Chapter Text
Shen Qingqiu knew that transmigrating into a perfectly healthy and strong body was too good to be true. Besides the possibility that he would be horribly murdered, that is. The first signs started showing only a week or so after he’d woken up, just as he was adjusting. His old body’s bad health surely had affected his soul, if it was still haunting him. He’d feel faint – at seemingly opportune times, he thought as he reflected, since it was never when he was in danger – which always lead to him taking a seat as soon as he could. At least the original good’s straight face didn’t betray anything…
He’d often sit, on the raised walkways of Bai Zhan peak while Liu Qingge ‘teased’ him for being weak and frail (never with Yue Qingyuan around, due to how recent his fever had been), in the Peak Master’s gardens on stone benches which said Peak Master took as his ‘Xiao Jiu’ wanted to spend more time with him. Mu Qingfang gave absolutely no indication though. If he knew the new good’s weak constitution, he didn’t show it. If he assumed it was the fever’s effects, he didn’t show it. The man didn’t show anything but exhaustion!!! Take a nap, Mu Qingfang! Luckily, his disciples seemed to be used to him sitting down after being up too long, perhaps the original goods were lazy (or worse, too good to stand the entire time his own disciples were).
Oh what a fool he was to assume that would be it. The day after they returned from that damn Skinner mission, they were taking tea together in hopes that Binghe would relax. The boy needed to stop being such a ball of nervous excitement! You’ll worry your master!!! It was a good day, good tea on a quiet morning. His disciple sitting across from him finally had the heart to glance up at his master, perhaps the atmosphere had finally settled down he figured. That thought stopped the moment those large brown eyes widened at him. Why? Why!?
“Sh-shizun!!!” Luo Binghe is immediately at his side with a napkin from the table. Perhaps he wasn’t paying enough attention…. Shen Qingqiu only registered the warm wet feeling on his top lip when Binghe reached to press the cloth there. “I’ll go get Mu-shishu!” Oh hell no, that won’t do. He will not have that tired worker bee in his bamboo house ruining his good morning with his fussing over something that will easily stop itself soon.
“That is not needed.” There. That should be impassive enough – Shen Qingqiu enough – to soothe his- not!!! Instead of being soothed, Binghe looks mildly alarmed and more than a little sad. Why!? Binghe it’s just a nosebleed, this master can handle it! He’s not so weak that some lazy blood leaking from his nose would cause him to need a healer, especially another peak lord. Luckily, Binghe takes the hint. He sits and fidgets by his master’s side as said master continues sipping his tea with exasperated acceptance.
The moment it was done, Binghe hurried off to go clean the napkin (to his master’s protests), only returning once it’s back to its snowy white color. At least it wasn’t much blood he thought as he took the damp cloth Binghe offered him, wiping away the dried mess on his lip. A pat on the head and Binghe no longer looks like he’ll immediately cry, instead just looking like he might cry. An improvement.
“Binghe’s tea is cold.” He notes, purposefully ignoring the slightly alarmed look on his disciple’s face as he goes to finish it; “Perhaps tomorrow we can take tea outside. The breeze is refreshing…”
“Yes, shizun.” His disciple responds easily.
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Shizun, in all his beauty and grace and kindness, is bleeding. The moment his master breathed out through his nose and it sounded… different? Binghe knew something was wrong. Maybe his body was still recovering…. No. A small peek of red from his Shizun’s nose was all the warning he had before blood started to stream out. To his own credit, he moved quickly and blocked the blood from dripping down to his chin and therefore onto those perfect cream and green robes – or, worse, into his mouth, as his master seems to be unaware- to ruin them. He only seems to realize it when the flow is blocked, an emotion passing briefly through his eyes before it disappeared.
“I’ll go get Mu-shishu!” Obviously, if his shizun is hurt or bleeding for no reason, Mu-shishu could help. He needed to know, as he was Shizun’s primary doctor. He needed to get his shishu now! A tiny pinch between his master’s brows appears then smooths out as he takes another sip of his tea.
“That is not needed.” Shen Qingqiu says evenly. Unaffected. Colored with past experience, Binghe can’t tell if it is meant to comfort him. If Shizun is trying to stay calm to comfort him, he’s touched. If Shizun is truly so unaffected by blood pouring from his own nose, Binghe is in awe. A normal nosebleed would have been no problem even to a disciple, but this was a lot of blood!!! The standing silence as he tends to his tea-sipping shizun is tense, though Binghe thinks that is purely from him.
This calm…. The ability to continue what he was doing even when he’s bleeding…. Ah, that tired look in his eyes when it first happened. This…. Has happened to shizun before then. That look in his eyes, the calm manner he continues to sip his sweetened tea – Binghe is thankful he put honey in their tea, his shizun wouldn’t need to get lightheaded – and the way he breathed softly through his mouth told more about his past than Binghe had ever been privy to before. He leaned slightly forward to avoid blood running back down his throat, he breathed through his mouth to avoid accidently inhaling the blood, he took practiced long breaths between sips of tea to avoid getting lightheaded.
Was this…. A result of his qi deviations? From the scraps his shizun had let him grasp at before, he understood that his shizun suffered terrible qi deviations and instability through his life, progressively growing worse until he had that fever that sent the peaks into a tense, alarmed state. Maybe… he got nosebleeds from these qi deviations? He hadn’t suffered any signs of another qi deviation since his fever, his spiritual energy stabilizing rapidly since then, along with his mood. Was this a minor qi deviation? Was his head hurting!? Or…. Maybe his body was just prone to nosebleeds?
No matter. Binghe resolved that he would be here for him now that he’d finally changed his heart. Shizun finally accepted him and if this was part of shizun – qi deviation or not – he would accept it. He removes the cloth to check the blood flow, finding it has finally stopped. With a hurried excuse, he goes outside and cleans out the napkin while it’s still wet. After ringing it out, he brings it back and…. He can’t bring himself to clean his master’s face. He finally hesitates long enough for Shen Qingqiu to take the cloth from him and clean himself. Dried smudges of blood wiped off cool, immortal jade.
Instead of speaking – of wasting his words on Binghe – his shizun simply pats his head and returns his focus to what’s left of his tea with a soft reminder that Binghe completely abandoned his own. Right! They were having tea. He goes to sit back on his side of the table to sip his now ice-cold tea and watch this distant and lofty immortal through his eyelashes.
“Perhaps tomorrow we can take tea outside. The breeze is refreshing…” Not so distant. Shizun is untouchable, but here. Binghe finds that, despite how dire the situation seemed, he feels closer to his shizun. Like he’s seen a part of him that others had not. Distant and hard to reach… Like a mountain peak. You’ll reach it eventually, and you can admire it along the way.
“Yes, shizun.” He replied easily.