Work Text:
A Heart forcefully taken
Luo Binghes breath is carefully controlled as he joins his new brothers and sisters up to the mountain peak of Qing Jing. He tries to ignore their whispers as they talk about the testing they all have just finished and the oddity of Lou Binghe. Their hearts walk at their sides, smiling or laughing with them and Binghe again, feels the agonizing stab of loneliness. No heart is at his side.
He dares to glance up ahead to the man, the immortal master who has chosen him to be a disciple of Qing Jing Peak. He too walks alone. At his side walk the other Peak Lords, in black and gold, tall and kind looking, the leader of the Peaks, Yue Qingyuan and in blue and white, stern and silent, the warrior god of Bai Zhan Peak Liu Qingge. Their hearts walk at their sides, Liu Quingges heart a head and a half smaller than the man, but no less strong and rumor has it, so beautiful that she always has to wear a veil to protect herself and the people around her. Yue Qingyuans heart is as tall as the Lord, even stronger looking, but he walks a little hunched, the man's gaze unsure and cowed, thus appearing smaller. But Binghe does not care for these men and their hearts, the reason he came here, the reason he participated in the testing was the other Lord, Shen Qingqiu. The Peak Lord without a heart.
Just like him.
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For the last two months, Binghe has cursed his traitorous tongue for speaking up at that first and only interview with his Shizun. Lord Shen had asked him about his past, had listened to his tale of being found as a baby and losing his adoptive mother this winter with a cool, but neutral expression, until he asked after Binghes heart.
“This disciple was found alone, this disciple doesn’t have a heart.” Binghe had answered and everything was fine, then he foolishly added: “Just like Shizun.” Immediately Lord Shens cool expression turned arctic with fury and Binghe found himself drenched in scorching tea, his flesh heart beating in his throat with fear.
“Out!” the single word made him shiver with ice, despite the hot beverage drenching him.
Tears threaten to rise in Binghes eyes as he thinks back to that moment. He was a fool. Doesn’t he know what it feels like? Shouldn’t he know? But the words were spoken and he can’t take them back. He just has to work as hard as he can to show he is still worthy to be a disciple of this Peak. No matter the difficulties he has with the other disciples, who of course noticed the cold regard of their Shizun towards Binghe and equally regarded him thus.
These thoughts are occupying his mind as he sweeps the path from the learning halls to Shizuns small house at the edge of the bamboo forest. These are the thoughts interrupted by a soft but clear voice.
“The lead led nowhere, this Shixiong is sorry, Shidi.”
That’s right, he’d heard that Sect Leader Yue Qingyuan had arrived back from a mission today and was visiting his Shizun. Why did he sound so guilty? For a moment Binghe asks himself if he should leave, knowing the Lords were probably not intending their conversation to be heard. He turns around and is stopped by the next sentence.
“Another promise broken, then.” his Shizuns cold, cutting voice replies. “Zhangmen-shixiong better leave now, this Shidi sure he is very busy after his mission.”
“Shidi, there is still hope, I can-”
“It’s been over a century, Yue Shixiong, we’ve searched every nook and cranny of this world and your heart did the same for the demon realm, there is no hope anymore.” Shen Qingqiu started in his usual cold tone, but his voice broke on the last sentence. “Please leave.”
“Shidi is giving up on him?” the Sect leader asks, voice filled with sorrow and regret.
“Please leave.” the words more forceful than before. Binghe can hear Lord Yue move towards the door and he quickly hides. He watches as the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect leader leaves and carefully crawls out of his hideout. He really shouldn’t have listened in. This is none of his business. He can’t help but be too close to hear soft words anyway, as he turns away and makes his way up the path again, planning to get his broom back to storage.
“My heart is dying, Qi-ge. There is no hope.”
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Yue Qingyuan sighs as he finally enters his private chambers late in the evening, having been assaulted with paperwork and meetings all day, after returning from Qing Jing Peak.
Strong arms surround him and pull him against a muscular chest, one big hand pressing in between his shoulder blades, the other warm against the back of his skull and neck. He can feel a wet cheek press against his hair and the Sect leader can’t help but smile, as he hugs back his tall, weeping heart.
“Xiao Qinghua, it’s alright.” he tries to soothe his heart.
“It is not, though.” his heart refutes. “If A-Yuan is not in this world and not in the realm of demons, then he is in another realm. We both know a heart will fade away without the person it belongs to, it’s been so long already. Time is running out. We’ll lose them both.” More and more tears drop into his hair and sobs start to wreck the man in his arms. Yue Qingyuan feels like he’s standing in the ashes of the Qui family home all over again, days too late to fulfill his promise, devastated by his failure.
“There has to be something-”
“What? What is there left for us to do? We searched the ruins of the Qui Family home for a clue, but nothing was left to hint at what they have done with A-Jius heart! We only know he is not dead because A-Jiu is still here, we have nowhere left to look, no-one left to ask. What can we do?” Shang Qinghua takes a step back and glares at him with his tear streaked face, his mouth a grimace of sorrow.
“I don’t know.” he admits, his own tears threatening to fall. He looks up at his big, strong, fragile heart and shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
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Mobei Jun looks down from his throne with disdain as the heart of the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect leader steps forward and bows. Such a weak thing belonging to such a strong man. It is moments like these that he thanks his ancestors that demons aren’t burdened with hearts, only the ones beating in their chest. Just another weakness of humans.
“My king.” Shang Qinghua kneels and Mobei Jun waits until the mans fingers have started to turn blue from the ice before he acknowledges him.
“Yes? Why have you come?”
“This heart brings a request and an offer, my king.” The voice is unusually strong and unfaltering today, Mobei Jun can’t help but be intrigued.
“Mh? Then let me hear what you have to say.”
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Shen Yuan remembers a time when his life wasn’t plagued by agony. Years and years ago, when he was close to his person, when he maybe had been sold and beaten, but he had never been alone. He remembers A-Jius screams as he was dragged away, he remembers the blood coating the floor in strange sigils, the rogue cultivator chanting in foreign tongues. He remembers A-Jiu bursting in, sword in hand and covered in crimson, before darkness took him. He remembers waking up in a foreign world, being adopted into a loving family.
Above all, he remembers the pain. Like a knife in the middle of his chest it began and slowly spread over the years, more and more until he could barely walk, until he could barely breathe. But he held on. For years he held on, clinging to life with every ounce of strength he could spare.
With every year that passed he grew weaker though. His resolve dwindling with every day he wasn’t summoned back. His mind beginning to doubt that he ever would be together with his person again. Tears slipped down his temple as coma pulled him deep into its grasps, the fingers of his brothers and sister entwined with his, trying to pull him back to their world.
Coma didn’t save him from the anguish of every cell in his body, it just robbed him of all the distractions of the waking world. It took his hope.
And in the end, he couldn’t help but let go.
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“A-Jiu!” Luo Binghe looks up from scrubbing the floor of the dorms and watches wide eyed as their Sect leader, Lord Yue and his heart run up towards Shizuns house. “A-Jiu, we’ve found a way!”
Other disciples look up from their work or come out of the buildings they’ve been cooped up in and look after the unusually frantic immortal master with shock and curiosity. Some of the more courageous disciples start to follow. Luo Binghe couldn’t help but be pulled along.
He finds Sect leader Yue knocking on Shizuns door, a high, hopeful energy around him. His heart waits a step behind, hands wringing and seemingly blue from cold, even in this mild autumn breeze.
“Shidi, please open up, this Shixiong has finally found a solution!” the knocking and calls remain unanswered and Yue Qingyuan turns towards the disciples.
“Why doesn’t he answer, is he not here?”
“Shizun hasn’t left, Sect leader Yue.” Ning Yingying, Ming Fans heart, answers promptly. “He didn’t feel very well yesterday evening and said to leave him be for today.”
“He didn’t feel- Qingqiu Shidi open this door!” Luo Binghe and the disciples of Qing Jing Peak watch with growing dread as the hope in Sect leader Yues eyes dies and despair seeps in. Shang Qinghua pushes Yue Qinghuan to the side and forces the door open, destroying the seals on the door like only a heart could. They enter the small house and Binghe hesitates a moment, before his gaze meets Ning Yingyings and Ming Fans and all three of them follow.
They find the Sect leader murmuring a prayer of denials as he holds on to the cool, unmoving form of their Shizun and his silent heart kneeling before them, caressing Shizuns face with tears streaming down his cheeks. Shizun isn’t breathing, his usually cold and sharp features soft and relaxed in death. Binghe can’t remember ever seeing the man that peaceful. Nothing like the suffering grimace of death he remembers from his mothers face.
“We’re too late.” Shang Shixiong murmurs, voice choking on guilt and despair.
“Again.” Yue Qingyuan chokes out between his sobs.
And then, the disciples of Qing Jing mountain Peak witness as the heart of their Sect leader breaks. The sound of a sharp crack fills the room and their chests with terror, as a fracture seems to run through Shang Qinghua from the side of his neck down to his hip. Sect leader Yue tries to reach out to his heart, eyes wide with shock and agony, but his arm falls short as his heart fades away and life leaves him.
Ming Fan holds his own heart close, as they turn their back on this gruesome scene, tears streaming down their faces as they stumble away, bringing the news to the other disciples waiting outside. It would spread fast to the other Peak Lords.
Luo Binghe watches, the empty space in his chest growing and asks himself, if not having a heart is so bad after all.
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The End