Chapter Text
Shen Yuan was totally going to tearfully tell Qi-ge about how Jiu-ge kicked him into a bush and a pit.
Since he didn't want the inexperienced Peak Lords ruining his opportunity to observe such a striking beast, (So cool! It probably wouldn't be hard to get a closer look…) Shen Yuan wet his lips and voiced the gentle lullaby of the Redbilled Songstress. He trusted Jiu-ge to get the message.
Sure enough, the three Peak Lords managed to ascend the outcropping without incident. (Surprisingly efficient, on the part of asinine qualities all three possessed. He fully expected competence and no issue from his brother, but he was not blind to his… stubborn propensity. Now, he knew that the other two weren't complete fools in all subjects, but they seemed to have a special allergy to doing anything that benefited anyone with the surname Shen.)
His brother looked… rough. Was that blood? His gait and movements were elegant and effortless as always but that meant absolutely nothing. He'll have to corner Jiu-ge later and check up on that. Jiu-ge might actually kill him if he brings it up in the presence of his beloathed martial siblings. Especially those two.
Shen Yuan will admit that he was disappointed when he first met Qi Qingqi and Liu Qingge in this life. He had overly high expectations from the Bai Zhan War God and the Xian Shu Peak Lord.
One the brother to the Liu Mingyan, and the other the shizun to Liu Mingyan. For their close relation to such an illustrious and highly regardable woman, they're certainly lacking in respectable qualities. Qi Qingqi exhibits an extreme lack of tact in actions taken regarding her sect mates. For a man praised as a master hunter, Liu Qingge has a tendency to trample.
While Shen Yuan is definitely one to speak, they also rush headlong into judgment.
They don't recognize nuance! All they can see is black and white, no gray!
Have they never seen an ink painting?
It bleeds. Black and tendrils of gray, coiled with five different shades of white on one page. It's the gray that adds depth.
Is it ironic to say that, the grey nuance is the black bleeding into the white? To say that it's the greed and malicious intent of others that creates those gray rogues?
Tainted and taught by the black malintent of others but not dedicated to that same purpose. Those who don't live fully for themselves; apathetic of all else, yet haven't sold their entire soul to an uncaring world. Both and neither.
What's worse is the surface level understanding that Qi Qingqi and Liu Qingge display. It's the same black and white but with a thin veneer of situational awareness. Perpetrators are still fully evil, practically incapable of love, or goodness, and victims are good, and unable to inflict cruelty.
Normally Shen Yuan would scoff at the willful ignorance of such privileged individuals, then move on with his life, but, they have cast one brother's role as deplorable and perpetrator, the other as paragonal virtue and victim. Both beliefs weighing and harming said brothers.
Perhaps that's one of the reasons why he prefers beasts. Kinship between those beings of instinct and himself is a thousand times more favoured, compared to the hypocrisy of the immortal society he finds himself continually recaptured in.
Shen Jiu's hands run through his hair.
Shen Yuan feels the invisible tension he had been carrying dissipate. Familiarly missed hands carefully untangle his hair, and the young man would be surprised if even one strand ended up broken.
There is a special type of loyalty for the people that treat every part of you, even the parts you don't care about, with unconditional gentleness.
Moreso for those that love you enough to set you straight, say the things that hurt, burning wounds made clean through honesty, he supposes. It's difficult to measure up to the loyalty, the consideration, and the sacrifice his brothers thoughtlessly offer him. He hopes it makes him a better man. He hopes he gives the same. He tries.
It was never a question, they're worth it.
In any life he lived, he's had siblings to walk it with. It would be unthinkable to be without that special companionship. So he does everything he can to repay, to be worth the price of brotherhood.
He sets aside his brush.
With the snappiness of a talisman he dries the vibrant page of his fieldbook. His brother ties his hair into a neat bun, better than any bun Shen Yuan could do himself.
The Spiritual Cave-Lynx continues to recline in the small valley.
Between the crest of the outcropping and the valley floor are numbers rock ledges, vertical and angled. Shen Yuan could get down there easily.
Jiu-ge made a 'what the hell are you doing now' face as Shen Yuan tucked all his brushes and pigments back into his qiankun pouches. Qi Qingqi made a face that said 'finally', which rude, Shen Yuan will be completing this entry as thoroughly as possible considering the time available. Don't insult this demonic cultivator's work ethic, Lord Qi. Shen Yuan will not be anything less than methodical, even in the face of impatience!
(Maybe he also enjoyed making them wait. So what? He’s a petty bitch raised by an even pettier bitch, I mean have you seen his brother?)
Tucking his qiankun pouch away, and raising himself into a crouch, Shen Yuan mimes the message of 'stay here' to the proper cultivators, and vaults over the crest of the outcropping, landing soundlessly behind one of the vertical rock formations.
Taking small breaths, he darts between one rock formation or ledge to the next, his descent resembling a zig-zagging pattern.
His lower viewpoint gives him a better angle, revealing a adequate rock formation to settle into. The final movements are painstakingly slow, to ensure the Spiritual Cave-Lynx doesn't catch sight of him.
If he wasn't in the field he'd be vibrating from excitement. The Spiritual Cave-Lynx was yards away. He had a clear sight line of it's powerful build, snout to diminutive tail. He could see it's forelegs. It was a she. The enlarged dewclaw looked wickedly sharp, and gleamed brighter than his future.
A female, Spiritual Cave-Lynx.
He was already scribling away, possessed of a madman. Up close it was clear that the lynx's pattern was different from what was documented. It could be environmental factors, the status of Spiritual Cave-Lynx, or that fact it was female.
If only he could stay longer! It wouldn't be difficult to adapt the array he made for classifying the differences between Horned Blood Lizards and Southern Yellow-Fanged Lizards. (The prefix of 'southern' actually had a pretty interesting etymological root, the word serving as a warning: A callback to the dangers and supposed barbarity of the southern biomes of the Demon realm. This warning was translated into the human tongues through the spotty trade of the races. Unsurprisingly, the warning was lost on humanity.)
The lynx was assuming the pose of a sphinx, ancient eyes watching over the cavern. It was looking away from Shen Yuan, giving him an unobstructed view of the tall ears and strong neck.
If only he could get blood samples! Having a Spiritual Cave-Lynx's blood as part of his Demonic vs. Spiritual Beast blood study would improve the integrity of his results! It's a thousand times more difficult to obtain fresh blood samples from reclusive, and generally avoidant Spiritual Beasts, compared to the Demonic Beasts that Shen Yuan worked with on a regular basis.
Just a blood sample.
Maybe a fur sample?
He did have his Heavenly Mandrogora of Torpor Darts…
…Jiu-ge would be upset.
…Jiu-ge was always upset.
He did need the blood samples.
And it would be interesting to see if there were any special properties to the fur… Or saliva…
He'd be fast.
So fast.
He dug into his qiankun pouch and withdrew a small dart. Rolling it between his fingers like a cheap blunt, eyeing the lynx, Shen Yuan focused on the femoral muscle of the hind-legs, winding back his arm.
Flying, the dart embedded itself into the meat of the lynx's thigh.
Caught by surprise, the regal beast let out a cry, attempting to spring to her feet.
She wobbled, and sat down heavily on her haunches. Her eyes, which have previously been roving about, glazed over and she lurched forward.
Holding out against the tranquilizing dart, she managed to keep her head lifted for a time. Within a few moments, her eyelids became heavy, and they dropped shut. Her large fluffy head hit her outstretched paws with a soft thunk.
Shen Yuan mentally counted to ten, then darted down into the valley. He kneeled at the side of the mighty creature, extracting a roll from his pouches. It unraveled into a kit filled with countless tools, syringes, vials, cloths, pouches, and gloves.
First, Shen Yuan donned a pair of sanitized leather gloves. Then he takes a small razor and shaves a small square out from the thick fur. He takes a vial, popping it open, and seizes a cloth, dousing it in the liquid from the vial. He wipes down the shaved square. Taking a new cloth, and an empty syringe, Shen Yuan wets the clean cloth and sanitizes the syringe.
Taking the empty syringe in one hand, he uses the other to pull the shaved square taut. Angling the needle, he inserts it into the vein.
The lynx is still sleeping.
He carefully draws the blood, taking care in its storage, and places it into a specialized stasis container.
Storing his used tools, he obtains another vial, filled with a firm balm, and applies it gently to the blood draw site.
Blood sample obtained!
Next he grabs a small set of shears, a small bag, and a medium-sized set of tweezers. He snips off a small amount of fur from the fluff of her neck and chin area, being careful to avoid the whiskers, for aesthetics sake. Fur in tweezers, fur dropped into bag, then into qiankun pouch. Tweezers set back on place.
…He should have enough time for a saliva sample.
Her deep breaths could be easily observed, the massive ribcage rising and falling.
Shen Yuan quickly shuffles over to the gargantuan head. Grasping an empty vial, a small fabric swatch and a new pair of tweezers between the fingers of one hand; with the other he softly titled the lynx's jaw to the side, unhinging the strong submaxilla, razor-edge white teeth come into view. The gums look healthy, as does the tongue.
Leaving the jaw open, he uses the tweezers to grip the fabric swatch, and inserts it into the lynx's maw, collecting the free running drool. He drops the dripping swatch into the empty vial and pops it closed.
Maybe he could get a sample of the naval cavity?
Shen Yuan tenderly shuts the jaw, the solid teeth giving a soft click. Hands still cupping the lynx's chin, he freezes. Large eyes met his own.
Cheng Luan poked at him through their shared connection. Liu Qingge ran his hand discreetly down the sword's hilt. He doesn't have time to commune with his spirit blade at the moment. He's preoccupied with keeping sight of Shen Qingqiu, who was far ahead.
It was like attempting to set eyes on a forest wraith. Green fabric, green leaves. The billowing skirts of the man's robes merged with the green void around them, subsuming his silhouette. Liu Qingge could hear the soft sighs of the tree boughs better than he could hear the footfalls or rustling of Qing Jing's gelid master.
The swordsman impassively observed as Qi Qingqi sprinted up to Shen Qingqiu's side. The man in question was obviously skirting the edge of ignoring her, eyes examining their surroundings, evaluating unknowable variables. Liu Qingge felt somewhat untethered. He hasn't been on any sort of assignment, research trip or nighthunt, and not been on point, since, well since he was a junior disciple, since before he pulled Cheng Luan from Wan Jian's sword caves.
What was the point of a body guard within the borders of Cang Qiong? Liu Qingge himself was the one who ensured the safety of Cang Qiong's lands from any violent threat. Liu Qingge wasn't unconfident or ashamed of his work. And Shen Qingqiu's brother didn't seem too violently inclined. In fact, it looked like Shen Qingqiu was the more aggressive of the two. Having a demonic cultivator roaming about the sect still raised his hair, and kept him abundantly vigilant.
But he did trust that Zhangmen-shixiong wouldn't knowingly put the sect in danger, even though he was wary of the integrity Shen Qingqiu's endorsement. Even if Shen Qingqiu's motivations were purely righteous, with the only intention being the salvation of the Zhou family, the familial connection muddied the waters.
It was such a pain to attempt to understand the different, sometimes self-serving angles that his martial family took.
Qi Qingqi and Shen Qingqiu exchanged words that Liu Qingge didn't pay any mind to, since it was clear to the Bai Zhan Peak Lord that it was merely them attempting to skewer the other with words. He did take notice as Shen Qingqiu's pace increased and the eidolom vanished up into the haze of forest. A bird called out, clear and piercing. Liu Qingge quickly gained ground on Qi Qingqi as they both pursued the uncommunicative man.
They hiked up the incline, finally spotting the green of Qing Jing amidst the frondescence. The sullied state of the previously impeccably groomed robes helped a bit with quick identification. He was surprised the spoiled and uptight man hadn't complained about the unsanitary conditions they found themselves in. He would expect such behaviour, however unbecoming from Shen Qingqiu.
Right as Liu Qingge was about to enquire, once again, if Shen Qingqiu actually knew where he was going, the man whirled around and with handsigns basically told Qi Qingqi, and by proxy Liu Qingge to shut up. As much as Liu Qingge wanted to simply demand answers instead of being continually subjected to subterfuge and half-truths, he held his tongue and merely followed his martial siblings up the steep outcropping.
Cresting the outcrop, they approached the largest rocky formation, and Liu Qingge idly admired the way it rose high above the sea of plants.
In honesty, Liu Qingge didn't actually notice they had found Shen Yuan at first— He only noticed the way Shen Qingqiu's shoulders lowered a fraction, and the way his breaths came slower. It wasn't difficult to find the source of that development, and a development it was: Because Liu Qingge had, up to this moment, only seen Shen Qingqiu tense up even more, he had never seen him relax. Except for when he used nonchalance purposefully as a power play.
Examining the development, the unknown variable: Shen Yuan, who looked like he had been kicked into a bush, and fallen down a pit.
His hair was disgracing Liu Qingge's own meager sensibilities, and no doubt shaming the man's coddled upbringing. Liu Qingge was proved right by the way Shen Qingqiu immediately moved the miscellaneous art supplies the demonic cultivator had strewn about him to the side, and started to gently pluck the bush that was nesting in the most definitely younger Shen's hair.
Liu Qingge was an older brother himself, he knew what a little sibling looked like.
What surprised him is how he saw himself in Shen Qingqiu's actions.
How many times when Mingyan was young, had he patiently sat behind her and plucked the grass fronds from her tiny head? How many times had he wound Mingyan's lengthening hair up into a bun, to keep it from trailing in the ink she used for her projects? Those gentle motions were as familiar to him as the drawing of his sword.
It was bizarre to realize that Shen Qingqiu was not only a disdainful man, but a brother. Like how Liu Qingge was a brother.
Shen Qingqiu held affection for the man; the demonic cultivator. And to Liu Qingge's eye, it looked fully reciprocated. He doesn't think that he's seen Shen Qingqiu receive any affection before. It strikes him as… sad. But Shen Qingqiu was not an enjoyable man to be around, so it was the natural result.
Well, from what he's seen, it looks like Shen Qingqiu does right by his brother. It's a respectable quality. Consideration for family is an honourable value.
Liu Qingge's ruminating is interrupted by the talisman Shen Yuan whips out of nowhere. Cheng Luan is already a third drawn from her sheath by the time the talisman is tucked into the open pages of the sketch…notebook that the stranger had been drawing in. A poisonous glare bores into him. His reaction was not missed by Shen Qingqiu.
Instead of meeting the protectively murderous aura head on, he watches dumbstruck as time seems to speed up right before his eyes. Ink that would've taken hours to dry, fully sinking into the page like snow melting in spring. He didn't know there were talismans that did that.
It was beautiful.
He comes back to himself as Shen Yuan rapidly stows away all of his drawing gear.
Qi Qingqi looks impatient, arms crossed and an expression urging expediency. Shen Qingqiu tries to nonverbally persuade an explanation for the younger Shen's actions, but in a slightly humourous parallel to Shen Qingqiu's earlier command of silence, Shen Yuan simply indicates that the three of them should stay put.
The unexpected and perplexing man then fluidly vaults over the rock formation and down into the extremely steep face of the outcropping.
Qi Qingqi's face twists into a peculiar mix of intrigue and despair. She really wasn't made for the monotony of research, not that he was either, but the lack of action, physical or intrapersonal, looks to truly weigh on his fellow Peak Lord. Her lifeblood was people, their intrarelations, machinations, weaknesses, psyches. Xian Shu dealt in the currency of people, of relationships.
Which is why she ended up here to begin with, and is the reason Liu Qingge's presence is here, instead of somewhere where he would be more productive. Not that he protested much, desiring to shadow the strange demonic cultivator and ensure nothing untoward was done. Such intentions paired closely enough with Xian Shu's Lord desiring to dissect Shen Qingqiu and his brother.
He doesn't make it a habit to regret his decisions, instead accepting them as they are. So he simply allows himself to feel relieved that this Shen Yuan doesn't look to hold any malicious intent for Cang Qiong cultivators or other innocents.
His eyes are drawn to the form of Shen Qingqiu, the man himself seeming more… tangible.
He’s rough, like this. Imperfect and tactual. Instead of being a removed observer, even his vitriol flung from afar, he was present. No perfectly arranged robes, perfect appearance, perfect bearing, calculated, and perfect words even in anger. Not clear to the bottom, but there was more clarity as Liu Qingge looked into the depths. This newfound clarity had been startling, to look into Shen Qinqiu and see his own reflection staring back.
Finally.
Ever since he laid eyes on the man, back when they barely counted as men themselves, there was something in those burning eyes that told him there was more. That there was more than a spoiled, standoffish scholar. Liu Qingge had wanted to see. He wanted that aloof and vicious mask to break. He could see it. Every meeting, could not help but feel the intensity, a wildfire burning through his awareness, eyes that wore frost but their depths seared.
Liu Qingge wanted the truth.
Each lie, was cold, cold, cold. He could see, felt it as the hairs on his skin rose, that heat. So he pushed, he chased, hoping his swift, real, true, actions, and intentions would do something, that his truth would become the wind to ignite the buried fire. Each glacial cut he received stung all the more.
In recent memory, Liu Qingge had given up. Shen Qingqiu remained a winter storm, and Liu Qingge had finally been snowed in.
There was something about the holiness of fire that had impacted him. Shen Qingqiu should be… different. Better. He couldn’t explain that lasting impression, which continually led to his disappointment with what he saw.
Childish notions could only survive siege for so long. The physical Shen Qingqiu, not the one that Liu Qingge saw in his mind, the one who was frozen into that expression of distaste and venom, had just about conquered his gut instinct. Then, Cang Qiong’s doors had been kicked open.
The revelation of Shen Yuan had been a surprise, a connection. Shen Qingqiu had always been removed, from everything. This reveal had dragged him back down, given the far flying bird a nest. It felt like Liu Qingge had been toiling as a sculptor, chipping away at cold marble, searching for warm hands.
As Shen Qingqiu had gazed at Shen Yuan, the frost that hid dim fire had evaporated. The secretive wildfire had been fed fuel.
And now.
Shen Qingqiu was warm.
His hair was ruffled, his robes were green and brown, grass stains and dirty hems, instead of porcelain there was real skin, scratched and alive. Instead of perfect posture, domineering and elegant, Shen Qingqiu was crouched behind the crest of the outcrop, eyes trained onto the distant form of Shen Yuan—
Who had a hand fully inside. A. Gigantic Cave-Lynx’s mouth.
He.
That’s.
Shen Qingqiu doesn't do that.
Shen Qingqiu never does that.
If there’s one thing Liu Qingge can depend on Shen Qingqiu do to, it’s to not put himself into danger.
But that isn't Shen Qingqiu, it's his brother.
What was he doing?!
He may have underestimated the younger Shen. It is now abundantly clear he is not dealing with another Shen Qingqiu.
This.
This is a surprising development. But, Shen Qingqiu doesn’t look overly concerned? But, this is the most concerned he’s ever seen the remote man. Liu Qingge creeps over to his side.
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t even spare him a glance. His eyes are fully trained on the valley floor, watching each breath as it leaves those large nostrils. Through the battered layers of robes, Liu Qingge can see tense lines of thin but solid muscle. Shen Qingqiu is taut like a bowstring, ready to cleave the air like an arrow.
Perhaps the reason this Shen Yuan acts so free, is simply because he has this guardian angel watching over him.
There is a persistent certainty, in the idle back of his mind, that if Liu Qingge himself faced Shen Qingqiu when his brother was concerned, that Liu Qingge would lose. It is doubtless now: that the inferno was only lit for Shen Yuan.
Later, Liu Qingge will regret ever seeing it burn.
In that moment though, all Liu Qingge sees is those deep and ancient eyes flick open, the blur of Shen Qingqiu throwing himself down the ridge, and the image of Shen Yuan gently cradling that large head in his hands.
Then, all he knows is movement. Cheng Luan sings as they careen down into the valley, the world a muddled rush of colour.
His feet slam into the ground.
“JIU-GE! NO! DON’T—”
Liu Qingge sprints, throwing his body into motion.
This, he knows how to do: One beast, one blade.
His eyes find Shen Yuan’s, but that gaze is locked on Cheng Luan’s unerring path, and Liu Qingge watches Shen Yuan’s eyes harden in decision.
His mouth forms words Liu Qingge doesn’t understand but they silence everything. The voice, wields an incomprehensible power. Cheng Luan flinches back. Liu Qingge is commanded to a standstill.
Shock pulls him fully under the thrall.
Shen Yuan holds the blade of Xiu Ya between two fingers, his other hand still cradling the Cave-Lynx’s jaw.
The creature, larger than any Cave-Lynx he had ever seen, brought itself to it’s full height. It towers over the three of them, even with Shen Qingqiu and himself standing. Liu Qingge would like to say he’s well acquainted with the wild residents of Cang Qiong, but he’s never caught sign of such an abnormally large Cave-Lynx.
Shen Yuan, who had risen into a crouching position, presumably to seize Xiu Ya, was regarding the Cave-Lynx with a neutral expression.
The free hand of Shen Yuan, which during the course of Liu Qingge’s flight and stall, had lightly wrapped around Shen Yuan’s throat, uncurled, and slowly drifted down to his side as Shen Yuan rose to his feet.
There was not a tremble, a shaky inhale, a timidity of the eyes to be seen. Slowly rising, the unarmed man turned his back to the two drawn blades, his fingers releasing Xiu Ya from their light hold. Cheng Luan trembled in the iron-grip of Liu Qingge.
Shen Yuan truly looks like Shen Qingqiu in that moment, the indistinguishable expression, face hardening like molten lava cooling into stone. It makes it abundantly clear, the previous differences of temperament between them, now that the light in their eyes was the same.
Liu Qingge feels the grip on him loosen, but his muscles told him attempting any sudden movement would be like wading through tar. He was rendered impotent. Cheng Luan’s abnormal skittishness cooled to a simmer, but Liu Qingge felt his own apprehension grow. What kind of demonic thrall was this? His qi uselessly surged through his limbs, looking for invaders that were not there. It felt like the air had locked around him. Yet breath came easily to his lungs.
The demonic cultivator bowed to the Cave-Lynx.
What was he doing?! Liu Qingge fruitlessly struggled, but his feet did not even shift. Animals could not be reasoned with, did not return courtesies. Bowing to an animal was a useless display of ‘respect’ to nature! You respect nature by never underestimating it. He was going to get himself mauled before Liu Qingge could intervene. He was going to get all of them mauled.
Maybe not all of them— Where was Qi Qingqi?
With a graceful incline of the head, the Cave-Lynx returned Shen Yuan’s courtesy.
The demonic cultivator opened his mouth, his demeanor unfaltering and regally proud. Shen Yuan’s pride was equivalent to the pride the Cave-Lynx itself carried: Different from the pride Liu Qingge or his family carried, this pride contained a ferocity and wildness, the grace of nature. It was dangerous.
Suddenly, those pointed ears flicked back, and reverberating through Liu Qingge’s sternum, a growl emanated from the Cave-Lynx’s mammoth jugular.
Shen Yuan twisted, facing Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu once more, leg coming up in a high kick, and within a fleeting moment one of Qi Qingqi’s hairpins, made lethal by infusion of qi, violently made a long thin furrow in the ground.
Shen Yuan had deflected it.
Liu Qingge was shaken to his core with certainty:
He was going to kill them.