips and inhaled to speak. "You could just leave, you know." The statement hung in the air. Nothing about Shen Jiu's expression changed, and he blew smoke out lazily. It was moments like this that Shang Yun missed the time before Shen Jiu had iron clad control over his expressions. At least in the beginning, even if his eyes gave nothing away, his face would.
This was uncharted territory for the both of them. Shang Yun wasn't actually sure anyone had ever suggested such a thing to the man. Once he showed up feral and bleeding everyone had kind of assumed he was here to stay, including Shen Jiu who then made it his mission to carve out a tolerable existence and station for himself.
The silence that stretches tells Shang Yun that the idea of leaving had occurred to Shen Jiu before. Probably played in the back of the mans mind more then he'd ever admit, even to himself. "Your cultivation is good, considering, well considering everything." He continues waving a hand lazily. "Another sect would take you, should you want to continue to torture yourself with the politics of the cultivation world. Or you could fuck off and do your own thing. Wandering cultivators get paid well enough."
Most wandering cultivators accumulated a small fortune each year. It just so happens that most of them also spent a small fortune on gambling, women and wine each year. Shang Yun doubted such a fate would befall his friend.
Shen Jiu inhales around the pipe again, turns and blows the exhale smoke directly into Shang Yun's face, causing him to wrinkle his nose. Petty, as always. He didn't know what he was expecting.
"Sects won't take me. Too complicated to poach even an inner disciple of a peak, let alone a succeeding disciple. That's assuming Shizun wouldn't just immediately demand my return, willing or otherwise."
The response is quite and spoken low, almost as if the words themselves are afraid to be spoken. The flippant tone does not do a very good job of distracting from this.
"And something tells me Liu Minghui won't be deterred from his favourite play thing just because I leave. Even better for him, gives him another reason to call me an honourless dog and try to bring me to heel over it." Shen Jiu finishes, unamused and flat, staring into the fog as if the source of most of his injuries since arriving at the sect was about to materialise from the fog. Granted, Shen Jiu has dished out his fair share back. Liu Minghui was just as often walking around with injuries of his own, showing them off.
Shang Yun was aware of the wide gap between what Shen Jiu assumes their relationship is, and what the young War God assumed their relationship was, but he had kept his mouth shut on purpose. It would eventually pull Shang Yun apart, trying to maintain that gap between the two of them, but not if Shen Jiu left before the strain even truly started in earnest.
"And if I told you I could give you a head start?"
The question hung in the air, suspended by the curiosity colouring Shen Jiu's features. Shang Yun did not make promises without keeping them. In that, they held in common. Tempting the scholar with information. Shang Yun knew the tiger he was taunting.
"Our generation will fall apart if I leave. They'd barely listen to you, the brute is strong enough to ward off outright attacks but politically we'd flounder. Yue Qi is far too passive." Shen Jiu responds
"They aren't going to listen to you."
The silence hangs just a bit too long.
"You don't know that."
He pulls a bundle of letters from inside his robe, tied up neatly together with a small silk ribbon, navy blue in colour. He doesn't say anything. Doesn't try to plead his case to the other man. Just places the letters in the space between the two of them and pulls back.
There are three documents tied up in that ribbon.
The first was a written letter from Yue Qi, sent to all of the head disciples except for Shen Jiu. Shang Yun can only assume the man was attempting to fix the most recent cracks in the relationship between their generation. Some altercation between Hua Hua Palace and the head disciple of the Feng Shou peak, that Shen Jiu stepped in on. It's no secret that Shen Jiu had been attempting to separate the sect from its previous entanglements with Hua Hua, although the why was not quite known. Most of their generation was not particularly offended by his handling of it, but the letter sent out by their future leader had made Shen Jiu and his actions look pathetic, vindictive and poorly thought out. If Shang Yun didn't know any better, he'd think the letter was a deliberate attempt to undermine Shen Jiu and his position.
Shen Jiu's loyalty to the man ran deeper then Shang Yun would ever understand. He seemed to pretend that the man's actions undermining his own did not exist, or perhaps as mistakes.
He took the pipe out of Shen Jiu's hands as the other picked up the letters. He flipped the pipe over and tapped out the burnt herbs. The problem with being friends with the sort of men they both are, he muses in his own head, is that they both knew how the other person worked on some fundamental level. They were each others biggest threat on this cursed mountain.
It also meant they knew exactly where to push.
The second document being gripped in Shen Jiu's hands was fake. It would take more then the first letter to break the iron chain between Shen Jiu and Yue Qi. But this one might finally shatter it.
Yue Qi writing a letter to Liu Minghui, promising to take a heavier hand in making sure Shen Jiu stayed in line. Neither of them penned or received such a letter of course. Liu Minghui might have duelled the future sect leader over it if it where true, but since most notes, mail and memos went through Ah Ding, it certainly didn't take much to fake the same meandering and overly polished style of Yue Qi.
The final document was simple. Detailed instructions on how to cut ties with the sect. A list of secret caches hidden around. A list of what was in them. A quick escape route. A way out, quickly and quietly and almost foolproof. Originally, Shang Yun was holding it as his own way out, in case his position as a spy was found, and he had to make a quick exit. But he could rebuild it. He was willing to put himself in that position, if it meant Shen Jiu would leave.
The problem with escape is too many people think about it too long. It's why they never succeed in escape. If Shen Jiu had the chance to leave immediately, without needing to think or plan too much, the chances of him actually getting out tilted in his favour.
"The sect will survive without you. Our generation will march on without a Peak Lord on Qing Jing. The hall masters will take over the running of the peak. Our martial siblings will move on." Shang Yun whispered into the cold air. Looking over the sect from their vantage point, the fog obscures the edge of the mountain, but a world exists beyond the fog.
Shen Jiu's hands grip the papers tightly.
"As your martial sibling, I think you should leave. As your friend, I hope you do. I'm sure you have plans bigger then what the sect will let you achieve." He speaks louder this time. Tries to keep the shake out of his voice. He stands, straightening his robes and looks down at Shen Jiu once more.
Heavens, he looks so small like this, staring out into the rain and fog like it will deliver an answer.
The rain almost drowns his parting words out.
"For what its worth, I'll miss you."