Chapter Text
Mu Qingfang is content to fade into the background.
He has always considered himself average. He was neither elegant like Shen Qingqiu nor breathtakingly beautiful like Liu Qingge. He did not possess the grace of Yue Qingyuan nor the confidence of Qi Qingqi.
But it never mattered much to him. He was content to be a background character in the lives of people far more interesting and exciting than himself. Content to turn his attention to healing and herbs and teaching his disciples.
But every now and then he wished he was more dynamic. He wished he caught people’s attention.
Like now, watching Liu Qingge talking to Shen Qingqiu.
Well, more like Shen Qingqiu talking and Liu Qingge nodding occasionally. But either way, they were interacting.
Maybe if he was more interesting, Liu Qingge would decide to talk to him instead. Maybe if he was more elegant, more intelligent, more like Shen Qingqiu, then Liu Qingge would turn that onyx gaze on him instead.
But he isn’t. He’s Mu Qingfang. Quiet, steady, boring. And he’s usually content with that.
He just sometimes wishes he was more.
These are the thoughts in his head during the Peak Lord meeting to discuss an upcoming joint training between the peaks. A competition of sorts for the disciples who wanted to enter. An attempt to strengthen the bonds between the peaks by getting the disciples to interact with one another.
Mu Qingfang’s presence ended up being not really required except for him to confirm he would be prepared for any injuries. Which was typical for these meetings.
He could have used this time to catch up on paperwork or restocking his medicine cabinet or researching his latest herbal creation.
Instead, he has to sit and watch Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge whisper quietly while Yue Qingyuan only sends them mildly exasperated looks.
He feels a slight ache in his chest.
The meeting eventually concludes and, like usual, Ku Xing’s Peak Lord, Zhang Yong, invites everyone out for drinks.
And like usual, Mu Qingfang declines the invitation citing peak duties when, really, he doesn’t want to spend more time around Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu together than he has to.
“Aww Mu-shidi,” Qi Qingqi frowns slightly, “you work too hard. You need to learn to relax”
Mu Qingfang feels Liu Qingge turn to look at him. He smiles at his shijie, ignoring the intense dark eyes he can feel trained on his back.
“People never stop being injured Qi-shijie,” he bows, “there’s always someone to take care of”
“And who takes care of you?” she arches a perfectly manicured brow.
“I’m managing fine,” he laughs.
“You have dark circles beneath your eyes, Mu-shidi,” she points out with characteristic bluntness, “you’re not getting enough rest. For a doctor who tells people to take care of themselves, you’re not very good at taking care of yourself”
“Shijie, please...” Mu Qingfang flushes and looks away.
“Nope. You’re coming with us,” she wraps a deceptively strong hand around Mu Qingfang’s bicep and hauls him along.
Resigning himself to his fate of having to watch Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu together longer, he allows the manhandling.
.....
Mu Qingfang sometimes also wishes he was more assertive. Maybe then he could have avoided being crushed into a booth and surrounded by his fellow Peak Lords in various states of inebriation.
He flicks his gaze over to where Liu Qingge is sandwiched between Wan Jian’s Peak Lord Wei Qingwei and Shen Qingqiu.
The latter is whispering something to Shang Qinghua on his left and Liu Qingge looks mildly annoyed at that.
It makes the ache in Mu Qingfang’s chest return and he stares down at his cup of baijiu as if it would have the answers to how to stop pining over someone impossibly out of his reach.
“Mu-shidiii,” Zhang Yong slides into the booth next to him and drapes a heavy arm around his shoulders, startling him out of his thoughts, “you haven’t touched your wine”
Mu Qingfang smiles at his fellow lord who is clearly already several cups in.
“I’m not a particular fan of baijiu,” Mu Qingfang says politely.
“Well why didn’t you say so!” Zhang Yong flails a hand to flag down a waitress, “really, Mu-shidi, don’t be so accommodating!” he turns to the waitress, “can we get some huangjiu for my friend here?” he presses some coins into the waitresses’ hand, “and perhaps some sticky rice cakes!” he glances at Mu Qingfang, “if I recall, you have a sweet tooth, right Mu-shidi?”
Mu Qingfang can feel the flush creeping up his neck.
“I-really Zhang-shixiong, there was no need-“
“Nonsense!” he cuts him off, “consider it a thank you for all those hangover remedies you’ve prepared for my peak!”
Mu Qingfang ducks his head, feeling flustered.
Ku Xing is the entertainment peak. They are responsible for providing music, dancing and theater plays as well as procuring food and drink for various events.
Every now and then, they have to sample wines in order to determine the best wine for the event.
In those situations, Mu Qingfang always supplies Ku Xing Peak with several hangover remedies as a favor to an old friend.
He and Zhang Yong had done their training together briefly and had become fairly close.
“Ah, Zhang-shixiong there’s no need for thanks. I’m just doing my job”
“You’re so humble, Mu-shidi,” Zhang Yong pinches his cheek lightly. “Let this shixiong treat you”
Mu Qingfang thinks of protesting more, but the other man is insistent and he doesn’t want to come across as rude.
“...this shidi is grateful,” he acquiesces.
Zhang Yong grins, tightening his grip around Mu Qingfang as the huangjiu arrives, along with a plate of sticky rice cakes.
“Cheers to a successful Peak Lord meeting!” Zhang Yong grins at him after pouring him a cup. Mu Qingfang can’t help but glance over to where Shen Qingqiu is now whispering something to Liu Qingge. The former flicks his gaze to Mu Qingfang, who looks back at Zhang Yong.
He makes up his mind.
“You know what,” Mu Qingfang smiles, “to a successful Peak Lord meeting!” he downs the cup of wine in one.
Zhang Yong laughs.
“That’s very impressive of Mu-shidi!” he sways slightly, leaning further against Mu Qingfang as he pours him another cup and nudges the sticky rice cakes towards him.
Mu Qingfang decides to ignore the aching in his heart by ignoring Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu for the night and letting loose for once and having fun.
It’s a good decision.
Qi Qingqi gets drunk enough to sing some horribly off-key ballad with Wei Qingwei.
Zui Xian’s Peak Lord, Wang Wei, loudly regales his end of the table with a, clearly embellished, story of when he was a disciple and had to fight off a swarm of zhenniao, complete with sound effects.
For the first time, Mu Qingfang finds himself able to let go and have fun. Thoughts of Liu Qingge dance at the edges of his mind, but Mu Qingfang pushes them away.
He munches on sticky rice cakes and laughs, free and unfettered, into Zhang Yong’s hair as his shixiong continues to ply him with wine.
Eventually, Zhang Yong slumps in his seat and Mu Qingfang’s eyes get heavy.
He’s hovering at the edge of awareness when he feels strong arms slide beneath him and scoop him up and then the wind is cool against his cheeks.
The arms surrounding him are warm and he feels secure. Nestling against the broad torso the arms are connected to, Mu Qingfang lets out a content sigh and drifts into unconsciousness.