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Yue Qi remembered when their group’s Shi had been skipped. Shen Shi had existed for days maybe less than that, before the slave trader’s sister had pulled him into her arms. He was a cute baby and too young to be useful unless they sold him off quickly. She’d named him Yuan.

Xiao-Jiu had always been sharp around the edges. Getting him to soften was difficult, but rewarding. All of their group had been hesitant with the new way of things—some even remembered happy families. Yue Qi was never sure how to properly pay Xiao-Jiu back for how he covered his weak points when they were sent out begging. The slavers had taken on too many children at once and offloading them was difficult. 

Occasionally, the sister would come by, a quiet baby in her arms. Yue Qi would catch Xiao-Jiu looking at him, but if he pointed it out, the other boy would quickly deny it. 

“Forget it,” Xiao-Jiu would say. “No point in getting attached. He won’t last anyway.” 

It was a funny sort of contrariness that was very Xiao-Jiu that only when Yuan-di actually was in danger of not lasting, that he clung to him. 

Shen Yuan had been a healthy baby, but from lack of care or fate, that had not lasted too long. Yue Qi never found out what (if anything) happened with the slave trader’s sister, but one day a small toddling Yuan-di was dropped off with the group, his face flush with a fever. He was far too young to be of any use, weak and sickly—a liability more than anything else. At first Yue Qi was certain that Xiao-Jiu was going to ignore him.

Shen Yuan took a few toddling steps and then sat down on the floor. His lip wobbled and his eyes teared up as he started to cry. The sound of it was grating and none of the children knew what to do. Yue Qi had only lifted one foot by the time Xiao-Jiu had already stomped over and roughly grabbed Shen Yuan up into his arms. 

“Why are you wasting your tears now?” Xiao-Jiu said, harshly frowning. “Save them for when we’re on the street, Yuan-di.”

Yuan-di blinked at him, fisting the fragile fabric of Xiao-Jiu’s shirt and then settled. 

“We’ll make even more with his pathetic face,” Xiao-Jiu said, gruffly to Yue Qi later. 

“Xiao-Jiu has good ideas.” Yue Qi said, fighting a smile as Xiao-Jiu scoffed, trying to sound so much older than he was. Yuan-di had already fallen asleep on his shoulder. 

“Someone has to have them,” Xiao-Jiu said, roughly. Then he leaned against Yue Qi’s shoulder himself, contrary again. 

***

Yue Qingyuan walked to the Qing Jing Peak library. He had already delivered his shizun’s missive to the Qing Jing Peak Lord and now had time to wander a little and see if he could catch a glimpse of Xiao-Jiu. The last few times had… not gone well. 

Yue Qingyuan never knew what to do with his hands when he was in front of him. He did not know how to make his tongue stop feeling like lead. It was impossible to know which words would or would not set Xiao-Jiu off and… he deserved it. 

Still… he found it difficult not to at least wander a bit. It would be hard to admonish him for taking a walk on such a fine day. And as impressive as the Qiong Ding Peak library stood, the Qing Jing Peak was far better. It would make perfect sense he would want to take the opportunity to visit while he was here.

Xiao-Jiu was not inside. There were several other Qing Jing disciples, exploring the shelves, but as Yue Qingyuan soon discovered, none of them were Xiao-Jiu. 

Yuan-di was there. Yue Qingyuan caught a glimpse of him before he himself came into view and paused. Shen Yuan was kinder than his brother, but there was a politeness to it that came with unfamiliarity. It was understandable. Yuan-di had been so young when… when Yue Qi had left them and never come back. 

There was a separate, only slightly less painful feeling, when Shen Yuan clearly did not remember him as when Xiao-Jiu clearly wished he didn’t. 

“Yue-shixiong!” Shen Yuan said, brightly and then waved an apology as an older disciple shushed him. He was slightly sheepish as he moved towards Yue Qingyuan, a book too large for him to easily hold, bolstered in his arms. “Jiu-ge went into town,” Shen Yuan said, quietly. “I don’t think he’ll be back until tomorrow.” 

The disappointment was a hollow thing. The cut of it was blanched. He at least had a tomorrow to try again. That was better than it had been. Yue Qingyuan would continue to tell himself that.

“What is Yuan-shidi reading?” Yue Qingyuan asked, swallowing down his disappointment. 

Shen Yuan shifted the book in his arms. “Botanical Plantarum. It’s about propagation of different plant types near the borderlands.”  He gave Yue Qingyuan a shy smile. “This shidi is trying to get Shizun to get more fiction, but we mostly have poetry.” 

“What kind of fiction?” Yue Qingyuan asked. Maybe Xiao-Jiu would be less defensive if Yue Qingyuan talked to An Ding Peak about ordering more, rather than purchasing it directly for Yuan-di.

“Adventure?” Shen Yuan said, unsure. “Anything would be good. I like the bestiaries and reference books, but um…” He shifted on his feet. 

Yue Qingyuan found himself smiling in a way that did not feel as if he’d intentionally set himself to do so. It was not a familiar feeling anymore. “Xiao-Jiu and I would come up with stories for you when you couldn’t sleep. They were not very good, but you didn’t understand them yet.”

Yue Qingyuan’s smile slipped into something less authentic when he noticed the discomfort Shen Yuan had at that anecdote. He was not as skilled as his older brother at keeping his feelings (other than disgust) hidden. 

“It’s all right that you don’t remember,” Yue Qingyuan assured him. It was. There was no fault in it.

As there was no fault in Xiao-Jiu hating him. It was only how things had worked out. Reasonable consequences.

“Do you read any fiction?” Shen Yuan asked, too politely. He was trying so hard. Xiao-Jiu had done a wonderful job keeping him kind. 

Yue Qingyuan shook his head. “Not often, but I will see if we can source some. I am certain Yuan-shidi is not the only disciple who has interest.”

Shen Yuan’s smile was a little more earnest. Yue Qingyuan held that close while he made his way back to Qiong Ding Peak, alone.

***

There were too many missives to write after the Immortal Alliance Conference. Too many families to notify. Yue Qingyuan had spent several nights without sleep, ensuring that the Sect Leader specifically sent a letter out, for whatever pittance of comfort it might give.  The weeks after passed quickly, but eventually it slowed to a crawl. They had already been lighter on disciples than any of the previous generations would have liked.

Families were already not inclined to send their children to a cultivation sect with the constant war between Huan Hua Palace and the Demon Realm. After the Immortal Alliance Conference even less so.

“Shizun?” Chang Yun called from the doorway. Yue Qingyuan had not officially named her as head disciple. She had been invaluable in taking over the previous head disciple’s duties since the conference. The letter to Zou Tao’s parents had been inadequate, but Yue Qingyuan did not have the time (nor heart) to visit his family and explain how much potential had been wiped out. 

Chang Yun waited for acknowledgement and then stepped in, bowing. “Shizun, you have a visitor. Peak Lord Shen—should this one prepare tea?”

Yue Qingyuan stood up too quickly. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Ah, yes. Please Disciple Yun.” 

She smiled and then nodded before departing. Yue Qingyuan drew his hands over the most impertinent folds in his robes and went to his receiving area. Xia—Shen Qingqiu was already there, a fan covering his face and a sharp expression that was unreadable. 

“Qingqiu-shidi,” Yue Qingyuan said, inclining his head. 

“This master would prefer to wait until we have tea and privacy to speak.”

Yue Qingyuan likely should have felt a sense of dread. The small spark of happiness he felt instead was inappropriate. He attempted to snuff it out as he sat across from Shen Qingqiu and awaited the tea. The smell of it was disappointing, but could not be helped. Zou Tao knew Shen Qingqiu’s favorites. Chang Yun only knew Yue Qingyuan’s. She was excellent at brewing them so hopefully it would not cause offense.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Yue Qingyuan asked, once the door was shut. He allowed himself hope that Shen Qingqiu would not agree to tea of his own accord if he were merely there to request access to the Lingxi Caves.

Shen Qingqiu turned the teacup in his hand, watching the liquid. He took a small sniff and then a sip of it before placing it back down again. He frowned and let out a loud exhale through his nose. “This is pointless.”

“Xi—” Yue Qingyuan swallowed the impulse. He would not ruin this. “Qingqiu, if this one can help, please only ask.”

There was a drawn out silence again. The stretch of it pulled on the air between them. Finally, with a defeated huff, Shen Qingqiu said, “Yuan will not get out of bed. It’s been weeks. He’ll eat if forced and grade papers, but if I am not hovering around him, he goes back to sleep.”

“Did you speak with Mu-shidi?” Yue Qingyuan asked, softly. “There have been more than a few disciples who took the conference harder than others. He has some herbal remedies available.” 

Yue Qingyuan had a satchel in his bedroom, untouched. He’d lived with worse.

“He said to give it time,” Shen Qingqiu said, with a sneer. “I know my brother. This is… this is abnormal.” 

Yue Qingyuan stared at him. He tried to weigh his words and not spit them out impulsively, but Xiao-Jiu had always been correct about him. Sometimes he could not think first. “He’s heartbroken.” 

Shen Qingqiu scoffed, but his distaste was not an immediate rejection. 

“Has he been reading?” Yue Qingyuan asked. 

Shen Qingqiu shook his head. “No. The most he’s done is take those sword fragments to Wan Jian Peak to be reforged.” 

“I’m sorry,” Yue Qingyuan said, without thinking. 

Shen Qingqiu’s snort was humorless. “Of course you are. Do not worry yourself, I didn’t think you’d have a solution. I…” He picked up his tea again and took a small sip, dissatisfied. “Head Disciple Zou had better taste.” 

"Chang Yun will learn,” Yue Qingyuan said. Shen Qingqiu looked at him, assessing. He was not sure what was made of him. 

“You look like shit.”

Yue Qingyuan laughed. It felt so unfamiliar and took him by surprise. “Ah, yes, that is likely.”

Shen Qingqiu shook his head. “Yuan can’t stop sleeping and you don’t look like you’ve slept in days.” 

“He has you,” Yue Qingyuan said. “He’ll recover.” 

It seemed that for once, finally, Yue Qingyuan had said the right thing. The sharp edges on Xiao-Jiu’s face softened for a brief moment. 

“He’ll learn, mm?” 

“We all do,” Yue Qingyuan said. It was… entirely a lie. It merely did not apply to himself.

***

Yue Qingyuan stared at the parchment in front of him in silence. It had been several minutes. He had read through it easily. The writing had not changed. 

“I can’t approve this,” Yue Qingyuan said, finally.

Shen Yuan did not look surprised. He did look exhausted. The black bruises under his eyes had only increased over the last year. “Can’t or won’t?”

Yue Qingyuan frowned. “Cang Qiong does not have the numbers to loan senior disciples to Huan Hua Palace.” 

“I’ve been barely functional enough to count as a disciple since the conference,” Shen Yuan said. “And we both know that's not why you don’t want to approve it, Zhangmen-shibo.” 

“Why?” Yue Qingyuan asked, rather than argue the point. It was true. He had… they were not fixed, they likely never would be, but they were civil. He had talked to Xiao-Jiu conversationally on more than one occasion in the last month. 

“Everything reminds me,” Shen Yuan said, quietly. His voice was thick and he had his fists gripped tightly. “I feel like I can’t breathe, Qi-ge. I tried. I want to not feel like this, but everywhere I step on this mountain is a place I went with him and I can’t—”

“Give it time, Yuan,” Yue Qingyuan said. “It… won’t heal perfectly, but it gets lighter. Easier to live with.”

“I won’t survive the wait,” Shen Yuan said, even more quietly. He raised his gaze to meet Yue Qingyuan’s. “I’m going either way. I have to. I… I want the option to come back.” 

The urge to put his head in his hands was strong, but Yue Qingyuan was still the sect leader. He settled for closing his eyes momentarily. Both Shen brothers were obstinate to a degree it might have been made a new cultivation study. He knew already he would not win this.

“He’ll hate me,” Yue Qingyuan said, finally. Again. He added as he opened his eyes.

“He’ll hate me,” Shen Yuan said, scoffing. He stared down at his hands, missing Yue Qingyuan’s expression which was probably for the best. 

“Why Huan Hua Palace?” Yuan Qingyuan asked, once he’d smoothed his face into a familiar pleasantness.

“They’re busy and have need and I wouldn’t need to practice Ascetic Cultivation,” Shen Yuan said. His answer was too well thought out to be completely honest. 

Knowing the answer likely wouldn’t have made Shen Yuan change his mind anyway. Yue Qingyuan sighed and signed the paper. He folded it closed, melted a drop of wax with qi, and then stamped it with his seal.

“Thank you, Qi-ge,” Shen Yuan said, taking the paper. He held it like it was his benediction, a release from his sins. It was the opposite for Yue Qingyuan. It was another crime stacked onto many. “Jiu-ge’ll… it’ll work out.”

Yue Qingyuan smiled. Politely. And said nothing.

*****

Shen Qingqiu could not practice inedia while tied with immortal binding cables, however starvation was a familiar friend so he found this attempt at mistreatment laughable. It was also boring. 

His first day (as well as he could perceive the time passing) in the Huan Hua Palace’s famed water prison had been a rather dull mishmash of vague threats from the Old Palace Master and a baffling confrontation of with a not-dead Luo Binghe. The next day his foolish, impetuous brother had visited and must have done something as the trough of water Shen Qingqiu was given was refilled. 

After that it was silence. It was cold and uncomfortable and remaining too near the edge of the platform allowed the burn of the acid waters to prick against his skin. Other than that, it was peaceful enough to meditate. No disciples vying for his attention, no useless Sect Leaders and Peak Lords to put up with. Had he not been bound with the cables, it would have been an appropriate time to cultivate. 

The rushing water flow of the singular exit was loud enough to block the sounds of most ambient noise outside of his cell. It was not loud enough to cover for the shouting and marching of footsteps that passed by him. They were too far to be clearly understood given his cultivation was currently stymied, but the cadence of them suggested trouble. 

Shen Qingqiu’s brother better have been outside the Sect, no matter his frustrating insistence that he would be visiting again soon. The inability to parse the energies surrounding him soon became frustrating as the activity outside his cell grew closer and then passed again. 

Shen Qingqiu had no way to know what was beyond the rushing acidic waters in front of him. He did his best not to theorize. 

The silence stretched for long enough that he had to force himself not to sleep lest he miss another disturbance. He needn’t have worried, as the disturbance that came next, hours later would have been impossible to sleep through.

The ceiling shook, as if a behemoth had stomped on it. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. The powerless feeling of being trapped was not unfamiliar, neither was Yuan being outside of his protection. There was still nothing he could do about it. 

Shen Qingqiu could not determine how much time had passed, but he was certain it was at least the ‘tomorrow’ when Shen Yuan had promised to visit. 

Clearly the entire farce of that pitiful sower demon and Qiu Haitang’s sudden arrival were intersected in some plan to bring Shen Qingqiu down. His only real concern was if anyone with half a brain cell was assisting with this scheme, they’d know exactly how to harm him. 

When the acidic flow in front of his cell finally stopped, Shen Qingqiu inadvertently held his breath, smoothing his expression to at least appear not to be in the grips of that small everlasting terror of not knowing if his brother was safe. 

It was not Shen Yuan who returned. 

There were many remarks Shen Qingqiu could have shot at Yue Qingyuan, but a moment’s observation made it clear that the continuing disturbances outside of the cell took precedence.

“Shidi,” Yue Qingyuan said, in some relief. “This one has come to escort you out.”

“And then you’ll help my father!” said a slightly shrill voice behind him. 

Yue Qingyuan made a very dismissive sound of agreement and then snapped the cords around Shen Qingqiu’s wrists. The immediate flood of qi in his system was a welcome relief.

Behind him, the Little Palace Mistress wrung her hands together in clear distress. The Old Palace Master needed help and they must have used that leverage to release Shen Qingqiu. It was surprisingly competent as a strategy.

“Are you well?” Yue Qingyuan asked, too closely and too familiar. Shen Qingqiu shook him off and strode out on his own recognizance. He eyed the Little Palace Mistress with disdain and shuttered his visible relief as his foot hit unarrayed ground. 

The space beyond him was in tatters. There were broken pieces of stone and more than one body flung across the floor like a rabid beast had torn through them. 

“Where’s Yuan?” Shen Qingqiu said, turning sharply.

Yue Qingyuan winced. 

Shen Qingqiu anger flared out so abruptly that shoving him into the acid waters surrounding them felt like the most logical step forward.

The only thing that stalled him was the Little Palace Mistresses’ hand on his arm. “He was headed to the central array! That’s where that demon was trying to get in and kill my father!” 

“I need my sword,” Shen Qingqiu said, sharply. His vision felt as if it were going black at the thought of Shen Yuan heading towards a demon that was powerful enough to traverse inside the outer arrays of Huan Hua Palace. 

“Of course,” Yue Qingyuan said, his false calm a weeping sore on the wound of his presence. “The Little Palace Mistress would be happy to assist.”

The Little Palace Mistress did not look happy. Her cheeks puffed up like a child beginning to start a tantrum, but she nodded anyway and directed them forward. It did not take long for them to locate the armory where his spiritual weapon was being held under a tight network of security arrays. They were undone with a small amount of spiritual energy beckoned by the Little Palace Mistress. 

The reassurance of holding Xiu Ya was a temporary reprieve.  

Far too quickly, Shen Qingqiu felt himself shunted backwards. The flick of long dark sleeves floated in front of him and the sight of a fully unsheathed Xuan Su was blinding enough to cause him to pause.

Shen Qingqiu had never seen Yue Qingyuan pull his sword before. Something about the energy of it drew a chill up his spine that matched the feeling of standing too close to the acidic waters in his cell. 

“Tianlang-jun,” Yue Qingyuan said, evenly to the looming presence of the Heavenly Demon Lord that emerged from the hall in front of them. 

“Where is my wife?” Tianlang-jun said, demonic energy cascading off him in overwhelming waves. 

“How did he get through the maze array?” the Little Palace Mistress hissed to herself from where she hid behind Shen Qingqiu.

“A masterful little piece of spiderweb that took me far too long to unweave,” Tianlang-jun said, eyes shifting immediately to practically look through Shen Qingqiu to her. Yue Qingyuan stepped in front of him.

Shen Qingqiu ignored anything he felt about that since it was not entirely anger. He grasped the arm of the Little Palace Mistress and drew her forward enough to be visible but not enough to feel precariously thrust into the demon’s grip. She made a reasonably decent effort not to cower in the face of that much demonic energy. 

It was too precarious a situation to properly balance. The obviously righteous thing to do would be to fight a powerful and angry foe and prevent him from his goals. 

Shen Qingqiu did not care if Huan Hua Palace fell around him. “Was this the demon attacking the array?” he asked the Little Palace Mistress.

She shook her head.

“My wife,” Tianlang-jun said, each word a tremor of demonic qi powerful enough to press them back a step.

“Stop attacking and I’ll let her out!” the Little Palace Mistress said. Her face was scrunched up and there were tears streaming down it. She looked half her age, lost in a sea of danger she was unprepared to face. It reminded him of a younger Qiu Haitang. “I never wanted her here anyway!” 

The amusement did not reach the demon’s eyes as he let out a low sort of chuckle. “Do you truly think I could not untangle the arrays myself?”

“Maybe!” the Little Palace Mistress said, lifting her chin. “But maybe not in time for the ceiling to cave in from all those demons unleashed! And if you try to break her array the entire platform will sink.”

Even false amusement left the demon’s face. He flicked his eyes towards Yue Qingyuan and narrowed them and then landed on Shen Qingqiu. “Has Cang Qiong Mountain Sect come to meet their doom as well? How interesting.” 

“She speaks true,” Shen Qingqiu said, ignoring the barb. He did not need to be baited by a demon. “And offers a simple enough bargain to understand.” 

“I suppose it is,” Tianlang-jun said, tilting his head. “A better bargain is that you will show me to my wife now and she may temper my desire to cull the entire mortal realm of your kind.” 

The urge to throw the Little Palace Mistress at him and be done with it was strong, but he did not trust her or Yue Qingyuan to manage the temper of this beast with any sort of finesse. And of all the threats Shen Yuan could be facing upstairs, this was the worst of them. If all else failed, he doubted even a Heavenly Demon could survive being kicked directly into the acidic waters — or at least be weakened enough to defeat. 

“Very well then,” he said, ignoring Yue Qingyuan’s immediate objection. 

He waited until Tianlang-jun stood aside and then escorted the Little Palace Mistress past him before releasing her to show them the way forward. The way back as it turned out. Yue Qingyuan stood behind him, his sword still unsheathed and his breathing heavy. The familiarity of Yue Qingyuan behind him, a protective barrier as they walked, was a weight he did not feel comfortable carrying.

The Little Palace Mistress led them in a slightly different direction than the one that would return Shen Qingqiu to his own cell. There were several bodies littering the ground in the path before them. The air stank of blood and acid as they stepped past them. 

There was a crunch behind him as the demon lord clearly stepped on one of them then gave a petulant kick and he could hear the sounds of what presumably was flesh melting in acid. Shen Qingqiu was wise enough not to look back and confirm. 

Finally they approached their destination. The Little Palace Mistress spun her fingers in a certain pattern, biting her lip in concentration. Before either Shen Qingqiu or Yue Qingyuan could move, Tianlang-jun had a clawed grip on the back of her throat.

“Do it properly, little one,” he said. “I have no patience for tricks.”

The Little Palace Mistress made a small piteous noise and slightly adjusted her finger movements. Yue Qingyuan was regarding Tianlang-jun’s back with a careful measuring gaze. An idiot of impulse even now.

Shen Qingqiu, grabbed his arm and dug his fingers into it as a warning. It spoke of how dangerous a threat Yue Qingyuan considered Tianlang-jun that he did not flick his eyes in Shen Qingqiu’s direction but merely twitched his nose and shifted his jaw slightly. 

The waters had barely receded before the demon lord was moving forward, ripping the already slightly ajar cell door off its hinges with a single hand and tossing it into the acidic flow of water near them. They had to move away to avoid being splashed by it. 

“Xiyan!” the demon cried and every inch of his impressively terrifying demeanor disappeared into a pathetic whine as he dropped to his knees, wrapped himself around a very tired looking woman. He buried his head in her waist, sobbing.

She patted his head and sighed as he cried incomprehensibly against her waist. 

It would have been an appropriate time to make their exit, yet the Little Palace Mistress hesitated. It was not clear why until Su Xiyan made a gesture and then a boy that Shen Qingqiu identified as the Huan Hua Palace’s Head Disciple carefully edged around her and made his way across the bridge.

“Shimei,” he said, sounding slightly cowed. 

She sniffed once, then twice, and then turned her head from him. 

Shen Qingqiu still had hand gripping Yue Qingyuan’s arm and used it to indicate they should use the... distress of Tianlang-jun to make their leave.

Of course that was when Su Xiyan said, “Where’s Binghe?” 

In short order, Shen Qingqiu’s mind placed the familiarity of Tianlang-jun and Su Xiyan into an inescapable truth that had him dropping his hand from Yue Qingyuan’s arm and turning immediately towards the exit—he ignored the sound of steps behind him and their conversations. 

The central attack by a demon was of course not the most dangerous threat to Shen Yuan. No, that threat was Luo Binghe. 

Shen Qingqiu never  should have ignored his instinct to stamp the beast out immediately. He should have knocked the demon into the acid when he was distracted. Of course, of course, Yuan would find the most dangerous creature imaginable and burrow his way into its lair in an attempt to tame it. 

He ignored the calls of “Xiao-Jiu—” and “Master Shen!” as he hurried towards the exits. He almost tripped directly into the map array before an unfamiliar hand attempted and failed to grasp him. 

“Apologies, Master Shen,” said the Huan Hua Palace Head Disciple. “The maze arrays cannot be deactivated so easily.”

Shen Qingqiu almost skewered him, but the boy was already striding forward and indicating direction. The hurry to his pace was the only thing keeping Shen Qingqiu from violence.

The outside of the Water Prison was chaos. “Which way to the central array?” Shen Qingqiu asked, sharply.

Infuriatingly before the boy could answer, Shen Qingqiu was accosted by his fellow Peak Lords. 

“It’s fine!” Shang Qinghua said, fruitlessly stepping back from Shen Qingqiu’s pointed glare. “Ah, I mean, Yuan-shizhi is fine! The err—plan worked and there’s no more bad energies from that direction which probably means we should, um, not go that way.”

“What?” Shen Qingqiu snapped, ensuring his manner was as threatening as possible as he stepped towards the rat. He probably knew about Luo Binghe’s demonic heritage — wasn’t he the one who helped the beast join An Ding?

“We will be going that way,” said a voice from behind him. Only years of ingrained survival skills caused him to flick back his gaze and identify that the rest of them had followed him. 

Shang Qinghua made a very unpleasant responding squeak that did nothing to alleviate the resemblance to a rodent. 

Su Xiyan gave Shen Qingqiu a quick glance and then gestured forward, taking striding but slightly shaky steps. “This way, Master Shen.”

“Oh!” Tianlang-jun said, sounding eerily delighted, as he trailed along behind her by a hand. “You’re Shen Yuan’s elder brother! I should have noted the resemblance but I was a bit distracted. We’ll have to discuss the wedding plans once we’ve settled this.”

There was a foreign feeling of buzzing, like the faint crackling of the acidic waters that seemed to pause Shen Qingqiu’s brain functions. 

“Tianlang,” Su Xiyan said warningly, tugging on his hand. 

“Xiyan, you said not to threaten them! That wasn’t a threat!” 

“Cull your eccentricities until after we confirm our boys are safe,” she said, which earned a disgruntled grumble from the current leader of the demon realm that she was tugging alongside her like a small child. 

Our boys.

Shen Qingqiu was not going to have a qi deviation, because he was convinced he was in the middle of one. 

He saw smatterings of familiar fabric and Shen Yuan’s swords and pushed past all of them, all confusion swallowed by the overwhelming fear gripping him. “Yuan!”

The view was given witness to was one he would wish he could directly soak his brain in acid to remove. Shen Yuan was barely covered in an outer robe, his clothing ripped to shreds, with the utterly obvious signs of fornication all over him. The only thing restraining Shen Qingqiu’s fury was that his brother looked embarrassed rather than anything else. 

“Looks like it worked!” Shang Qinghua said, chirping like a pleased bird.

Shen Yuan covered his bright red face with his hands and attempted to hide behind the leg of the obvious partner in his state, half-demon beast Luo Binghe. 

“Yuan?” Shen Qingqiu asked, hearing the strain in his voice. “Are you… all right?” 

“I’m fine,” Shen Yuan said through his fingers. “I’m going to die but I’m fine.” 

“You said you weren’t hurt?” The beast that had recently defiled his brother said, crouching down to look at him with concern. “A-Yuan?”

Shen Yuan dropped his hands to cover the beasts mouth with them. His face was somehow redder than it had been. He did not look directly at them. “Is the whole razing of Huan Hua Palace over?”

“Yes,” Su Xiyan said, and Shen Qingqiu vaguely noted that there did seem to be less evidence of the disrepair and combat that had ensconced the sect. “Why don’t we give them some privacy now that we know they’re uninjured.”

Shen Qingqiu did not approve of that plan. He wanted to grab Shen Yuan and have him properly assessed and away from the influence of —

“Yes, please!” Shen Yuan said, in a desperate tone that was familiar. His brother’s thin face must have completely dissolved because of this. Only that normalcy allowed Shen Qingqiu to step aside. At least for the moment.

He busied himself by collecting Shen Yuan’s swords and finding their sheaths. It took significant effort to ignore the shredded pieces of what were clearly Shen Yuan’s robes, but he did so and waited until his brother returned. 

Yue Qingyuan attempted to gain his attention, but for once was intelligent enough to give up quickly. 

***

Shen Yuan’s face was a very deep shade of pink when he inelegantly flopped himself into a chair next to Shen Qingqiu out of seeming protest. “Mu Qingfang said I’m fine,” Shen Yuan said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like I already said.”

Shen Qingqiu did not resist the urge to poke him in the ribs with his fan. “Specifics.”

Shen Yuan swatted the fan away. “The specifics are that I’m fine.”

Shen Qingqiu poked him harder with his fan. “I can find out myself.”

His little brother sighed deeply, betraying any and all maturity he claimed to have that allowed him his privacy. “I had some minor abrasions on my back, there’s no damage to my system from the poison, and I had to listen to a lecture on demonic sexually transmitted diseases which I refuse to repeat and is not relevant.” 

Shen Qingqiu grasped his brother’s arm tightly. “What poison?”

“Oh,” Shen Yuan said, a hesitant smile already wavering. “Um. I might have been knocked out by a snake demon and kidnapped by Tianlang-jun for my own safety?”

Shen Yuan quickly grabbed Shen Qingqiu’s arm holding his own as if he was worried Shen Qingqiu would immediately go into action. “You can’t attack the demon lord, he’s in the middle of ground breaking peace talks right now!” 

Obviously, killing the demon lord would take a considerable amount of planning. He clenched his teeth and exhaled through his nostrils. 

“Break off your courtship immediately,” Shen Qingqiu said.

“No.” Shen Yuan infuriatingly seemed to relax at that. His lips twitched. “It would unfair of me to judge Binghe based on how irritating I might find some of his family.” 

Shen Qingqiu glared at him, understanding the implication implicitly. “That is hardly a fair comparison.” The short torturous time he’d spent near Tianlang-jun proved so. “You do not seem very concerned about Luo Binghe’s heritage.”

He applauded himself on the self-control it took to not refer to the bestial creature who had entrapped his brother as that. 

Shen Yuan shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me. I’ve met humans much worse than demons.” His eyes flicked past Shen Qingqiu and all ease dropped from his posture. “Speaking of…”

Shen Qingqiu made no adjustment to his own posture as he noted Qiu Haitang approaching. There was very little she could do physically he would not be able to respond to from his current position and he refused to give her the satisfaction of any visible discomfort based on emotion. 

“What do you want now?” Shen Yuan asked, brusquely. 

Qiu Haitang's hands were tight at her sides. She put on a thin brave front, but was clearly quailing at her own feelings. “I do not care how you have managed to wriggle your way out of justice for what you’ve done, you bastard. I will find another way to avenge my family.”  

“I’ve got connections now,” Shen Yuan said, in a tone he probably assumed was threatening. “If you wanted those ten thousand demon poisonous arrows.”

“Nothing I said was false,” Qiu Haitang snapped. Old instincts caused Shen Qingqiu to move his hand still on Shen Yuan’s arm to his brother’s shoulder to keep him seated. He wanted to throw him behind himself for protection, but Qiu Haitang was not her brother threatening Yuan-di when he truly wanted to hurt Shen Jiu.

She was brittle, ready to break. “Shen Jiu was the person I was supposed to trust most and you murdered my Gege,” Qiu Haitang said, a veritable wave of emotion ready to fracture her delicate edges. 

Yue Qingyuan gently stepped behind her, close enough to be bordering on inappropriate. His expression was placid. “It would be inadvisable to threaten an esteemed master of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect in a room full of fellow cultivators, Hallmaster Qiu.” 

Qiu Haitang’s shoulders stiffened and she looked up at him. There was a deep welling hatred behind her eyes and despite everything, Shen Qingqiu was not pleased to see it. She had been so much happier as a stupid, spoiled girl—ignorant of the world around her.

“It is not a threat to demand the truth,” Qiu Haitang said. “It is not a threat to demand that there be some recompense for that truth. Does Cang Qiong Mountain Sect care so little of lives lost that it would harbor this thing rather than make him face his crimes?”

“Cang Qiong Mountain Sect remains united in defense of our martial brethren,” Yue Qingyuan said. He was still placidly pleasant but his hand was resting on Xuan Su. It seemed likely the idiot might make a scene and make this worse.

“Mis—Miss Qiu,” Shen Yuan stumbled over his clear impulse to call her what he had as a child. Mistress Haitang. Anything else would’ve been met with violent consequences if overheard by Qiu Jianluo. 

Shen Yuan’s voice was kinder than Shen Jiu was expecting it to be. “Do you really want the truth or do you want to keep your good memories of your brother?”

Qiu Haitang opened her mouth, but said nothing. She blinked a few times and then bristled like a cornered cat. 

Shen Qingqiu wondered on some level if she had finally thought about it long enough to at least glimpse some of the truth—he doubted it. She never had any suspicions in the Qiu Estate and her hurt and anger were too localized into what she wanted the past to be to think critically of it.

“It seems a fair offer, Hallmaster Qiu,” Yue Qingyuan added. Shen Qingqiu wished he’d stick his nose elsewhere. He was only liable to escalate everything again.

Tears of frustration prickled Qiu Haitang’s eyes and she looked at each of them, her gaze steady on Shen Qingqiu the longest. Then she turned around and stomped off. 

Simultaneously Shen Yuan sighed and Yue Qingyuan reached out towards them. Shen Qingqiu deftly snapped his fan open, causing him to abort the action. 

“This master assumes that negotiations have concluded, Zhangmen-shixiong?” 

Yue Qingyuan twitched, slightly and then nodded, his gaze drawn to the floor for a moment before that false placid smile reappeared on his face. It was more pathetic than vaguely threatening now. “There will be finer details to smooth out, of course, but Qingqiu-shidi should not worry about any more false accusations.”

No. Only the true ones.

He fanned himself and glared in the direction he noticed that Shen Yuan’s attention had distractedly wandered to. The beast, Luo Binghe was with his parents. Tianlang-jun was speaking of something that caused both son and mother to look up at the ceiling. 

“Jiu-ge, let me get up,” Shen Yuan said, trying to dislodge the hand on his shoulder. 

Shen Qingqiu very much wanted to keep him glued to the chair, but he settled for grinding his teeth. “Stay visible.”

Shen Yuan made some dismissive promise and jumped up the moment he was no longer restrained. He strode with purpose to clear and present danger like it was a lighthouse when he’d been adrift for ages. 

Foolish fucking naive—

“Xiao-Jiu, you’re going to break your fan,” Yue Qingyuan said, quietly.

Shen Qingqiu glared at him and snapped it closed. “Do not call me that.” He breathed out through his nose and glanced to ensure Shen Yuan was still in his line of sight before continuing in a low hiss. “You have no objections to this farce?”

Yue Qingyuan’s face was satisfyingly blank in an unpracticed sort of way. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in a few days. “I have many objections, however giving ourselves time to create a defense is the only current option against a force that powerful.” 

“Strategic,” Shen Qingqiu scoffed, “how unlike you.”

The miserable man smiled at that — a small sincere twitch of his lips. Shen Qingqiu was almost overcome with the urge to kick him in the shin. 

“If I did what I desired to do, I would not be fairly representing our interests.” Yue Qingyuan’s eyes flicked briefly in that direction — in Shen Yuan’s specifically. Shen Qingqiu had suspicions about the ‘our’ being narrower than the entire sect. He did not want to think about how he felt about that.

Shen Qingqiu decided to continue his strategic silence that he’d begun with Qiu Haitang. It also seemed to bother Yue Qingyuan, so it was a welcome routine. He watched Shen Yuan interact with Luo Binghe and his parents. Even with Shen Yuan’s obvious discomfort, it was the happiest he’d seen him in years.

That thought tasted bitter.

He rose from his chair and enjoyed the defeated sigh Yue Qingyuan gave as he didn’t even deign to dismiss himself while he strode towards his brother.

“Ah,” Tianlang-jun said, smiling widely. “Master Shen! Such a delight you could join us. We were speaking of proposals.”

“Father,” Luo Binghe hissed. 

Shen Qingqiu nodded to the demon lord and his wife who was now wearing the pendant of the Huan Hua Palace Sect Leader. “Conversation will have to wait. My brother requires a meal and sleep not induced by poison.”

“Jiu-ge,” Shen Yuan said, but it was more of an uncomfortable whine than anything threatening. 

“We missed breakfast with all the excitement,” Tianlang-jun said, nodding as if that explained everything. 

“What poison?” Luo Binghe asked, swiveling his head between Shen Yuan and Tianlang-jun.

Shen Yuan cleared his throat and shifted on his feet, but the full blooded demon seemed to have no concerns.

“Bing-er,” Tianlang-jun tutted, “Don’t give me that look. I merely had your cousin collect Shen Yuan for your benefit. I thought you might be upset if he died when we destroyed Huan Hua—then again you decided to take initiative in the matter—”

The beast’s eyes flared and he turned sharply, fists clenched as he strode away.

“You may want to go check on Zhuzhi-lang, dear,” Su Xiyan said, patting Tianlang-jun’s arm.

Tianlang-jun sighed. “It was an incapacitating agent, not even technically poison.” 

“You don’t have to treat incapacitating agents with anti-venom,” Shen Yuan muttered, looking after the direction Luo Binghe had gone. Shen Qingqiu would incapacitate him if he even tried going after the beast.

There were startled cries from several areas outside the hall and a loud shuffling noise that indicated some sort of conflict. If Luo Binghe was going to save Shen Qingqiu the effort of murdering his cousin, that was convenient.

Tianlang-jun heaved a weary sigh and turned in the direction his son had gone.

Su Xiyan nodded to Shen Qingqiu and then Shen Yuan with an enigmatic smile before following at a slower pace.

Shen Qingqiu examined his brother’s face and identified immediately the emotions on it. He grabbed his collar to drag him off before guilt and sympathy could spur him into yet another stupid course of action.

***

Nine months had passed since the immeasurable clusterfuck of Jin Lan City and Huan Hua Palace. Shen Qingqiu had fallen back into routine, the comfort of which allowed him to continue to ignore the reading looks on his martial brethren’s faces. He had no interest in whatever convoluted rumor sphere had blossomed since Qiu Haitang had loudly proclaimed things better kept in the past. 

The first few months were easy enough to spurn any attempts at posturing concern and beyond that, life on Qing Jing Peak returned to a sense of normalcy. Unfortunately that also included Peak Lord meetings, which were as useless as ever, even with the added component of addressing the inevitable break of the alliance between the demonic and cultivation worlds.

Ning Yingying was engaged with a new group of disciples that required the kind of cosseted attention that might lead Shen Qingqiu to violence, so he made due with Ming Fan as his assistant for the current meeting. Ming Fan tended to take more detailed notes, though he wasn’t certain he preferred them.

Either way it felt strange to have someone other than Shen Yuan attending to the vacant Head Disciple position.

Shen Yuan had returned to his dewy-eyed wandering with his beast yesterday and Shen Qingqiu’s last conversation with him was still a persistent itch. He still wasn’t certain if he was more angry or proud with the way Shen Yuan had talked him through that conversation with deft manipulations.

Shen Qingqiu tapped his fan against the table in annoyance and then snapped it open and gestured to Ming Fan. “Go tell the Qiong Ding Peak Head Disciple that this master will be available this evening to go over the finer points of the proposed trade agreement with Zhangmen-shixiong.” 

“Yes, Shizun,” Ming Fan said, immediately and bowed. He went straight to Chang Yun and Shen Qingqiu watched as he did not deliver the message verbatim as Shen Qingqiu would have preferred.

Shen Yuan would not have delivered the message verbatim either, but he would have done it intentionally. He also would’ve ignored protocol and instruction and gone straight to Yue Qingyuan.

Shen Qingqiu rose from his seat and set off back to his own peak, allowing Ming Fan to figure out he needed to follow. He gave the invitation as he’d promised his brother he would—he wasn’t going to watch however Yue Qingyuan reacted to it.

The rest of the day was concerned with peak matters and he hardly even thought about the sect leader’s arrival. He lost focus on his paperwork while he waited and retreated to his guqin instead. It wasn’t often he had time to practice for his own sake rather than giving a demonstration to helpless disciples. 

Shen Qingqiu’s mouth twisted as he internally heard his brother’s scolding objection to his accurate view of the capacity of his students. 

Eventually evening fell and Yue Qingyuan arrived. Ming Fan handled the necessary pleasantries and protocol, including brewing tea that would likely sit undrunk in the middle of the table while Shen Qingqiu attempted to humor this farce.

He barely registered the droning voice speaking to him, too cheerful, about the smell of the tea and every small little detail he could notice from the first time in years he’d entered Shen Qingqiu’s living space. 

“Qingqiu-shidi?” Yue Qingyuan asked, attempting to get his attention.

Shen Qingqiu had absolutely not been paying any attention to the man’s ramblings so he didn’t pretend at it. He merely raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue.

Yue Qingyuan lifted his lips in an imitation of a smile. “Yuan-shizhi has been a more frequent visitor than I expected.”

Shen Qingqiu curled his lip, a fraction a way from a sneer. “He is no longer temporarily loaned out, but still far enough away that I am certain Zhangmen-shixiong stamped his approval to travel.” 

“Jiu-ge,” Shen Yuan said, with a disappointed look on his face. “I emotionally manipulated Qi-ge into letting me leave. You can’t hold that against him.”

“The Sect Leader should not be so easy to manipulate,” Shen Qingqiu snapped.

Shen Yuan snorted. “Okay, sure. Let’s see if you feel that way next time you want something and do it to him.”

Shen Qingqiu ignored the bullied expression on Yue Qingyuan’s face and swallowed his irritation. He only had to offer the thinnest branch to appease Shen Yuan and then the next time his brother bothered to show up, he could rub it in his face that he was wrong.

“Yuan-di,” Shen Qingqiu said through gritted teeth, “expressed that you wish to speak to me and asked that I give you the opportunity to do so.” 

The absurd amount of panic that flooded Yue Qingyuan’s face was almost amusing. If it weren’t so expected. 

Shen Qingqiu counted to ten and then placed his hands on the table so he could lift himself up. He had no thirst at the moment for tea, as expected. “Then I suppose that will be —”

“Please,” Yue Qingyuan said, quietly, staring down at the table. “I…”

“Granting you the opportunity to speak does mean you’ll actually have to do so,” Shen Qingqiu snapped.

Yue Qingyuan merely nodded, like a cowed child. 

Disgust and other emotions curdled in Shen Qinqiu’s gut. He tapped his fingers against his leg and was about to forcefully kick Yue Qingyuan out of his private space, when the man finally deigned to speak.

“I do not have an excuse,” Yue Qingyuan said, “and my apologies only seem to aggravate you, but I can… speak on why I was unable to—why I failed you both. As you always say, ‘sorry’ is nothing but an empty word, completely useless. I also never explained myself.”

Shen Qingqiu swallowed around the fist sized lump choking him. He forced his voice to be even. “And?”

He promised Shen Yuan he would listen and he… he had tried, but there had only ever been useless ‘sorrys’ and silence. 

Yue Qingyuan took a deep, steadying breath. “At age fifteen, I entered Qiong Ding Peak, my heart preoccupied and desperate for success. Xuan Su…I was warned the sword was too powerful for my current cultivation state, but I pressed on and then.” A frown marred his usual pleasant face and he looked all the better for it. “I failed. I failed in my venture to become one with the sword and instead fell into a state… contrary to my goals.”

Yue Qingyuan lifted his head finally, to look up at Shen Qingqiu. “Which left me with untold lifelong regrets.”

“What does Xuan Su have to do with it?” Shen Qingqiu asked, meeting his stare head-on. Let the coward deliver more platitude and regrets. 

“I’m sorry,” Yue Qingyuan said, despite his promises to the contrary. Typical. “I’m truly… sorry. Even though I wanted to return as soon as possible, even though I wanted to come get you immediately… I made a mess of things instead.”

Yue Qingyuan chuckled, humorless and wet as he drew his view back to the table and untouched tea again. “You were right. In the end, I’m an impulsive person… After that, Shizun destroyed all the tendons, bones, and meridians in my body, then shut me inside the Ling Xi Caves for more than a year.”

Shen Qingqiu did not interrupt, merely clenched his shaking hands at his sides and stared holes into Yue Qingyuan’s skull as he continued. 

“My entirety was broken down, to be rebuilt anew.” Yue Qingyuan’s face twisted into something unrecognizable on the Sect Lord. "I screamed, I yelled, but it was no use. For an entire year, inside that pitch-black cave, no matter how crazed I became, how hysterical, no one listened closely to what I said, no one let me out…” 

Yue Qingyuan clenched his own fists, hard enough to turn his entire hand white. “I pushed myself as hard as I could, but by the time I returned Qiu Manor had already been destroyed for some time… I really… didn’t mean not to return. Only, it is really true that the world is pitiless, and so the two of us passed each other by…”

Shen Qingqiu felt his teeth almost crack as his jaw clenched. His feet landed roughly against the floor as he made his way out of his house to breathe untainted air. 

Qi-ge hadn’t come. He hadn’t. He gave up on them… on Shen Jiu and continued on with his life in the Sect. That was why they only crossed paths again by chance. 

What the fuck did the Qiong Ding Peak Lord do? And why would—

Shen Qingqiu strode back into his house, a sad, pathetic Yue Qingyuan still on the floor looked up at him.

“What does that have to do with your sword?” Shen Qingqiu asked again, his voice viciously uneven. 

Yue Qingyuan sighed and didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Xuan Su is incredibly powerful but I never draw it against enemies unless absolutely necessary. You must have attempted to guess why. Xuan Su is my life.” A wrinkle appeared on his peerless immortal brow as he frowned up at Shen Qingqiu. “I’m not asking for forgiveness or sympathy, I—”

“What does that mean?” Shen Qingqiu snapped, shocking the Sect Leader silent. 

Yue Qingyuan grimaced slightly, as if this detail was a small embarrassment and not a powerful sword glare thrown against the foundation of everything Shen Qingqiu understood. “Every time I draw Xuan Su, it consumes my life force.”

Shen Qingqiu left again. He didn’t realize his feet had moved until they were stomping against the dirt and not the bamboo flooring. 

He breathed in deeply, trying to remember all the asinine advice Mu Qingfang had given him after his last qi deviation. Then he stormed back into the house and glared at Yue Qingyuan.

“You fucking impulsive idiot!” 

Yue Qingyuan merely blinked at him. “I—” He nodded and then stared down at the table. “I know. I’m—I won’t apologize again for my failures.”

Shen Qingqiu left his house again, because he needed to stab Xiu Ya into something and unfortunately Yue Qingyuan’s Shizun had already gone through the overdue process of dying without his assistance. He only resisted when he noted there were still disciples around. Shen Qingqiu did not release his grip on his sword hilt but did walk very determinedly back into his house.

He threw his sword, sheathe and all directly at Yue Qingyuan.

An experienced cultivator, the fucking imbecile could’ve blocked it but of course he didn’t. Cowed. Like he—

“You used that sword when they were trying to detain me. Are you out of your fucking mind?” 

Yue Qingyuan looked up again, in confusion. “I… what?”

Shen Qingqiu regretted he didn’t have his sword in hand to throw again. He barely resisted upending the table. “I can’t believe you—”

Shen Qingqiu exited his house again, only to briefly regain his composure this time before returning. Yue Qingyuan was still looking up, still confused, but now was turned to face and expect him.

“Why didn’t you tell me this? You let me think—” There was a painful grip in Shen Qingqiu’s chest and a disgusting sting to his eyes. “You let me think I wasn’t worth coming back for.” That he was worthless. “You let me think that you didn’t even try.” 

Yue Qingyuan’s face crumbled. “Xiao-Jiu, I never meant—”

Shen Qingqiu slapped him. Then he hit him, a stupid meaningless blunt punch that was ineffectual and impotent. He felt like a starved street child again and wished his nails were longer so he could claw Yue Qi’s eyes out. “How dare you! How fucking dare you sit on this guilt like it was some egg of penance and not just tell me!” 

Yue Qingyuan finally did turn enough to grasp Shen Qingqiu’s wrists. Not hard enough to restrain, weak like everything else about him.

“I failed you,” Yue Qingyuan said, the feeling in his voice sharp enough to sting. “Telling you why didn’t feel like it fixed anything. Nothing could fix this.” 

“Fuck you,” Shen Qingqiu snapped at him. He threw himself at Yue Qingyuan, elbows, knees, and hands pinning him to the floor and slamming his fists into his chest and digging his knees anywhere he could reach. He wasn’t sure how he wound up finally with his forehead pressed against Yue Qingyuan’s chest, soaking his stupid robes with angry tears, his fists still thudding weakly against Qi-ge’s torso.

“I’m sorry,” Qi-ge said, choked. His hands were featherlight on Shen Jiu’s back. “I’m useless I should have—”

Shen Qingqiu’s tears stopped as his nervous system steeped with anger. He lifted up and slapped his hand over Yue Qingyuan’s mouth. “If you ever pull that fucking sword again, I will eviscerate you and salt your corpse.” 

Yue Qingyuan’s eyes were wide and his pupils were so blown that his eyes looked completely black. He tentatively pulled at Shen Qingqiu’s wrist to remove his hand from his mouth and once Shen Qingqiu made the mistake of letting him, said more idiocy. “There may be a threat that requires—”

Shen Qingqiu dug his thumbs meanly into the curve of Yue Qingyuan’s throat, choking that sentence off. “No.” 

Yue Qingyuan coughed, but wisely did not argue. He breathed, heavily and kept staring up at Shen Qingqiu, while Shen Qingqiu attempted to steady his own breaths. He was still leaning over Yue Qingyuan, pressed into the floor, his knees bracketing Yue Qingyuan’s chest and his torso bent awkwardly so that his fists could clutch at Yue Qingyuan’s shoulders. 

His breaths were still coming out harried, his anger still causing his fingers to dig into the meat of Yue Qingyuan’s flesh painfully. He was still—

“Xiao-Jiu?” Qi-ge said, so tentatively.

“I hate you,” Shen Jiu said, and then kissed him as hard as a punch. 

The satisfaction of the right action almost balanced out the thrumming rage and unbalance in his system. For once, Yue Qingyuan’s balking shock didn’t last, and his tentative grip turned furtive and desperate to keep Shen Qingqiu where he was. 

It was messy and inelegant and their robes were still on by the time Shen Qingqiu had finished despoiling the Sect Leader. 

His anger was a simmer now, not quite bubbling up past the other heat settling into his bones. “You almost made me qi deviate,” Shen Qingqiu said, resting his head on Yue Qingyuan’s chest. They’d knocked the table over at one point, he noted absently. 

“I’m sorry,” Yue Qingyuan said, not sounding very. Then he hesitated, “truly?”

Shen Qingqiu scoffed and bit him. Yue Qingyuan made a pleased noise at that retaliation. 

***

“I have been thinking,” Yue Qingyuan said, one morning a few months past Shen Yuan discovering his underdressed presence in Shen Qingqiu’s kitchen. 

“It is healthy to attempt something new on occasion,” Shen Qingqiu said, sipping at his morning tea. 

Yue Qingyuan’s lips twitched into a smile that made his entire face look stupid. “There’s a clutch of bamboo on Qing Jing that is not being used for much and would make excellent material for another house.” 

Shen Qingqiu raised an eyebrow, unsure where he was going with this. “By that regard there are significant clutches of bamboo as the entire peak is covered in it.”

“Mn,” Yue Qingyuan gave him, still unbothered by any insult. 

Masochist. Shen Qingqiu thought fondly. 

“And?” Shen Qingqiu prompted him, because if he didn’t Yue Qingyuan would be content to smile like an idiot and stare at him for another twenty minutes before getting to the point. 

“Yuan-di is too old to live in the side room,” Yue Qingyuan said.

Shen Qingqiu was able to bite down his knee-jerk objection, because he read between the lines on that. He certainly didn’t want Shen Yuan’s beast trying to sleep there either. It was irritating enough that Shen Qingqiu had to put up with meals with him when Shen Yuan felt compelled to remember filial responsibility.

“He’s committed to the idea that Ning Yingying should be head disciple in his stead,” Shen Qingqiu said, bitterly. He washed it down with another sip of tea. It was shortsighted. Yuan wasn’t going to be a rogue cultivator forever. 

That gave Shen Qingqiu another thought. “What prompted this?”

Yue Qingyuan lifted his shoulders barely enough to be considered a shrug. “He mentioned that he missed teaching when we spoke last.” 

“He mentioned that in an official capacity?” Shen Qingqiu asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It was implied,” Yue Qingyuan said, too dismissively. There were too many tells Shen Yuan had that Qi-ge should have at least picked up on by now. How did he not know for certain?

Still…

“An Ding will have a fit,” Shen Qingqiu said, smirking.

Yue Qingyuan’s face went eerily blank and he poured his own cup of tea. “The An Ding Peak Lord has so much practice balancing his loyalties, surely balancing the budget should be no issue.”

Shen Qingqiu’s smile felt feral. “Say that to him at the next Peak Meeting.”

“Xiao-Jiu,” Yue Qingyuan said, barely an objection. He sipped at his tea. “I wouldn’t want to use it too early. I’m sure the appropriate moment will show up.”

“Stop attempting to seduce me when you know we’re both busy today,” Shen Qingqiu groused and inhaled the responding little laugh Yue Qingyuan gave him. 

He’d have to write up a requisition for another bamboo house this evening.