Chapter Text
After everything, Shen Yuan seriously considers whether or not he’s going to have to find a new doctor. You see- he’s an easy going guy, not high maintenance at all when it comes to most things. Sure, he’s chronically ill and kind of a shut-in, but he’s also made peace with his lot in life which makes the whole chronically ill thing much easier. Were Shen Yuan a normal person he would be much more difficult to deal with considering what he’s been through. Any normal person would likely be bitter about what a shitty hand he’s been dealt but Shen Yuan cannot find it in himself to be bitter any longer. What’s the point, if it won’t change his unfortunate circumstances?
Back to the man at hand- he’s always been pretty…. Severe, simply put, and Shen Yuan has known him for years. Mu Qingfang is a very meticulous man, very particular about his patients, and intimidating in his own way- which is exactly why Shen Yuan thinks Shen Jiu likes him so much. Enough to let him handle his extensive medical care, at least. Mu Qingfang is intimidating when he wants to be, sometimes more so than Shen Jiu himself whenever Shen Yuan does something he isn’t supposed to. Which, admittedly, is more common than Shen Yuan or anyone in his life would like to admit.
Said man is who he wakes up to thereafter, poking and prodding away at his ashen skin in the uncomfortable way doctors tend to, with one of those severe looks Shen Yuan fears plastered on his features.
“He’s awake.” He says, as if making an uninteresting discovery, voice audibly unbothered. The look he sends Shen Yuan though… it makes him want to cower beneath the thin hospital sheets.
It’s nothing compared to that of the second persons’ in the room, though. Shen Yuan sits up and physically shivers at the sight, eyes downtrodden. Scratch what he said about Mu Qingfang being scarier than Shen Jiu sometimes- his brother… he’s truly terrifying!
Shen Jiu has a very intense look to him to begin with, perpetually angry looking or apathetic with no in between. Shen Yuan always wondered how Shen Jiu has no wrinkles with how much he frowns on a daily basis- a scowl constantly maring his otherwise picturesque features. Sure, he’s pretty hard to read in a room of strangers, but Shen Yuan doesn’t remember the last time the man smiled around him- anything less than a frown is a miracle in itself.
In spite of this, Shen Yuan has always thought his older brother to be a beautiful creature, in an ethereal sort of way. An elegant man born for elegant givings, much like a crane with the tenacity of a phoenix dawning a disaster. Shen Jiu holds himself together with not a spec under grace, not a crack of disorder visible on him at any given moment. It’s something Shen Yuan has always envied of him- the ability to keep it together no matter the circumstances, to not allow anyone to know what lies beneath the facade. Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu are similar in many ways, but in this they could not be any more different, he thinks.
Despite there being half a decade difference in age between the two, many would draw physical comparisons between them in Shen Yuan’s healthier years. So much so that when coordinated, the only thing that truly sets them apart to the untrained eye is personality. Jokes were constantly made that Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan were destined to be of the same womb, torn apart by fate’s whims but twins in everything but name. This, he agrees with- Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu have always been two halves of the same coin, he thinks. Without Shen Jiu, there is no Shen Yuan, and without Shen Yuan, there would simply be no Shen Jiu. Where he goes, Shen Jiu will follow and vice versa. This has always been the matter of life for them, from the moment of Shen Yuan’s birth and coming into Shen Jiu’s life- sometimes, it is the only reason Shen Yuan pushes past everything. They have only truly had each other for the majority of their lives, with his Jiu-ge being his first and foremost advocate for just about everything.
But the look he’s sending him now is enough to send Shen Yuan into a fit of cold sweat. Those peerless features of his are drawn into a scornful look, scalding anger cemented into his wrinkle-less features.
“Shen Yuan.” His voice comes down with such fierce gravity that Shen Yuan honestly feels like he can’t breathe under the force of it. Well, I guess this is where I die a sisterless bachelor…..
The melodic click of Shen Jiu’s Louis Vuitton heels resound loudly and damingly in the quiet hospital room as he nears what will soon be Shen Yuan’s deathbed. Mu Qingfang moves to make room for Shen Jiu, fully granting Shen Yuan a new unobstructed view of his brother. What he did not see before, in his newly awakened (and still slightly delirious!) state- the redness in Shen Jiu’s jade green eyes, marred by bruisingly purple eyebags and clear distress. There's a greasy tinge to his usually pristine hair and a startling lack of a wedding band on his right hand. Oh boy.
Shen Jiu does not seem to notice how taken aback he seems to be because he continues to march forward with grace only Shen Jiu could hold. “Shen Yuan.” His voice is poignant, giving no allusion to just how truly furious he is. But to someone who was practically raised by him like Shen Yuan was, he knows and by gods, he really is going to die today isn’t he– “Do you know just what you’ve put me through? How worried I was, for my dear little didi? When I came home with Qi- Yue Qingyuan, and you…. You-”
Shen Jiu suddenly heaves forward, the facade of grace gone in the blink of an eye instead replaced by a dawning desperation so incredibly Shen Jiu. He reaches for the lapels of Shen Yuan’s thin hospital robes, yanking him forward viciously by the collar.
Shen Yuan watches from the corner of his eye as Mu Qingfang quietly slips out of the room. Traitor! Traitor! You’re the one who's supposed to keep me alive-
“-- I came home to not only an empty apartment, but the bathroom, destroyed, bloody- and you, Shen Yuan-” Shen Jiu is unable to get a full sentence out with how heavy his breathing is, his expression dragged down into something ugly and truly beastly. Shen Yuan’s never seen him this upset- he’s really crossed the line today, huh?
“You were gone- again. What was I to think, dear little A-Yuan? Was I not to immediately jump to the worst conclusions when you’ve pulled this bullshit before?” He punctuates each word with a shake, the red in his eyes eclipsing in a way that makes Shen Yuan think he might actually break into tears. Shen Yuan himself can hardly breathe under the weight of the emotion Shen Jiu conveys. “Yue Qingyuan called the police, every hospital in town, even morgues- we thought you were passed out dead in an alleyway, for fucks sake! Do you simply choose not to understand how you affect the people around you—” This time, he pushes right into his face, so close Shen Yuan can almost feel the anger coming off him in waves.
“You may not care for your own life, Shen Yuan, but hear me now. You will not give it up in a fit of selfish mania, I won’t allow it. I don’t — I can’t —” He’s shaking so badly it rattles Shen Yuan too, now.
“But ge—”
“No, no excuses this time. You promised last time that it wouldn’t happen again. You swore, yet—-” He heaves another breath, all but collapsing onto Shen Yuan’s chest, ragged breaths the only sound filling the room for a long moment.
“Jiu-ge….” Shen Jiu’s forehead rests on Shen Yuan’s collarbone, fists drawn tight enough to make the fabric of his Shen Yuan’s medicinal robes creak.
Defeated, and almost inaudible amidst his heavy breathing: “You can’t keep doing this to me.”
Jiu-ge is really crying, Shen Yuan thinks. Not that he’d ever say it out loud, though- because that’s when he’d really become a twenty some year old dead shut in. Shen Yuan can count how many times he’s seen Shen Jiu cry on one hand and every time it had been silent, expressionless in a way that made it seem like Shen Jiu wasn’t even crying at all. Like a statue, expressionless but in tears to the point of the act bordering unsettling.
But this time, Shen Jiu openly weeps, voice raw and angry and most of all resentful in a way that is so signaturely Shen Jiu. Leave it to him that the only time he truly lets it all go that he does it in such an …. Angry way. His body heaves so much with the effort of it that it looks nearly painful.
“I’m sorry.” Is all shen Yuan can manage, throat strangely tight at the sight of what state he’d put his brother in. As if approaching a fearful creature, Shen Yuan tentatively pulls his arms around Shen Jiu in a facsimile of comfort.
“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want your meaningless apologies.” He heaves angrily between breaths, allowing himself to be held in Shen Yuan’s embrace in spite of the biting words. They spend a long time like that, sharing whispered apologies that seem to amount to nothing under the crushing sound of Shen Jiu’s loss.
–
A long while later, after Shen Yuan has braved most of Shen Jiu’s fury, a teary earful from Yue Qingyuan (who walks in awkwardly shooting Shen Jiu apologetic glaces, still visibly wearing his own wedding band….. Definitely not a can of worms Shen Yuan wants to open any time soon…) and yet another oath to never pull such a stunt again, Mu Qingfang returns as if summoned.
He says nothing, simply stares at him expectantly- Shen Yuan begins to sweat nervously again. Someone needs to help him out here. He’s ill- they shouldn’t be putting him under so much pressure! Next to him, Shen Jiu noisily sips at his coffee, giving him a pointed look that Shen Yuan cannot help but wilt under. Yue Qingyuan, who sits at his bedside, is the only one to give him an apologetic look. Qi ge, save me, won’t you…..
“It’s not as bad as it looks! I just– I felt nauseous, but now I’m better, I swear!” He blurts ungracefully. Mu Qingfang says nothing, but the look in his eye says enough to send Shen Yuan backpedaling. He’s sweating profusely, nervous and on the verge of a panic attack; Mu Qingfang is scary, okay?—
Well, not as terrifying as the man who lives off caffeine sitting to his right, but. Yeah. Or…. The man he saw last night!
“Hallucinations!” He blurts once again, surprising even himself. This gets the attention of everyone in the room, and Mu Qingfang finally raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I had… hallucinations.” He lands on lamely.
Right, that could be the only explanation of course! A man so godly, carved from jadeite perfection like that couldn’t actually be real. That luxurious xianxia getup and entirely too large sword… yes! It could only be a make of his own lonely mind! A sad conjurement of his lonely (and thirsty, apparently?) imagination, what he wishes he could be in life instead of the sad skinny little man he was! With a body like that, he could really do anything!
“Sleep paralysis episodes again?” Shen Jiu cuts in sharply, cutting through the building tension. “Didn’t tell us you were having them again.”
“No, not bad episodes like before. Yesterday was the first time in a long time.” Shen Yuan pauses momentarily, mind once again filled with images of the god-like man. He involuntarily shivers at the memory of the fathomless look in his eyes, intense and so very …. Enticing. In the most heterosexual way possible, of course! It was probably that he thought Shen Yuan was so pathetic that it was funny or something! His expression, albeit too complicated to read, was so clear and visible for a dream. Shen Yuan’s been the victim of many sleep paralysis episodes before and they’ve never been so … realistic. No thoughts are spared for the man's outrageously realistic pecs and abs- because of course his robes hung low enough that Shen Yuan got a good eyeful of them! And he even saw the dark outline of a nipp--- it was a hallucination! No reason to think too hard about it anymore!
“Mn. Probably an interaction effect between one of the emergency medications you received last night. Had you called me, it could have been avoided.” Mu Qingfang isn’t looking at him, scribbling something indiscernible onto a clipboard but Shen Yuan flinches nonetheless. He wasn’t getting off the hook soon, was he? “In any case, we’ll look closer at the medications you’re receiving to stave off any effect of the like. For the time being, you’ll need to remain hospitalized until we’re sure you’ve stabilized. Should only be a few days, if we’re lucky. You’re doing better than I anticipated, but you’re not well either.”
Shen Jiu snorted, setting his drink down and coming to stand next to Mu Qingfang with a placidly terrifying smile. “I’ll take care of my precious little didi and make sure he doesn’t pull any more of these stunts, not to worry, Mu Qingfang.” Turning to Shen Yuan, the smile turns into something more beastly. The glint in his eye makes Shen Yuan want to cower… mercy, dear brother, this Shen Yuan can’t deal with anymore of your scary attitude! “As for you– I will personally see to your recovery myself since it seems you’re incapable of taking care of yourself.”
Shen Yuan gulps and nods meekly. His brothers’ grin widens before he clicks his tongue and turns back around to his seat decisively. It’ll be a long recovery, won’t it?
–
Shen Yuan is hardly surprised when, a few days following this conversation, he sees the man once again.
You see, Shen Yuan hasn’t gotten much sleep in the past couple of days. Aside from a few winks of it here and there, he’s really been struggling. All of his self compartmentalization aside, Shen Yuan is genuinely sick-- so a lack of sleep is to be expected. The rare moment he did drift off to sleep, it was always restless, the edges of his weird drug induced dreams tinged red and never specific enough for him to remember the morning after.
Though he hasn’t actively slept enough, the man has continued to plague his thoughts. Shen Yuan finds his mind wandering to the odd dream constantly, the echo of a quiet yet powerful Shizun on repeat in his head. He’s taken to calling the man ‘the protagonist’ in his head- a man so perfect, so immaculate, could only be a protagonist! Shen Yuan read his fair share of trashy stallion novels with protagonists who look …. Just like this guy, so it’s really fitting to call him that! Besides, establishing him as the protagonist only cements the fact in his medically induced brain of his that he is, in fact, not real.
In any case, in the present- Shen Jiu is passed out on a rollaway bed across the room, seemingly deep in sleep completely under his personal silk duvet. The protagonist is back, standing menacingly at the edge of his bed and Shen Yuan is once again unable to do much besides stare. Sleep paralysis works funnily like that- cant move, can’t think, only panic and have an existential crisis! Except this time, Shen Yuan’s panic is less focused on the fact that the protagonist might kill him (he can’t kill him if it's a dream! Hah, take that! Dream physics!) and more on the fact that the man in front of him looks like he might drop dead himself.
Sure, he’s standing menacingly at his feet once again, but this time he’s covered in cuts and bruises. His whole body is littered with injuries and Shen Yuan thinks that he may as well be the one lying in a hospital bed instead of him. His robes are torn in various places, with a tear conveniently running straight through the middle of his torso, exposing a bloodied cut and a ….. Very prominent eight pack. Okay. So, the protagonist is not only gorgeous, but ripped. Fair enough.
“Shizun.” The protagonist speaks with the same level of power to his voice as last time, but there’s a distinct difference to it, too- a sort of wheezing Shen Yuan thinks might be an attempt to mask the obvious pain he’s in. He makes a move towards Shen Yuan but stumbles awkwardly, catching himself on the edge of Shen Yuan’s bed. His ….. Unreasonably large hand hovers next to Shen Yuan’s ankle as he struggles to catch his breath.
“Are…..” Shen Yuan struggles to move his own face, his voice coming out straggly and quite frankly, pathetic. “Are you– okay?” He manages after a long moment. The man reacts instantaneously, eyes zeroing in on him in milliseconds and sure, it’s only been a couple days, but Shen Yuan had forgotten the utter depth of his eyes in that short period. It’s enough to send another fit of involuntary shivers down his spine.
“This lord… This lord has suffered some injuries. But it is not cause to worry, Shizun.” He stands at his full height once more, towering over Shen Yuan with ease. One of his hands is clasped over his abdomen, a deep crimson blossoming beneath his ivory skin. Shen Yuan outwardly cringes at the way the protagonists’ grip seems to tighten around the wound when he notices his gaze. It looks… painful, to say the least. But of course it’s not real! This outrageously attractive man with an outrageously large wound is only part of his imagination, so there’s no need to fret, Shen Yuan!
Instead of asking him if he’s alright once more (why should he worry, when he’s not even real?!), Shen Yuan settles on: “You– keep saying that…. Shizun.”
“Yes. Shizun is shizun. This lord would recognize him in any lifetime, in any form.” He says it as if it is a simple fact of life, face strangely void of any emotion other than the intense gaze that keeps Shen Yuan pinned in place. It’s unfair how outrageously gorgeous the man looks, even when he’s brooding and literally bleeding onto the vinyl tiles like that. Shen Yuan’s so distracted by the blood oozing down the line of his … defined chest, that the protagonist's words do not register until several moments later.
Who’s shizun?! Not this shut in for sure! He isn’t old enough to be anyone’s shizun nor does he have the life experience to teach either- what kind of shizun would he be, one who teaches the ways of stallion novels and other trashy literature?!
“Ha–Haha, I think you have the wrong person—” Shen Yuan starts with a nervous chortle, lungs rattling in his chest as he speaks and devolves into a short coughing fit. Damn sleep paralysis, not letting him move his body and making his breathing so labored!!
The protagonist does not acknowledge anything Shen Yuan says, instead tilting his head and staring at him in a very peculiar manner. It makes him feel naked and vulnerable, like he’s nothing but an insignificant bug being studied under a microscope as he hacks his lungs away. “Shizun is still very ill it seems.” The protagonist lands on, somehow stepping another inch closer without Shen Yuan realizing it.
“No shit.” Shen Yuan retorts under his breath, rolling his eyes as best he can. Sure, it looks like he’s carved from marble and is only a figment of his imagination, but the protagonist is only just now realizing Shen Yuan’s sick? Seems like he’s missing some vital information here because last he checked, Shen Yuan’s the one who looks like he’s on death's doorstep! Sure, this guy’s covered in wounds, but spare some for the rest of us, bud, you still look like you’ve walked straight out of an art gallery!
Either the protagonist didn’t hear what Shen Yuan said or deems him not worthy of an answer, because next thing Shen Yuan knows he’s directly at his bedside, looming over him in a way that can only be described as menacingly. Shen Yuan wants to shrink back and away from him, but is instead only engulfed in his shadow.
“Shizun.” This time, Shen Yuan is unable to look away. There’s something deeply intimate about the way this man’s looking at him, so intense yet bordering on something else that makes Shen Yuan’s skin crawl. The room is quietly engulfed into silence, Shen Jiu’s quiet breathing from across the room the only noise to be heard. How he hasn’t awoken yet is beyond him– sure, this is only a hallucination, but Shen Yuan’s sure he’s speaking out loud and—- the coughing—-
“This disciple is injured, Shizun.” The wheeze is gone and the statement said with finality that makes Shen Yuan flinch. This disciple is injured— do something, is clearly implied albeit not said out loud. Though his gaze remains impassive, eyes void of anything but the same intensity Shen Yuan’s been laboring over all night, there’s a quality to the way he’s standing that makes their hair at the nape of Shen Yuan’s neck stand on end. All too suddenly Shen Yuan is engulfed in fear, cornered in his own hospital room by a hallucination that’s making him have a crisis and is dripping blood all over his hospital room floor—
But before he can panic further, something shifts. A short huff of audible breath leaves the protagonist's lips and a flash of something (Anger? Resentment? Disappointment? Shen Yuan doesn’t know and isn't sure if he wants to find out) leaves his eyes, gone in a matter of seconds. Shen Yuan doesn’t have the chance to say anything before he’s turning away and facing the other side of the room, unveiling the large sword from his last dream.
Like a solemn oath or promise of what's to come, the protagonist glances back towards Shen Yuan a final time and says: “Shizun is shizun and he will come around.” And with that, he’s simply gone.