Chapter Text
There had been a lot of yelling, thinly veiled insults, and many more not-so-veiled insults thrown around during the monthly Peak Lord meeting the following day. All of which had led the fuzz that had stubbornly stuck in Yue Qingyuan's head to grow heavier.
Yue Qingyuan could usually handle loud noises, but the yelling and the anger in the voices of the very powerful people surrounding him made his mind scream Danger.
His mind was telling him to run and hide away. Because yelling meant to be weary, and angry yelling meant to be afraid of what was to come. It was all Yue Qingyuan could do to keep his usual placid smile up as his martial siblings argued.
Yue Qingyuan took a breath to calm himself, the fuzz still persistent in the back of his mind. It usually went away after he slept, so he didn't understand why it was still bothering him now of all times.
Yue Qingyuan couldn't even bring himself to speak up as Qi Qingqi began to once again spit vile rumors against Shen Qingqiu. He wished he could say something, to tell her to knock it off, but he knew that if he opened his mouth, none of his words would come out the way he meant them. That was if his words came out as intelligible at all.
Yue Qingyuan was grateful when Shang Qinghua finally managed to somehow get through his budget reports despite all the yelling. Yue Qingyuan left as quickly as he could, his hands tucked into his sleeves to hide their trembling.
He could feel eyes on his back as he left. He usually was the last to leave to make sure any of his shidimei had the chance to talk to him privately if they wished, but he didn't think he could even make a comprehensive sentence in this state. He had a sinking feeling that Mu Qingfang somehow knew about the fuzzy feeling in the back of his head with the way the man had been glancing at him all throughout the meeting. He knew it was irrational for him to think that, there was no way that Mu Qingfang could possibly know, but the doctor had always been scarily accurate with pinpointing what exactly was wrong with his martial siblings.
Yue Qingyuan tried to wipe the thought of someone who he was supposed to take care of somehow knowing about the fuzz in his mind that prevented him from working properly.
He quickly walked away from the meeting hall and to the Sect Leader's quarters and out to the private garden in the back, trying to smile and calmly wave away each disciple's call for his attention.
The garden was a respite from the clamoring of yelling that had been echoing around in his head ever since the arguments had started. For a moment he realizes that he didn't even process what exactly started his martial siblings arguing this time, which might come to bite him later. For now though, he settled on the moss circle in the middle of the garden, allowing the subtle breeze and light buzzing of insects wash away the tremble in his hands.
The garden belonged to whoever was the current Sect Leader, and it was considered an almost sacred space where the Sect Leader could meditate and contemplate whatever it was Sect Leaders contemplated. No one dared to enter without an explicit invitation unless it was an emergency. Meaning that no one besides the current Sect Leader maintained it.
Yue Qingyuan wasn't the best with gardening or maintaining the plants, but they seemed perfectly content to thrive by themself without much corralling. His version of the garden certainly didn't invoke the same sense of enchantment his Shizun's version did the few times he had seen it, but the garden let him have a quiet place to get away for a while before he was forced to return to his work.
Yue Qingyuan flexed his no longer trembling hands, taking another breath to steady himself. He let his gaze wander across the garden's blooms, the bright but soft colors making the fuzz settle more firmly in the back of his mind, though he could feel it growing despite it's supposed stillness.
It was almost frustrating how the fuzz had decided to settle ever since the previous night. It was just itching at the back of his mind, not blanketing it entirely like it usually would have. It left Yue Qingyuan feeling unsettled in the strange half-state the fuzz had shifted into. He was constantly aware of the strange feeling, unable to fall fully into the fuzz or completely pull himself out of it. As much as he didn't like loosing work time to the fuzz, he wished that he could let it consume his mind entirely just so he would stop feeling so unbalanced.
Yue Qingyuan's hands began to move through the soft moss that he had sat himself on in the middle of the garden, letting the texture brush against his fingertips in a soothing motion. His eyes wandering idly as a butterfly flit from bloom to bloom.
Yue Qingyuan didn't know how long he had sat there, fingers picking at the moss, before he came back to himself as the butterfly flew out of sight. He blinked, realizing he had lost time once again, and that the fuzz was still only in the back of his head and nowhere else, a small headache accompanying it. He sighed, stilling his hands before standing up from the patch of moss.
He slowly stretched out his limbs, making his way to his office. If the garden wasn't calming enough for the fuzz to blanket his mind like he was used to it doing, than he should at least be able to get some work done, even if it was completed much slower than he would have it done normally.
He was at least glad that he had had the foresight many years ago to never schedule any classes the same day as Peak Lord meetings, so he wouldn't need to interact with any of his disciples unless they specifically came looking for him. That way, he wouldn't make a fool of himself or worry his disciples just because he felt like he couldn't string together a full sentence.
Yes, at least there was that.