Chapter Text
Mu Qingfang was still alive. The world had changed, irrevocably so, and yet his existence persisted against his will. Lord Luo had been so kind as to spare him for his past help to the disciple. Not that he had gotten any choice. One moment Cang Qiong Mountain was burning and the next he awoke in the palace the half-demon called home.
The demon lord had graciously explained his new role here. Do as he says, teach the other healers around here, tend to the servants and wives. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend nothing had changed and he was still back in Cang Qiong Mountain Sect on Qian Cao Peak, attending to his regular duties. But nothing would ever erase the screams of his former disciples from his mind. Nor the pictures of his martial siblings, skewered and slaughtered with no mercy. Only he remained. Well, him, and Shen-shixiong in the prison.
Occasionally he had been tasked to ensure Shen-shixiong’s survival. Lord Luo had stood and watched every time, ensuring he couldn't possibly free his martial sibling from the grisly prolonged torture. He lost count of how many times he had reattached arms and legs just for the demon lord to bereave his shixiong of his limbs again. All of these practices broke every oath he took upon joining Qian Cao as physician, every vow he made upon his ascension to peak lord. Yet the heavenly demon’s blood mites ensured he’d do his work, whether he wanted to or not.
Mu Qingfang had once hoped to escape the fate of being sold into slavery by joining Cang Qiong Mountain. He had sought to save his sickly sister’s life, get her away from their neglectful parents. Yet here he was, no better than the servants at the beck and call of the demon emperor, reduced to a mere slave with the wretched blood mites. He failed his martial siblings, just like he failed his sister. Perhaps this was meant to be. Mu Qingfang really was quite useless after all.
If he closed his eyes, everything was as it had always been. He taught classes to the other physicians in the palace and those who came from afar alike, he took care of patients. Harem drama would lead to more patients. He would look at his tools, his knives, his medicine supplies and contemplate whether the emperor would let him slip away. Sometimes the emperor would call upon him, and he’d do as told, his emotionless polite smile mirroring the emptiness he felt deep down these days. With some luck, he wouldn’t have to attend to what remained of Shen-shixiong.
Unfortunately (or now fortunately, maybe?), he wasn’t as close with the prickly man as he would have liked to be once upon a time. Mu Qingfang had always been curious about this martial sibling of his, but no attempts of slowly approaching him had ever worked. Instead, Shen-shixiong always pushed him away, further and further away as he had with all his martial siblings. Despite the whispers from the others, Mu Qingfang knew a former street urchin when he saw one. As Shen Jiu grew into Shen Qingqiu, he cleaned away any habits that might give him away, but Mu Qingfang had seen the shadows that clung to his eyes, the desperation and ruthlessness with which he fought. The flinches at the touch of others the healer himself had fought to unlearn. The malnourishment that plagued his shixiong upon sect entry. He had seen the same in various patients, in his older siblings, and sometimes even himself. He had no idea what kind of life Shen Jiu had lived up until the sect, but his instincts and what he had glanced from the other’s meridians painted an ugly picture. One he had seen in patients from down the mountain.
He had wanted to reach out to Shen-shixiong, in hopes of finally having someone who’d understand. Someone who didn’t come from a privileged family with no struggles under their belt. Someone who would understand, someone who would not judge yet be able to listen and not mock. Cang Qiong wasn’t a home, merely a place to eat, sleep and work.
Not always Mu Qingfang was able to help his patients and martial siblings. Shen Qingqiu was one of those cases. No matter what he tried, Shen Qingqiu avoided him at all costs. Perhaps he hadn’t tried hard enough, perhaps he hadn’t pushed enough when Luo Binghe kept coming to Qian Cao in a horrible state. Maybe neither of them would be here now. Not that Shen Qingqiu was mentally present these days, much to the emperor’s frustration. He had been gone since Zhangmen-Shixiong was slain, some particular wives whispered, only a husk remained, forcefully kept alive. Perhaps thankfully, this had led to the demon lord losing interest in his prisoner.
Mu Qingfang sighed and put down the brush that had been slipping out of his hands regardless so he wouldn’t create a mess. He had made no progress in his reports, the ink on his brush long since dried. Hopefully that would be alright, it wasn’t like the emperor had been in the palace this week. His head slowly went down to rest on his desk. As per usual, he was plagued by a tiredness that wouldn’t budge no matter how much he slept.
He should have perished with Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, he thought idly as his eyes slipped closed against his will.
A shout startled Mu Qingfang right out of his dreamless and restless sleep. He shot up in his chair, whirling to the intruder - only to see Ning Yingying, one of Lord Luo’s favored wives and once a disciple of Qing Jing Peak, now desperately flinging herself towards him. She was crying hysterically, rambling incoherently as she clung to his robes. Numbly he began to disentangle her hands from his robes, leading her to a chair in the corner of his office. He gently admonished her not to cling to other men as such other than her husband out of habit, not that the words would reach her at the moment. Or ever did, really, for she had a habit of seeking comfort from him as a daughter would of her father.
Carefully, he took her wrist and started examining her meridians. As expected from her state, she was on the brink of a qi deviation, so he set to passing her qi. Only once her frantic sobbing had calmed down to mere sniffles, did he dare inquire about her very sudden late night visit to his office.
“What has you in such a state close to qi deviation, Consort Ning?”
Much to his shock however, the girl- no, woman now - before him broke out into disturbing laughter.
“I killed shush- I killed him Mu-shishu!” She laughed with an insane grin. She shook her head, burying it in her hands as she mumbled her last sentence over and over again.
“Now I’ve told you not to address me as that anymore, the emperor said-” He monotonously answers out of habit before her words fully register in his mind.
“You-What, do you mean-”
“Yes! Shizun, shushu, the Husk my oh so gracious husband has been keeping in the basement!” Ning Yingying interjected, the mad glint to her eyes not fading.
Stupefied, Mu Qingfang could only stare at her in silence. Now that he was more awake, he noticed the state of her robes - he noted they’re robes more suited for nighthunts than a consort’s elegant and delicate dresses - the splatter of blood on her boots and hem of her robes.
“You… you really did? But- the emperor, he won’t be pleased-” He starts, only to be interrupted once again.
“I don’t care! I could no longer stand this! Shizun had never been kind to him, but what justice is there in keeping a corpse alive?! So I set shushu free. He was basically gone anyway.” She spat, her laughter morphed from desperation to a simmering rage.
‘Ah. She is every bit her father’s daughter.’, Mu Qingfang thinks to himself. In her anger and seething she resembled every bit the now late Shen Qingqiu, at least from the vague memories from a very long time ago that Mu Qingfang carried. Everyone had always judged her to be naive, sheltered, fragile. But looking at her now he realized this couldn’t be further from the truth. It must be a facade, so she would be underestimated. With a sinking feeling, Mu Qingfang realized that Shen-shixiong must have instructed her before the fateful trials. Even so, it seems Ning Yingying seems to have been aggrieved by the state of affairs with the prisoner. He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling his headache rearing up. Ah, what a mess this was.
“I thought as one of…the prisoner’s victims… you wouldn’t be opposed.” He carefully attempted to prod against his better judgement. Consort Ning’s qi flared again at his words, so he just silently reached for one of her wrists again and continued to pass qi to keep her from tumbling over the precarious edge she had been walking this entire time. The silence stretched as she tried to keep her breathing calm and even.
“No, I had never been a victim. Shizun was my shushu, he never laid a hand on me. I realize now he had a lot of issues, but despite what the others have tried to convince me of, I do not think shushu would have ever hurt me. He gave A-niang an oath about it, and he never breaks his promises. Besides, he always treated A-niang and the jiejies down the mountain so well. But now, there is nothing left of shizun, nothing at all.” She sneered, letting out another huff of laughter. “Shushu didn’t even recognize me. His remaining eye stared into the void. He barely made a noise when I picked up the sword shards lying around and slit his throat.”
Mu Qingfang numbly nods, finally being able to stop passing qi to the girl. Her descriptions of Shen-shixiong were on par with Mu Qingfang’s observations from the last few times he’d been asked to tend to the husk in the basement. He shoved away the casual revelations about Shen-shixiong for later examination.
“You… did well. He’d be grateful.” He concluded, unable to help the sense of relief that washed over him like a tidal wave. Shen-shixiong was finally dead. He’d likely never have to attend to him again. The Emperor had long since lost interest, after all. You have no more reason to persist, a treacherous voice in the back of his mind whispered. Mu Qingfang closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As he opened them again his face was reset to a gentle but hollow smile. He couldn’t leave this realm just yet, he still had to keep Ning Yingying safe from the emperor’s certain rage at the discovery.
“You know that the Emperor won’t be pleased, I assume?” He ventured.
“Of course. Maybe if I’m lucky he’ll send me to the underworld to see shizun aga-”
“NO!”
The outburst shocked both him and Ning Yingying into silence. He cleared his throat and attempted to regain his composure.
“I mean… I cannot allow that, Consort Ning. I have been made to swear to protect and treat you and the wives. I will talk to Lord Luo. Shen-shi- I mean, the prisoner wouldn’t want you to follow him so soon.” He tried to reason.
Ning Yingying was staring at him with a calculating gaze, searching… Was she concerned? No, that would be silly.
“Mu-shishu shouldn’t, it’s this one’s fault after all. It wouldn’t be right.” She eventually replied, every bit composed as a lady of her standing should be. It seemed he wasn't the only poser in the room.
“Mayhaps not, but you have nothing to be guilty about. Let this doctor deal with the Emperor. It will be alright.” He tried to smile reassuringly, but from Consort Ying’s expression he realized it was likely merely an empty grimace.
“And if he executes you?” She raises, her brows knitting together ever so slightly.
“No matter, that will be okay. It will not be your fault.” He rebutted her with a pat on the shoulder. Ah, she was no longer a little disciple. Was that appropriate? Probably not, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“Why would you want to throw your life away like this Mu-shishu?”
“Nonsense, this healer will be alright. The Lord Emperor still has uses for this one.” 'Unfortunately, but one can hope he wouldn't care now if I slipped away.’ He doesn’t add, only helping her up as he ushered her out of his office.
“It is time that you went back before others start to question what you are doing in my office for so long.”
Honestly, if the emperor chose to dispose of him, that would be just fine. ‘Not like I have any reason for living anymore anyway.’ Mu Qingfang muses.
As it turned out, the emperor would stay gone a while longer. During that time, the palace was almost peaceful, and Mu Qingfang could once again pretend things were as they had always been. He was just a kind and dependable healer like people needed him to be.
That was until Luo Binghe stumbled into the palace through a portal, looking frazzled and worried out of his mind. When Mu Qingfang ran into him, he was shouting about “Shizun” this and “Shizun” that, asking everyone where he’d find this Shizun of his. Seemingly none of the palace attendants had answered his worried pleas, so he was now shaking Mu Qingfang’s shoulders, who had the misfortune to be out in the halls on his way back to his office after a day in the harem clinic.
“Where’s Shizun?!” He growled at the tired doctor. As Mu Qingfang struggled to form a coherent thought in his utterly sleep deprived mind, this odd Luo Binghe had already cursed under his breath and taken off down the corridor. By the time he could utter ‘In the basement, where he always is’, it was too late. He owlishly blinked after the demon lord, wondering just what had gotten into his mind. It was almost like this hadn’t been the same person as Lord Luo. Come to think of it, his demonic aura did not feel exactly the same. He was also taller and more muscular than Mu Qingfang remembered him, wavy, well-cared for locks of hair instead of the straight hair the emperor usually wore, though all that may be attributed to his own faulty memory.
Nothing came out of the encounter, as the strange Luo Binghe vanished as soon as he had arrived, leaving only confused servants and attendants in his wake. Although, they would not have to wait long for the Lord to return and create a whole new slew of questions.
A shichen later, a raging Emperor would grace the palace with his distressed presence, a brand new outer robe upon his shoulders that looked suspiciously like a Qing Jing uniform. He proceeded to ignore everyone and everything, even roughly brushing off his most loyal right-hand man, Mobei-Jun, despite the uncharacteristic display of worry of the stoic demon. Instead, he rushed off into the basement, where his most precious prisoner was kept.
It didn’t even take half an incense time for the Emperor to re-emerge, now even angrier and bloodier. Without any preamble, he walked off to Ning Yingying’s rooms, the oppressive demonic aura around him sending all servants scrambling out of his way lest they be obliterated for their efforts. The ice demon slunk off towards the chief healer’s office.
Mobei-Jun wasn’t a common visitor in Mu Qingfang’s office. Indeed, the formidable ice demon hardly ever required the efforts of a healer. Yet, here he stood as he informed the healer of what had just occurred in the mainhalls of the palace. The healer had been too engrossed in his staples of paperwork to notice the commotion. The ice king had barely even finished his report that Mu Qingfang had already gathered several qiankun pouches with supplies, cursing under his breath and hurried out of his office to Consort Ying’s rooms at full speed. He had a distinct feeling he knew why the emperor went to visit the consort.
And indeed he could not have hurried here quick enough, as he brushed past the emperor without any regard for his own life and stopped in front of him, blocking his way to Ning Yingying.
“Stop, please! She is not to blame!” Mu Qingfang shouted out. Behind him, Ning Yingying let out a shocked “Mu-shishu!”
“You dare interfere?!” Luo Binghe roared out, a clawed hand violently lifting Mu Qingfang off his feet by his throat.
“It is my fault, not Consort Ying’s! The culprit you’re looking for is me! I neglected my duties and.. allowed the… prisoner to die…” He ground out, uselessly clawing at the hand constricting around his throat.
“Pah! Do you think this lord this foolish?! I KNOW it was that wretched wife of mine, why are you attempting to cover for her?! Have the two of you dared to go behind this lord’s back?!”
Mu Qingfang was speechless. Did the emperor just accuse Ning Yingying and him… having an affair?? Bile rose from Mu Qingfang’s stomach as he fought the urge to vomit while trying to calm his restricted breathing. It would be best not to inform the half demon that half of his wives were cheating on him with each other at this point. Sha Hualing especially enjoyed bedding Liu Mingyan, not that the two would inform the emperor of such. And frankly, the former peak lord wished he knew less of the harem affairs than he did.
“Nonsense.. your… Highness.. knows-of this… humble.. healer’s… preferences.”
This got him thrown across the room in disgust. ‘Worth it.’, Mu Qingfang numbly thought as he coughed and wheezed from where he landed sprawled on the floor. Indeed, the emperor had… investigated his memories once before and seen Mu Qingfang’s preference for the male gender. This, combined with his aversion to dual cultivation, had made him a perfect choice for a harem healer.
“What is wrong with you!” Ning Yingying screamed at the emperor in utter disbelief as she ran over to the fallen doctor.
Mu Qingfang let her help him back up into a more dignified kneeling pose. “I am fine, thank you Lady Ning.” He coughed out as he patted the girl on the shoulder reassuringly. Meanwhile, the emperor was looming over them, Xin Mo out of its sheath and emitting wisps of furious energy.
At the sight, something seemed to snap inside of Ning Yingying, her eyes narrowing in silent rage as she summoned her own spiritual sword into her hands and rose to meet the demon lord who had now raised Xin Mo.
“You dare.”, she sneered as she formed a few sword seals deftly with her hands so that her sword would parry Xin Mo in its swing. Luo Binghe let out a surprised grunt as he jumped back, not having anticipated for his wife to oppose him so, much less start actively fighting him. But she was not deterred, stepping in front of Mu Qingfang, her robes billowing with her swift steps. She continued her assault as Luo Binghe was forced into the defensive, yet unwilling to fight perhaps one of his dearest wives. Sword glares filled the room as she screamed and continued to form seals, the very picture of the late Shen Qingqiu in her anger.
“I TRUSTED YOU! Even loved you! Yet you lied and spun words as needed, never a sincere thought with you! Is nothing ever enough for your revenge?! You ravaged Cang Qiong, you slaughtered the innocent all for a pointless farce!” Furious tears were running down her round cheeks as she vented her every frustration about the emperor to his face, not once letting up in her attacks.
“You are never even around, and if you are it’s only to leave another wife in the harem you will not even look at! Do you know the messes me and Mingyan-jie were cleaning up for you?! Mu-shishu has been nothing but loyal to you, even after you dragged him here clearly against his will! And yet a stupid diversion is enough for you to dispose of him! Is this how you repay your debts?! I am DONE with you Luo Binghe, done!!” With a last shout of frustration she directed her sword back into its scabbard. She took a deep breath, furiously wiped her tears, tied the sword on her waist and turned away from the stupefied emperor.
“I am leaving before the morning comes. I never want to see you ever again. We are no longer husband and wife, there is nothing you can do to change my mind.”
“Ning Yingying how da-” Luo Binghe started to snarl, but was quickly cut off again.
“Yes I dare.” She snorted, not sparing her (now former?? How did she do that so casually?) husband a look as she took out a qiankun pouch and started packing.
“Worry not, I don’t want any severance. I doubt you will miss my presence. To think I once….” she huffed a self-deprecating laugh. “Shushu was right. You are nothing but a beast, Luo Binghe.”
Try as he might, Luo Binghe was not able to convince Ning Yingying to stay, and eventually relented, sulking off to heavens know where.
‘What a mess’, Mu Qingfang had mused. He had been a simple spectator in the debacle, leaving the freshly separated couple to fight this out between the two of them. Rubbing his sore throat he finally rose from his spot and slowly approached the door. Before he left, he turned towards Ning Yingying.
“Please come by my office later. I will prepare you some supplies.”
“Please Mu-shishu, there is no need. I have books and know enough myself.” Her stormy expression softened noticeably but he only shook his head.
“No no, I insist, it’s the least I can do to repay my debt.” He bowed to her, intending to go down in a kowtow, but hands on his shoulder stopped him.
“And what, let you be slaughtered by the beast for my crimes? Nonsense, Mu-shishu.” she sniffed. Ah, when had she picked up this little gesture habit from Shen-shixiong?
“I insist, how could I possibly face my martial siblings in the underworld if I let you leave without anything? The merged realms are… not safe. It will hardly take a moment to prepare.” And with that Mu Qingfang left for his office, leaving no room for further argument. He had qiankun pouches to prepare.
Indeed, the healer had made a few qiankun pouches for Ning Yingying, which he dropped off a shichen later. The consort kept her word to Luo Binghe, and before the morning sun had fully risen above the horizon, she had vacated her room and disappeared into the morning mist. It was as though she had never been here, safe for all of Luo Binghe’s gifts from over the years, which had been left in a pile on the bed instead. The emperor shut himself in his rooms, ordering to not be disturbed. Only Mobei-Jun was occasionally allowed in for reports and dropping off qi-calming medicine Mu Qingfang had prepared for the demon lord without having been asked to. The emperor undoubtedly needed them with his neglect of the demon sword’s needs, and Mobei-Jun had asked the healer to.
Not long after Ning Yingying had left, Liu Mingyan would also leave the harem, citing the need to journey and collect her thoughts. If Luo Binghe had been upset about either, he didn't let it show outwardly. With the absence of two of the most favored wives of the emperor missing, the harem dramas increased and Mu Qingfang found no time to dwell on the events for too long. Further, Ning Yingying and Liu Mingyan had inspired some of the ignored wives of Luo Binghe to also attempt to take their leave. As there were no repercussions by the emperor, more and more sought to depart from the harem. Luo Binghe hardly acknowledged the requests anymore, waving off his servants and letting the wives go if they so pleased. Whatever had the emperor so busy, nobody knew. Things returned to normal and if Mu Qingfang closed his eyes, he could pretend he was still on Qian Cao Peak.
Chapter 2
Summary:
Mu Qingfang is absolutely not paid enough for this. In fact, he’s not paid at all.
Things deteriorate and the doctor reminisces about the distant past.
Notes:
As always, warnings in the end notes.
Unfortunately I have no bingo prompt on my bingo sheet that fits this chapter but we'll get back to that on the next. Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Mu Qingfang could no longer pretend he was on Qian Cao Peak.
His carefully crafted illusion for his mind shattered the same day Mobei-Jun had suddenly stood in his office, grabbed him by the collar and roughly portaled them to Luo Binghe. As the latter had given a waved dismissal, the ice demon threw the doctor in front of the emperor and vanished into the shadows once more.
“Mu-shishu.” He greeted simply as Mu Qingfang slowly picked himself up into proper kneeling position.
“Emperor Luo. How can this humble healer serve you?” He answered as politely as he could still muster up to be.
“I need your expertise and abilities. As much as I loathe to let anyone else touch my Shizun, there is much to be done and Peak Lord Mu’s assistance would be greatly appreciated.” A deranged smirk morphed onto his face, his tone leaving no room for argument. This was not a request, it was an order. Yet the statement frankly only puzzled Mu Qingfang. Wasn’t Shen Qingqiu very dead at the moment?
“I specialize in the treatment of the living, how could I possibly help with..?”
“Why, of course you can! We must preserve and restore the body so that Shizun can be revived of course. You really think I would let him escape in death? He is mine.” Luo Binghe growled, Xin Mo rattling ominously in its sheath.
And so began another of the less… pleasant chapters of Mu Qingfang’s long life. Not for having to preserve and restore Shen Qingqiu’s body, the task was not unfamiliar after all, but rather for becoming all too familiar with the emperor’s obsession with the former peak lord. While he remained the same emperor Mu Qingfang had unwillingly seen all these years at first, the twinge of nervousness and minor heart demons started to overtake him more and more as attempt after attempt failed to recall his Shizun’s soul to its former body. Artefact after artefact he hunted down, yet nothing seemed to work. As his desperation grew, so did his demands towards Mu Qingfang. If the healer hadn’t been able to sleep before, he certainly was never able to now as he scrambled to research and find results for the emperor to hunt after. There were less patients and paperwork for him, only the futile hunt for more pointless attempts to resurrect a dead man.
Indeed Mu Qingfang could no longer pretend he was on Qian Cao Peak of his peaklord days. No, he thought with a bitter smile, this reminded him more of his days as his shizun’s favored disciple.
The Qian Cao peak lord Qiu Anxiang was a cold woman. She held no affections for her martial siblings or disciples. If anything, it was unknown if she held anyone but herself in high esteem. She had set ridiculously high standards for herself, which were only surpassed by the expectations she demanded of her disciples.
‘It has always been this way on Qian Cao Peak. If you cannot keep up you might as well spare us all the effort and descend the mountain right now.’ had always been a part of her introductory speeches for new disciples. Head disciple after head disciple had crumbled under her demands, either descending the mountain in shame or hanging themselves on the wooden beams of the head disciple house. Unfortunately, it was her that had sighted the Mu siblings digging in the dirt in the disciple selection that fateful day. Mu An had been too young, too naive and too relieved to notice the dangerous glint in the woman’s eyes as she motioned harshly for a few disciples to bring Mu An back to the peak.
“Wait! What about my sister?! Please, she needs help! She needs treatment!” The boy yelled as the disciples all but tore him away from his younger sister, Mu Li. The desperation in his voice got Qiu Anxiang to turn and regard the siblings closer. However, her quick appraisal had deemed the frail girl not worthy of her continued attention.
“What, her? She is already too weak, there is nothing that can be done. If Wu-Shijie or another peak lord wants her, we can take a look at her. Otherwise, she is to descend the mountain and visit one of the outclinics instead. Take the boy, we are returning to the peak.”
This would be the last time Mu An would see his beloved little sister alive as he was quickly dragged to Qian Cao.
Whatever Qiu Anxiang had seen in him that day, it would turn out he was most suited to being an excellent doctor. Under her strict and punishing tutelage his natural aptitude was pushed to its limits and beyond. Yet, where others broke Mu An would not. No, the life of his sister depended on it. After all, Shizun would not let him off the mountain if he did not perform adequately. Years passed before he was finally granted a leave just long enough to rush down the mountain, back to the wretched village house he had hoped to leave behind. But he could not, not as long as sweet innocent meimei Mu Li was still possibly there.
She was so frail, and the Mu siblings not yet sold off would never take care of her correctly. Mu An had always protected her, had carried her on his back when she was too tired to walk, had brought her food he had stolen from the kitchen table and street vendors for her. Whatever illness she had, the local healers could or would not help. Either they could not find anything wrong with her, or they said to rest. Yet rest never had improved her condition and she had continued to deteriorate over time. That was when Mu An had decided to take his chances with the disciple selection at the sect nearby. If no healer would treat her properly, he would just have to find a cure for her. He had carried her all the way to the town and then up the mountain on the selection day. The rest was history.
Mu An was probably 20 when he had been allowed to leave the mountain again. But Mu Li was not back home, long since sold to a local brothel. As mad as he was at his parents, he had no time to dwell on it. He had to find her. She had been the entire reason he even suffered through the torture that was Qiu Anxiang’s personal tutelage. The entire reason he could carry on when he felt he could not. If she was gone, he would- No, he shook his head unwilling to further follow the thought. He could not be too late. He had just found a possible treatment, deep in the depths of the Qian Cao library, in a single doctor’s journal. A single account he could find of a patient with Mu Li’s exact symptoms, a single account with suggested treatment plans that had worked. It would not cure her, but it would buy them time.
Yet after he had found the place she had been sold to, he could no longer avoid that train of thought. Mu Li had died just recently.
They had passed each other by.
It was Qiu Anxiang who had found the grieving and devastated Mu An out in the nearby forest. She had approached without a word, standing over him with an inscrutable face.
“Are you done now?” She had asked to break him out of his sorrows.
Mu An startled so hard he nearly fell backwards, turning sharply to her.
“You would have outlived her regardless. It’s best for you to be rid of this tie to the mortal realm this early. She was never meant to live long.” Qiu Anxiang had the audacity to shrug, her calculating gaze on Mu An all the while.
‘Lies. You could have saved her and you didn’t.’, the boy’s mind screamed hysterically, a thought that had been in the back of his mind for a long time, but pushed down in his desperation. His anger must have shown in his eyes, for Qiu Anxiang barked a sharp, unkind laugh.
“What? The girl had no talents for cultivation. She would have only held you back. You on the other hand…”
She crouched down beside him, roughly grabbing his chin and directing him to look directly at her. Her sharp but pristinely clean nails dug painfully into his skin.
“I had a feeling from the day I saw you in the selection that you would succeed me. You only needed some direction, and a brilliant flower would bloom.”
Mu An was speechless. He could not react in his confusion, betrayal and pain. He could only let himself be roughly manhandled as she turned him around, undid his messy hair and brushed his hair with a comb she had taken out of a bag. When she was done, Mu An’s body still trembling and now kneeling properly, she reached into her qiankun pouch once more. In her hands she held a beautiful guan, silvern trees winding around a delicate white gemstone and a fitting silvern, sharp hair pin decorated with clinking, dainty chains. Her hands disappeared back behind Mu An, now reaching up to place the guan in his hair.
“From this day onwards you shall be Mu Qingfang, my succeeding disciple and future peak lord of Cian Cao.”
Mu An’s- no, Mu An had died along with his sister - Mu Qingfang’s world came to a screeching halt as his Shizun rose. Lost in a pool of anger and resentment, he didn’t rise and follow with one last look at the humble grave until the woman told him to.
Had her Shizun done the same? Beat her down until she broke, only a callous husk remaining? Had they torn everything she loved away from her, torn until only a cruel monster remained? All humanity discarded for the sake of creating the perfect successor? … Had she killed them in cold blood? Mu An did not know, nor particularly cared. All he knew was she was not going to make it to ascension. And well, if she did… he would just have to resort to regular temple burnings. He’s sure Shen-shixiong won't mind if he gives him a run for his money on the worst reputation in the sect. But he knew for sure that he would be the one to present Qiu Anxiang’s severed head to his sister’s grave.
The doctor startled awake from his dreams of a distant past. Mindlessly, he reached into one of his sleeves’ qiankun pouches, searching a little while before his hand fell upon a very familiar hair crown. Idly, he takes it out and stares at it, hands tracing the delicate details. The hair crown was made out of fine silver, undoubtedly a pricey commission his shizun had gotten made for her successor, an exact replica of her very own guan. Two winding trees were carved and twisted around a delicate white jade stone, birds and leaves decorating the sides. The hairpin that went with it was carefully formed into a branch, leaf pendants hanging on small chains. It truly was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, it was only too bad that Mu Qingfang could feel nothing but contempt towards it.
He did not know why he hadn't left this guan behind, either by his sister’s grave (she does not need to know his burdens nor be bothered by any robbers) or to be burned down with the rest of Cang Qiong. He held onto it tighter, letting the pointed details stab into his skin and the pain ground him in reality. Ironically, the emperor had once told Mu Qingfang he should take to wearing it more often.
‘Mu-shishu looks more befitting of a royal doctor this way, don’t you think so?’ Luo Binghe had chuckled, placing the guan back onto his desk where it had laid before at the time, amongst the meager belongings the emperor had oh so graciously rescued for him. He did not know if the demon had already seen his memories at the time, or perhaps he did not want to remember. He had not worn this wretched guan since the day his shizun disappeared and he wasn’t about to now. Or so he had thought.
Later that morning, the healer fixed a familiar silver guan in his hair, a pleasant polite mask slipping upon his face as he did so. It was time to attend to his duties.
And so Mu Qingfang bid his time, dancing to the emperor’s tune (not that the blood mites gave him much of a choice), the old guan now a permanent fixture in his hair. Much like how Mobei-Jun and him had become a semi-permanent addition to the emperor's side. The two of them sometimes exchanged glances, and while Mu Qingfang did not dare pretend he could read the stoic ice demon, he thought he saw an increasing glint of worry in his eyes. Especially when the emperor was once again lamenting the state of affairs. Not that the ice demon had much time to hang around, as Mobei-Jun and Sha Hualing had to handle most of the lands in Luo Binghe’s… absence. Which left the emperor, him and… a pristinely preserved corpse between them. When had this become normal again?
“Why is it not working?!” The emperor raged for the umpteenth time this day, Xin Mo flaring with an oppressive demonic energy. Mu Qingfang was not sure when he got used to that as well. However, he bothered not to respond unless spoken to. Last time he tried, he had to repair his own broken ribs as he had been tossed into a nearby wall. And working with pained breathing with no time to sleep it off was rather bothersome, really.
Lou Binghe continued to pace the room, rambling about how his latest attempt at the revival of Shen-shixiong by Holy Mausoleum had failed. Idly, the healer wondered who of them was the most insane. The emperor trying the same methods over and over again expecting a new result, or the doctor who had not seen sleep in what felt like eternity. The correct answer was likely both, he mused, suppressing a smile.
It had been years now since Lou Binghe returned to the palace, raving about his very deceased shizun. Something about having met a kind shizun, wanting to have his very own kind shizun. Perhaps a desperate desire for a type of love Luo Binghe could not have, despite the once numerous wives he had.
Then again, would they have left if they truly loved the emperor? Mu Qingfang, however, had no complaints about this. Lesser women caused less harem drama meaning less patients for him to attend to on a daily basis next to his now new duties of reviving his former martial sibling. In a fashion that truly suited the late Shen Qingqiu, however, his soul refused stubbornly to return to its former body. And frankly, if Mu Qingfang could advise his martial sibling, he would recommend him to keep it that way.
After all, despite being ever the faithful and ever gentle subject, Mu Qingfang wasn’t stupid. He could see Lou Binghe’s obsession having been fueled by the cursed sword at his hip. Xin Mo did share the characters in its name with heart demon after all. Over the many years he hadn’t bothered to count, he had seen enough to be able to guess what the sword did to its wielder. Lou Binghe believed himself to be in full control of the demonic sword, but evidently, he was not. There had been a reason Xin Mo had been abandoned by its previous wielders, it had not been a whim. Maybe Mu Qingfang should have sent the boy off to Wan Jian Peak and risked Shen-Shixiong’s ire. Some lessons there about cursed swords and why one does not touch those would have done the boy some good.
“Has Mu-Shishu any intentions of answering this lord?” Oh, he must have zoned out again. Lou Binghe glowered down at him, anger ticking up by the minute.
“What does his highness require?” Mu Qingfang decided to answer evenly and carefully.
“Research results. As I had been saying.” Luo Binghe ground out between his teeth.
“None you haven’t already tried.” This did not appease the emperor, so he quickly added: “However perhaps….”, The soul long since reincarnated out of your reach, “the soul does not wish to return to the old body?”
“Explain yourself.”
“Maybe a new host with an unbroken cultivation system would fare better to your summons…? I read a document that mentioned the Sun and Moon Dew Mushroom, perhaps… creating a new body could do it?” Frankly, Mu Qingfang had no hopes this would work, but this had been all his sleep-addled brain had been able to absorb from the books he had read the previous night.
The half-demon scrutinized the healer for a long while before eventually turning his head with a huff.
“Fine. I suppose it can’t hurt to try. We will depart in the morning.”
“Of course. Wait, we?” The emperor always chose to go out on his own, undoubtedly to not be weighed down by anyone. This was the first time he was to go along.
“Naturally. It’s a sensitive plant that requires excellent spiritual qi, therefore Mu-shishu will have to be the one to collect it.” Ah, yeah he supposes that would make sense. Or would it? He is not awake enough to question this too hard.
And just like that, he was dismissed out of the room.
By the time Mu Qingfang made it back to his office, he was ready to tumble into bed and sleep until the emperor undoubtedly would wake him up roughly in the morning.
Ah. Why was he seeing the ceiling of his office? Why was he convulsing and had something running down his face?
Oh. Another qi deviation. He had those frequently nowadays, even though his cultivation used to be very robust after his ascension to peak lord. A part of him hoped it would be fatal. (Well, there had been a fatal one along the years. Unfortunately, he had reawoken to a rather displeased and angry demon lord in the Holy Mausoleum. Fortunately, Luo Binghe had had the courtesy to detangle his meridians before getting him back, therefore reducing his deviations for a good while after.)
Before he could reach the pills in his qiankun pouch with his twitching hands, however, the world faded to black.
Notes:
Warnings: Chronic stress, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied Child Abuse, Death of a side character, Implied Revenge plot, and again Mu Qingfang's non stop yearning for the sweet sweet release of death
Chapter 3
Summary:
One has to hit rock bottom before they can start to pick up the pieces of themselves.
Notes:
Warnings at the end. Now for trivia! The names I forgot in the last chapter. If any chinese native speakers are reading this and find the names sound odd, do let me know please! I tried my best
Mqf’s childhood name: Mù Ān (木安)
Mqf’s shizun: Qiu Ānxiāng (秋安襄)
Mqf’s meimei: Mù Lì (木丽)He is not super relevant this fic but:
Sj’s shizun: Wén Ānrú (文安儒）Yes the An is the same and yes, this was an accident. I was in too deep when I noticed so now it stays damnit.
This time: We will meet a new friend! And also, Mqf retrieves his love for plants.
This fills for the bingo prompt Character/existential crisis
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The years passed at Cang Qiong Mountain and Mu Qingfang continued to dance to his Shizun’s tune. As far as everyone could tell, he was her perfect successor, the rumors whispering he would surely become the best doctor in the Jianghu. He was 22 when he found a potential cure for his sister’s illness, though she would never get to see it.
Mu An might have rejoined her as he had found her body, but not Mu Qingfang. Mu Qingfang knew his sister would not have wanted this for him. And besides, he still had a purpose in this world. A purpose that pulled him towards his most skittish shixiong, the future peak lord of Qing Jing Peak.
Though his shixiong never came to visit Qian Cao unless forced by the strange and unnerving peak lord Wen Anru of Qing Jing, Mu Qingfang had seen him often enough to be able to tell that the rumors of his origins were wrong. A noble’s son wouldn’t behave like a street rat. Wouldn’t tear and lash out to protect what little was theirs, wouldn’t fight the same way Mu Qingfang had whenever he went to steal scraps in the streets. Indeed, he had seen the slave brand and whip scars peeking out of his robes at his neck when he had attempted to go after Shen Jiu after treating him for his wounds that fateful day his shixiong lost to Liu Qingge. Mu Qingfang had been lucky to escape a similar fate. The way Shen Jiu would rub his wrists after meetings he attended and whenever writing a lot, the mistrustful guarded glint in his eyes told a tale of an unkind past. But perhaps, Mu Qinfang would never know for sure, for he never managed to get close to Shen Jiu, or rather, Shen Qingqiu now.
“You wanted to speak?” A distrustful voice yanked him from his musings. Ah right, he had asked to speak to him after the head disciple meeting.
“Ah, yes! Hello, Shen-shixiong. I am glad you accepted to let me borrow some of your time.” Mu Qingfang bowed politely, a cheerful smile on his lips. Shen Qingqiu inclined his head, and Mu Qingfang led the way to one of Qiong Ding’s side rooms so they could speak in private. Once the door was closed, the healer slapped on a few privacy talismans for good measure. The action earned him a raised eyebrow from his shixiong.
“Ah, this healer merely thinks it is best to have no interruptions. You see, this is a rather sensible patient matter.”
“So you came to me about it? Surely you would want someone more honorable.” Shen Qingqiu sneered, guarded as always.
Mu Qingfang, though, was unaffected by his shixiong’s frigid nature.
“Well naturally, you are the one in this sect who knows the most about plants. You see, I have a most peculiar patient and I have not found the answer that I needed in our peak’s library.” He continued with the story he had prepared in advance. As the other merely inclined his head to signal him to continue, he listed the symptoms and progression of this supposed poisoning, watching as Shen Qingqiu’s gaze shifted from wary to contemplative.
“Well, this shixiong can think of a few plants that would fit your descriptions…”
Mu Qingfang smiled. This would be a most productive meeting indeed.
A few days later, while on a mission for the sect, he made a small detour on the way back.
When he got back, he served Qiu Anxiang tea, as he always did in the mornings.
The ascension ceremony of the An generation inched closer, and so did the preparations. It would remain to be seen if all peak lords could safely ascend, however. In particular, the Qian Cao Peak Lord, Qiu Anxiang, had grown increasingly weaker and more ill with each passing year, all but confined to her own peak under the careful care of her head disciple.
She would attend the ceremony, but stated her desire to leave the sect afterwards regardless.
The ascension came and went, the Qing generation now officially instated as the new peak lords. Qiu Anxiang had indeed left the sect after, and would never be seen again.
Not long after the ceremony, Mu Qingfang would make a trip down the mountain. When he returned, he removed the silver guan his Shizun had given him from his hair, smiling to himself as he played with it in his hands.
His sister would be able to rest peacefully now.
Unfortunately he lived to see the next morning. He reawoke coughing during the night, spitting out another clot of blood and shaking off the memories of the past. He rose up still unsteady, fished out a qi replenishing pill out of a small qiankun pouch and swallowed it dry. Mu Qingfang winced at the feeling of dried blood on his face, he really ought to clean that up before the emperor barged in in the morning.
But surely he could afford to lie back down afterwards…? He had not gotten any good sleep in what felt like years - it might as well have been. As he cleaned himself, he couldn't help but remember the fragmented memories he had seen in his fitful qi deviation induced fever dream. Luo Binghe was lucky to be half Heavenly Demon, therefore having an annoying immunity to most, if not all, poisons. The mixture he had used on his shizun would not work on him. And he couldn't dream to overpower the demon lord in a fight - if he could, this charade would have ended centuries ago, with Mu Qingfang feeding the brat his own ripped out organs.
Just like what he had done to the traitor Shang Qinghua, who had the misfortune of surviving the assault on Cang Qiong Mountain Sect and roaming Luo Binghe’s palace. He was a healer but he’d be lying if he said he had mercy for those he disdained.
Lulled to sleep by imagining various ways he should have gotten rid of Luo Binghe across the years, Mu Qingfang finally fell into a restful sleep.
“Mu-Shishu, we need to get going.” It ended far too soon. The demon emperor had all but picked him up and already stepped through a portal he sliced with Xin Mo. Mu Qingfang suppressed a tired groan and let himself be manhandled, mourning the fact that the emperor had not let him pick up his glasses. A quick examination of his pouches told him he had no replacement pairs on him. Well, this was going to be a long day.
Lou Binghe wasted no time to drop him once they stepped foot in Bailu Forest (or what used to be Bailu Forest, it had not escaped unscathed from the realm merging, after all).
It took Mu Qingfang an embarrassingly long moment to gather his bearings and get back up from the forest floor, especially with the emperor breathing down his neck impatiently.
“Lead the way, Mu-shishu.” Luo Binghe smiled all too sweetly and sarcastically.
“Right.” He wasted no time walking ahead, even if he had no idea where to go. He supposed looking for a spiritually strong spot would be a good start? It seemed to him that a plant like that would favor this kind of environment.
Sure enough, following the threads of natural qi eventually led the both of them to a cave. Without bothering to look back and check with Luo Binghe, Mu Qingfang forged ahead. He lit a palm flame for visibility as the passage continued into pure darkness. Vaguely, he registered a creature slither past him and brush by his feet, but he decided to pay it no mind. The emperor wouldn’t let him die anyhow, and if he did somehow perish permanently along the way he couldn’t say he would exactly mind. The stone path wound for ages, getting fairly narrow as they continued to follow it into the depths of the cave.
Soon enough the duo arrived in a wide cavern,
the high ceiling ending in an opening to the skylight, shining a spotlight on a little mound surrounded by a shimmering lake.
Luo Binghe made no motions to move any further, merely pushing Mu Qingfang ahead, nearly sending him scrambling to the floor once more.
‘Would it kill you to treat this healer less like a children’s toy! I’m an old sack of bones!’ Mu Qingfang grumbled in his mind, thoroughly miffed with the emperor’s attitude this fine morning. ‘You haven’t done shit the entire trip! I can’t even see well without my glasses! Maybe Shen-shixiong should have left you to the mercy of daily beatings at Bai Zhan Peak, brute!’
A string of curses that would make a sailor blush sounded within the privacy of his own mind, all the while he braved through the waters of the lake to reach the mound of mushrooms and set to collect some with a deep breath. Ah, whatever. Perhaps the emperor was just as aware as he was that this was horribly pointless. Even so, he had still insisted on the trip - perhaps as some sort of humiliation for Mu Qingfang's absent-mindedness.
As he made his way back to the other side, he vaguely registered something slithering up to him, attempting to snatch the satchel in the healer’s hand. Unfortunately for the creature, he reacted just in time, old reflexes lifting the qiankun pouch just out of reach. And even more unfortunately for the creature, the emperor had seen this and sent the creature flying into the wall with a sickening crack.
Mu Qingfang was not sure why he even cared, but he jumped in front of Luo Binghe before he could take a no-doubt fatal second swing.
“Wait! I wish to talk to them.” He yelled, hands raised high.
The demon emperor growled, clearly displeased. “It attempted thievery, it does not deserve any mercy. Stand aside.”
The healer shook his head vehemently. “Not every slight should demand a retribution of blood. Let this doctor deal with it.”
Luo Binghe looked behind him, brows furrowed, before looking at Mu Qingfang once more, as if considering whether he should allow it. Finally, seeing the ugly snake creature just keen and hiss in pain, he stood down, sheathing Xin Mo with a disgruntled huff.
“Fine, but make it quick.”
“Thanking your Highness for your graciousness.” He tried hard to keep the sarcasm out of his tone and wasted no time turning towards the creature on the floor.
Admittedly, Mu Qingfang had never seen a creature like this before. They were clearly a snake demon, yet the amalgamation of features, of skin and scales suggested they were likely a hybrid with another demon species. Thinking back, this was likely the culprit of the vague presence Mu Qingfang had felt in the caves, in all places but…
But where the light touched down on the field of mushrooms. Ah. So the creature was likely sun-sensitive. Their attempt to go for the healer’s satchel made him connect the dots.
“If you wish to grow yourself a more suitable form, this healer would not advise the Sun and Moon Dew Mushroom for a demon.” He started while he looked through his supplies. Ah, there it was. He took out the small vial of poultice and showed it to the snake demon.
“Before I continue though, I would like to treat your wounds.” He pointed at the deep scratches on the scales and the bruising he could tell was forming from where the creature had crashed into the wall. He couldn't tell more from just a visual examination, though.
The creature was understandably wary of him, eyeing him with those big yellow snake eyes, a peculir green demon mark shining on its forehead. They showed no sign of allowing him further, so Mu Qingfang elected to leave the poultice on the cave floor in front of it, alongside a few replenishment pills as he explained each of their uses and effects. The snake demon flicked out their tongue less erratically as he went on, carefully inspecting the tools he had laid out for them.
Seeing this, the healer felt he could continue. “The Sun and Moon Dew Mushroom creates bodies of the purest spiritual energy such as is favorable to humans, for example. For a demon as yourself, though, it will begin rotting away as your natural demonic qi will clash with it.”
“If you wish to obtain another form, you should seek out the Azure Valley Lily of Reshaping. You should be able to create a poultice from the flower petals and the leaves’ nectar, and it will grant the demon consuming it a temporary change in appearance. If you wish for a more permanent solution, you would require the dethorned vines of the Dusk Dew Thorns, grind them up and add them to the previous poultice.”
“Anecdotally, if you already have the Dusk Dew Thorns’ dethorned vines at your disposal, you could again grind them up but mix them with the crushed up roots of the Azure Valley Lily. In fact, there are a few more uses for the Lily, it is so very fascinating!”
Mu Qingfang awkwardly cleared his throat, catching himself before he could further descend into excited rambling. It had been a while since he could talk about these things to an audience that truly cared, or at least seemed to care. The snake demon was listening intently, big yellow eyes blinking in curiosity. As he was talking, they had allowed him to get closer and gently start applying some of the poultice on the wounds, which were now rapidly closing up.
“The Azure Valley Lily of Reshaping is quite rare, and is only found in the most optimal shadowy corners of the mountain valleys in the demon realm. Or ah… I suppose all mountain valleys are an option now with the merging of realms. They require crooks and crannies that are entirely shielded from the sun, yet only through other plants and not any stone structures. It looks fairly unassuming and is thus often missed and therefore not known about. I am sure it wouldn’t be too difficult to search for you though, as it does not require you to move in the sunlight.”
The creature blinked slowly at him, and he gave a reassuring smile. He elected to leave the rest of the poultice with the creature, even as he was done treating their wounds. Already, the wounds were starting to close up on their own.
“For the Dusk Dew Thorns, you may require assistance, though. They are commonly found in swamps, and as their name suggests, will only come out at dusk to hunt for prey. You see, it is a carnivorous underground plant system. Its vines will seep out of the ground in the dusk, and they are all adorned with extendable thorns. Those thorns will inject an acid into any living creature unlucky enough to step on it or be otherwise captured by the plant, and ensure the victim melts into the vines and is thus absorbed as food. The acid could have a few medical uses, however, the harvesting of it is difficult at best, and hardly any containers do not dissolve with the acid inside, so it is terribly impractical. However, by placing a decoy in its vicinity, you can cleave off the vines as they shoot out and collect them immediately. You would have to then remove the thorns by carving in a circular motion around them, one by one. One wrong cut and the entire vine will be unusable. However, when harvesting, avoid lingering too long. The plant system will get aggressive when it registers hostility and then starts attacking you.”
“I hope you are able to get your wish. Stay safe and avoid too much excitement for a day or two.” The doctor finished his explanations with a small smile at the creature, checking over his handiwork of the bandages he applied as to ensure the poultice will not be rubbed off by the creature’s mode of transportation. He gave a small polite bow, watching as the creature nodded at him before slowly slithering off with the medicine the doctor had given them.
“Ever so benevolent, truly your reputation was understated, Shishu.” Behind him, Luo Binghe mocked him, rolling his eyes with an impatient huff.
The healer took a deep breath, any joy thoroughly sucked out of his being remembering the demon lord behind him and the cursed guan in his hair. He rose steadily to his feet, as composed as he could muster with the emotions draining out of him like a full teapot flipped on its head. He turned towards the emperor, face hollow and neutral.
“Make no mistake, Luo Binghe. This Mu Qingfang is a healer, not a saint.” he answered icily. “I cannot work miracles, and some miracles are even out of reach of the gods.”
And even gods had limits. After all, the gods had all but disappeared within a single night, never to answer prayers or be heard from again a few years ago. Not that they ever answered important prayers beforehand though, surely considering themselves far above the affairs of lowly mortals.
The excursion had surprisingly been a success, and thus growing the mushrooms from the late Shen Qingqiu’s blood was now yet another task added to his schedule. He would get up from his desk, put on the fine silver guan and his fake smile, check on the mushrooms and then go on morning rounds around the healing bay. Depending on the day, he would check in with patients or teach classes to other doctors in the palace, or any that had made the trek and been allowed to attend. Occasionally there would be incidents in the harem, though it was far less than before now that the population was nearly entirely drained and the wives no longer got any attention from the emperor. Most of the time, he would just treat any patients that showed up at the palace clinic. Occasionally, the emperor would be desperate enough to call in experts of different fields for help, and Mu Qingfang and Mobei-Jun would have to keep an eye on them. (One particularly strange encounter had been a purple clad diviner, who had been terribly anxious but also had not minced words on his divinations. He clearly was more than just a secret cultivator, but the emperor had let him leave. Mu Qingfang tried not to think about how accurate his divinations had been.)
Then came evening rounds, and just after that the emperor would usually call on him, requesting updates and any research findings he had made. Most frequently, he would then spend his nights either forced to sit and listen to Luo Binghe rave while he checked that Shen Qingqiu’s body remained in good condition or in his office filling out long overdue paperwork.
Sleep was elusive, and even if it came to him, it would hardly be restful or pleasant. Pictures of a past he wished to not have to remember were haunting him when all he wanted was to experience the void bliss of sleep.
But there was no sleep for the wicked, nor for those who had become the emperor‘s plaything. Such as Mu Qingfang.
The healer could feel himself hanging onto a precarious edge with something, anything to bear with the circumstances, but he did not know how much longer he could do it. Under Qiu Anxiang, he had had the relief of the poison doing its job and the end being foreseeable, but he had no such thing here. He could not do anything against the wretched beast of an emperor, and his task was but an exercise in futility. Most terrifyingly, he did not know what would happen if he slipped. Not even Qiu Anxiang had managed to stomp on his fingers hard enough so that would lose his grip and fall.
He wouldn’t have to wonder for much longer.
“I shall be absent for a while to deal with the unrest in the North with Mobei-Jun. I expect you to watch over Shizun, naturally. Not a single hair should be changed on him when I return.” Luo Binghe had quickly demanded, before vanishing through a portal summoned by Xin Mo.
This left Mu Qingfang, who hadn’t slept in weeks, alone in the palace with the body of Shen Qingqiu.
One could hardly see the traces of years of torture on his bodies anymore. Well, beyond the gauntness and the still quite crude scar on his throat. The same scar that caused his death, the same scar Mu Qingfang had to painfully mend alongside the many, many other scars. Around his arm sockets, around his legs. Around his *tongue*, around his right eye. Thinking about the torture Shen-shixiong must have endured made him sick to his stomach. All of that, and yet the beast had not been sated. Not even when he tore up Cang Qiong Mountain Sect in his thirst for revenge. Not even when he had skewered and cleaved his best friend Wei-shixiong apart with Xin Mo, not when the sect leader had been pierced by thousands of arrows, not when hundreds of innocents died for his petty, never ending quest for a vengeance that will never bring him the inner peace he seeks.
Mu Qingfang had tried so hard to keep the memories down, keep them bottled away forever, yet as the precarious balance of his mind tipped over, he was powerless to the avalanche of suppressed emotions and memories flooding him, overwhelming him, drowning him-
Before he knew it he was retching non-existent stomach contents onto the stone floor, eyes burning, his arms trembling as he fought to keep himself upright. Once the heaving slowed down, he unsteadily pushed himself away from the puddle on the floor, after all he did not intend to fall or heavens forbid potentially drown in his own vomit.
He took a couple of deep breaths, his throat aching and burning terribly from all of the stomach acid that had come up. And yet, Mu Qingfang found that he felt nothing at all, nothing but a void that was swallowing all the emotions he could not handle to process, a void that grew beyond that and threatened to swallow him whole.
He curled up on his side, aware of how pathetic he must look from the outside, but he could not find it in himself to care anymore. His head was spinning, his heart rate erratic, he reasonably knew he should reach for the medicine he carried on his person at all times, yet he did not. He could only lean his cheek and palms on the cold hard floor, waiting for it to ground him back into the mockery he called reality.
It was only when he woke up later, still occasionally convulsing, that he realized he had blacked out entirely. A shaking hand reached up to wipe at the sticky substance on his face, and came away bloody. Another qi deviation, fantastic. Unfortunately it hadn’t taken him away.
He would just have to do that himself, he decided then and there. The longer he stared at his blood-smeared hand the more the determination within him grew.
He was sick of this farce, he was sick and tired of living. Shen-shixiong being revived would not bring Luo Binghe any happiness - for the ‘nice’ shizun he had seen in his dreams was just that - a dream, the utter delusion of a brat who refused to let go of a past long gone.
As if he hadn’t just been seizing on the floor in a qi deviation, Mu Qingfang wiped his face off hastily on his sleeves, moving determinedly towards where the mushroom body was kept. With but a sweep of his hands, he set the remaining seeds aflame to ash and the body wilted and died with a careless flick of qi at it. With no time to lose, the healer continued onwards.
He passed by the old prison where Shen Qingqiu had been kept, a flash of steel distracting him momentarily. He paused, staring at what were the remains of the sect leader of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect: the shards of the once mighty Xuan Su. A sword that had been tied to the man’s life force, for reasons his shizun and the records had refused to disclose. Before he could stop himself, he had started gathering the shards and deposited them all in a qiankun pouch that he quickly tucked in his robes.
Idly, he thinks that despite all the fighting and tension of their living days, Shen-shixiong would certainly not mind his ashes resting with the sect leader’s only remains.
Almost running through the winding halls of the palace he knew so well by now, he reached the very chamber that held the glorified corpse he was looking for. Naturally, the beast had placed wards and security measures on the door and room that held the corpse, as well as alarm arrays on the corpse, but Mu Qingfang was keyed in for obvious reasons. With a smile the healer hummed to himself, knowing he would make the emperor regret ever trusting him in the first place.
After all, he’d do well to remember that subjects ruled by fear are hardly the most loyal.
Still, just to ensure no one could interfere, he inspected the wards, tweaking as necessary. He technically did not have that kind of authority over the wards, but well. It wasn’t difficult to obtain it and modify the array regardless. Luo Binghe did not make particularly complex or impressive arrays. Mournfully, he thinks Shen-shixiong would have made better ones.
Then, it was time to turn towards the corpse in question. Shen Qingqiu had, truthfully, never looked this peaceful in his lifetime. Perhaps, he had been simply too stressed, stuck in layers upon layers of stress and paranoia gnawing at his soul. He was dressed lightly in a white under-robe and pants, hands folded neatly on his chest as though he was merely sleeping. From the very few times Mu Qingfang had witnessed the man unconscious though, he could tell there was no soul in this body. Shen Qingqiu never had seemed this peaceful, even knocked out or asleep.
Mu Qingfang closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Carefully, he started drawing an array above the corpse with some qi, drawing from his memories of preparing the dead for burial during his disciple days. He carefully avoided thinking how the last time he had done this was for Liu Qingge. Qi-fueled flames flurred, and soon enough a heap of ash had been formed where a corpse used to be. The healer opened his eyes, emotionlessly staring at the pile of ash. He took out a pouch, and gathered the pile in there with a quick flick of qi. One last sealing array on the pouch to ensure none of the ash would fall out and it was done. He tucked the ashes away by the shards.
He could finally put Shen-shixiong to rest with Zhangmen-shixiong.
But first… He turned on his heel, returned the room’s wards to normal and left the room. He walked calmly around the corner before promptly departing into a sprint. He had to leave this place and fast.
Notes:
I left in a small hint for where we are in the tgcf timeline since this is a minor fusion with tgcf! Kudos to anyone who finds it ~\(≧▽≦)/~ Extra kudos if you spot the small tgcf character cameo.
Warnings for this chapter: Mqf’s continued casual suicidalness, canon typical violence, graphic description of a mental breakdown and vomiting. Tread with caution on the last section of this chapter.
Chapter 4
Notes:
We are finally going to check in with our Jiumei! It is time for him to enter the stage and kick some ass.
You know the drill about warnings at this point, I wager.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Shen Jiu knew he was a rotten soul destined for the depths of hell, never to reincarnate again for his sins. There was no salvation of Meng Po’s soup for the likes of monsters like him.
But his sins were his to pay for. Not Yue Qingyuan’s. Never his. If the beast hadn’t insisted on hunting him down, Shen Jiu might have been able to go into the underworld in peace. But when the monster called Luo Binghe brought the shards of Xuan Su before him, he knew he would never rest until Yue Qi was avenged. He had returned, oh why had he? For the purpose of attending a decades-late appointment, in order to fulfill a futile, meritless promise. The sword broken, the man dead-
Even if Mt. Tonglu would never again open its kiln, Shen Jiu would rise to supreme calamity no matter the cost. He would tear through the entire population of demons and ghosts if it was what it took. He had been robbed of his full potential in his lifetime, he would not be in death. No one would be able to threaten what’s his anymore. Not even the wretched beast.
Imagine his surprise to have the hollow shell of what used to be Mu Qingfang walk in front of him in the water prison. The man was little more than a slave to the emperor’s whims, meant to assist the beast in medical endeavors, including repairing his torture doll when the blood mites could not. Undoubtedly, his life as court physician had been the gracious reward for having treated the little beast well during his days on Cang Qiong Mountain. And what a wonderful gift it was, the more time passed, the more Shen Qingqiu saw his own death wish reflected in Mu Qingfang’s empty and tired eyes. The relief of passing away to join their martial siblings had been taken from him through the blood mites. Even as Mu Qingfang learned to play along just so he wouldn’t be punished, Shen Qingqiu could see the emptiness of his expressions and actions whenever the physician was in the water prison. He was just going through the motions of living, though in all fairness Shen Qingqiu doubted the healer saw much life in him either. Unfortunately, the beast had left the shards of Xuan Su just out of reach for him to take matters into his own hands (or mouth) and free himself.
Mu Qingfang had once visibly contemplated freeing him from the burden of living. The healer had been kneeling in front of him, silently working to remove dead tissue. His gaze had fleeted from Shen Qingqiu’s throat to his tools and Shen Qingqiu had merely shaken his head, as much as he was able to anyway. Unfortunately, the mere thought had been enough for the beast, who had been overseeing the treatment as always, to punish the healer severely. Mu Qingfang didn’t scream as much he would have imagined the doctor would under torture. In fact, he was terrifyingly quiet, as much as he physically could. Later, the healer’s unconscious body had been roughly dragged out of the water prison, and he had never shown any thoughts of trying ever again.
In the end, his salvation would come from Ning Yingying. Sweet Ying’er, who had stumbled in and gasped and cried to Shen Qingqiu, who could not reply to her sobs and pleas. Once she had regained her composure, her eyes wandered to the shards of Xuan Su still lying on the floor, and she made a decision. Blood flowed freely from the fresh cut on his neck, gurgling and bubbling with his body’s last attempts to draw breath.
‘Good girl Ying’er’, Shen Qingqiu had thought as he had faded into nothingness. Little did she know the salvation and golden opportunity she had handed him.
It took an unknown amount of time for him to reform enough to regain awareness, but when he did it was in a deserted forest, the scattered remains of ghost fires around him. He felt the thrumming of newly absorbed energy under his skin, certainly the very same energy he had devoured from the unfortunate dispersed ghosts in his vicinity. A quick examination revealed that he had decent spiritual energy, even more than he ever had as a peak lord. Righteous cultivation had only gotten his ruined cultivation so far, yet resentment and his desire for revenge fueled him more than his weak golden core ever could. His lips formed into a giddy, ugly smile. Oh yes, he would make sure no one could threaten what’s his anymore and that Qi-ge could rest in peace.
As he was just getting used to his new shiny ghost cultivation, slaughtering and absorbing energy from other ghosts, he had an extraordinary stroke of luck. Mt. Tonglu had opened its kiln once more, he felt it in his very being, just like the other ghosts. He wasted no time, determined to climb his way to the very top. Gone were the days of righteous cultivation in his mind, of those habits and manners and righteousness his shizun had all but violently beaten into him, as he did everything to end up the only surviving ghost in every battle that came his way. Liu Qingge would have been outraged at the utter lack of honorability, but honor was only good for getting you killed in a place like this.
The years blended together inside the kiln. It didn’t take long for him to be the only ghost inside, after all. Other wraths simply could not compete with his raw spite and resentment, thrumming through his dead veins as though it always belonged there.
The loneliness didn’t bother Shen Jiu, long since used to the feeling. Compared to the countless years in Lou Binghe’s basement, this was rather comfortable, actually. He had even been able to craft a new spiritual weapon from his blood (a fan, he had always loved using them for battle) and reconnect his severed floating limbs to his body to his satisfaction (he could still detach them and had fine control over this now, but that was neither here nor there).
Eventually though, he broke out. Reforged anew, all his resentment and anger burned higher and higher, until the ash settled and left him feeling empty and hollow. With a raspy gasp he awoke, looking over the empty landscape that surrounded Mt. Tonglu. Not a soul was to be seen, only himself and the spiritual battle fan at his hip. He let himself enjoy the serene peace of the moment for a while longer before he descended, floating down quickly.
Now he would only have to recover his ashes.
Retrieving his ashes was easier said than done. After all, Shen Jiu did not intend for the beast to know of his continued existence just yet. He had opted to switch to simple azure, brown or grey robes, as his former teal and green peak lord robes would be far too obvious. A weimao and or a veil constantly on his head and face until he could reliably transform his shape, he blended into the general populace of the mortal realm. This was where he learned that the beast had merged the realms with no regard for any living being, the lands still showing signs of the turbulent transition this must have been. Some corners had yet to recover from the chaos.
The first obvious step to retrieving his ashes to prevent dispersion was, of course, reconnaissance. It had been a very long time since he had been the peak lord of Qing Jing, but his skills, while rather rusty, had not diminished. He had to be strategic about this and avoid Lou Binghe at all costs. So he needed information, preferably from inside the palace too. He would break in on a time he knew Lou Binghe was not present, knockout a servant and shapeshift, blend in, retrieve his ashes and leave. Easy enough for a calamity level ghost such as himself. Any other plans he had for the demon lord would have to wait until then.
He found his information eventually, coin would always help people talk. And if not there were always… other methods. What he did not expect, however, was running into a familiar face. As it turns out, the beast’s wives had been leaving him, and even more shockingly, he had let them go without a fuss. People whispered about how the emperor had not been seen in a while either. Somehow, even with all this, he did not expect to find none other than Ning Yingying in the former mountain range of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, having reformed the sect with her and Liu Mingyan as sect leaders. He was pleased to find the sect consisted of a lot of the former wives of the beast, as well as any other unfortunate souls. A piece of himself settled, seeing Ning Yingying do so well for herself. She seemed… happy.
He dared not approach her. If he left gifts of supplies and coin on occasion, that was entirely his own business.
While he did not approach Ying’er, he approached the other girls in various other forms (his original form would be too recognizable after all). Some of them had usual information or still had contact with the wives that remained in the palace. It proved very useful to determine the best time to strike.
It wasn’t long until an opportunity arose. He had bid his time enough, it was high time to seize back control of his life. The demon lord was to be out for a good week, dealing with the unrest in the formerly icy northern regions. This would buy Shen Jiu more than enough time to slip in and out unperceived.
He followed the pull he intrinsically knew led to his ashes, floating along the shadows just out of sight. Guards were none the wiser and any detection arrays deactivated with but a handwave. It was almost too easy to slip in, which made Shen Jiu very suspicious. However, he did not have the luxury of letting this distract him. The palace was eerily empty anyhow, the hustle and bustle of the once many servants nowhere to be seen. One of the former wives at the sect had reported that the palace was empty these days, fewer wives requiring far less servants and maids in waiting to stick around. He traversed through the shadows of the long winding halls relying on the reports he had long memorized and the pull he felt in his soul. His ashes were not much further, he could feel it. In fact, they seemed to… be moving in his direction?
Startlingly closer by the minute, enough so that Shen Jiu stopped just before the next corner, choosing to lay low as he heard rapid footsteps coming down the hall. Just before the figure could run past him, he stepped out of the shadows, roughly tackling the figure certainly carrying his ashes to the floor. The calamity wasted no time placing himself above the unknown man, holding a knife to the man’s neck, close enough a thin line of blood trickled down the blade.
“Give me the ashes!” He snarls, before finally taking the time to properly look at the offending party underneath him.
And… it took a good moment for Shen Jiu to recognize the small man underneath him was, in fact, none other than Mu Qingfang. And frankly…. he looked like utter shit in Shen Jiu’s humble opinion. Dull shocked eyes looked at him in utter disbelief, decorated by heavier eyebags than the healer ever had sported after Liu Qingge returned to his peak once in a blue moon. The former, slight chubbiness to his face had all but disappeared, his once pristine wavy hair was a barely contained mess, barely held together in a bun by an askew silver guan the doctor had not worn since their disciple days and a stray brush. His usual small glasses now had a few small cracks and sat askew on his face. His robes were not in a much better state either. There still were traces of blood at the corner of his mouth, ears and eyes. Was this how that beast was repaying kindness these days? By robbing them of their sleep and food? So much for the emperor’s supposed oh so gracious generosity.
“....Mu-shidi?” Shen Jiu ventured, brows narrowing in mild trepidation. “What are you doing with my ashes?”
“S..shen-shixiong…?”, the man under him rasped out, voice clearly strained and rough. “I really must be insane…” the healer found it in himself to mutter with a self-deprecating laugh.
Shen Jiu was speechless. He took a look around, but saw no one else around. This did not mean they would have a lot of time to linger, though. So he made a, frankly, stupid decision.
He stood up, pocketed his knife and picked up the still very dazed healer on the floor, only to tuck him under an arm like one would with an unruly toddler. Since he had nothing left to get in this place with his ashes safely retrieved, he ran back from whence he entered. He had so many questions for his only still living martial sibling but those would unfortunately have to wait a while longer. He did not know if he could shift into the shadows with this additional baggage, so he elected the much more obvious strategy of simply running and efficiently dealing with any guards they came across. Even for the toughest of demons, surviving a dozen shards to the face would be difficult. Or a detached arm shooting forward with a blade clean through the neck really. And honestly, if they did survive, the beast would likely bereave them of their heads anyhow.
Soon enough, they were finally outside. A transporting array Shen Jiu had prepared in advance nearby ensured they would not be anywhere close to either the palace nor the beast for that matter. The healer remained quiet during the entire trip, until Shen Jiu finally dropped him to the ground in a small abandoned hut in the forest the array had brought them to. The array in question fizzled out with a wave of the ghost’s hand, ensuring no one could follow them through it.
Not bothering to bend down, Shen Jiu let one of his arms detach and hold a knife to the doctor’s throat. “Well? My ashes, Mu-shidi.”
The doctor remained speechless. In fact, he looked so shocked Shen Jiu feared for a second he would topple right into a qi deviation. Hm, maybe detaching the arm had not been the best idea to get the healer out of his stupor.
“...but… how… you are dead?” He finally manages, backing away reflexively from the knife at his throat. The arm only follows him.
“Astute observation. Mu-shidi would do well to remember that ghosts are a viable path.” Shen Jiu bit back sarcastically, patience ticking down.
To his surprise, he receives a humorless snicker in response. “So this is why he never could summon your soul back…” was all the doctor hummed while poking the detached arm before him before devolving into mad giggles.
… The beast had driven Mu Qingfang off the edge of sanity, clearly. Shen Jiu only looked down upon the small cackling form in utter disbelief.
Moments went by before the ghost decided he still needed his answers from the healer.
“Well, as you can see, I’m clearly still here. My ashes, Mu-shidi. Why are they with you and what were you doing?!” Shen Jiu snaps, sharpened teeth grinding and clicking in annoyance.
“How do I know you truly are Shen-shixiong and this isn’t a dream conjured by Lord Luo?” Mu Qingfang counters with a surprising amount of clarity. He had a point, but unfortunately the calamity did not have any patience left for this exchange.
“For the record, I am not a conjured dream. The beast makes much more cruel dreams than this.” He clicks his tongue and with a whack of his spiritual fan, the healer is out cold for the time being. Ruthlessly, Shen Jiu gets to work finding what he came for.
He eventually found his ashes in one of the doctor’s qiankun pouches, alongside all too familiar shards. Just the sight of them brought a pang to his heart, so he quickly tucked them away in his robes, just by his chest.
After reforging his ashes into a form that was far less prone to destruction, he decided to take a closer look at the still unconscious doctor. He truly was in a poor state, any self-care had long since been abandoned. The deep set bruises under his eyes rivaled Shen Jiu’s own during his time in the beast’s basement, his sleep restless and a frown set upon his face. Traces of blood were evident at the corners of his eyes, mouth, nose and even ears. Had… The Mu Qingfang had a qi-deviation just recently?? This would explain the healer’s… turbulent state of mind.
It had been years since Shen Jiu last passed qi to a person, and the last time had ended in quite a disaster. Still, he grabbed his wrist and started sending a whisp of qi. As he crept along the healer’s meridians, he could hardly believe Mu Qingfang had let his spiritual pathways become this mangled and inflamed. Shen Jiu would no longer let him say anything about his own terrible meridians and lack of care, pah! Not that he still could criticize them. Reformed by the kiln’s flames, his meridians were now nothing short of perfection. The resentful energy belonged there, always had. Maybe this is why he never had success in his mortal days. His body was made for the cultivation of the dead, not the living.
Displeased, he discovered a little hindrance in Mu Qingfang’s blood. The heavenly demon’s blood mites, of course. This… would be a problem. Shen Jiu briefly considered ditching the healer but immediately rejected the idea. It would be good to have one over the demon lord, he’d certainly be displeased to get his last toy taken from him. He may not have all the information yet, but it looked awfully like Mu Qingfang was betraying the emperor of the united realms. Shen Jiu of all people knew exactly what fate would await the healer upon retrieval by the beast. He was undoubtedly going to be the replacement of Shen Qingqiu in the wretched underground prison. Regardless of their shared past in Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, the thing known as Shen Jiu could truly not… bring himself to abandon his least offensive martial sibling to such a fate.
Indeed he had no reasons to feel much of anything for the doctor. If anything, Mu Qingfang had always seemed honest with him. On very rare occasions where Shen Jiu didn’t wake up hating the world and himself first thing in the morning, he would invite the doctor for tea if both their schedules allowed such. (It rarely did, but the few times they did meet were spent discussing poisonous plants in great detail. Why, Shen Jiu would dare say Mu Qingfang was the only person on the wretched mountain he could hold an intelligent and engaging conversation with.)
So no, he would not leave Mu Qingfang behind, for better or worse. They would have to deal with the blood mites sooner rather than later though. The doctor might have an idea, but for now Shen Jiu settled for an array that would reduce the reach of the filthy blood parasites.
Now to wake the doctor up and hope the qi transfusion made him more lucid. Pity, the healer likely really needed the sleep judging from the bruises under his eyes. Slowly, those grey blue eyes opened, slowly trying to focus on his surroundings. Then, with a start, Mu Qingfang shot up, jumping away from Shen Jiu, needles already dancing between his knuckles. The calamity remained unphased, however, merely raising an eyebrow at the doctor.
“Welcome back to the waking world, Shidi.” He couldn't help but deadpan.
With a visible sigh of relief, the needles disappeared out of sight, and the healer readjusted his glasses, looking at the figure before him.
“Should you be real, forgive me, but I cannot discard the possibility this is but a cruel dream by the emperor. After all, last I checked Shen-shixiong was pretty dead.”
Shen Jiu snorted. “Not wrong. However, you wrongly assumed that an affliction such as death could keep me down. But very well, what could I possibly do to convince you that this is very real, shidi? Do you even remember what happened earlier?”
The healer’s eyes narrowed in thought and doubt.
Hm, Shen Jiu had not expected Mu Qingfang to be so paranoid. Then again, he had been living in the beast’s palace, so he couldn't fault him for being careful. Realistically, the beast had also searched all of the doctor’s memories at least once, so he’d have to pick something else… Oh. He had an idea.
“How about this? When we were disciples, you had asked me about very particular poison plants. We never talked about the affair again, and Qiu Anxiang, your shizun, vanished after the ascension ceremony. And you not much later before returning. You perhaps suspected I knew exactly what you had done, but I never confirmed or denied it. So let me say this clearly. I know you were responsible for Qiu Anxiang’s declining health and subsequent death. Because she is dead, isn’t she? This is why you followed her down the mountain.”
Mu Qingfang looked at him with wide eyes, blinking a couple of times before he gave a chilly smile. “She is long dead. She never got to see the heavens.” He confirmed easily enough, sacking down from his tense position. “So it really is you, and reality. I never dared think you would stick around in this lifetime as a ghost… No wonder any of Luo Binghe’s summoning rituals ever worked.”
The satisfaction of having the healer’s tentative belief was quickly overshadowed by the revelation.
“Summoning rituals?! So that’s why I felt tugs on my soul occasionally… but tell me, what the hell does the beast even want with me? Why is he still obsessed?” Shen Jiu hissed, rather displeased. After all, the beast had ignored him for a year before his death! What could have possibly changed?
Mu Qingfang shruged helplessly with a sigh. “I don’t know. He vanished somewhere around the time you died, and came back utterly obsessed with you. He started ignoring everything but the singular task of reviving you, shixiong. I… was made to help restore your body and research. He kept muttering something about wanting to shape you into…” The healer grimaced painfully “A nice shizun. Whatever that was alluding to. Frankly, I’m glad you never answered the soul summoning.”
Shen Jiu saw the shudder pass over the healer as he no doubt pictured the possibility in his mind. He had to agree with Mu Qingfang, he was not particularly keen on finding out just what perverse delusion the beast had now. Either way, this was bad. That meant the beast was absolutely not going to leave either of them alone in the upcoming times. Shen Jiu scowled, and long since not the poser master of Qing Jing Peak anymore, he uttered a single word.
“Fuck.”
To his surprise, Mu Qingfang threw his head back and barked out a laugh. A genuine laugh! Clearly the doctor has gone mad.
“That’s one way to put it. I assume you have retrieved your ashes…?” He finally answered, clearly searching for the aforementioned item in his qiankun sleeves.
“Naturally. What do you think I came for in the beast’s horrid palace?”
“Fair enough. What is your plan, might I be so bold to ask? It is probably not wise for you to stick by me with the blood mi-”
“Yes, I am aware of those and the horrid state of your meridians, shidi. And no, I am not letting you be captured by the beast. Do you really wish to take my place in the dungeon so badly?” The calamity sneered, causing Mu Qingfang to flinch and awkwardly pick at the old scar over his lips. At least the doctor had the decency to look somewhat ashamed.
“Aha… well, I would hope he wouldn't bother and would just skip to… the execution. But after today’s stunt…” He drifted off, both of them need not be reminded of the past few years. (Or decades? Maybe even a century? Neither had kept count.)
“I would love to get some more answers from you shidi, but that shall have to wait. We need to address your blood mites. I have already placed an array that will shorten their range, but we need a permanent solution.” Shen Jiu clicked his tongue in annoyance. Really, the beast had far too many tools at his disposal. It was almost like he was the favourite of the heavens.
Across from him, Mu Qingfang remained silent, pondering the matter and skillfully ignoring his own surprise over the use of we. Truthfully, he had played with the thought of how one would go about cleansing the blood mites from the bloodstream, though he obviously had never gotten to test it out. What did they have to lose now, though?
“I have a few theories, this one supposes there is no harm in trying them.” He waited for his prickly shixiong to incline his head before continuing.
“I could simply try and bruteforce them by imploding them with qi. Unfortunately, it would require more spiritual energy than I have at my disposal right now, though.” He rubbed his hands over his face.
“That’s all?” Shen Jiu blinked across him. “I have plenty.”
Now it was the healer’s turn to look at his shixiong, confused.
“Surely you cannot expend too much of it or…” He didn’t get to finish before Shen Jiu had crossed the room and clapped a hand on his back. His mouth closed with an audible click of his teeth, indeed his shixiong had enough spiritual energy for the both of them. Wait, was he a calamity?! Nevermind, he could question him later. Resources more than abundant, he set to work.
It took a long time to break down the mites and start flushing them forcibly from his system. The process hurt, but Mu Qingfang only clenched his teeth and sat through it. After all, there is worse and he knew what those damned mites were capable of. He had suffered it far too often to not know better.
Sweat trickling down his forehead uncomfortably and dropping onto his glasses, he breathed through the procedure. Thankfully, it seemed to be working. Unfortunately though, he was reaching the limit of his concentration for the day. He would have to continue later. At least the number of blood mites was vastly reduced, it would have to do. He couldn’t afford another qi deviation in such a short time span. (Even if he had noticed that Shen-shixiong had done something to straighten out his meridians while he was knocked out.)
He hadn’t noticed he was buckling until wry gaunt arms held onto his shoulders to steady him.
“The great Mu-daifu should know his own limits better than this.”, came the clipped response of the owner of the very arms holding him up. Mu Qingfang coughed and righted himself properly.
“Thanking Shen-shixiong for his generosity. Unfortunately, I will have to continue the process another day. I could not eliminate all of them.”
His ghostly shixiong didn’t seem bothered by the fact and nodded. “So your hypothesis works, that’s the least we can ask for. After all, you likely had these mites for a very long time anyhow.”
“I anticipate it will take three to four more sessions to clear them reliably.” Mu Qingfang confirms, or so was his best guess, really.
“We’ll just have to keep moving in the meantime.”
Notes:
Mqf: I'm fine, I can totally run on my own!
SJ, having witnessed him on the brink of death and seeing him utterly insane: You ARE NOT leaving my field of sight
Mqf: *surprised pikachu face*
The quote at the start is from the english official tl. Love you guys <3
Warnings: Canon typical violence, Past character death, mentioned torture, mentioned suicidalness
Next time: The adventures of Mu-shidi and Shen-shixiong part 1
Chapter 5
Notes:
The adventures of Mu Shidi and Shen Shixiong Part 1! Addressing some matters of the past, too.
Is this a tonal shift? Yes, probably but also probably well needed after everything from the previous chapters lmao.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
And moving they kept. Mu Qingfang quickly learned that Shen-shixiong had very much planned this entire endeavor from top to bottom, although the healer had been a factor unaccounted for. The ghost did not waste time to herd him to a town to get him different clothes, a veil and weimao.
“We do not want to be recognized. I can change forms, but you cannot entirely. This will have to do, if we ever cross into settlements.” Shen Qingqiu had grumbled in his typical snappish way. Mu Qingfang had not protested, for this was a sensible move. Besides, his old robes had been thoroughly ruined from blood stains anyway.
They wouldn’t linger in one place longer than a few days at most, leaving the same way they came: without a single trace. As they traveled, Shen-shixiong would pelt him with countless questions.
About why the healer had his ashes, why he had been running away. About what had happened in the years since the ghost’s death and what Luo Binghe had been doing. He asked a lot about Luo Binghe’s obsession especially, as if trying to puzzle together what had caused such a change within the emperor. If he had a hypothesis though, he did not share it with Mu Qingfang much to the latter’s disappointment.
The questions were always needling, sharp and unapologetic, but the doctor couldn’t help but be endeared by it. It triggered a bitter nostalgia, and a strange reassurance to him that despite everything, Shen-shixiong was still somewhat the same to what he remembered of the man.
Days when they were still upon the green mountains of Cang Qiong. Days they could never, ever return to again, the both of them irrevocably changed by wretched fates bestowed upon them.
Sometimes Shen-shixiong would be in a decent enough mood to entertain Mu Qingfang’s own questions. As much as the old forgotten urge of scientific pursuit surged within him at the prospect of examining a ghost and the peculiarities connected to that, he decided the important topics would have to come first. Such as what had happened to Shen-shixiong after his death, if he was a calamity, and what his plans were.
The answer to the second had been a court nod coupled with a familiar sneer, the last hadn’t been humored beyond a few basic strokes of a plan he had. Mu Qingfang chose to go along with that for now.
They also managed to clear out most of the blood mites successfully, meaning the demon emperor wouldn’t have an easy way to track them. And they couldn’t have acted sooner, for the half-demon had surely returned to his palace by now and found the disappearance of his court healer and the dead body he’d been obsessed over. To say that he was enraged at the discovery was an understatement, and surely even more so when he couldn’t pull on his trusted blood mites in order to find the doctor in no time.
The ghost and the healer now had to cover the latter’s face more often, for the emperor had set out a bounty for him. A very sizable one too, at that. Nevertheless, Shen Jiu still took him along whenever he went to meet some women for information on the palace. Mu Qingfang quickly realized those women were the former harem members. He would be lying if he said that seeing them doing well didn’t settle a piece of himself deep down. Still, once they settled again for the night, he couldn’t resist asking a few burning questions.
“Say, Shen-shixiong… these women, they are…? I was the main healer for the harem women, they seem familiar.”
“Yes. I suppose you would recognize them then.” The ghost answered him mildly.
“It’s good they’re doing well.” The healer let the silence settle, hesitating to bring up a particular former wife of Luo Binghe in front of his shixiong. Eventually, his curiosity and worry won and the question just tumbled out of his mouth.
“Do you know… perchance… what happened to Ning Yingying?”
Predictably, Shen Jiu tensed up, drawing in a sharp breath. He took a moment to answer and the healer didn’t dare rush him.
“Yes… She’s safe, if that’s what you were wondering.”
Mu Qingfang let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he had been holding onto. He knew Ning Yingying was now a fully grown and capable woman, but he had still had his worries when she left so suddenly that day. The world was far from a comfortable and safe place, after all, even him and Shen Jiu had run into their fair share of troubles and beasts running rampant. He had never brought up the entire situation between Luo Binghe and Ning Yingying to the calamity, partly because he had been trying his best not to think about the matter too much in the past few years.
“She has become the sect leader of the sect all these women from the harem are part of.” The ghost continued, watching him intently as his eyebrows rose up in surprise.
“Truly? I am glad.”
“You were worried about her.” It was posed as a statement and not a question, though he chose to entertain it regardless. No harm done.
“Yes, after all she left very suddenly after a fight with the emperor… I’m still shocked he let her leave just like that.”
“He did? I don’t suppose they were fighting because…” The ghost rubbed a hand on his neck absentmindedly. At the gesture the healer winced, remembering the gnarly scar he had mend on his shixiong’s body. The implication was clear.
“Yes. I attempted to take the blame but… I suppose Lord Luo simply knew anyhow.” Mu Qingfang sighed, running a hand down his face and nursing his temple, eyes screwed shut to chase away the memories.
Unbeknownst to him, the calamity had gone still, looking at him intently.
“You tried to protect her?” Eventually came the question that returned the healer’s attention to Shen Jiu. The latter wore an unreadable expression on his face as Mu Qingfang looked at him. Numbly, he nodded.
“Why would I have not? She does not deserve to be on the receiving end of the emperor’s rage. I could not stand by and let her suffer, even though I knew very well she had been the one to…” He trailed off, they both knew after all.
The ghost did not reply, still looking at the healer with this odd expression, like he was trying to find a lie within the healer’s words but could not. When he finally turned away, Mu Qingfang could have sworn to see a hint of a smile on his shixiong’s face.
“...Thank you.” Shen Jiu whispered.
They kept traveling and warming up to one another over the duration. The healer in particular now often gathered the courage to address some topics of the past he’d been curious about. This night was one of such occasions.
“Say shixiong, this might be an awkward question but… what really happened in the Lingxi caves with Liu-shixiong?” Mu Qingfang asked hesitantly.
Shen Jiu’s face settled into a disgruntled glare, flipping his battle fan over his wrists in a manner the healer knew meant agitation. “What would Mu-shidi want with that? The man is dead and I killed him.”
“Surely it’s not that easy. I… This one admits he could not perform a proper official autopsy, only a quick one while Liu Qingge was in the Cang Qiong Morgue…” The ghost turned towards him with a mildly scandalized expression. “What? I was curious and I had no official permission yet to see if I ‘was impartial enough towards Shen Qingqiu’, and later Liu-shizhi had requested the body be moved to Huan Hua Palace for analysis for the trial so…” He shrugged, not seeing the huge fuss. He had made sure to leave no traces! So unfortunately, he couldn't do much of an autopsy but he had still gleamed enough to have suspicions.
“...Your point, Mu-shidi? Apart from possibly desecrating a corpse?” At least his shixiong seemed more amused than annoyed now.
“My point is, his meridians screamed of qi deviation and I had not cleared Liu-shixiong to visit the caves for secluded cultivation. His chest wound had no traces of Xiu Ya’s and your qi signature but rather Cheng Luan’s. So tell me shixiong, just between the two of us, did you really kill Liu-shixiong?”
“What does it even matter? Could I have not just as simply taken the brute’s own sword to end him?” He snapped, his mood flipping back to annoyance.
The healer hummed. “That’s true, I suppose. For the record, I don’t care either way. Our martial siblings would have believed what they wanted to and not listened to you regardless of what you said.”
A sharp, bitter laugh trickled out of the calamity next to him. “So then you know very well why I chose not to say anything?” He ran a hand over his face, his laughter growing ever more bitter before trailing off entirely. Mu Qingfang merely gave him a nod, he did understand why his shixiong never said a word either way. Their martial siblings had been a stubborn lot, and it wouldn’t have made much of a difference in the end, with how strained the relationship between his martial siblings had been in the end. The silence grew between them, and the doctor thought Shen Jiu would just drop the topic entirely but then…
“...No shidi. I did not kill him. That brute had a qi deviation, I went to help him but he… he skewered himself on his sword before I could.”
Mu Qingfang gave the calamity a wide smile, so his suspicions had been correct indeed. “Thanking shixiong for indulging this one’s curiosity. I apologize for reawakening old unpleasant memories.”
Shen Jiu startled, blinking at him in surprise before eventually turning away with a huff.
Their journey had been rather uneventful. Perhaps too uneventful, for it seemed like the Heavens decided to no longer let them get away with it. The two of them usually avoided the bigger cities, the risk was simply not worth it. They were teeming with royal guards and people who could possibly recognize them from all the posters strewn about of Mu Qingfang’s face.
Just in case, they had started using spells to temporarily alter the healer’s appearance, just like the calamity would change his shape every few days. Truthfully though, such spells took a lot of energy to maintain, energy the healer was regretfully still building back up in between all the running and the years worth of horrid self-care habits he had accumulated. Most of the time, it was actually the calamity nagging and snapping at him to eat or sleep, reminding the doctor that he was still very much human and despite inedia and other benefits of being an immortal cultivator, he still was not a well of limitless energy.
However, in order to feed the living person between the two of them, they occasionally had to venture into nearby villages and smaller settlements. It had been safe to do so thus far and less of a hassle than hunting. Now though, the royal guard could be seen roaming even those, much to the broad populace’s discomfort.
Perhaps they should have taken this for the sign it was and run the moment they spotted the guards. But they did not, and it would prove to be a mistake. They simply went about their business, acting as though they belonged here and left again for the evening. Yet they hadn't stepped out of the settlement for longer than a few incense time, when the air crackled behind them. Driven on instinct, they had started running already from the sudden murderous intent in the air, though it was for naught as they were stopped in their tracks by a different portal sizzling into existence thanks to one cursed sword: Xin Mo.
“Found you, Shishu~” Luo Binghe’s voice was dripping with mockery and confidence as he stepped through the portal with ease, grinning at the both of them. His gaze lingered on the both of them, appearance altering spells at least confusing him a bit, even if he seemed to know who they are regardless.
To his credit, Shen Jiu sprung into action immediately, his fan surging forth with a swish of his sleeves. As the battle fan the healer had seen him carry around all this time unfurled, darts surged out its end, all aimed directly at the emperor. The demon lord gave a surprised grunt, though managed to avoid the glinting darts and sharp fan. Without giving the demon a chance of recovery, Shen Jiu’s hands flicked and the darts redirected and multiplied. The fan itself moved without obvious input from its users, as though the two were one entity.
‘A blood weapon!’ Both Mu Qingfang and Luo Binghe realized as the latter narrowly avoided a hit. Blood weapons were similar to spiritual weapons, in that they had a certain degree of sentience and a spirit, however, blood weapons were created through a sacrifice of life blood. As the revered weapons of certain circles of demonic cultivators, they were truly vicious weapons of many terrifying abilities, naturally details depending on each individual weapon. Some would inflict wounds that would never heal, others would continuously suck the afflicted out of spiritual energy and life force, until it crippled them entirely. Due to the high cost required to create such weapons, however, they were only very few in existence, usually tied to their master only. Rarely would these weapons accept other wielders by force or by choice.
Xin Mo made quick work of the near-neverending darts, though the emperor refused to stay on the defensive. He rushed forward, trying to crowd his ghostly shizun. Clearly, he had identified the calamity as the bigger threat for the time being, undoubtedly now sensing the palpable resentful energy emanating from Shen Jiu without restraint. The energy had nearly made Mu Qingfang topple, he had never realized that his shixiong had been so diligent in suppressing his aura around him.
Nonetheless, the healer refused to just stand by. Needles flying to his knuckles with practised ease, he threw himself into the battle.
“Shishuu~ Do tell, who’s your… companion?” Luo Binghe growled dangerously as he once again returned his attention to Mu Qingfang. The healer had to roll out of the way of a particularly nasty swing, scrambling to get more distance between them again.
“You should be more focused on yourself, beast.” Shen Jiu struck the emperor from behind, sending him flying with a surprised shout.
Undeterred, the emperor stood up again, eyes blown wide, undivided attention now on the calamity in disguise.
“...Shizun?” He whispered as he charged forth at Shen Jiu, Xin Mo flaring dangerously with oppressive force. Now it was Shen Jiu’s turn to be surprised, stumbling significantly in his stance, enough as to give the emperor an opening he seized.
Without thinking, Mu Qingfang pushed Shen Jiu out of the way of Xin Mo, the wretched sword nearly catching him instead. Using Luo Binghe’s confusion to his advantage, he let his needles fly towards the emperor, striking true and paralyzing him for the time being.
With no time to waste, the healer grabbed his shixiong by the wrist, making a hand seal with the other hand. His own spiritual sword appeared before the two which Mu Qingfang quickly stepped upon, dragging the calamity along in his arms. By the time they took off, his shixiong had righted himself properly again, steadying himself against the smaller doctor.
Mu Qingfang pushed his spiritual sword (which name he has long since forgotten, so he called it Forgotten in his mind) to the limits, speeding as far as possible before the emperor could possibly recover, the winds practically hissing past them. Suddenly, he felt the spiritual sword move faster, a steady new stream of qi flowing into him from where he and Shen-shixiong were connected.
“May I?”, came the calamity’s voice, his singular functional eye darting between Mu Qingfang and the sword. Understanding his request, the healer let the calamity take the lead of their flight. With Shen-shixiong in the lead and nothing to occupy his concentration with, the healer tried to not let his mind linger too hard on how close they stood together, the healer clinging onto the ghost’s shoulders to hold steady. Forgotten flew faster than he ever knew it could, thankfully following his shixiong’s lead without protest, leading them through the thick of the forest with precision. Eventually, after a few more turns and twists to confuse their traces, they landed in a clearing. Shen Jiu wasted no time drawing a teleportation array while Mu Qingfang put away his sword, tugging the healer through the moment he finished. The world twisted and turned, and then they were in a completely different place, hopefully far enough away from Luo Binghe and his delusions.
Finally safe for now, the two collapsed to the ground, coming down from the adrenaline height.
“Do you… think we lost him for now?” Mu Qingfang couldn’t help asking.
Shen Jiu hummed his confirmation. “The array vanishes without trace upon usage. The user must have the location in mind when using, the arrival place is not marked into the array itself, thus making it impossible to follow. We should have won ourselves a few days.”
The healer audibly sighed in relief. “Good. He recognized you too, despite your current form.” Indeed, the calamity was still in a disguised form, hardly resembling his original looks apart from the singular functional eye.
“I suppose my manner of speech gave it away. No matter, the people have started talking a bit too much about a new calamity, he would have found out eventually.” Shen Jiu sighed. They lay in silence, staring at the continuously darkening sky above them.
Eventually, the ghost turned his head towards the healer, an unreadable expression on his face. “You know that it does not matter if I get hurt, right? I’m dead, the injury would have hardly done long time harm. That was utterly reckless of you. Are you trying to win some sort of favor?” His brows furrowed, a slight scowl reappearing on his face.
Mu Qingfang merely huffed, of course his overly paranoid shixiong would assume ulterior motives. “There was nothing to gain except you not getting an avoidable injury. I know you are a ghost, but Shen-shixiong still would have been hurt. You might not mind, but I do, especially when I have the power to do something about it. And I got us out of there, did I not?”
Shen-shixiong quietly stared at him further as if to ascertain his sincerity, until eventually, he turned back to looking at the sky with a huff of his own.
Eventually, the ghost dragged them both back onto their feet, scowling and muttering about needing to move onwards anyhow, break over. If either of their hands lingered too long within the other’s, neither mentioned it.
They stayed on the defensive for many days afterwards. Shen-shixiong taught him the spiritual teleportation array for emergencies - after a few test runs he mastered it, though it required a lot of qi out of him, especially for two people (he had viciously rejected Shen Jiu’s suggestion that he’d use it for himself only). Further, he had altered both of their appearances with spells again, and made them change their clothes again. After all, their previous shapes had been compromised, so regardless of whether or not Luo Binghe would recognize them without looking at their forms, they still had to keep an even lower profile amongst the populace.
Off the roads however, they merely opted for their original forms. The emperor already knew of their continued existence, it would not matter if he ran into them like this. Occasionally, they would even wander through a settlement or two as such on purpose, if only to create stray sighting reports. If people bothered to report at all that is, most were just trying to keep their heads down and out of trouble.
Shen Jiu in particular insisted he should practice less inedia, for “he looked like a walking corpse ready to drop over”. That and he should recover his meridians before he relied too much on inedia again. In such moments Mu Qingfang mildly wished to be still able to criticize Shen-shixiong’s own meridians, but his ghostly meridians were truly without reproach. The healer supposed he deserved such nagging for how much he had tried to hound his shixiong about treating his damaged meridians during their time at the sect.
Truthfully though, Mu Qingfang was not used to having anyone look after him. It had always been the other way around, especially with his main profession. It should be him who fussed over his shixiong, not… this. But then again, he had only ever treated the living. Could ghosts even get sick? Did they need sleep, food, water or any other essential amenities of the living? He had tried asking Shen Jiu but his questioning was always dismissed. It truly seemed as though the other was perfectly fine with never eating or sleeping again, being the perfect picture of an immortal as the mortals imagine them to be.
And still he could see the calamity sway in his movements, slow down significantly or run out of energy at times. Mu Qingfang would then insist the other take some rest, though he had no luck in convincing his prickly, stubborn shixiong to properly sleep. It bothered the healer enough that he started to think back to the days at Cang Qiong Mountain, if there was anything he knew about the man’s sleeping habits from then.
The more he contemplated the matter though, the more a picture started to paint in his mind.
“Would shixiong feel more comfortable to sleep if this one was not present?” He casually posed the question one evening when they were sitting at a campfire.
Shen Jiu startled. “What? Do you wish to leave that badly? Can you no longer bear my presence?” His eyes narrowed, lips set into a snarl.
Mu Qingfang held up his hands in defeat and shook his head. This push-away trick of his would no longer work on him, the healer had decided after their first few spats in the early days of this… adventure. Mostly because he now saw through his prickly shixiong’s intentions to drive him away.
“No, that is not what I said and you know it. I just wonder why you will never sleep, despite clearly needing rest too. Don’t deny it.” He gave the calamity a stern look of his own, no longer content letting him get away with deflection.
“I just can’t, now shut it. I wasn’t lying about that.” Shen Jiu turned his head away, fan snapping open to hide his face.
“I understood that much, but I wonder why and most importantly how I can help. Believe it or not, I have no intentions of harming you, never once did in my life. I understand this may be somewhat of a rare occurrence in your existence, but I would appreciate it if you at least tried to not let yourself wilter. No one is a boundless well of energy, not even a supreme level ghost.” Mu Qingfang grumbled at his shixiong, a touch of his own frustrations leaking into his tone. Ah, shit. He was usually better keeping himself less… emotional. Hopefully Shen-shixiong wouldn’t take it the wrong way.
If anything, it had the effect of causing the other to look back at him, this infuriatingly unreadable expression back on his features. His fan stilled, still covering half of his face. Shen Jiu’s black pool of a remaining eye stared at his own, searching. They remained quiet for a long while, even as Mu Qingfang had turned away from the stare and elected to regulate his breathing and emotions for the time being.
“...I can’t sleep around men.” It was uttered barely above a whisper, easily missed in the ambient noise. The healer turned towards the calamity in surprise. “Well? You can laugh now.”
“Why would I laugh at you? Thanking shixiong for being honest with me.” The doctor blinked and finally smiled at the calamity. He had had his suspicions, but it was nice to have them confirmed. After all, Mu Qingfang remembered the ladies from the Red Warm Pavilion. He would occasionally descend the mountain to attend out-clinics, and he was strictly against denying anyone the care if they needed it. So, it was only natural he would check in with the local brothel if the workers needed anything at all, even leaving them emergency talismans. Regardless, some of the younger ladies and servant girls would gossip with him and ask him about how their Jiumei was doing up on the mountain. It didn’t take a genius to connect the dots that perhaps, Shen-shixiong had not been in the brothel for those services. And honestly, even if he was, who cared? Mu Qingfang was pretty sure others in their sect sought out such services, after all. Regardless, apart from that, he had noticed that, in the past, Shen-shixiong was often softer with women than he was with men. It’s part of the reason he had assigned one of his female senior healers on the peak to his shixiong just in case he felt more comfortable being treated by women. (Not that the man hadn’t always tried his hardest to avoid all of Qian Cao Peak as though it was made out of lava.)
“Isn’t it laughable? For a man to seek comfort in women? To be so weak he can’t handle sleeping in the same room as other men?” Shen Jiu laughed humorlessly, his fan snapped shut.
Mu Qingfang shrugs. “Not at all in this humble healer’s opinion. If that’s what it takes to sleep, so be it. Many might not agree, but women are not necessarily weak either, just like men aren’t necessarily strong. Would you like us to stop by a brothel for a night some time soon then, so you can rest properly?”
Once again Shen Jiu mustered him silently, before huffing a mirthless laugh. “No, but since shidi insists, I shall try sleeping. Is this agreeable?”
Satisfied, Mu Qingfang smiles. “It is. Thank you.”
Shen Jiu turns away with huff.
A few nights later, Shen Jiu finally caved and lay down to sleep. Mu Qingfang had wisely decided not to comment on it, nor to interfere - the calamity had denied any sleeping aids such as pills or god forbid needles, and the healer respected his choices.
Mu Qingfang himself tossed and turned for a while, unable to sleep this night, though it allowed him to catch the fact that his ghost shixiong fell asleep rather quickly, succumbing to exhaustion. Unfortunately, as the night progressed, he could tell Shen Jiu’s sleep was not a restful one. His face was contorted in pain, occasional incomprehensible mutters on his lips. Eventually, he awoke with a violent gasp, sweating profusely. Mu Qingfang startled up on the other side of the room of the shabby abandoned house they were resting in, needles flying from his sleeves to his knuckles out of long-honed instinct.
“Shixiong?” He probed carefully.
“What?”, came a reply that was certainly meant to be snappy and annoyed, but came out weak and wobbly instead.
“Are you alright?”
“...I’m fine.” A sighed lie, but Mu Qingfang chose not to dwell on it.
“Anything you would like to talk about?”
“No.”
“Alright.” Mu Qingfang nodded in emphasis.
“...You won’t push for details?” The other looked at him in astonishment, blinking slowly as he sat up properly and brushed the hair out of his face.
“No, shixiong can talk about it if he wishes to, but this one won’t push him. It’s not my place to pry if you do not want to talk about it.” He hummed assuringly. He knew Shen-shixiong would perhaps have trouble believing him, but it would not hurt to give him assurance, either.
Instead, the ghost kept staring at him in silent wonder and disbelief. Eventually, he broke out of whatever spell had taken hold of him.
“Did this one wake Mu-shidi up?” Ah, the closest to a verbal apology Mu Qingfang would ever get from the man. He couldn’t help his own smile.
“No, I couldn't sleep so I was awake.”
Shen Jiu seemed to tense up at the words momentarily before relaxing again. Moments passed until he stood up and walked… right over to Mu Qingfang?
Now it was the healer’s turn to be astonished as the calamity settled down next to him, primly crossing his legs and taking out some scrolls.
“Unless I am wrong in my assumption that neither of us is getting any more sleep tonight, we might as well use the time wisely. Let's go over the plans for the next few days again.” An elegantly raised eyebrow challenged him to disagree, but Mu Qingfang found he couldn't possibly say no to his shixiong, not when he was sitting there so casually, so calmly as he had hardly ever witnessed him.
They went over their plans until deep into the night, a spiritual fire lighting their corner of the room.
They woke to the morning light of noon shining through the cracks of the old hut, in an awkward heap on the floor. They blinked at each other, neither choosing to address it, nor knowing when they had fallen asleep.
Cheerfully Mu Qingfang noted his shixiong’s renewed vigor during the day.
The following days they would take to occupying themselves in the evenings before falling asleep where they were - usually in a terribly impractical heap. A simple mutual agreement, for the both of them slept much better like that. Even if the crick in Mu Qingfang’s neck would beg to differ on some days.
It eventually mutated to a routine of resting together, to a point where they would only require one bedroll on most nights, if they weren't staying in proper accommodations. Not that either of them felt safe enough from the demonic emperor to stay in more comfortable quarters such as inns.
Indeed, perhaps it would have only gotten them found sooner. The road they had elected to travel was well-worn, and they met the one or other traveling common people. The duo usually only acknowledged other travellers with a friendly nod and greeting, continuing as they had. Sometimes in complete silence, other times exchanging meaningless exchanges about nothing at all, more frequently observing the fauna. They had noticed a shared deep interest in the subject after all.
It had started with Mu Qingfang simply bringing up how much he missed Qian Cao’s library and the numerous reports on the fauna of the mortal and demon realms. Shen-shixiong had let him prattle on until he choked suddenly when the healer mentioned particularly mourning the loss of the other’s own works and encyclopedias on the flowers and botanical creatures. After all, as Qing Jing scholar and its peak lord it had been expected of Shen Jiu to conduct his own research and write his fair share of beautifully illustrated scrolls. Mu Qingfang himself distinctly lacked any artistic talent, as one would suspect from his horrid calligraphy - it was an open secret that any notes from him to others were usually re-written by his head disciple. After all, Mao’er had been the most adept at reading his horrid scrawl.
Meanwhile, Shen Jiu had truly lived up to his title of Peak Lord of Qing Jing - meticulous and elegant calligraphy. What the healer truly appreciated about the other’s fauna encyclopedias, though, was the detail of the records and illustrations. Every single oh so little fact was recorded and written down, sparing the reader the work of conducting too much additional research. Truly a healer’s dream when needing a quick but good reference to cross check with.
By the end of his prattle, Shen-shixiong was weakly swatting him with his fan, pointed ears and cheeks a bright scarlet. Mu Qingfang couldn’t help but find him utterly adorable.
However, with their luck, good times would not last. An incense time later, the calamity next to him tensed up significantly, and an oppressive demonic energy filled the surrounding air. They wasted no time getting off the road, straight into the thicket of the forest beside it.
“Aha, Shizun so callous!~ Would you turn away from your disciple so cruelly yet again?”, rang out the deep timbre of the demonic emperor, the fake sweetness clinging to the obsessive tone in an utterly sickening way.
That was all the warning they got before Xin Mo sliced between them, only pure instinct saving them both from severed arms (or really just the healer). They sprung into action, essentially swarming the emperor in a volley of projectiles - yet only a few truly hit as Luo Binghe flexed his qi and sent the needles and shards back towards them with a chuckle.
“Oh Shizun, you have made quite a name for yourself. Azure Shards Slaying Monsters, the people whisper, speaking of all the good you have done annihilating beasts~ Always accompanied by a certain traitorous Mu-daifu!” His voice dropped into a growl by the end, anger surging as his attention turned towards the offending party.
Mu Qingfang drew a sharp breath, narrowly avoiding being divested of his own head. Luo Binghe crowded his space, the furious slashes not slowing down as he continued his mad ramblings, voice dripping of vinegar.
“What does Shizun see in you?! Were you in on it the entire time? Were you leading this Lord astray, knowing exactly why Shizun’s soul refused the calls, only to backstab me at your earliest convenience?!”
Clearly he had gone mad. “What nonsense are you spouting?! Do you even hear yourself?” He knew he shouldn't engage, but the words tumbled out of him, enraged.
“Nonsense?! Then why did you leave, why is Shizun not coming with me!” The shout was punctuated with a dangerous swing of Xin Mo. The demonic sword would have cleaved into Mu Qingfang’s shoulder, and likely completely through - he had been unable to dodge.
However, neither him nor Luo Binghe had accounted for Shen-shixiong’s presence, too absorbed by their one-sided battle. The calamity had swung the closed battle fan forward, flying straight into Luo Binghe’s path - the qi it was charged with essentially halting the sword’s advance. In the meantime, the ghost had rushed to the healer's side, arms around Mu Qingfang’s middle pulling him away from the sword’s trajectory.
With a violent lurch of his heart, Mu Qingfang realized Shen Jiu had saved him from great injury - likely even snatched his life right from death’s hungry jaws.
He had no time to dwell on it though, as the fight continued, even though the emperor's attention was now firmly on Shen-shixiong again. Still, with both of them against Luo Binghe, the latter was miraculously starting to get overwhelmed.
Shen Jiu had rushed him, dagger in one hand and battle fan in the other, slashing alternately with both at the half-demon’s throat. With Mu Qingfang’s needles further limiting his range lest he gets hit by potentially incapacitating pinpricks, Luo Binghe struggled to regain footing in the fight, all his strength useless in the face of his lack of dexterity.
Shen-shixiong and the healer worked in perfect tandem to not allow the emperor to breathe even one moment. Mu Qingfang tripped him up while Shen Jiu chased after him with a swipe of his blades. Then, Luo Binghe made a mistake - and he got cut from the battlefan ran across his cheek down across his neck as he gasped from the blooming pain. He staggered backwards, only a hasty qi blast saving him from getting his neck cut off. It was, however, not enough to defend from the doctor’s needles readjusting to pierce the demon’s acupoints with a flick of Mu Qingfang’s wrists.
Luo Binghe started laughing, looking at his own blood on his hands in disbelief, as though he had never been struck in battle before. Perhaps, he hadn’t been in a very, very long time.
“Oh Shizun, you truly are magnificent! Why won’t you come back with me? I’ll give everything you could possibly desire!” He chuckled madly.
Shen Jiu sneered, kicking the paralyzed demon emperor to the forest floor. “As if I would ever believe this obvious lie, beast!”
Not even bothering to deign the knocked down one of any further words, Mu Qingfang grabbed his shixiong’s wrists, tugging. He was tired from the battle and they now had a perfect chance to retreat.
Shen-shixiong looked at him for a second, and with the emperor’s wound already knitting itself back together and his muscles starting to flex, the calamity called up a smoke talisman, while Mu Qingfang worked on the transportation array.
Just before the now recovered half-demon could reach them, they were gone.
In a clearing far away, two former peak lords collapsed on the ground as the adrenaline ran out.
Notes:
*prepares lawyer papers and adjusts tie* Your honor, I plead my clients are fucking stupid.
warnings: canon typical violence and a bit of blood. Nothing bad tbh.
Chapter 6
Notes:
At long last - We are going to see Tlj and Zzl again! Warning: I have no clue if I did those two justice. Please do let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions of improvement for Tlj and Zzl, cause I would like to write them more in the future.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
From this incident forward, they would have constant run-ins with the emperor, escaping in but the nick of time, even if their combined force did improve with the forced exercise. To Mu Qingfang’s surprise, the calamity let him help with his wounds - and then snippingly demanded to return the favor. The healer was too stunned to explain he could manage on his own, and couldn't help the warm feeling in his chest. Mu Qingfang even got used to Shen-shixiong’s limbs detaching and reattaching during combat, as disconcerning the sight was at first. Considering how he had died though, it made sense and well. Shen Jiu was hardly the type to neglect possible advantages and assets.
Further, the two of them started incorporating sparing into their routines - if only because the emperor's steady obsession with pursuing them put them both on edge. The steady practice at least gave them some sense of comfort, as well as monster hunting they regularly participated in to help out settlements. Even now, outright clinging to one another in the night, sleep came only with difficulty.
Despite all this, Mu Qingfang found himself feeling more alive than he had in a very, very long time. Getting up in the morning was more pleasant than a chore and though he missed practicing more medicine, he felt an odd sense of contentment whenever he would look upon his shixiong by his side. He found himself thinking more and more about the calamity, paying more attention to the way his thin eyebrows would rise so elegantly, the sweets he would sneak when he thought the healer was not looking or just how he liked his tea in the morning, every information carefully filed away for later.
Spending so much time with Shen Jiu just further confirmed his suspicions that truly, the man was not all that bad as the rumors would have had you believe. Dare he say, his scathing sarcasm and blunt, cutting comments were rather charming to the healer, especially because the cruelness was hardly directed quite as viciously towards him nowadays. Really, his shixiong was rather easy to read the longer one had to examine him. Sure, Shen-shixiong was particularly scathing and taciturn on some days, but his attempts to push away Mu Qingfang no longer worked on the doctor at all.
If anything, to the healer a lot of his words and actions spoke of a broken child, forced to grow up too quickly - someone who had never lived, just fought to survive with exceptionally bad luck. He doesn’t think a lot of people have ever bestowed Shen Jiu any kindness, much less kindness for the sake of it.
Maybe Yue Qingyuan had attempted in his ill-received attempts at placating the scholar, maybe he had been before whatever tore the two apart so violently. But amongst their martial siblings, there wasn’t anyone who attempted to befriend their prickliest shixiong. Naturally, the Qing Jing Peak Lord hadn’t made the task easy for them with his acerbic nature, or his refusal to explain himself, letting everyone assume the worst of him. In a way, Mu Qingfang could understand the attitude - it’s not like Liu Qingge had made a favorable first impression upon Shen-shixiong, for example. And it’s not like his explanations would have done much good. No, at some point his martial siblings were all too willing to believe the worst of him, evidence forgone on the way to a conclusion.
In summary, Shen Jiu was a lonely man. And so was Mu Qingfang, although in a different fashion. Perhaps, it was simply normal they’d find comfort in one another, especially in their circumstances. Perhaps, they would forever be hunted by the demon lord. Perhaps, they would not part even if they were not hunted. The healer found that he did not mind at all if such were to be the case.
By now, they had also created a few more plans, specifically in how to address likely the biggest problem: Xin Mo.
“...Are you sure you’re willing to potentially implode your cultivation base to destroy the demonic sword?” Shen Jiu eyed him intensely as he always did, a single black staring right through his core straight to his soul.
“I assure you of such Shen-shixiong. Besides, being a ghost is a viable option, would you not agree?” He chuckled, entirely unconcerned.
“You know the energy I have, I could do it as well.”
“No, Luo Binghe would see it coming if you did it. He hardly lets his eyes off you in battle, and he hasn’t let you touch Xin Mo even if you tried. Your battlefan is strong, but I doubt it can slice the demonic sword of legend in half. Besides, we need it annihilated.” Mu Qingfang reiterated. They had been going back and forth about this for a while now, revisiting previous arguments.
“Fine then, if Mu-daifu wants to die so badly.” Shen-shixiong sniffed rather unkindly.
The healer was momentarily speechless.
“I… I simply wouldn’t mind becoming a ghost instead. Being alive is such a chore.” He sighed dejectedly. Truthfully, the calamity had a point, when had he actually wanted to live? Had he been doing anything but going through the motions, days blending together to an indecipherable empty mess? Hadn’t he been hoping for every chance of death at Luo Binghe’s palace?
He knew he never would be killed by the emperor, yet that didn’t stop him from yearning for a way out of the bleak reality. All his options at the time had been hopeless, a survivor's guilt eating at him as he was unwillingly dragged onwards. He had not even minded the endless harem dramas either, it was all the same for him anyhow. They were patients, he was the doctor, nothing more than that. Perhaps, he had been far too useful to the emperor to ever be disposed of.
So yes, being alive was a chore, a task, a job Mu Qingfang fulfilled for the sake of fulfilling it. Nothing more and nothing less. And yet…
When he looked at Shen-shixiong, he found himself thinking he wouldn’t mind going through that chore, if only for a chance of living in peace with him.
“Truly, shixiong. This one would not mind.” 'Especially for you. I can’t risk your dispersion.’ He thought but did not add. It wouldn't do to startle the other so.
“...You will come back as a ghost.” It was posed as a statement, yet shaky and uncertain. There was a certain vulnerability in Shen Jiu’s eye, a desperate plea for him to confirm. A demand to not be left alone again.
“I am going to come back as a ghost. After all, I can hardly leave Shen-shixiong behind on his own, no?” Mu Qingfang smiled, the reassurance genuine.
“As if I need you to take revenge on the beast for Qi-ge.” The calamity snorts, averting his gaze. The healer recognized the words exactly for what they were, though - a thank you.
Days would pass where they’d hardly ever meet anyone on the road, not counting the practically faceless strangers in cities and villages. They were traveling through a thick forest again, barely any hint of a well trodden-path to follow. Hands intertwined to not lose one another in the bushes (like they had recently, it had made for a rather embarrassing shichen), they walked in relative silence.
The forest had been eerily quiet, unnervingly so. Not even birds were chirping, usually a bad omen. Neither of them had detected any beasts nearby though, so they could only forge on with their guard heightened.
So it was no surprise that when something lept out of the shade, one of Shen Jiu’s arms detached, battlefan in hand and swatted the approaching shadow away roughly. By the time the ghost had stepped in front of him, Mu Qingfang had a dozen spiritual needles between his knuckles or flying over them like a menacing halo.
A hiss came from the creature as it hit a nearby tree, hardly catching itself in time to avoid getting sprawled all over the forest floor. Their assailant now no longer hidden, Mu Qingfang carefully mustered the creature. It was a slender man with snake scales littering the skin visible to the eye. A brilliant green demonic mark sat on his forehead, mildly covered by strands of brown hair fading into turquoise. He wore a simple grey set of robes, clearly rough and used. Some snakes slithered out of the man’s sleeves, a forked tongue poking out of his lips in distress as expressive yellow slitted eyes mustered them in return.
Yellow eyes and a green sigil he recognized. This was the creature from Bailu Forest. The doctor lay a hand on the calamity’s shoulder before the latter could react too hastily.
“Shixiong, stand down. I know this man.”
He was met with an utterly bewildered look. “You do?”
He just nodded in assent. “Yes, when… you know, collecting the mushrooms I came across him. The emperor had batted him away and I treated him. Apologies, we do not know your name but you startled us. I do hope you meant no harm?” He hummed as he turned towards the snake man, needles retracted back into his sleeves for now. A few remained between his knuckles, just in case the creature was indeed there to attack them or seek revenge.
Instead, the creature slowly blinked at him, as if they were still restarting from hitting the tree. Finally, the snake recovered enough to speak.
“No no thisss one apologizes for startling you, Mu-daifu. Thisss one came to repay him for his kindnessss. Humansss have a saying: a drop of kindness should be repaid by a flood. Mu-daifu’s kindnessss far exceeded a mere drop.”
Mu Qingfang ignored the amused raise of eyebrows from Shen Jiu behind him with a cough.
“Junshang said to bring the healer that helped us to him.” The snake man continued.
“Junshang?” Both the doctor and the ghost exclaimed alarmedly. While they had an inkling of who the snake creature might be, the title ‘Junshang’ currently belonged to Luo Binghe, at least officially.
Shen Jiu took the initiative, his resentful energy roiling in the air. “Luo Binghe?”
“Who?” The man looked genuinely confused, as though he had never heard the name before. “Junshang is Junshang.”
Mu Qingfang awkwardly cleared his throat. “Luo Binghe is the name of the current Junshang. Would you mind giving us your name and the name of your Junshang?” The healer had learned long ago that his shixiong would be too snappy for such a situation, so he seamlessly took over the conversation.
“This one is Tianlang-Jun’s subordinate, Zhuzhi-Lang. Can this one escort you to Junshang?” The man blinked slowly up at them.
Suspicions confirmed, Mu Qingfang and Shen Jiu shared a look. The latter’s eyebrows were raised in surprise, a corner of his mouth quirked in slight amusement and a wealth of unanswered questions for the healer undoubtedly swirling in his mind. The healer in question is not certain he can even answer all those inquiries, but that would be a matter for a later time. For now, they shared a nod as Mu Qingfang turned back towards Zhuzhi-Lang, holding out a hand for the other to take and get up.
“We shall follow you.”
Eventually they reached a cave, Zhuzhi-Lang leading them in through the tunnels. Naturally, both cultivators were perfectly aware of the snake’s identity and the past it entailed. It seemed Mu Qingfang had unwittingly enabled the snake to free his uncle from his bindings, or perhaps they had been failing already with no one to maintain them and the merging of the realms. Thankfully, Zhuzhi-Lang was rather open to any questions they asked, even if that answer often consisted of “You can ask Junshang, this one couldn’t possibly hope to guess his thoughts.” Otherwise, they had traveled in silence, Mu Qingfang and Shen Jiu merely exchanging glances or quick characters drawn into hands, effortlessly communicating wordlessly.
It was only when they entered a cavern that the former demon general called out for his uncle.
“Junshang! I brought the healer and his companion.”
“Ah, nephew! Come in, come in, don’t leave our guests standing out.” A deep, smooth timbre beckoned them inside cheerfully.
Now approaching a lone figure sitting carelessly by a table in the back, Mu Qingfang remembered his manners and gave a polite greeting bow. Shen Jiu followed suit just a second later, even though the heavenly demon waved his hands.
“Oh my such formality! There is no need for this, come sit, let me see our saviour up close.”
“This humble healer did no such heroic deed. I merely helped a creature in need.” Mu Qingfang awkwardly coughed into a hand, steadily ignoring the huff of amusement from the ghost next to him.
The demon, Tianlang-Jun, undoubtedly judging from the prominent scarlet heavenly demon sigil on his forehead, was nothing like either of them had expected. Tales had painted him as a fearsome demonic emperor, the first to heel the demon realm under one rule in a long time. The very same who had supposedly seduced a Huan Hua disciple and planned a supposed ambush on the human realm. Frankly, Mu Qingfang was not in the habit of believing any babble from the shady Old Palace Master, for he was not a trustworthy man. He had seen how the old man had looked upon his own disciples, and later Luo Binghe. It had made his skin crawl with memories he dared not touch. He only regretted not slipping the old man any poison and something told him Shen-shixiong would agree.
Many things had been fishy about the situation between Su Xiyan and Tianlang-Jun, many they would hardly have the answers for. Regardless, unfortunately there was nothing they could do about it now. The former emperor of the demon realm no longer held the power he once did, after having been sealed under that mountain for decades upon decades (not that they had kept count of the passage of time). He was putting up a relaxed front, robes hanging lazily off his shoulders thus exposing his chest, lounging on the humble stone chair he had or perhaps this was just how he held himself. Mu Qingfang, however, could tell the emperor had not entirely recovered from injuries of the sealing just yet. There was a stiffness to his posture that shouldn’t be there, a sluggishness to the tilt of his head and wrist. Barely perceptible to the untrained eye, but Mu Qingfang is quite certain he would see as much even without his repaired glasses.
“And he is so humble, too! Ah nephew, you really got so lucky.”
“Yes Junshang, the demonic emperor would have slain me otherwise.”
“Well, let us introduce ourselves properly at least. You might have already guessed, but this one is Tianlang-Jun and this is my nephew Zhuzhi-Lang. Might I ask the name of our saviour and his dashing companion?~” The heavenly demon winked at them, giving his own lazy bow.
Mu Qingfang already felt a headache forming the more he heard him talking. “This one is Mu Qingfang.”
“Shen Jiu.” Shen Jiu snipply answered, arms crossed.
“Oh you found a feisty one there Mu-daifu!~ I hope you can forgive this one for poor manners, we currently have but this humble cavern to offer so I can’t offer you the usual human politeness of tea.”
Before the calamity could snip anything, Mu Qingfang spoke up. “That will not be necessary. We went along with your nephew to find out what you wanted with us simple travelers.”
“Well you see, my nephew and I are terribly in your debt. My adorable nephew wanted to repay you, he takes that sort of thing very seriously.”
The wording hit Mu Qingfang like a cold bucket of water over the head. The last demon repayment had been anything but good, could he be blamed for being apprehensive?
“Really, Zhuzhi-Lang kept going on about how kind hearted and pretty Mu-daifu is. Perhaps my nephew's hand in marriage could be a suitable repayment?” The heavenly demon rubbed a hand under his chin, smiling mischievously.
“Junshang no!”, immediately came Zhuzhi-Lang’s cry of flustered distress.
Mu Qingfang was struck speechless, his cheeks flushing red from Tianlang-Jun’s shameless commentary. Suddenly, he felt a cold wave of energy roiling next to him as Shen Jiu grabbed his hand, clutching it tightly. A glance at his shixiong only put him more at a loss of words. He was scowling darkly, lips raised in a snarl. Was… he jealous? No, he couldn’t possibly be. After all, why would his shixiong ever want his hand in marriage?
“This one will have to politely decline. I merely performed my duty as a healer. It was the least I could do.” He bowed his head with an awkward cough, once again declining whatever favor they felt they owed him. Luo Binghe had rendered him incapable of not fearing any sort of demonic repayment. Nothing good could possibly come from it. From their still connected hands, Mu Qingfang felt Shen Jiu rub circles into his hand.
“Really, you are far too humble. Ah nephew, you really know how to pick them.” He sighed wistfully, looking at their conjoined hands in amusement. Once again, the cold energy next to the healer increased.
“Is that all? Forgive this one’s rudeness but I doubt there is anything you can offer us at the moment.” Shen Jiu stated quite bitingly, Mu Qingfang nearly wincing at the sharpness of the tone.
Tianlang-Jun, however, didn’t seem to mind and chuckled sadly. “Quite astute observation, we have just begun to recover our strength and gather our bearings in this strange new world.” He made a pause, carefully assessing Shen-shixiong.
“Master Shen is truly an odd one. Though you hide your energy signature quite well, you are not a mortal, are you?” The demon shook his head to himself. “No, your qi rather reminds me of a demon. No no, I got it, a ghost, isn’t that right?” Tianlang-Jun chuckled in delight. “A powerful one too, perhaps a supreme level?”
Shen Jiu merely scowled harder, huffing as he turned away. “What does it matter?”
“Oh, I’m simply stating observations! Strong and feisty, and such a beauty too! If not my nephew’s hand in marriage, how about mine? Or perhaps Master Shen would like his pick?”
“No one will be marrying anyone!” To his horror, Mu Qingfang realized he was the one who shrieked this, tugging Shen Jiu closer to himself as the taste of vinegar spread in his mouth, a foreign stinging feeling white hot anger and self-loathing spreading in his stomach.
Embarrassed, the healer let the ghost go, coughing into a hand.
“I-i mean… this humble healer refuses your offers. Shen-shixiong should do as he wants.” He desperately wanted to avoid everyone’s looks and scrutiny, but there was hardly anywhere he could flee as his face ran scarlet red down to his neck. He instead chose to focus on calming his thundering heart.
Unbeknownst to him, Shen Jiu was looking at the healer in surprise, a small flush of his own tipping his ears.
“This ghost will have to refuse the offer as well. This one already has everything he could ask for.” was all Mu Qingfang heard as Shen Jiu once again gently grabbed his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. And oh, oh. Now the warmth remained on his face, although for entirely different reasons, his heart skipping a beat. He didn’t even need to look at the calamity to sense the intense look on him. He would have to unpack this later, wouldn’t he?
“Alright alright, apologies, I was unaware I was coming in between you two. Ah, truly unlucky nephew!” Tianlang-Jun gave a wink as if this hadn’t been mortifying enough already, his nephew was making tiny dying noises.
Shen-shixiong, bless his heart, changed the topic. “So, are you even aware of how the world changed during your confinement?”
Tianlang-Jun chuckled, allowing the change of topic. “Someone merged the realms with Xin Mo, am I correct?”
Hm, the demon was sharper than he let on. “Yes, Luo Binghe merged the realms long ago. Forgive this one for losing count of the years.”
The heavenly demon hummed in understanding. “I don’t suppose this Luo Binghe is some random demon lord? He does seem to have all the lands under control.”
“No, he is half a heavenly demon.” There was no point dragging out the inevitable conclusion, Mu Qingfang thought.
“Ah, so nephew was right. It is my son, then.”
An awkward silence descended upon the cavern, truly this was a sordid topic. In the end, it was Shen-shixiong who broke the silence with his usual sharp tone.
“So, what are your plans?”
Tianlang-Jun shrugged. “Truthfully esteemed masters, I don’t know. I was thinking, though, that that unruly son of mine could do with some competition. The world out there seems miserable.”
Shen Jiu hummed. “You’ll have to head to his palace anyway if you wish to find out what happened to Su Xiyan. Meng Mo should still be around to help you out as well.”
“...The Old Palace Master should be your goal. Unfortunately, the coot is probably still alive.” Mu Qingfang muttered. He couldn’t stand him and had always found ways to avoid being the physician to treat him, no matter how often he had insisted in the beginning. Now though, the bastard still persisting might be good for Tianlang-Jun to find the answers he sought.
“Well, splendid, once again I have to thank you for giving me guidance.” Tianlang-jun smiled. “Will you two be joining us?”
Shen Jiu shook his head. “No, that is unwise. Luo Binghe is very aware of our existence and is actively hunting us down. You are not recovered and moreover, he does not know of your existence yet. Keep it that way. We shall split up and that will be it. Focus on recovering to full strength, we would but weigh you down and paint a target on you. You will want to be back at full force to hope to stand up to your demonic brat of a son.”
It was harshly worded, but it made sense. Indeed, Mu Qingfang and Shen Jiu would merely bring trouble to the duo. It would be best if they forged ahead on their own.
Tianlang-Jun sighed dramatically. “Ah, unfortunately you speak sense, Master Shen. Splitting up is indeed wiser.” Before he could go on, he broke into a rough cough, his nephew approaching quickly again in worry.
Old instincts springing into action, Mu Qingfang looked up at the demon lord worryingly. “That doesn’t sound good. May this healer be allowed to examine you before we take our leave?” He looked over at Shen Jiu at permission, who merely nodded his assent.
“Ah, don’t worry about this old man!” The demon began to wave them off.
“If that would not trouble you, Mu-daifu.” Zhuzhi-Lang smoothly corrected his uncle.
Mu Qingfang nodded at the former southern border general and got to work, putting a hand to Tianlang-Jun’s wrist. Running a quick scan revealed merely a blockage and remaining scarring in meridians that had undoubtedly been left behind by the demon’s former binding. He was about to reach for a pouch, when he felt his shixiong drop something into his hands. Blinking, he looked up to find the exact pouch of pills he was looking for.
“You nearly left it behind this morning so I took it with me.”, was all the explanation Shen Jiu offered with a shrug.
“Thank you.” The healer gave the calamity a bright smile before looking back at his patient.
“Just a minor blockage. I’ve cycled your qi a little just now, I do suspect your blood mites as heavenly demons should be capable of clearing them.” He explained as he fished out a couple of pills. “These should be able to help you clear the blockage further. Cycle your qi after you take them in about 6 shichen from now.” He handed the pills to Zhuzhi-Lang, the snake demon, who seemed more reliable than the airheaded former emperor.
“Seems I have to thank Mu-daifu again. Is there truly nothing we can do for you?” Tianlang-Jun sighed ruefully.
Actually, now that Mu Qingfang thought about it...
“This one used to be infected by your son’s blood mites. I do believe I was able to get rid of them, but am I correct to assume you would know how to get rid of them permanently? Or be able to check?” He grimaced at the memory. It couldn’t be a pleasant experience if he still required any removal, but it couldn’t be helped.
Tianlang-Jun blinked and barked a laugh. “Is that all? Yes, that’s quite easy. I can indeed check. The only way to permanently rid yourself of blood mites, to my humble knowledge, is the owner dispersing them or another heavenly demon overwriting them. You’d have to consume my blood and trust my word that I will disperse them once I made sure none other blood mites remained.”
The healer exchanged a glance with Shen Jiu. It was a risky affair, but indeed what other options did they have? At least, so far it probably would be better to have Tianlang-Jun’s blood mites than Luo Binghe’s. After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, and all that.
“Do it then.” Mu Qingfang finally nodded with a deep breath.
“Alright. I warn you, it will likely be a deeply unpleasant experience.” The heavenly demon was kind enough to warn as he ran a nail over one of his forearms, Zhuzhi-Lang having readied a cup to catch the scarlet blood dripping down.
The wound started closing up immediately as the demon sliced, truly fascinating to Mu Qingfang. Mournfully, he thinks he would have loved to examine the phenomenon more when he got the chance. Alas, any science would have to wait until they weren’t literal fugitives of the law (Luo Binghe) anymore. With an incline of his head, he took the offered cup.
“A sip is enough, even the tiniest drop is usually enough, after all.” Right, Mu Qingfang unfortunately remembered that much from Luo Binghe having violently shoved a sliced palm to his lips and forced him to drink.
He squeezed his eyes shut to chase away the memories and drank a sip. Huh, it tasted very copper-y and unpleasant, he couldn’t help but make a face. He didn’t remember having much of a sense of taste the past years, though with how many other senses were returning, he should not have been surprised by taste returning as well.
As soon as he swallowed, he could feel the unpleasant crawl down his throat, into his skin, into his blood. He couldn't suppress a shudder.
Some silence passed as Tianlang-Jun concentrated on his work, tapping his nails idly on the stone next to him.
“Hm, you did a fine job of clearing any blood mites, however you did it, Mu-daifu. Truly incredible. There are however some remnants you missed that I cleared up.” Ah, so that had been the flashes of mild pain. More time and discomfort passed before the demon chimed up again.
“You should be completely cleared now. Do you wish to take a break before I disperse mine or..?”
It was tempting but… “No, let’s just get it over with.” He gave a deep sigh.
“Alright, you might want to sit down for that.” And that had been the only warning he got before white hot pain seared through every fiber of his being. He only noticed that he must have swayed on his feet when a pair of slender arms caught him and lowered him gently to sit on the floor. It felt as though an eternity had passed before the feeling finally subsided and he could breathe more easily again. Unpleasant experience indeed, but he has had worse. He unfortunately knew the highest agony those wretched blood mites could inflict from personal experience.
Cool crisp qi soothed his system down from the heated pain, a steady current that further steadied him back in reality. Right. Deep breaths, in and out. In and out. Touch the stone floor of the cavern, feel its coolness. ‘You are not with Luo Binghe.’, he repeated in his mind until he believed it. His erratic breathing calmed down as he did, Shen-shixiong’s arms around his shoulders grounding him further.
Once he was ready again, he opened his eyes and faced Tianlang-Jun who was watching him carefully.
“Thanking… Junshang for his help.” He eventually wheezed out. The demon practically beamed from joy, nodding cheerfully.
“It is done, you should be free of the pesky little blood mites now.”
“How do we know for sure they’re gone?” Shen Jiu seemingly couldn't help but ask.
Tianlang-Jun shrugged and smiled. “You’ll just have to believe me. Though, could you not sense them in the blood yourself? You can check and see for yourself. My nephew and I truly wish you no harm, we are very thankful indeed for Master Mu’s gracious help. Consider it a simple exchange, Master Shen.”
Mu Qingfang could hear him grumbling, but merely patted the calamity on his arms with a sigh. It was as good as they could get.
“Thanking Junshang and his nephew once again. I do believe though it is for the best if we get going. We really don’t wish to alert Luo Binghe to your existence.” The healer picked himself up from the floor, the ghost helping him along. He dusted himself off and gave a polite bow, tugging Shen Jiu down to one as well.
“Very well, let us hope we will be able to cross paths again in the future.” Tianlang-Jun gave them one last striking smile and wave as they turned around and made their way out of the cave.
It was time to continue outrunning their hunter.
Ever since the calamity had taken both his own ashes and the shards of Xuan Su from Mu Qingfang’s person, he had never seen the ghost take them out. Tonight, however, he had.
They had found an abandoned hut in the forest, in decent enough shape to offer cover from the elements for a night or two. After cleaning it up as far as they could, they settled down in the main room. Mu Qingfang had gone to wash up in the nearby river and had just returned, stumbling in on the scholar looking upon sword shards on the floor. Xuan Su.
He did not look up as he startled the healer further. “Mu-shidi, what do you know about this sword?” His delicate eyebrows were pinched together, a poorly hidden pain in his single eye. His long black hair was left open, falling in rivers around his gaunt face and back. The healer was hit with the sudden desire to brush those strands out of his shixiong’s pretty face.
He shakes himself out of his thoughts, how ridiculous! He sighed and answered. “Not as much as I would like.”
Carefully, like he was approaching a feral cat, he sat down next to Shen Jiu. “I know it was tied to Zhangmen-shixiong intricately. I was just told he was never to draw the sword. His files were incomplete and my shizun refused to speak about it. And so did Zhangmen-shixiong. He was treated by my shizun after the sealing of Tianlang-Jun.” He shook his head, leaning his elbows on his crossed legs. Truly, this was all he knew, well, outside of his own hypotheses. He figured there was no harm in revealing this much, after all, there had always been a weird relationship between Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu.
“Hm.” The ghost hummed emotionlessly, listlessly staring at the sword shards. Eventually, he picked up some of the shards in his hands. He held onto them tighter and tighter, until the shards cut into his hands. At that point, Mu Qingfang jumped forward, grabbing hold of Shen Jiu’s wrists.
“Shixiong!” He scolded as he tried to carefully pry the shards out of the ghost’s hands. Instinctively, he sent a wisp of qi through the hands, examining the damage. Thankfully, he had reacted early enough for the injury to not be too deep. With a relieved sigh, he directed the calamity’s qi to heal the wounds, mixed with some of his own. Slowly, the deathly pale skin knit back together, only leaving the traces of blood as remnants. Only then did it occur to the healer that he had not asked for permission to touch the calamity, so he looked up at Shen Jiu’s... complicated expression? Odd, he had expected him to be furious with him.
“Please, do not hurt yourself like this.” Finally, his poor heart calmed. He had fished out a jar of clean water he carried in his qiankun sleeves for medical purposes and started washing out Shen Jiu’s hands carefully, all the while the other made no attempts to stop him or even move the slightest bit.
“My heart cannot bear it.” He whispered mostly to himself, but with how close the two of them were, the other might have heard as well. Silence reigned as Mu Qingfang finished cleaning off the blood of both of their hands. He could have sworn to have spotted some pink dusting the calamity’s pointy ears, but he focused on his task, only daring to look up after the hands were clean and unscathed.
He came face to face with Shen-shixiong’s silent and unreadable expression, the slight wonder in his eye mixing with confusion. His lips were ever so slightly parted, astonishment now more apparent in his features. Slowly, he retracted his hands, but not before giving his a gentle squeeze that betrayed his words.
“This was unnecessary.” The ghost-shixiong sniffed, face turning away. Mu Qingfang merely smiled fondly.
“Shixiong is welcome.”
Silence settled once more as Shen Jiu’s attention returned to the shards of Xuan Su and Mu Qingfang cleaned off the shard that had cut him. After all, it would not do to leave the blood on it, it was a source of potential infection and further the healer suspected Yue-shixiong would not want Shen Jiu’s blood spilled on them.
“You don’t have to answer, but who was Yue Qingyuan to you?” Finally, curiosity consumed him and he just had to ask. As always, he had suspicions, but if there was anything Mu Qingfang had learned about dealing with his shixiong, it was that the waters were murky and ambiguous, the rumors just that: rumors.
“...A brother who I thought for the longest time wanted nothing to do with me and to wash himself of the stain that I was on his pristine reputation. But now, I’m not sure I knew the man at all.” Shen Jiu whispered, the words coming slowly and monotonously, as though the pain hollowed him out so much that not even an ember of emotion survived. They let the words stand in the room, with all the sorrow they carried.
“You know, I had a sibling too.” Mu Qingfang mused aloud after a while, voice low and distant. Somehow though, he felt he could share this story with his shixiong and he had a feeling he would understand.
“Did you now?” Shen Jiu snorted mirthlessly but made no motion to stop him.
“I did. Many actually, but I did not care for any of them, our parents sold many of us off after all. But there was only one I cared about, my sweet little sister. She was sickly and the reason I sought to become a healer, if only because everyone brushed off her suffering. One day, I simply carried her on my back and went to Cang Qiong’s selection trials, not looking back at our worthless parents even once. Unfortunately, shizun, she…” Even after all these years it was difficult to formulate the words, words he had never actually voiced aloud until now. “She sent my sister away. I was practically confined to Qian Cao. By the time I got off the mountain she… my sister was gone. I was too late.” He ignored the way his voice shook along the way, or the slight sting in his eyes. He should be long since beyond the hurt, but the pain never truly went away. The guilt of survival, the bitter sting of a failure as he would never feel again in such intensity as when he thought about Mu Li. He was not supposed to feel these emotions about patients and mortals according to his shizun. But what had she ever known, apart from her own arrogant, self-imposed bitter delusions? The words of a broken woman who had never recovered from her injuries and made it her goal that everyone would suffer as she had?
“Sounds like you had been close.” Shen-shixiong muttered to himself. Mu Qingfang took a deep breath, heart hammering painfully in his chest, as it did every time he thought about the past too long.
“Not exactly. Maybe before, but by then I hadn’t even seen her in years. My parents sold her off, but I doubt she even fetched them a good price. I made her a grave, by her favourite tree. In the end, I regret not having insisted more for her to be taken in. I regret so many things, as pointless as it may be. But I had to continue for her. And out of spite to my shizun, who gave me this wretched guan.” He had taken out the cursed item again, showing it to his shixiong.
“I recall you wearing it until our ascension to peak lords but never again after. If you hate this thing so much, why did you not destroy it?”
…It was a fair question, deserving of an honest answer.
“I don’t know.”
Shen Jiu hummed. “Get rid of it then. Don’t let your shizun control you so from beyond the grave.”
His shixiong had a point, still, he stored it away in his sleeves for now. He’s had it for so long he can’t imagine not having it, but looking at Shen Jiu he thought that perhaps, one day he could.
Mu Qingfang was no fool. He knew the calamity had been chasing them around the country with reason, visiting specific places, talking to specific people in specific disguises. It was not as though the ghost hid it from the doctor, either. They just had never addressed it, the doctor content to tag along and help out in negotiations with his own expertise (that is, offering healer services).
After all, his shixiong was content to indulge Mu Qingfang’s own requests, usually because he would offer help to people who needed it. Whether that was checking on a band of street children, soothing the joint pains of an old couple or assisting in less fortunate places, the calamity let him do so, much to the healer’s joy. He had missed being among the common people, as he felt he could do more good there these days than he ever had haunting the palace for the past years. He had always encouraged the healers he taught at the palace to be compassionate and help even those who could not afford a healer with money, for everyone deserved a chance. He wouldn’t know if they heeded his advice though, and he was not allowed to hold clinic days outside of the palace walls anyhow. For a majority of his life, Mu Qingfang had been practicing medicine, and thus this was not an aspect easily removed from his very being.
“Ah, I hope shixiong doesn’t mind.” Mu Qingfang would always say before getting too far into his work.
The calamity would nod, humming simply. “It is fine, get to work A-Fang.” The healer would smile, Shen Jiu would look away with a flush and that would be that. (Mu Qingfang was not sure when exactly they started with the nicknames, but he found that he rather enjoyed them.)
Tonight though, his curiosity got the better of him.
“Say shixiong, have you been destabilizing and causing harm to Luo Binghe’s reign to get your revenge on him for your brother?” He casually brought up while they were enjoying a simple dinner.
Shen Jiu paused, mustering him carefully. “Yes, not as though I have hidden it, did I now?”
“That is true. I merely got curious.” Mu Qingfang laughed. They continued eating in silence for a while, before eventually the calamity looked at him again questioningly.
“Does it bother you?” The ghost’s stare gave nothing away, the void in his eye intensely staring into his soul. In all the time Mu Qingfang had spent with the calamity though, he had grown used to it.
“Why would it? The brat had it coming.” The healer delighted in the little chuckle that answered him.
“Truly? Does this not oppose any of your healer vows?” Shen Jiu continued to needle him
He grimaced, thinking back to the years under Luo Binghe. “Pardon this one, but I’m afraid I've tarnished them long ago. Besides, is the kingdom not falling apart on its own anyhow? He has been a neglectful and bad ruler of his subjects especially the past years, he should not be surprised that it comes back to bite him. The people deserve more stability and peace than he has ever brought, in this humble healer’s jaded opinion.”
A hint of a frown wandered onto his shixiong’s face. The healer reached over to pat one of his hands, to reassure both him and himself.
“Truth be told, if I had that sort of strength, this healer would have gutted Luo Binghe himself long ago.” He hummed with a playful smile.
The mere memory of Shen Jiu’s wicked grin would energize him through the rest of the following week.
They were getting weary as the seasons progressed with the emperor still hot on their heels. Nonetheless, they persisted, unwilling to lose now after everything they stood to gain. Luo Binghe could not speak of the same, driven more and more towards the edge to insanity with every encounter. Where Shen Jiu and Mu Qingfang had found some sense of peace, he was only driven mad for it.
His obsession for the former Shen Qingqiu in particular had not lessened. In fact, the healer felt like little more than an accessory to the fights, Luo Binghe’s entire attention absorbed by the calamity. He would barely spare Mu Qingfang a glance, his betrayal and fight interference long since forgotten in the face of the one whose love and affections he desired the most. Unfortunately, that place was taken in Shen-shixiong’s heart - not that Luo Binghe could ever hope to take it. Not after slaying Zhangmen-shixiong.
However, recently the calamity had been looking at Mu Qingfang more frequently, that intense scrutinizing gaze upon his person until…
“You know, you don’t have to stay anymore. You could just stay with Tianlang-Jun and his nephew. They owe you a life-debt, they are more than adept at protecting you.” Shen Jiu started one evening. His face hardly betrayed any of his emotions, eyebrows scrunched together just a tad.
Mu Qingfang startled at the suggestion, looking at his shixiong almost affronted.
“Why would I want to leave?”
An elegant eyebrow rose as a single black eye bore into his soul. “To not have to live like this, to not have the constant threat of the beast attempting to slay you. We both know he’s been ignoring you.”
“What of it? What if I don’t mind? Do you want me to leave?” The healer challenged, ignoring the pangs of hurt he felt at the possibility that his presence was no longer desired.
The calamity looked away. “Mu-daifu should not burden himself with a thing such as I any longer. Leave far away and never come back.”
Mu Qingfang remained silent, working the words over in his head. He wanted to yell at the other, to shake him until he understood he was not a thing. He wanted to admonish him for his choice of words, the healer’s poor weak heart breaking at the implication of being unwanted.
But the rational part of his mind understood the biting comment for what it likely was: A sad attempt to push him away, push him away lest he left later on, sparing them both the greater heartache. The healer took a few calming breaths before inching closer to the calamity.
“Your words wound me deeply, A-Jiu.” Thankfully the proximity meant he did not miss the other’s flinch. “I detest the implication I would simply leave after everything. That I would simply leave when I finally have something worth fighting for, someone worthwhile to wake up to every morning.” Mu Qingfang reached gently over to tug Shen Jiu’s face to look at him, not hide away from him. To look into his eyes and see his sincerity for himself, even as the calamity’s eye went wide, his lips ever so slightly parted in shock.
“I don’t want to leave. I won’t leave if you don’t tell me, in no uncertain terms, that you do not wish for my presence in your life any longer. I hate that you think I would abandon you later. Be warned, Shen-shixiong, that not even in death I would leave you alone. So, do you want to wash your hands of this healer?”
“I…”
“Yes or no, A-Jiu.”
“...No. Don’t you dare leave.”
Mu Qingfang smiled. “Then you shall never get rid of me.” He received a very rare, but no less brilliant and beautiful smile in return before the calamity surged forward and let him taste that sugar sweet genuine uptick of the lips for himself.
Later that night, Mu Qingfang took out the guan his shizun had bestowed upon him so long ago. He watched it crumble easily with but a flick of spiritual energy, the ashes carried away by the wind. Somehow, he was certain he would no longer need it.
Notes:
I swear I don’t why these idiots just don’t simply want to kiss, I TRIED. I TRIED YOUR HONOR. It took *checks wordcount* entirely too long for them to kiss
Chapter 7
Summary:
It was time to end the chase.
Notes:
Hello everyone! Apologies, this chapter took longer to edit. And also, I have been running on barely any free time lmao. Anyway, this is technically the last story chapter! Next up are only extras, if you wish to stick around for those.
Warnings this chapter is only that this is where that Major Character Death comes in. Take care and thank you for sticking through until now!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The upcoming weeks remained fairly peaceful for them. They lived in almost mundane domesticity, if you ignored the raging mad emperor tailing them. Even though Luo Binghe would wish to hunt for them around the day, he was still the emperor of these lands and had duties to attend to, as much as he wanted to roll them off on his right hand man and his now divorced second demon general Sha Hualing.
For the duo, this thankfully offered a tentative break to regather some strength and rest from more intense phases of constant run-ins with the emperor.
Unfortunately though, these phases were becoming shorter and shorter, hardly allowing enough time to recuperate. Especially not for Mu Qingfang, who started to mildly feel like he was a burden to the calamity, no matter how much A-Jiu assured him it was not the case. After all, the undead had plenty of energy to keep going, but he had to rest, eat and take care of this tiresome body. Becoming a ghost himself sounded more and more tempting each day. And perhaps, there would be an opportunity there soon.
For now, he had to keep going. Just a little longer, so Shen Jiu would believe him that he was genuine with his wish to stay with him.
“I think we will have to act upon our plan sooner rather than later.”
“NO! We can manage-” The calamity immediately rebutted him, hissing and hackles raised.
“No, we cannot. You saw how close we got last time. The sword is undoubtedly also feeding his obsession. We must get rid of it.” Mu Qingfang sighs heavily, running a hand through his fringe.
“Please, we have talked about this.” He continued, reaching out for Shen Jiu’s hands. “Besides, I don’t mind being a ghost, you know that. I won’t leave you not when I…” ‘Not when I finally have you as a reason to persist again.’ are the words that he couldn’t voice. Not yet anyway, not when it could hurt Shen Jiu so much. Gently, he held and rubbed the ghost’s hands, as they were placed in his. The very same ghost that was looking at him, seething and pain written plainly on his face.
“Don’t you dare leave me.” Shen Jiu snarled as he closed his hands tightly around the healer’s. A certain sense of desperation leaked into his voice, a desperation to not be left behind, once again, in a promise long forgotten. (‘But kept after all. Oh Qi-ge, why did you never tell?’)
“I won’t. I will make a blood oath if that is what it takes for you to believe me.” Mu Qingfang assures him softly. In a moment of pure insanity on his part, he tugs Shen Jiu close by their connected hands. He lays his cheek on one of those deathly pale and slender hands adorned with blackened sharp nail and tucks the other to his chest. “Please.” he whispers, “Please let me do this much for you. I have failed you enough.”
In the middle of the night, Mu Qingfang silently got up after putting a few needles into the acupoints of the calamity lying next to him. Shen Jiu had been awake for a while clinging stubbornly onto the doctor, but eventually exhaustion must have caught up to him so that even a supreme ghost could not resist a few hours of sleep. Logically, the healer knew the needles wouldn’t paralyze and keep Shen Jiu asleep for long, but it would buy him just enough time to head out and reach the obsessive half-demon hot on their trail. He couldn’t risk him interfering with the plan.
Mu Qingfang knew they had talked about this and had come to an agreement for this emergency plan, but it seems that the calamity has since… grown to no longer agree. Surely, it would upset him greatly and even Mu Qingfang was pained to leave him albeit temporarily, but it would be alright. It would have to be alright eventually. They could not continue outrunning the half-demon for all eternity, and there could be no peace for anybody in this wretched world for as long as Luo Binghe still had Xin Mo.
They had considered the option of Shen Jiu attempting to take the sword for himself. However, this was the plan Mu Qingfang had vehemently protested. The demon sword was most definitely not to be trusted, and they could not risk the strongest fighter between them getting incapacitated by the possible spiritual backlash of bonding with the sword (by force or otherwise). Further, even if they could steal the sword and take it for themselves, they would have to feed it. Mu Qingfang was unwilling to do this to Shen Jiu, even if the man himself didn’t mind. He just could not bear the thought. And ditching the sword just meant the half-demon brat could retrieve it, putting them back to square one. Shen Jiu imploding the weapon would likely not work either, for an opposing energy would be needed, not one that would merely feed the sword as it would be the case for his energy.
This left them only with one option: destroying the wretched cursed sword so no one could ever again have it. Chances are this would take incredible amounts of spiritual energy, energy Mu Qingfang had been stockpiling just in case. It would be alright.
With one final guilty look at Shen Jiu and a final kiss on his forehead, the doctor slipped out into the night.
Indeed, he did not need to walk around outside too long before he heard a sizzling portal open up behind him. He had at least managed to get quite a bit away from their hiding spot, hopefully buying him more time before the no doubt furious calamity would come for both their heads.
As the murderous intent behind him increased tenfold, Mu Qingfang let old instincts work as he dodge-rolled out of the way, just before a certain black sword could shorten him by a head.
“Lovely night, isn’t it emperor Luo?” He smiles cheerfully at the demon as he lands smoothly some feet away, needles now glinting between his knuckles. He may be healer, but he would have never become peak lord if he didn’t have some martial ability. He was no Bai Zhan Wargod, but he had been able to wrestle Liu Qingge down in the past to treat the stubborn idiot.
“Mu-shishu!” Lou Binghe’s voice practically visibly dripped with a faux-kindness. “So rare to see you alone these days. Truly Shizun’s most loyal pet.”
Mu Qingfang clicked his tongue. “Oh that’s called mutual companionship, Luo-shizhi. I’m not surprised that you wouldn’t know the difference, though.”
The demon lord snarled and charged him, forgetting to question him further in his sudden surge of rage. Again Mu Qingfang was ready, dodging swiftly and sending needles flying at the half-demon. Luo Binghe was forced to avoid and bat away the needles aiming for essential acupoints, stalling him enough that Mu Qingfang could get out of the demon’s immediate range. Mu Qingfang continued throwing needles as the emperor ran to him again. They continued this sort of exchange for multiple rounds, neither side showing signs of tiring any time soon.
“Why do you insist on keeping Shizun from me?! Why would you not understand the desire for revenge?! You of all people should know it best! You slayed your own shizun with your own hands, after all.” The half demon roared, the pain and anger mixing into a bitter tone, making him sound honestly rather pathetic.
“Maybe so, but I am but a human, Luo Binghe. And I’m a selfish man. Shen-Shixiong has paid his dues and I don’t like people threatening what’s mine.” He clicked his tongue. No, they were not at all comparable. Luo Binghe had razed everything in his revenge. Mu Qingfang had never wanted more than Qiu Anxiang’s head. In fact, he had worked hard to change the conditions for students and healers on Qian Cao Peak, to steer it away from the violent cycle that had persisted for centuries. Where Luo Binghe had continued the cycle, he had aimed to break it.
And the very man before him had slaughtered them all.
He hoped some of his disciples and colleagues had been able to escape safely, and now lived far, far away, healthily and happy. But he knew better than to hold onto pointless dreams. They never had done a fucking thing to Luo Binghe, and yet they were mercilessly killed in front of him, together with the remaining peaks. And the brat had the gall to call that justice. Had the gall to force him to stay alive for so long, force him to work for him, force him to play a farce under his thumb for so long, as if Mu Qingfang should grovel at his feet in gratitude for the torture of a continued existence.
The raw anger and resentment in him boiled higher and higher the further his thoughts lingered on the past years, so Mu Qingfang seized it and let it go with another vicious volley of poisoned needles. Luo Binghe grunted in surprise, as he just narrowly avoided the fatal needles if they had struck true. (The healer sincerely doubted a few needles to the brain would kill a Heavenly Demon - but at least it would have surely hurt.) Xin Mo cut the needles neatly into pieces, pieces that immediately sizzled at the emperor again. And so began more tiring of their exchange rounds, no end in sight.
Well, outwardly that is. Truthfully, Mu Qingfang’s needles were, in fact, limited, as he had to save his spiritual energy for another purpose instead of recalling needles. Thankfully though, the emperor seemed to not have picked up on this fact just yet. However, he hoped his time approximation of just how long Shen-shixiong would be knocked out and bound was correct, he could use a distraction for the demon really soon.
Almost as if the calamity could read his thoughts, during their next charge-retreat round Mu Qingfang could sense a certain very angry energy rapidly approaching their location. Very rapidly in fact.
Before the emperor had time to pick up on this though, it was already too late. Just as Luo Binghe was charging the healer, a blur shot past the doctor, crashing into the demon before throwing the runt back with a spiteful force Mu Qingfang had never seen Shen-shixiong exert before. Not even in the worst of his fights with Liu Qingge.
“You DARE!” The calamity bellowed all the while, clearly incredibly pissed. He had not even taken out the needles properly, Mu Qingfang noted with some amusement that was immediately overwritten by the sting of guilt.
“Shizun! How gracious of you to finally join us~” Just as predicted, the half-demon’s attention immediately became wholly absorbed by Shen Jiu appearing on the scene, even though he was forced into the defensive as the calamity kept pursuing him with reckless abandon. Mu Qingfang stood ready, waiting for the right moment. He popped a few qi replenishment pills he had prepared for this in advance for good measure, it would be of no matter very soon if he had far too much qi coursing through his meridians.
Just as Luo Binghe stumbled past him struggling to retrieve his footing, Mu Qingfang seized the opportunity to latch onto Xin Mo. Before the demon could swing back at the calamity, the healer gripped the sword with full force, uncaring of how the blade cut painfully into his arms and torso.
There was a bright flash all of a sudden, gone as soon as it came when Mu Qingfang overloaded his meridians to implode his cultivation system. Faintly, he registered Xin Mo springing into a million useless pieces, not having been able to withstand the full blast of the core implosion. The healer smiled to himself, unaware of the shocked stares upon him. ‘At least it wasn’t for naught.’ He thought as the world went black before his eyes.
All Shen Jiu could hear was the ringing in his ears as he saw Mu Qingfang’s body hit the floor, lifeless. The beast now forgotten, he rushed to the healer’s side, turning him around only to see a lifeless expression and blood running down his face. He called out to him multiple times, fruitlessly looking for a pulse that was no longer there. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he reached up with shaking fingers to gingerly close the healer’s now empty eyes. Ever so carefully, he removed the shards of what used to be Xin Mo from his face, even if logically Shen Jiu knew the healer could no longer feel the pain. With a small burst of his own energy, the shards crumbled and vanished into ash in the wind.
Unfortunately, this seemed to be when Luo Binghe finally shook himself out of his shock and started laughing madly.
“So that’s what Mu-shishu had been planning… Clever little doctor.” He muttered he watched the shards of Xin Mo crumble and disappear with the gentle night breeze almost sadly. “Say, how does it feel that he is gone because of you, Shizun? Just like Zhangmen-Shibo? Will you be nice and just come with me now?”
A spike in the murderous intent was all the warning Lou Binghe got before he was painfully thrown against a nearby tree. Before he could even recover properly, the calamity was up in his face, forcing him to roll out of the way. Just in time too, as a vicious dagger would have slashed his throat cleanly in two.
“My fault?! Oh that’s rich. He did it because of you! Just like my brother had to die because of you!” Shen Jiu laughed madly, barely caring to avoid a return blow from the demon. “Because you cannot tell a cursed sword from a normal one if it hit you in the face! Because you wouldn’t leave us alone!”
“I will never go with you, you must truly be beyond saving if you think so! Have others not paid enough for your grievances?!” The calamity continued to rave as they exchanged blows that shook the landscape.
The emperor only laughed bitterly in response. “Never! I just need you to behave and come with me! What does everyone else have that I cannot offer you?!”
“Oh, a lot of things, actually. You don’t want me as a husband as you proclaim, just as a pretty war trophy to show off and delude yourself with!” Shen Jiu snarled, murderous qi swirling around him until…
The shards of Xuan Su suddenly appeared besides the calamity out of thin air, swirling him like a menacing storm of blades. When Luo Binghe recognized just what the shards were, he startled hard enough that he lost his footing, unable to avoid one of the sharp projectiles flinging themselves at him. Even the calamity seemed startled by the sudden new weaponry, staring at the sword remains in wonder. Experimentally, he flexed a hand, watching as Xuan Su followed his wordless command. A wicked smile formed on his lips seeing the demonic emperor getting hit, truly an ugly grimace on his face. With no hesitation, he sprung back into the fight full force, the shards of Xuan Su flowing with him as though the two were one.
Meanwhile, Luo Binghe could only grit his teeth, snarling and shouting as he tried to regain any sort of advantage in the fight. Unfortunately, the new addition of Xuan Su had left him unbalanced, and even worse, without a weapon of his own, at a severe disadvantage. The calamity had been admittedly gaining on his skill level with every encounter, but now without the powerful Xin Mo and entirely unprepared, it was not looking good for him.
So, he did as he hadn’t in a long time - he had to flee. He rolled behind a tree as the shards of Xuan Su flung into the tree trunk, just enough time to fish out a talisman from his robes - a smoke talisman. With a flare of his qi, Luo Binghe lit it bright and strong, before running with all his might, no particular direction in mind but far away from the wretched, insane calamity of his own making.
As the smoke finally cleared and Luo Binghe’s figure disappeared into the horizon, so did Shen Jiu’s rage with him, leaving him only with a crushing sense of sorrow and a heart he didn’t know he still possessed in ashes. He finally turned back around to where he had left Mu Qingfang’s corpse lying on the floor, now surrounded by the ashes of the shards that were once the great Xin Mo.
He knew what they had spoken of. This had been the plan, and it had also been the plan that they would bring him back as a ghost. That he would not be gone for long. A promise to stay and not leave him behind. Yet, Shen Jiu still felt the pangs of betrayal and pain, the emptiness and sudden hollowness, searing into him just like the day he had lost Yue Qi.
So for once, sitting in the middle of nowhere at all, with no soul nearby, gently cradling the already cooling corpse of the healer, he decided to heed the late man’s advice for once in his life.
So he wept, mourned and screamed until his throat was hoarse. Until the tears stopped flowing, the night had long since turned to daylight. Even if it felt all so pointless.
For once in his long, miserable life as the thing known as Shen Jiu, he cried because his emotions demanded such.
After his, frankly, humiliating display, he retreated quietly into the thick of the forest, still carrying the healer’s lifeless body. He would turn him into ashes, and refine those ashes so they could never be dispersed easily, but that would come later. For now…. it was time to find shelter and recollect himself.
It didn’t take very long for a little ghost flame to start following Shen Jiu wherever he went. It was weak, but oh, it was a stubborn and strong-willed little thing. It hardly let the calamity out of its sight, so much so Shen Jiu had to lock it into a lantern and give it to Zhuzhi-Lang to watch over while he attended to more dangerous business. Such as the semi-regular beatdowns with Luo Binghe. (He refused to admit he was starting to enjoy those.)
The ghost flame wasn’t particularly conscious and couldn’t speak. Every time it tried, Shen Jiu gently nudged it with his fan, tutting.
“Save your energy, idiot. Keep your promise and come back to me quicker instead.” He would admonish it. He knew this was Mu Qingfang. The soul nourishment was going well, yet cultivating a ghost took time, even for a calamity such as himself.
He could only wait. Though, he can’t deny that on especially lonely nights, when the ghost flame floated closer in silent comfort, he missed the healer so terribly.
Once again, he and Luo Binghe had come to meet and exchange blows. At this point, Shen Jiu’s desire for revenge had rather diminished, the damages dealt to his rule and standing accumulating to a tipping point. Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang’s efforts had also been creeping up on the emperor, many regions already choosing to split off from his former total rule. Even the new Heavenly Emperor of the Heavens had turned his attention to the demon, stabilizing the fabric of the world and thus causing a renewed, growing separation between human and demon worlds.
Over time, the calamity had also studied his new spiritual weapon. The shards of Xuan Su seamlessly combined on command, leaving Shen Jiu with a full sword to counter the demonic emperor’s new spiritual sword of the week with. Unfortunately, the half-demon had been unable to find a spiritual sword willing to properly bond with him, which meant that they were more often than not easily obliterated by the ghastly weapon that now was Xuan Su. Though Shen Jiu had not intended to revitalize the sword, Xuan Su had fed off the resentful energies of both its former master’s death and Shen Jiu’s own resentment for Luo Binghe. It switched between a sword form and the shards with ease, never requiring the calamity to do anything beyond a thought. The spirit and him worked together in perfect harmony, much to Luo Binghe’s increased stress.
And yet, it did not stop him from coveting the former Qing Jing Peak Lord for himself. They exchanged blows as much as verbal jabs, proving a surprisingly effective way to start laying to rest all the wrongs committed to one another.
“You truly were my best and most outstanding student, Luo Binghe!” Shen Jiu laughed madly one time. “Truly! None have ever taken so well to my lessons as you have! You certainly outdid your master. Now I no longer have to be the monster, you are.”
Luo Binghe growled and shouted in anger, throwing himself into the fight with renewed vigor.
“Of course, Shizun was the best teacher in cruelty! Couldn’t have asked for better!”
Shen Jiu had laughed long and hard at his reply, enough so that he almost let himself be hit.
“Remember this, beast. You will never be happy, for monsters like us are not allowed such luxury. If you insist on going further down this path, no happiness awaits you.”
“Naturally, Shizun would know best, whyever else would he be avoiding his eternal punishment in hell by becoming a ghost?” This reply, however, had set the calamity off as he shouted and descended upon the best with a powerful spiritual blast.
This extended sparring session had ended in a draw, as it so often did, both combatants retreating to lick their wounds for another round later.
Just a few days later, they were back at it again. The emperor had been particularly whiny though, much to Shen Jiu’s annoyance.
“What was wrong with me?! Why didn’t you love me?! Why couldn’t you just be a nice Shizun, I would have given you everything!” Luo Binghe roared, stray tears streaming down his face. Whether of rage or sorrow, Shen Jiu could not tell. He barked a sharp laugh, unkind and mad.
“Have you not known the entire time? I was jealous. Envious. That’s it. Look at me, abominable beast. Do you truly think a creature such as I is capable of love? Whatever you saw in that world was not me. Know you will never find what you seek in me. You made sure of such the day you laid the shards of Xuan Su before me.” His laugh dimmed into a mocking sigh.
“Dozens of wives and yet unloved. They cared not for you just as you did not for them. If love is what you seek, maybe you ought to look at the demon who remains at your side, despite everything else slipping from your grasp.”
Luo Binghe furrowed his brows with a noise of surprise. “Mobei-Jun? …No it is surely nothing but loyalty, how could it-”
“Didn’t you spend years rubbing in my face how much better your highness is in everything than this lowly master? Use your eyes and mind, beast.” And that had been that day’s brawling, ending in another solid defeat for Luo Binghe.
Much to Shen Jiu’s delight, but a few weeks later, the emperor’s harem was officially entirely dissolved and Mobei-Jun was named consort and de-facto empress. Perhaps, the smug looks he would receive from the ghost were the reason Luo Binghe stopped seeking him out for brawls. Or maybe it had been the particularly humiliating decisive defeat at the hands of the Heavenly Emperor, chasing the demons back into one dimension once and for all.
Mu Qingfang’s first sight upon awakening fully to the world again was the ceiling of a soft bamboo house. He laid blinking but otherwise unmoving, gathering his bearings. His memories of his time as ghost flame came back to him just as he was suddenly greeted by an armful of all too familiar blue robes and black, silky hair.
“You took way too long, idiot.” was grumbled into his chest, as Mu Qingfang laughed and wrapped his arms around his beloved in return.
“Apologies to shixiong, however shall this one make it up to him?” He hummed, idly carding hands through Shen Jiu’s hair. And oh, oh how he had missed him.
The calamity shifted, now face to face with the healer, mere inches apart, his hands clinging to Mu Qingfang’s shoulders. “I think a winter wedding with just the two of us would do.”
The doctor smiled widely in response, chuckling.
“That can be arranged.” Shen Jiu’s own smile grew, though he wasted no more time to claim Mu Qingfang’s lips with his own.
‘This is what home must feel like.’ The new ghost idly thought before he was lost in the taste and feel of his beloved.
Notes:
Next up: Mo Qi and Shen Yuan
I gotta admit I didn't fully 100% write the extras yet, so updates may take a while. Apologies!
Chapter 8: Shen Yuan and Mo Qi
Summary:
Extra story one - the kids adopted by the calamities
Notes:
Apologies this took literal ages fjsjcndn.
I kept procrastinating this chapter, but here it is at last.This fills for the bingo prompt "married without knowing it"!
No warnings. Let me know what you think? <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Over the years, Mu Qingfang and his now husband (! He was still elated over that, even if it had been multiple decades since) settled into an abandoned hut by a forest, generally withdrawn from mortals. They had worked together to renovate it and refurnish it properly, even building a little garden in the back for various medicines and poison plants.
Their wedding had been a simple, quiet affair. They had the red robes, did their bows and exchanged a cup from one to another, none to stand witness to it but not needed, either. They were bound for eternity and thus happy, and that was all that mattered.
Naturally, his ever-paranoid husband A-Jiu had insisted he should rise to the level of a calamity still, just to be safe. Though Mu Qingfang was, frankly, okay as he had been, he eventually caved to the demand and the next opening of Mt. Tonglu, it had been his turn. A-Jiu had fretted and fussed all along the way, even though he knew himself just how capable in battle the healer was. He had single-handedly chased off the demonic emperor off their doorstep once, after all.
The demon realm was also now separated again from the mortal realm after the Heavenly Emperor Jun Wu had heeled Luo Binghe once and for all. A-Jiu had told him of the battle, truly it would have been satisfying to watch himself. Apparently, it had been less of a battle and more of a beat down, Jun Wu was far beyond Luo Binghe’s strength level - the new godling truly proving worthy of his martial god title and decisive rule of the Heavens. In fact, Luo Binghe had apparently given up to land a strike at all and opted for fleeing - unsuccessfully, as he had been all but tossed across an entire forest in the blink of an eye. It was a wonder that Mobei-Jun didn’t have to collect his husband in pieces, really. His surrender might have been his saving grace, though.
Once the new demonic pocket realm had been separated, Luo Binghe hardly dared to wander out and cause chaos - not unless he was keen on reliving his experience at the god’s hands. Even so, he occasionally relapsed to old behaviors, even if less so with Mobei-Jun to reel him back in. So truly, there weren’t any significant threats to the ghost duo’s existence, as long as they didn’t go out of their way to fight Jun Wu, that is. And neither had any business with him, anyway.
Despite all these factors, Mu Qingfang spent the next decade miserable inside the kiln as demanded by A-Jiu, his husband waiting outside for him. Thankfully, he had learned how to use communication arrays, so they could still keep in touch. Still, he had missed him terribly and he knew Shen Jiu felt the same. Once he was out, just as it had been for his husband, the people started calling him by a new moniker once he was out:
Silver Needles Saving Lives.
…How painfully on the nose, he really didn't know whether to laugh or cry. A-Jiu still occasionally teased him about it to his chagrin. Even so, he supposed he could see where the name had come from. After all, he did have a clinic space in his hut and often headed out to the nearby city to help patients. To his surprise, Shen Jiu had no complaints about that habit of his, if anything he had seemed rather amused. Often, he would come along, quietly standing by and helping him hand tools or mix medicine (it hadn’t been difficult at all to teach him - A-Jiu had asked about it).
Sometimes, his husband would instead head out on hunts to soothe his nerves, the only indication of which being the blood on his battlefan that was quickly wiped away before entering their home. And occasionally, Mu Qingfang would hunt with him. It was well needed exercise for him as well.
Of course, Shen Jiu still delighted in making Luo Binghe’s life a living hell if the opportunity presented itself. The demon emperor, however, rarely ever dared retaliate - he was long since overpowered between his husband and the healer. Mu Qingfang had made his position very clear on what would happen if the demon caused as much as a scratch on his husband, and he had reason to believe the brat had received the message.
They settled into a mundane, but comfortable routine, and even as the lands continued to change, they remained the same. The nearby town grew closer, though they were still comfortably away from it. Travelers would rarely pass through, but if they did and if they needed assistance, a strange healer with a brilliant smile and a wary, gaunt beauty dressed in azure would greet them, take care of their wounds, and send them back on their way. If they tried to find the hut again, though, they would find themselves unable to - how peculiar.
The only one who could find it again, though, was none other than Ning Yingying. She had long since guessed their respective identities, even when they were still running from the emperor. However, she had let them to their devices then, only springing on them one fateful evening, a year after they had settled into the current home.
There had been much yelling, talking and many, many tears. And over time, she became a regular visitor to their home. She was now a sect leader, but still lacked expertise - even so, she had done exceptionally well so far. Shen Jiu and Mu Qingfang offered their advice from a time long ago when they were peak lords, as much as they still could. After all, the memories were sometimes too distant for them, too. And neither had an interest to return to such exhausting leadership positions - no matter how much lower ranked ghosts tried to curry their favor. A-Jiu usually merely dispersed them, thankfully keeping more away.
Sometimes though, they did have other recurring visitors to their humble home. For one, two particularly clingy street children. They had found them at the edge of a town, badly beaten and malnourished, but still rolling in the dirt, fighting over who was the older one. So Mu Qingfang had insisted they should take them back to allow them to recover with them in peace. As it turned out, the boys had no family to speak of or turn to - so after a surprisingly short talk with A-Jiu, they had offered them to stay with them, permanently if they so chose.
And they did.
Which is how they came to adopt and raise the boys, Shen Yuan and Shang Hua were their names they had told them, together. After a rough start of adjustment for all four of them, the boys blossomed into intelligent, clever and enthusiastic men, a researcher and a writer respectfully as well as cultivators.
Unfortunately for both of their undead hearts, Shen Yuan became a researcher of beasts of all godforsaken things! Which is perhaps why A-Jiu had felt the need to especially put an emphasis on their sons’ combat training - which Mu Qingfang helped out with. Especially with Yuan’er’s obsession with demonic beasts, it was even more important for him to be able to defend himself out in the wild. Besides, as harsh as Yuan’er would complain that his A-die was, he would still ask for more lessons himself. Even Hua’er would ask, and he was a particularly scaredy cat. Thankfully, he stayed far from beasts - if he came close to them it was solely to help out his brother.
They had been such strange kids. They knew things they reasonably shouldn’t, such as the past history of these lands which was well a few centuries past - barely anyone remained who could have told them in such vivid detail. Yuan’er talked about a book with terrible writing, about a past family and strange machines. Hua’er would reply as if he had been to write the book, defending himself, but nonetheless reminiscing about stranger machines with him. The two fought and bickered a lot, but would cry if separated for too long, as well.
On one particularly entertaining occasion, the demonic emperor had decided to brute force his way to their sanctuary again, seeking to battle one of the calamities, or if he was lucky, both - ruling was boring work to him, and due to his beloved being with child, he couldn’t spar with him to get his restless energy out.
Finally, the hut came into sight only to be greeted by- a child?? Dumbfounded, he stood before the house, staring at the small boy staring up at him in awe. Behind him, another boy peeked out anxiously, his brother maybe?
“Lou Binghe?!”, came the entirely too enthusiastic yell of the sparkly-eyed brat, “is that really you?! Hua-xiong, is it?!”
The other child and the demonic emperor shared an uncertain look.
“Uhm, yes..?”, he replied awkwardly, as though he wasn’t still the emperor of the demon realm, but a cornered animal.
That had been the wrong answer. Unbiddenly, the child started gushing loudly and openly in great, disturbing detail about his achievements - constantly asking him questions about his adventures. How on earth did a child that young even know this much about him?! What were two brats doing by the calamities’ home, and why oh why couldn't he simply get his spar, ahhhhh???
Helplessly, he looked at the other boy, all but begging for help. That little shit only smiled and shrugged, but eventually took pity on him and pointed back towards the house - only to be met with the sight of a terribly amused black eye staring at him over a coal black, all too familiar battle fan waving lazily in front of a harsh face belonging to none other than his former shizun. With a sudden chill, he noticed the smaller figure luring in the shadows behind - the flash of needles bringing back unpleasant memories. He shuddered, suddenly feeling as though he should be on his best behavior.
“Yuan’er”, the azure calamity tutted, “where are your manners? Let us invite our guest inside.”
The boy, Yuan’er apparently, gasped. “A-die is right!” Then, he grabbed the demonic ruler by the hand and started tugging him towards the imminent danger.
‘Play along, would you? You’re gaping like a fish.’, came the far too amused qi message from Shen Qingqiu, who vanished inside with a painfully fake smile, followed closely by the other small boy asking to help with tea. With a pang of jealousy Lou Binghe noted that he received a headpat and a honeyed voice! His Shizun had never been like this to children, what on earth had happened?! And why couldn’t he have found his kind side when he was a disciple, hah?!
Distracted, he let himself be tugged along and into the small home he realized he had never entered before. Not that there ever had been a reason for him to - he usually only came here for a spar anyway. Which is what he was here for today too, if it hadn’t been for those children. Yuan’er was still talking his ear off - he had long lost track of the child’s words. Mu Qingfang walked behind him, the same fake smile plastered on his features like his husband.
He seemed to guide him gently to sit down at the table, but Lou Binghe felt the oppressive energy all but forcing him to comply properly. ‘Humor our Shen Yuan, or he’ll get shy. Surely you had enough practice with your many heirs at home?’, the doctor cooed faux-politely into his spiritual array. The demonic ruler grit his teeth and refused to reply out of pure pettiness. To the child, Shen Yuan he now knew, he smiled and tried to tune back into his babbling.
…As he answered his questions about various beasts he had fought, he noticed that this child knew more than he reasonably should. He couldn't have been told by his parents - even the doctor had never been privy to that much information about his old adventures and conquests, nor could he imagine them talking about him in any positive light, especially not to (apparently) their children. He threw searching looks at his sibling, Shang Hua he had learned, and then at the calamity parents; he received a grin, and twin shrugs in response. Great, just great. Of course the realms biggest weirdos would have the strangest child!
Apart from that though, Lou Binghe begrudgingly had to admit that the home was nice and comfortable, and Shizun’s tea was salted just for him. Or was that the other brat’s doing? Who knew. It was a pleasant afternoon, even if his mind was swirling and buffering as the child was still going on like he had met his biggest hero of a story.
A few shichen later, as the sun was setting outside and the mist rising, a portal suddenly appeared in the living room where everyone was sitting (no one was leaving him unsupervised with Shen Yuan, he couldn’t blame them). The calamities didn’t seem surprised, but the children jumped before eagerly looking to the portal just as Mobei-Jun stepped outside, their currently youngest son, Mo Qi, following eagerly behind.
“Baba, baba look! I told you I could make stable portals now!”, the small ice demon, about the calamities’ children's age, exclaimed, a bright toothy smile on his face.
“Mhn, you did well.”, the much taller ice demon patted him on the head, practically the highest praise for the child. Mobei-Jun nodded in greeting at Mu Qingfang and Shen Qingqiu, receiving nods in return. “I’ve been told to pick you up.”, he said simply to his husband.
Still somewhat shocked that his dearest could simply waltz in this home, was addressed as uncle by the kids and had been contacted by the wretched ghosts, Luo Binghe blurted out, “You know them?”
The ice demon blinked and tilted his head. “Yes. The doctor and Azure Shards are excellent company. Azure Shards makes good tea.”, he deadpanned as if that explained everything.
“Mobei-shushu!”, Shen Yuan and Shang Hua exclaimed, having rushed up to Mo Qi and Mobei-Jun. “Who are you?”, the Shen brat smiled up at Luo Binghe’s son, the demonic emperor completely forgotten in favor of a new playmate. Not that said demon minded, if anything he could breathe for the first time in a few shichen.
Mo Qi bowed clumsily, a slight flush covering his chubby cheeks. “T-this one is Mo Qi, pleased to meet you…?”
“Shen Yuan! And this is my idiot didi, Shang Hua!”,
“Hey! And you’re the didi, not me!”
“Children.”, Shen Qingqiu tutted in warning. It was likely not the first time the siblings had this argument, and likely not the last, either.
“Sorry, A-die.”, they chorused back, pouting for just a moment. After all, Shen Yuan for his part was quite enamored with Mo Qi, chatting back and forth enthusiastically directly after this, although it was clear the small ice demon was rather shy.
The doctor shook his head with a fond smile. He turned to Mobei-Jun, “If you and your son are agreeable, you may take him along next time you visit. Perhaps the children would enjoy the play time.”
Mobei-Jun considered it for a moment, but finally hummed in agreement. “That would be ideal.”
Luo Binghe momentarily wondered why he wasn’t even consulted! Was this truly wise? Well, hopefully the kids would just remain casual friends… With a heavy sigh he could no longer suppress, he finally got up and gave the ghosts a nod as he fled to his own beloved’s side. He picked up Mo Qi into his arms while he was at it, who gave a small embarrassed squeaky “Father!”.
“We have taken enough of your time. Thank you for hosting me.”, Luo Binghe begrudgingly gritted out between clenched teeth.
“Please, no problem. We will not hinder your majesty from his duties.”, the sarcasm gliding out naturally as the title was spoken by Shen Qingqiu. That little shit. He’d come back for that spar one day. Luo Binghe nodded and stepped through the portal.
‘Remember their names and faces. Should you ever harm them in the future or so much as touch them, you will find yourself wishing we had just killed you. Am I understood?’, his old Shizun’s voice reverberated through his skull menacingly.
Taking a deep breath, he replied, ‘Crystal clear.’
‘Good.’, and with that, the azure calamity vanished from his communication array just as the portal closed behind him.
Succinctly put, the children were odd, but it’s not like their adoptive parents were any less weird - if not more so.
Shen Yuan had a phase where he particularly hated A-Jiu - much to the latter’s heartbreak though he would never admit it. Whatever it had been, however, had sorted itself with his brother’s help - he had apologized in tears to his A-die. The calamities had their suspicions about what it had been about but it was hardly of use to bring up old, buried mistakes again. Nor would it be beneficial for A-Jiu to rehash, and he sincerely doubted A-Yuan would get any benefits out of it either.
So they slowly settled back into peace - although his beloved made an effort to better voice and show his love for the children. Mu Qingfang knew it was like pulling teeth for him, highly unpleasant and unusual, so he made sure to help him along - whether it would be with advice or encouragement. After all, A-Jiu was far more the type to show rather than tell, as his husband he would know. Unfortunately, the children did not always read his outburst as worry but rather anger at them. It was nothing the healer couldn’t fix though - and eventually, Shen Jiu managed to communicate well enough with the two gremlins in their home.
They adored the kids - and hoped very much their children felt the same.
Unfortunately, the years pass quickly when you have lived so much longer still - and soon enough their sons were lovely young men, choosing to wander the world on their own (well, after they had reminded them to call them or Ning-jie regularly, AND gave them emergency talisman and-). Shen Yuan and Shang Hua had laughed at their antics and went on their merry way.
As promised, they wrote them frequently, and even occasionally came to visit, taking with them numerous trinkets and gifts. Odd or rare plants for their garden, the newest medicinal research papers for Baba, some sweets and plant compendiums for A-die, trinkets and accessories for Ning-jie. They really always thought of everyone, the sweet boys they were, though their bickering remained. They would stay a day or two before leaving their parents back to their own devices. The two wouldn’t necessarily visit at the same time, even if most of the time they did. Eventually, Mu Qingfang and Shen Jiu grew used to the new silence in their home, and their old routines.
That was until Shen Yuan brought a… friend home. Oh, both of them insisted and acted like mere friends only - yet it was clear that at least from his friend there were deeper affections at play. It was honestly utterly painful to watch.
The friend in question wasn’t much of a problem, to be honest. A-Yuan had given them both a proper shock, dragging home none other than Mo Qi, one of the many children of Demon Ruler Luo Binghe and his husband, Mobei-Jun. The two had already met as children - Mobei-Jun would occasionally drop by for tea and bring the children of the same age as their boys to play. Mo Qi had been one of those children. So they had time to observe the young demon, though they were careful nonetheless.
A-Jiu had brought it up first, muttering about the uncanny resemblance and ‘it couldn’t possibly be’. Further examination though revealed that it could indeed be: Mo Qi was a reincarnation of none other than their late Zhangmen-shixiong, Yue Qingyuan. Thankfully, the Qi in his name was a proper character instead of a number this time, though neither would have been surprised with what they knew of his now parents. What an irony that he was born to his murderer as a son. Was this cosmic justice to Luo Binghe or Yue Qingyuan?
This did, however, settle one matter: the ghost king duo had all but adopted Mo Qi into their little family. As if they would let him be neglected! A-Yuan was particularly delighted over that, especially seeing the hesitant reception the tall half ice demon had received at first.
Time went by, and once again a semblance of peace found them. Well, as long as Mo Qi and A-Yuan weren’t visiting.
“Oh Qi-ge, that’s so cool! You never told me your portals could do that! And how you took down that Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python was so badass!”, Shen Yuan was gushing. As per usual.
“Ahhh, nonsense, you should have seen taizi gongzhou. Eldest sister crown princess taught me the tricks, she is such a fierce hunter”, Mo Qi would reply, a bright blue blush on his face. They go back and forth, a truly disgustingly sweet display. As per usual Mo Qi would praise his eldest sister, the official crown princess and the future emperor of the demon realm once Luo Binghe finally retires. She had grown into a strong and decisive young woman, a veritable force of nature but no less caring and empathic - despite her parentage. She would make an excellent ruler, and Mu Qingfang and Shen Jiu had always agreed with Mobei-Jun’s appeal to have her as the official heir. And for once in his life the little beast had been reasonable and followed the empress’ suggestion. Mo Qi was always very close to his sister - so it was normal for him to gush so much about her.
She wasn’t the only person high in his regards, though. He praised Yuan’er just as much if not more, a clear blush on his face every time he did so. Every whim and wish of the man would be followed without question - a kind of loyalty hard to come by even in a marriage of love. And yet Shen Yuan remained painfully oblivious to the clear courting attempts and open adoration of the romantic kind, insisting that clearly they’re only friends! Although he himself was as smitten as the other. Shang Hua, if he was present, would retch and groan in the background witnessing the two of them. As much as he poked and prodded his brother about being a cutsleeve, he vehemently denied it.
Mu Qingfang, Shen Jiu and Shang Hua had been debating when the two would finally get it - or one would grow the spine to ask the other out. Unfortunately with every passing visit it only got worse.
“A-Jiu, I am getting the needles.”
“...Give them more time.”
“Husband, the dearest of my heart, the smartest person I know, I love you, but I cannot watch this another decade.”
“...Fine, neither can I. Should we lock them into A-Yuan’s old room?”
“Yes. I have needles and wards ready.”
“Perfect.”
They steadily ignored the shouts of indignation from the room.
“Sort yourselves out or you are NOT getting out of there!!”, Shen Jiu snapped, the locked up occupants quietened immediately.
Much, much later, the two youths finally exited A-Yuan’s room. Mu Qingfang and Shen Jiu were settled around the living room table, sipping tea and tearing apart a new medical journal the healer had picked up in town not too long ago. They looked up to see the two, messy and flushed head to toe, trying to sneak out.
“Oh look, you got yourself sorted?”, A-Jiu broke out into a grin, “good. Want to get the wedding sorted?”
“A-Die!!!”, Shen Yuan shrieked, clutching his messy robes together more.
“Oh right I forgot”, unfortunately his husband wasn’t so easily deterred, “you two had already been married ever since you reenacted wedding proceedings as children. My bad.”
Shen Yuan tried to protest, but all that came out was an embarrassed squeak. Mo Qi didn’t look much better off. Eventually, he seemingly could no longer stand the humiliation. He picked up the smaller man, hugging him close as he forced a “We’llbeoffgoodbyeshushus”, before portaling away.
“Clean up after yourselves or I’m burning the bed and sheets”, Mu Qingfang called after them.
Youths these days, really!
Breaking the news to Luo Binghe had possibly been the best thing to happen to Shen Jiu ever since their own wedding, possibly. He was wearing a manic smirk all the time through, drinking up the demonic ruler’s outraged cries. Mobei-Jun, for his part, did not look surprised.
“Finally?”, he asked.
“What do you mean finally?!”, Luo Binghe shrieked, but was ignored.
“Yes, finally. Took our brats long enough to realize they were married, did it not?”, Mu Qingfang mused utterly bemused.
“Mn.”
“Why are you so relaxed about this!! Do you realize who our son is about to marry?!”
“This husband sees no issue. The kid is smart. The doctor is a fine father-in-law. His spouse is strong. Qi’er will be fine.”
Lou Binghe died a little bit more at every word from his own husband.
Needless to say, A-Jiu had rarely looked so radiant in his amusement.
Notes:
I do not promise to be faster with the next extra. You saw how long this took. Hopefully it won't be that long but I am making no promises