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Chapter Text

Liu Qingge woke up and he wasn’t Liu Qingge anymore. 

Liu Qingge remembered pain, remembered the ice in his veins and the sword in his palm. He remembered those mismatched eyes filling with tears and panic and fear, and that was wrong because those eyes shouldn't be like that. They were supposed to be haughty and proud and warm, not afraid.

Liu Qingge remembered the ice in his veins and the sword in his palm and the blood on his face.

There was so much blood but Liu Qingge didn’t know why it was there and it shouldn’t be there and it wasn’t his blood.

Liu Qingge remembered the blood that wasn’t his and the pain that was and he remembered the Qi deviation that managed to take the love of his love. 

Liu Qingge remembered but then he started to forget and he woke up as Liu Chenglei.

Liu Chenglei wasn’t always Liu Chenglei.

Sometimes he would dream of being someone else.

(Would dream of being with someone else.)

Sometimes he would start to remember a name or two. Would remember jade and lavender brocade and bamboo.

He would remember Qingge when he practiced his sword forms, remembered him with every twist of the blade and stretch of his muscles.

He would remember Qingqiu when he smelled wisps of ink or saw forests of bamboo. 

The smallest sip of tea could make him remember a different drink, a better one. A drink he’d never drunk before. 

The faintest sound of metal on metal made him think of Qingqiu’s blood. 

Liu Chenglei didn’t know why he could remember three people, didn’t know why one of them was comfort-familiar-true while the other was love-jade-terror.

Most importantly, Liu Chenglei didn’t know why he couldn’t keep remembering them. 

He didn’t know why he kept forgetting. 

Lou Xueyan and Liu Feng had decided to take their prodigious son on a trip, a vacation of sorts before their son grew old enough to be sent to Cang Qiong.

(They knew he was ready, they knew he would do well but they also knew that their child was nine. He was only nine and they weren’t in a rush to get him into Cang Qiong so it didn’t matter if they delayed it for a couple of years.)

They’d hoped to show him true battle along the way, keeping him far away from any of the actual fighting of course, to let him know the true meaning of a fight. To let him know what he was signing up for if he continued on his warpath for Bai Zhan. 

(Their little warrior was so adorable with his messy ponytail and his wooden practice sword and his unyielding determination to bulldoze his way into Bai Zhan.)

They hadn’t known they would be working to take down a local tyrant along the way. 

They hadn’t meant to stay in the town for long, they’d only meant to restock and rest up before journeying further south. They hadn’t gone with the intention of destroying the Qiu Family but fate had had other plans. 

They’d overheard whispers while walking the streets, whispers of servants going missing, and corpses of children being pushed into the river. 

They’d overheard whispers of the local tyrant and his son, both piles of rot adorned with gold. 

The wealthy said they were magnanimous, kind, and the embodiment of every virtue a human could possess. They spoke of the Qiu family and their mouths spewed only compliments but their eyes were haunted.

The workers at the Qiu manor said nothing, they just scurried away with dead eyes and pale faces. 

It hadn’t been hard to solve the puzzle that was the Qiu Family. 

It’d been harder to find proof of criminal activity, the Qiu family were cruel but they weren’t idiotic. They’d done nothing that would cause them to lose their heads, no matter how much Lou Xueyan wished she could paint their manor with blood. 

(The abuse of servants and slaves wasn’t an issue, would never be an issue, as long as they were perceived to be lesser creatures.)

They had however botched their taxes and embezzled from government offices. 

It shouldn’t have been enough to warrant their imprisonment, hadn’t been enough before.

But the Liu Family was influential and powerful. Moreover, they were noble in every sense of the word. 

What else was a minor noble family to do? The Liu Family’s words had weight, their name held influence, and they had the power to imprison even imperial ministers! What could a minor noble family do?

The masters of the Qiu Family were imprisoned soon after. 

Xue Yang had been a guard for most of his life. He’s seen people come into power and he’s seen them fall from grace. He’s seen many things in his long life.

He doesn’t remember it all. He’s lived a long life, he couldn't remember it all.

The one thing that remained in perfect clarity was his gege’s corpse.

The local authorities had said it was a suicide. 

The local authorities had been paid off by the Qiu Family.

They’d seen the slitted wrist and ruled it a suicide.

They hadn’t been willing to acknowledge that his gege’s had been left-handed. They hadn’t been willing to acknowledge that the slit had been on his gege’s left wrist. 

(He’d known that his brother had been killed but why wasn’t anyone doing anything about it?! )

They’d ignored everything, just like his family had ignored his gege’s bruises, limps, and groans. 

(They were poor and the Qiu Family was rich and they were helpless.)

Xue Yang had been a guard for most of his life but he would die a murderer. 

It’d been easy to poison the water. Easy to poison the food as well. 

It’d also been easy to watch his gege’s murderers die. 

It’d been a painful death. 

(It was more than they deserved.)

Xiao Jiu, not yet Shen Qingqiu, had been sold to the Qiu when he was seven. 

He was seven when he told his Qi-ge, seven years older but infinitely more mature to a young Xiao Jiu, to run and cultivate and look back and take him away from hell. 

He’d been seven when he’d told his Qi-ge to run away without him and he’d been seven when he’d had the feeling that he’d be betrayed by his Qi-ge. 

He was nine when he was freed. 

Xiao Jiu didn’t know what to do with that freedom.

Xiao Jiu didn’t know what to do with a lot of things.

Xiao Jiu especially didn’t know what to do about his feelings.

(Feelings because if they were memories, Xiao Jiu would break.)

They came and went, usually triggered by something around him.

Ink would remind him of soft pats on his head, bamboo of warm hugs, and iron of pain.

They all made him feel things and that was bad because then he couldn’t think.

He’d been fine for a whole five minutes when his Qi-ge was gone and then he’d had feelings.

Feelings that told him that his Qi-ge was going to betray him, and that his name wasn’t correct, and that he was dead.

They were all wrong.

(They had to be wrong.)

His Qi-ge was his brother, his older brother. His family. And families don’t betray each other. 

It didn’t matter, it shouldn’t matter, that he didn’t like his name because Xiao Jiu was a slave and slaves don’t get names anyway. 

And since Xiao Jiu was actively doing slave things, he couldn’t possibly be dead.

(It was cold and then he was burning and in pain and then it was blissfully calm.

It felt like dea- No. )

So these feelings had to be wrong. Feelings were always wrong.

(They had to be feelings.)

Like when he got scared when Young Master Qiu locked him in a shed because what if? What if this was the time Qiu Jianluo finally broke him? What if this was the time Qiu Jianluo finally took it too far? 

Xiao Jiu knew there was no reason to be afraid, especially not of beatings. Pain was temporary.  

(He’s seen jiejies and geges who’d been broken, whose masters had taken it too far. It hadn’t just been beatings, Xiao Jiu knew that but nobody around him was willing to tell him what it could’ve been and Xiao Jiu didn’t want to know.)

He’d been afraid anyway.

(He was so scared all the time and he didn’t want to be scared and the beatings hurt but he couldn’t do anything about it so why was he scared. ) 

Xiao Jiu knew irrational feelings couldn’t be trusted so he pushed them down. Ignored them. Turned raging bonfires into paltry ash. 

Xiao Jiu ignored them and kept walking. 

He ignored them for the rest of his life.

Xiao Jiu may not know what he was supposed to do with his freedom, but his Qi-ge had talked about a sect in the mountain, and Xiao Jiu was willing to go to hell for his brother, so a cultivation sect was nothing.

If he spent extra time at villages and towns inquiring after recent deaths, well, that was his personal business. 

Nobody had known anything about his Qi-ge in the villages he visited, not even the brothel ladies and they knew everything.

Xiao Jiu would keep searching though, would keep at it until he found his brother or found his death.

(Xiao Jiu would prefer dying over finding his Qi-ge’s dead body.)

But to do that Xiao Jiu needed money, and begging wasn’t going to be enough.

That was the only reason he decided to pickpocket the person standing in front of a stall of fans. 

But really, it was almost like he was asking to be robbed, what with his luxurious robes, priceless accessories, and kind expressions. 

So it wasn’t even Xiao Jiu’s fault that he decided to rob him.

Xiao Jiu sidled up to his target, making sure his footsteps matched the pace of the people surrounding him. He waited until a semi-large group of people passed by the stall before joining the outer edges of the group.

Then it was simply a matter of misdirection, bumping into his target’s side while slipping his hand under the man’s sleeves to get his money purse. 

It was heavy, filled to the brim with ingots and taels of gold. Everything in that purse was gold. 

Xiao Jiu had never held this much money in his life. He’d never seen this much money in his life. 

His shock at the amount of money was the only reason he didn’t notice his target coming up behind him. 

Shen Anwei hadn’t expected a child to pickpocket him in the middle of nowhere. 

(Shen Anwei was a Near-Ascension cultivator, the only reason he’d noticed the theft. If he’d been even a smidge more distracted, the child would’ve run off with his money.

Shen Anwei really shouldn’t be amused by that fact.) 

Shen Anwei hadn’t known children came in baby bird form.

But could you blame him? The child was tiny, barely coming up to the middle of his thighs, with twig-like limbs and a starved, but pleasant, face. 

Oh but his eyes. His eyes were fiery. They were vibrant and majestic, one the shade of jade and the other the color of lavender. 

They were filled with defiance and intelligence. There was some fear as well, but the sheer boldness in the child’s visage was more overpowering.

It reminded Shen Anwei of his own Shizun, a brilliant artist and tactician in her own right. She’d been strict and unyielding in her beliefs, almost to the point of bullheadedness. 

She’d had those same eyes. 

(Her eyes were sharper, in both shape and demeanor, but the aura they projected was the same. Or at least, would be the same once the child grew into those huge, orb-like eyes.)

What a wonderful Peak Lord she’d been, he’d hoped to match even a tenth of her skill but it wasn’t possible.

(It was a flaw of Qing Jing Peak Lords, to see their predecessors for their accomplishments but never their process. They never considered that their predecessors were anything but perfect, and so when they failed to reach that standard, they crumbled. 

It was a good thing Cang Qiong was a family, and the other peak lords were there to pick up the pieces.)

It seemed possible to him now, when he saw those elven eyes. He could see the child in front of him become great, could see him become the best. 

He could see his potential and he was in a position to cultivate that potential.

Shen Anwei had never been more grateful for his position as the Qing Jing Peak Lord.

Shen Anwei walked up to the mischievous child, patting him lightly on the shoulder to alert him of his presence. 

“Child, you seem to have acquired my money pouch.” said the Peak Lord of Qing Jing. He’d had to duck down to the height of the average coffee table but that was fine.

The child seemed to panic for a moment, before false calm settled over his features. “How do I know it’s yours, mister? I found it on the ground, it could belong to anybody. How do I know you’re not just trying to steal someone else’s hard-earned money?”

Shen Anwei really shouldn’t be finding this to be as hilarious as it was. 

“Mmm. That’s a fair point child, well I guess I’ll have to prove it. If you open the pouch you’ll see that my name, Shen Anwei, is embroidered onto the inside layer. It’s in silver thread, to make it easier to see.”

The name was there, in all its silvery glory.

(Xiao Jiu couldn’t help but think about the gold slipping through his fingers, about the sheer amount of time this money could last him.

He couldn’t help but think about the fact that even the purse itself could feed him for weeks if he rationed out the food.

He couldn’t help but think about the sheer extravagance of embroidering one’s name in silver thread.

The person in front of him didn’t need this money, and it killed Xiao Jiu to know that he’d have to return the pouch.)

Shen Anwei almost let the entire matter go after he saw the sheer despair on the child’s face. 

(The child needed food, and a warm bed, and shelter but that would come later.)

But he couldn’t let it go just yet, not if he wanted to take the child in as his disciple.

“Well, I think that settles it. But I must admit, I find it a bit rude to just leave with the pouch, not after you so graciously found it for me. So how about I make you a deal, you tell me your name and I’ll give you half the money in the pouch. How about I buy lunch as well, to show my gratitude?”

Xiao Jiu didn’t know what to do about the weird adult in front of him.  

He had to know that Xiao Jiu hadn’t just found the purse. He had to know that Xiao Jiu had stolen it but he was still nice.

He was still nice and he was smiling but it wasn’t creepy for once and it was warm like sunshine and made him feel like one of the washerwomen was hugging him again and he didn’t know what to do.

“X-Xiao Jiu.”

“The character for nine?”

“Uh-huh.” Xiao Jiu couldn’t breathe.

Shen Anwei had to deescalate the situation before the child had a panic attack and ran off. 

(He wished his husband was here. His Yunlan was always better at talking to people.)

Shen Anwei infused his voice with a calming tone, the same way he would when he was cultivating with music, willing the boy to steady himself. “How old are you, child?”

“Nine.”

Ah. Shen Anwei thought he was six years old. That was bad.

(The child was malnourished and skittish, had a number for a name, and was covered in bruises from what he could see. His clothing was worn but of good quality, made to be sturdy. The robes were slightly too big for him, pooling around his hands and legs, showing that they were to be worn long term.

The child was probably a slave.

For once in his life Shen Anwei wished he was wrong.)

“Hmm. Well, what do you want to eat, my great benefactor?”

That got a scowl out of the child. “I’m new, I don’t know any good places to eat.”

“Well, the nearest inn is right around the corner, would you like to go there?”

Xiao Jiu assessed the street, looking for deserted areas and shady businesses. 

They were in the middle of a busy market however, in the middle of the day no less. The sellers were the most untrustworthy part of the market and their only crime was overpriced goods.

The two figures walked silently, making for a slightly harmonious image. They would’ve looked like a father and son duo if the child’s clothes were a little bit fancier and if their faces looked just a little bit more alike.

Shen Anwei had made it a point to ask the child questions during their meal, simple ones like the dishes he liked and more complex ones that had to do with the child’s origins.

He hadn’t gotten much from either type of question, and what he did get was noncommittal, but there was some insight into the child. 

The child had been abandoned or orphaned, the particulars didn’t matter when the end result was the same, and worked to the bone at his master’s house. 

The child wasn’t a runaway, a point Xiao Jiu had made sure was clear to his meal ticket.

Lastly, the child was looking for someone, a Qi-ge and that was his in.

Shen Anwei was the Peak Lord of Qing Jing and he had the resources that came with that. “I can help you, child.”

Xiao Jiu didn’t believe him. “How?”

Shen Anwei withdrew his sword, along with a jade token bearing Cang Qiong’s symbol. “This old man might not be the most powerful person, but I do have many connections and I can use them to help you.”

“I-is that, a-are you from the sect in the mountain?”

There was a pleased quirk to Shen Anwei’s lips. “Yes, child.” 

Xiao Jiu had tried to steal from an immortal.

Xiao Jiu had tried to steal from an immortal from Cang Qiong. The sect in the mountains.

(He’d seen them once, when he was an actual child and not almost ten years old, with his Qi-ge. They’d been intimidating and impressive in equal measures.)

Xiao Jiu had tried to steal from an immortal who wasn’t doing anything about said theft but he couldn’t trust that because that was wrong.

Theft was punished, brutally, even when he’d just been hungry and the meat buns were going to be thrown out anyway so why couldn’t he have them.

Theft was always punished, and he couldn’t trust the person in front of him. 

(But something in him was telling him he could trust the person in front of him and that something needed to fuck off because that was the same something that made him pickpocket the immortal in the first place!

The same something that pushed him to make that stupid, impulsive, decision.

Why had he been stupid enough to steal from an immortal?! )

“W-why would you help me?”

“You have great potential child, I have high hopes for you. So how about we make another deal, okay? I’ll help you find your brother and you’ll become my disciple.”

And that was too tempting a deal to refuse. “Deal.”

(Nobody had explained to Shen Anwei that a disciple and an adopted child were not the same thing.)

Zhao Yunlan became a father and he didn’t even know until he went back to their inn that evening. 

Well, okay, his husband had just recruited another disciple and he wasn’t their son but the child was adorable and a man could dream.

(Until anyone said otherwise, the child was their son.

He was their son.

Zhao Yunlan had a son. He had a son with his husband.

A son who was sleeping peacefully in the bed next to them. 

Zhao Yunlan had only had his son for six hours and he’d only known about him for thirty minutes but he would burn down the world for him.) 

“How old is he, my love?”

“He’s nine.”

Oh. Oh. The child was too tiny to be nine, too small and fragile. 

“How did you find him?”

Shen Anwei couldn’t hold back the mirth in his voice. “He tried to pickpocket me.”

Zhao Yunlan was startled into a laugh, quieting down when the child stirred due to the commotion. 

“He’s so young Xiao-Wei, how are you going to handle this?” whispered Zhao Yunlan.

Shen Anwei contemplated for a few moments before answering. “I won’t make him start cultivation so soon, he’ll need to know how to read for that anyway, but there’s no harm in letting him learn the arts. If he wants to, and when he’s capable, I’ll let him start cultivating. Until then, meditation, to calm and soothe his soul.”

“A sound plan. So that’s probably not going to happen.”

Shen Anwei laughed at the joke before he became more somber. “There is something else, however. The child said he wanted to find his brother.”

Zhao Yunlan didn’t understand why his husband seemed anxious, it was a simple request. “Oh?”

Shen Anwei hesitated. “He said his name was Yue Qi.”

Zhao Yunlan suddenly understood and he wished he didn’t. “ It could be a different person.”

“Let’s hope it is.”

Xiao Jiu wasn’t Xiao Jiu anymore.

His Shizun had given him a new name, had given him his name.

Shen Jiu was the youngest disciple of Qing Jing Peak, the youngest disciple in Cang Qiong’s history. 

He’d barely taken a month to learn how to read, progressing through his books like fire through dry wood. He’d taken two weeks to understand the novice cultivation manual and an extra week to finish it. He’d learned the basics of calligraphy, painting, music, and chess in three months, surpassing the beginner's classes in a record-breaking amount of time. 

He was on his way to becoming one of the prodigies of Cang Qiong and on his way to becoming the most annoying shidi on Qing Jing Peak.

The juniors hated and revered him at the same time. 

They hated that he was better than them, hated that they could never seem to even touch his shadow, even when they were all a couple years older than him. They hated him but they couldn’t quite get over their amazement at his achievements. 

The seniors, on the other hand, loved Shen Jiu.

He was generally adorable and he was a hard worker. The fact that he was talented made him a delight to teach. 

(The fact that he was favored made it imperative that they get on his good side.)

So the seniors loved their youngest shidi. Most of the time.

They didn’t care for him when he snuck into the library after curfew to study.

Ma Shuqing was the one who found him, tucked away in a secluded corner of the massive library with nothing but a lamp to keep him warm.

Usually, she would just stroll past the juniors, a single all-nighter never hurt anybody. 

Usually, the child in question only pulled a single all-nighter, not multiple ones in consecutive days. 

Usually, the child in question was at least a teenager and thus perfectly capable of taking care of themselves with minimal help.

Ma Shuqing was so over it.

“Shen-shidi, go to sleep. ”

Shen Jiu absolutely couldn’t hear his Ma-shijie, oh no, he couldn’t hear anything except the sweet sound of victory as he ignored everything and read on. 

“I know you can hear me.”

Aha! Spirit stones could be used to make war fans if the material was strong enough to contain them.

“Shen Jiu. Go. To. Bed.”

There were people who used fans to supplement their fighting style, he knew it!

“That’s it, I’ve had it, you’re going to bed whether you like it or not.”

Shen Jiu was still ignoring his Ma-shiji-

“Shijie! Put me down, no wait I need to finish that book, put me down!”

However, Ma Shuqing was from a military family, the pipsqueak could squirm to his heart’s content but he still wouldn’t escape her iron grip.

“Shijie! Put me down! ”

“Not until you go to sleep. ”

Shen Anwei didn’t know what he had to do to bring that rebellious spark back into his newest’s disciple’s eyes. 

They’d burned so brightly with defiance, intelligence, and wisdom.

The nine-year-old’s eyes had been wise.

They still were wise, older than any child’s eyes should be, but that fire was gone.

Or, at least smothered for the time being. 

But fire cannot be contained with a woolen blanket, and Shen Anwei would get his effervescent disciple back or he would die trying. 

Which was why he was acting like an idiot. 

“Shizun, you can use a war fan. They exist.”

“I don’t think they do, little one.”

“Shizun, I read the book. You wrote the book.”

“Mmm, are you sure? I don’t recall writing such a book. Plus, everyone knows that fans can’t be used in cultivation.”

“Shizun, they can.”

“No.”

“I’m right,” said Shen Jiu, who was getting irritated by the constant rebuttal.

“Are you sure?”

Shen Jiu was right. He knew he was right and he had proof.

But his Shizun wasn’t listening to him, and that was annoying.  

And Shen Jiu couldn’t do anything about it, couldn’t break any rules. Because when Shen Jiu broke rules, he was punished, and what if his Shizun refused to help him find Qi-ge because he couldn’t hold his tongue for more than five minutes?!

But surely, informing his Shizun of erroneous information wasn’t breaking a rule. Surely.

“Shizun, I’m right,” said Shen Qingqiu, climbing up onto a nearby table to make sure he was at eye level with his Shizun. 

Shen Anwei was highly enthused by the adorable image of a baby bird climbing up onto his desk to chirp at him. “I just can’t see how that’s possible.”

“Shizun, I am.”

Shen Anwei could see the buildup of frustration, could see the fire engulfing the blanket.

“It just doesn’t seem very possible, little one.”

Shen Jiu had had enough of this charade. He straightened up with determination lining every muscle of his body and jumped down from the desk before proceeding to walk to his Shizun. 

Shen Jiu grabbed Shen Anwei’s hand, dragging him fruitlessly towards the door. He only made real progress when Shen Awei himself followed his lead.

Shen Jiu took the fastest route to the Great Library, dragging his Shizun along for the ride. 

The passing disciples were just wondering why their Shizun’s son didn’t look anything like him. 

(Shen-shidi was dragging their Shizun around the Peak, not minding anything that got in his way. And their Shizun let him. Shen Jiu was definitely their Shizun’s son, or adopted son if they weren’t related by blood.)

Shen Jiu couldn’t care less about decorum at that point, he was right and he was going to prove it.

Shen Anwei was dragged to the Miscellaneous Weapons section of the Great Library and treated like a common worker. He was directed to retrieve the heavy tome from which Shen Jiu had gotten his information as soon as it was in sight. 

Shen Anwei set the book down on a nearby table, while Shen Jiu climbed up on a chair, standing on his knees so he could reach the book. 

Shen Jiu flipped to the exact page showing the diagram of a war fan. “See! I was right.”

“Hmm, I’m still skeptical. Can you explain some of the words for me?”

“Shizun, stop being obtuse. You wrote this book. Your name is on the cover.”

“This teacher is very old, little one. It’s hard to remember one’s accomplishments at my age. Could this old teacher’s greatest benefactor help me once more?”

Shen Jiu blushed at the reference to the Purse Incident. “Fine.”

“What does ‘the’ mean?”

Shen Jiu huffed in displeasure. “Shizun, now you’re just being insufferable on purpose.”

Shen Anwei continued to express a genial smile on his face, tactically agreeing to the accusation. 

Shen Jiu rolled his eyes. “It’s a definite article that defines the meaning of a noun as one particular thing.”

“Thank you, now can you explain to this old teacher the meaning of the word ‘fan’?”

Shen Jiu could feel the tick in his eye, but he persevered. “A device, typically folded and shaped like a segment of a circle when spread out, that is held in the hand and can be waved to cool the person holding it by causing the air to move.”

“Ahh, excellent definition. Now, one last word. What does ‘war’ mean?”

“SHIZUN, YOU KNOW THIS,” roared Shen Qingqiu. “Stop being annoying! That’s Zhao-laoshifu’s job.”

Shen Anwei let out a small laugh, akin to a spring breeze. “Very well, this teacher acknowledges that he has erred. Jiu’er, you are correct. A fan can be used to display several cultivation techniques. If it’s made from sturdier materials, it can even be used as a pseudo-sword. Now, can the student inform this master why he wishes to know about war fans?”

“I want a battle fan!”

“No.”

“But Shizun!”

Shen Jiu got a normal fan instead. 

(He was a nine-year-old child, Shen Anwei couldn’t just let him have lethal weapons.

Not yet, no, children had to be at least thirteen to be handed their sharp, stabby sticks. And sharp, throwy twigs, and sharp, projectiley stubs.)

Shen Jiu figured out how to hide leaves in the folds of the fan within three minutes of acquiring said fan. He was delighted to find that he could flick them like extremely thin daggers.

His fan was subsequently taken away.

(Shen Jiu’s puppy eyes would not change Shen Anwei’s mind. They would not. )

Shen Jiu got his fan back within a week.

Shang Qinghua did not expect to see an elf child when he was delivering supplies to Qing Jing Peak.

The child had looks that could rival the protagonist, with wide, watery eyes, and sharp features that hinted at future beauty. With the robes of a Qing Jing personal disciple, the child looked like a sprite, ready to fly away at any given moment.

Shang Qinghua had heard about Qing Jing’s newest disciple and he’d been curious about him. There were rumors that he was the illegitimate son of the Qing Jing Peak lord but they looked nothing alike so that theory was quickly dismissed. Well, dismissed by everyone except the Qing Jing students but they were always a weird bunch.

He didn’t remember writing about a disciple who was that young. It was a pity that he was going to die soon. 

The child was adorable, almost in an “I’d like to be above mortal matters but I’m like six and I still need help reaching the top shelf so I can’t do anything about it” kind of way.

It was too bad that the child needed to die. After all, a minor character can’t steal the protagonist’s thunder.

Shang Qinghua didn’t notice Shen Jiu sneaking up behind him, due to his musings about death, destruction, and more death. It was an almost fatal mistake.

(Shen Jiu had been attracted by the crates of books, there were so many of them, and he wanted to know what each one was about.

It wasn’t his fault that the person who knew the most about those crates was also the same person who’d get a heart attack upon seeing his face.) 

“Shixiong?”

Shang Qinghua turned back, expecting to see someone from his own peak when he made eye contact with the sprite-child.

Shang Qinghua was going to die. 

Shang Qinghua knew those eyes, knew that only one person in his entire novel had had those heterochromatic eyes, one being the color of jade while the other was like lilac brocade.

(His Luo Binghe had delighted in tearing out one of those mismatched eyes, had said that his Shizun finally looked normal.

Oh god, this child was going to get his eye gouged out.

This child was going to die. ) 

‘System why is my villain son a child?!’

[To answer Host, humans develop at a slower rate than many of their fellow mammals. The average human is not fully developed until they are in their mid-twenties, therefore Character {Xiao Jiu-Shen Jiu-Shen Qingqiu-Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu} is a child due to him being nine years old.]

‘....System, why is my child villain son here? He’s supposed to be at least 16 when he comes to the sect! This is far too early!’

[Plot Deviation Detected, please stand by Host as we determine its severity.]

Great. Even the system was useless.

Shang Qinghua was struck by the most terrible of thoughts.

What if he had to kill this little boy? What if he had to utterly torture him because of this plot deviation? The story needed a villain, what if he was supposed to make the child in front of him into one?

He’d never survive that, Shen-shibo would flay him alive and the other peak lords would help. But what choice did he have?!

[Plot Deviation detected, Rank: ??????, Strategies: ...Calibrating...]

Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. This was bad. 

[Plot Deviation is within normal parameters, Host. There are no necessary measures that need to be taken.]

Shang Qinghua almost sighed out of relief-

“Are all of these books for us, Shixiong?” continued Shen Jiu, after he’d received no response from the older disciple in front of him.

Sweet dear heavens, his villain son was talking to him. 

“Y-yes, they were ordered by Shen-shibo.” Shang Qinghua was forgetting someth- “Oh! Also, this one is technically your shidi.”

“But you’re older.”

“This shidi comes from An Ding Peak, which is junior to Qing Jing Peak.”

“So it doesn’t matter that you’re older?”

Sweet dear heavens, his villain son was cute. He was pouting! Actually pouting! His villain son pouted when he was confused!

That’s adorable.

[System has taken a photograph of this event, printouts are available for 100 points each.]

‘That’s daylight robbery, System. Why are you so cruel!’

[System informs Host that these printouts will be visible to everyone in World #2761972yfu71126]

‘Oh, never mind then. My smol villain son would kill me if he ever saw them.’

“A-ah, yes. Shixiong.”

“Hmmm, okay. Can you tell me more about the books then?”

“Oh! Sure, so the first crate is full of fictional novels that were recommended by imperial scholars, while the second crate is full of books that are hated by those imperial scholars....”

Shang Qinghua could deal with an adult Shen Qingqiu dying a miserable death, could placate himself with excuses about the real world and the fake one if he had to witness it.

He didn’t think he could deal with it anymore. Not after seeing that child.

That child. Because that’s all Shen Qingqiu was really, a child who’d had to grow up too fast on foundations that were too unsteady, and was it really a wonder that he’d fallen?

Shang Qinghua didn’t want that child to fall, not his child. Because he’d created these characters but only Shen Qingqiu seemed to remind him that they were real people. Maybe not in his world, but they existed and they were real.

A little boy had come up to him today, with bright, excited eyes, asking about their bi-weekly book dropoff. His eye was going to be gouged out, oh god, Shang Qinghua was going to be sick. 

That little boy was going to die a gruesome death, and Shang Qinghua didn’t know if he could prevent it. 

Shang Qinghua wished he hadn’t written that novel.

Qi Qingqi was on babysitting duty and she wasn’t even mad about it, which was weird. 

Well, technically she hadn’t been assigned babysitting duty but she knew what Ma Shuqing meant when she told Qi Qingqi to keep an eye on her newest shidi. 

The baby was adorable and clearly lying when he told her that he was nine years old. 

(He barely reached her waist and Qi Qingqi was very short so there was absolutely no way he was nine.)

The baby also kept sneaking away to the library, which was as adorable as it was futile, considering she'd trapped him in her embrace. 

“Shijie, please put me down.”

“No. However, for future reference, you should refer to me as Shimei.”

“That’ll just boost your ego, Shijie. After all, you’re very old.”

“See child, that is exactly what you shouldn’t say if you want to remain adorable.”

“So that’s exactly what I’m going to say.”

“You’re no fun,” said Qi Qingqi, with a fake pout.

“Neither are you! Put me down, Shijie!” said Shen Jiu with a real pout.

“Never.”

Shen Jiu sighed. “Is there a contest or something between all the shijies?”

“Why are you asking, child?”

“I’m not a child.”

“That’s debatable.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re six. You are nothing but a child.”

“I’m nine!”

“You don’t sound so sure about that.”

“Well, it’s not like I know my birthday for my age to be entirely accurate.”

That was concerning. Qi Qingqi was concerned. “...You don’t know your birthday, little one?”

Shen Jiu knew he fucked up. “Stop calling me that!”

“Answer my question and I will, little one.”

“Answer mine first!”

“Oh? Which question- oh right the competition one. There aren’t any major competitions, or bets, between your shijies as far as I know.”

“Then why do they keep picking me up?! Why do you keep picking me up?!”

“That’s because you’re an adorable little bean and personal space isn’t a concept we’re familiar with when it comes to children.”

“.....fine, but could you put me down already? ”

“Never.” Qi Qingqi was grinning. “Little one.”

Qi Qingqi didn’t realize until she went back to her own peak that the child had never answered her question. 

Shen Jiu would be a lot of fun in the future if he could trick her now.

“...Shijie can we make a deal?”

“It depends on the deal now, doesn’t it.”

“I’ll let you call me little one Shijie-”

“It’s not like you can stop me.”

“-if you can help me find someone.”

Qi Qingqi was intrigued. “I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”

“His name is Yue Qi...”

Yue Qingyuan had expected to see his Xiao Jiu in the Qiu Household. He’d expected to see his Xiao Jiu on the street somewhere if he wasn’t in the Qiu Manor. He’d expected to see his little brother anywhere but in Cang Qiong.

“Qi-ge?”

Shen Jiu had to be mistaken because it couldn’t be possible that his brother was here. It couldn’t be possible because the person in front of him looked powerful.

The person in front of him was wearing clothing fit for a head disciple, a head disciple of Qiong Ding Peak no less, and he had to be powerful and he couldn’t be Qi-ge because that meant that his Qi-ge had betrayed him.

His Qi-ge had left two years ago and the person in front of him was a head disciple which took time. The person in front of him had had time to rescue him but they didn’t so they couldn’t be Qi-ge because that was betrayal.

That was betrayal but families don’t betray each other so that wasn’t his Qi-ge.  

Shen Anwei hadn’t expected the confrontation to happen just months after he’d recruited his disciple. He’d thought he would have more time to settle his disciple into his new life before he breached the topic of his wayward brother. 

He hadn’t expected his child to be a prodigy, hadn’t expected him to learn to read in days and to start to cultivate in weeks. He hadn’t expected the speed through which his little bird was flying through the coursework. 

Shen Anwei hadn’t expected many things and now his disciple was almost having a qi-deviation. 

Shen Anwei quickly turned Shen Jiu towards himself and away from Yue Qingyuan. He pushed soothing qi into She Jiu’s meridians before attempting to speak to him. “Child, calm down. Focus on my voice. Can you hear me?”

Shen Jiu couldn’t breathe and his Qi-ge wasn’t his Qi-ge and he wanted his older brother but he wasn’t there.

Shen Anwei quickly put one of his disciple’s hands on his chest, calming his erratic qi all the while. “Focus on my voice child, match my breathing. You need to be calm, come on, follow me. In for 4 and out for 6, okay? In, 2, 3, 4-”

Shen Jiu couldn’t hear anything and his brother had betrayed him but family doesn’t betray each other so was Qi-ge not his brother anymore?!

“-5, 6, 7, in, 2, 3-”

Shen Jiu wanted a brother though, wanted a family but his family was gone and Qi-ge had betrayed him.

Shen Jiu’s sobs were breaking Shen Anwei’s heart but at least he wasn't on the verge of Qi-deviation. “That’s it, child, breathe with me. Once more, in, 2, 3, 4, out, 2, 3-”

Xiao Jiu was in the infirmary. Xiao Jiu had been hurt. 

Xiao Jiu had been hurt because of Yue Qingyuan and now he was in the infirmary. 

Yue Qingyuan wasn’t technically allowed to go near Xiao Jiu right now, had been expressly forbidden from doing so actually, but he needed to see Xiao Jiu.

Yue Qingyuan needed to see for himself that his Xiao Jiu was fine, needed to even though Mu-shidi had reassured him countless times that Xiao Jiu was alright. 

It’d been hard to sneak into the infirmary, he really wasn’t supposed to go anywhere near Shen Jiu, but somehow Yue Qingyuan slipped through. 

Except Xiao Jiu wasn’t alone. Shang-shidi was there with him.

“Yue-shixiong?! Y-You’re not supposed to be here. You need to leave.”

“I-I just need to see Xia-Shen-shidi. I just need to make sure he’s okay .”

Shang Qinghua was never someone who’d confront anyone head-on, especially not someone who was as powerful as Yue Qingyuan. 

Except his little villain son was sleeping right now and he obviously had to take care of him. You know, for plot reasons. 

(And also maybe because Shen Jiu had grown on him and his fun-size villain was one of the only people who’d cared about Shang Qinghua’s opinions and it was pathetic but the nine-year-old was one of his only friends and he wanted to protect him.

You know, for plot reasons.)

“Shen-shixiong, however, needs to rest. Yue-shixiong, he needs to not be disturbed and you’re not supposed to be here.”

“B-but I just need to-”

“Need to do what, Yue Qi.”

Shen Jiu had woken up and didn’t know what to do. 

His Qi-ge had betrayed him.

“Xiao Jiu!”

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that.”

Shang Qinghua didn’t know what he was supposed to do, he couldn’t just leave his smol son but his smol son had also just woken up and he needed to find Mu-shidi. 

Would setting off an emergency flare be too much? 

Well, it might burn down the building so probably. 

But what else was he supposed to do?!

Shang Qinghua’s decision was made for him when Shen Jiu started to lose control of his qi again. Except now it was running amok outside of his body, instead of staying on the inside.

Shang Qinghua booked it, running as fast as possible to get someone before Shen Jiu qi deviated to death. Or blew something up. 

Probably both.

Yue Qingyuan didn’t notice Shang Qinghua running away, didn’t notice anything but Xiao Jiu’s anger. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. Please Xiao Ji-”

“Don’t.”

“I’m sorry, please, I just needed to-”

“Get out.”

“Please,-”

“Explain yourself, or get out.”

“Please, I c-can’t-”

“Then get out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Then tell me why you didn’t come back!” Shen Jiu could feel a weird pain in his chest as if he’d been punched but with a rock. There was a coppery taste in his mouth, but that wasn’t important at this moment.

“I meant to, I swear I did. I meant to get you back as quickly as I could, but I-I haven’t gotten my sword yet and I wasn’t sure if I could get you back without a sword and I’m sorry.”

Mu Qingfang had arrived and he was not happy to see that the child in his care had nearly been driven back into a qi deviation. “GET OUT.”

Liu Chenglei was going to spar with Shen Jiu, the Qing Jing head disciple. 

It was probably because they were the same age, both thirteen, but it still filled Liu Chenglei with glee because finally.

The older disciples never wanted to spar with him (“You’re just a baby!”) and the younger ones weren’t a challenge anymore (had never been a challenge) and he’d been so bored.

The only thing keeping him from just straight up attacking his shijies and shixiongs was the fact that they never picked up or even held a weapon near him and Liu Chenglei couldn’t attack a disarmed opponent. That would be dishonorable. 

At least now he could spar with someone competent. Even if he was a scholar.

The Qing Jing head disciple was supposed to be the same age as him but he’d joined the sect when he was nine, which was an actual baby, so he must be good. 

And that had to be him, walking gracefully in pale green robes. 

The moment Liu Chenglei saw Shen Jiu was the moment he became Liu Qingge. 

He’d found Qingqiu. Qingqiu was there. His husband was right there.

Liu Qingge had found his Qingqiu but he didn’t have time and Qingqiu was going to die and he needed to warn him and he needed to not forget.

Liu Chenglei forgot anyway. 

The fight began with rapid attacks from both sides, with Shen Jiu using his fan and Liu Chenglei his practice sword. 

Each fighter had only been allowed one weapon. Shen Jiu chose his precious battle fan while Liu Chenglei chose his most trusted practice sword. 

It was a brutal fight, with no clear victor at any point. 

Liu Chenglei rushed ahead to swipe at Shen Jiu’s chest, hoping to finish the fight at last, spinning around to deliver a kick when his attack was brushed away by the hilt of the fan, only for Shen Jiu to jump up in the air and land behind Liu Chenglei, whipping him with gusts of icy wind. 

Liu Chenglei put up qi shields that didn’t do much for the wind but did reflect the small, sharp rocks that had been carried by it. He was closer to Shen Jiu now, close enough that he could run to Shen Jiu’s position without him being able to flip away.

Shen Jiu was forced to parry the heavy strike, the strength of it leaving tingles down his arm even though his fan had faced the brunt of the impact. 

He distracted Liu Chenglei with the fan, adding flares and flairs to divert his attention from Shen Jiu’s other hand.

In that time, Shen Jiu had to take three more blows, each one compromising the integrity of his fan. It paid off however, as Shen Jiu was able to get around fifty leaves under his command, positioning them behind Liu Chenglei just as there was a sword against Shen Jiu’s neck.  

Neither moved, staying in the same position for a few moments, breathing deeply.

Then both moved together, releasing their leaves and withdrawing their sword silently. 

“Draw,” said the referee in a booming voice. 

Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu’s voice was quiet when he spoke, soft but firm. “I’ll beat you next time.”

“I hope you do,” said Peak Lord Liu Qingge, meaning it with every fiber of his being.  

Liu Chenglei and Shen Jiu dreamt of blood, pain, and fire that night. 

Neither remembered anything in the morning.

Qian Anquan had never expected to see his ever-graceful Shixiong fret like an expectant father. 

Really, Shen-shizi was just getting his sword from Wan Jian, not a death sentence. 

Even Zhao-shidi seemed to be more nervous than usual.

It made sense though, they’d practically raised the boy, and Shen-shizi was younger than most of the disciples.

He was also stronger than most of them, and more clear-headed, from what Qian Anquan had seen of him but that didn’t seem to matter to his martial brothers who continued to act like fathers of newly born children. 

Qian Anquan would almost say it was hilarious, but that would be mean.

(Therefore he only thought it was hilarious and decided to bring it up at their next gossip sessi- peak lord meeting.)

Qian Anquan had just been about to mutter perfunctory reassurances when the stringy silhouette of his Shizi came into view. 

Shen Jiu was holding a beautiful sword, with a pure white blade that shimmered in the morning sun. The weapon was as elegant as it was powerful, capable of slicing through iron like it was hot butter. 

Qian Anquan recognized it as one of the more powerful swords they had in the armory. It’d been a finicky one, unwilling to bind to any disciple that had come before it, so he was surprised to see that it had finally picked an owner. 

Shen Anwei was just glad that his disciple had made it out of the armory with little fanfare. “What is the name of the sword, child?”

“Xiu Ya, Shizun. Its name is Xiu Ya,” said Shen Jiu, with a blinding grin.  

It was almost a tradition amongst Cang Qiong’s elite to have a disastrous first night hunt. 

It wouldn’t matter if you were from Bai Zhan or Qian Cao, the first night hunt would always be a ridiculous mess. 

Shen Jiu had hoped he would be exempt from that curse, had done everything in his power to have a successful night hunt. 

Except apparently, he’d forgotten to be born correctly, a fact that would come to haunt him for the rest of his life. 

For once, Shen Jiu wasn’t talking about his unfortunate ex-slave status or his more unfortunate “little shit” status, oh no, Shen Jiu was talking about allergies.

Shen Jiu was a mere half step away from early core formation, held back only by his need to not look like a child at 400, and yet he was still allergic to pollen.

He’d seen it as a blessing, in the beginning, he’d never be affected by sex pollen which seemed to make up a formidable chunk of the world’s flora, but now he realized it for the curse it was. 

The problem could’ve been avoided entirely if Shen Jiu had just chosen another tree to sit under, but nooooo, he had to choose this one. 

He never even saw the Lotus Pine Cone falling, had only felt its impact, like a tiny bludgeon taken to his head. 

Unfortunately, the Lotus Pinecone had a habit of acting like a pollen grenade, showering him with otherwise harmless pollen. 

Normal cultivators would feel slightly sleepy, easily combated with a quick bath and a hot cup of tea. 

Shen Jiu was not a normal cultivator, so he really shouldn’t have expected his body to react normally to anything.

Zhao Yunlan was a good teacher, in rare situations, but even Shen Anwei (Good Teacher™) would’ve found this situation to be hilarious and Zhao Yunaln was only human.  

Zhao Yunlan could see his son try, and fail, to suppress his sneezes, managing only to make them softer and more childlike. 

He took a moment to be amused, it was so rare nowadays to see his child be anything but frigidly calm, before ambling over to try and help. 

Except that’s where it all went to shit. 

You see the Lotus Pinecone was a natural bug repellant, the pollen managing to suffocate most insects upon contact, and the only available bugs for it to repel were the Stygian Spike Beatles. 

The Stygian Spike Beatles, well they weren’t harmless, were easy to kill unless you were the Red Bellied Boulder Snake. 

This particular species of snake was enormously stupid, kept alive solely due to the fact that nothing else wanted to eat the snakes and ingest the various poisons they made a meal out of.

Had the snake used any more than two brain cells at the same time, its main attack would be its venomous fangs, capable of killing even the Mountain Backed Turtle with a singular bite. 

However, the snake was, as previously stated, dangerously stupid and would hurl boulders at its targets until they fled. 

One of which was hurtling at Shen Jiu’s head, who was too busy sneezing to entirely care about his surroundings. 

(Ba- Zhao-laoshifu was here. He was Safe™.)

Shen Jiu must’ve blacked out for a few minutes because the next thing he knew, the snake was dead and he was being held against someone’s chest. 

Shen Jiu tried to open his eyes, squinting to not let any of the blood drip into them, and calmed down once he recognized the person who was holding him. 

“Baba?”

Zhao Yunlan was sooo going to lord this moment over his husband’s head. 

Their child had called him baba first! 

His husband had seen their child’s first steps (“He was nine, those weren’t his first steps!”), had heard his first words (“He was nine!” ), and had seen his first smile (“...I’ll give you that one.”).

Well, none of that mattered because their child had called him ‘baba’ first.

Ha!

“Uh-huh. It’s okay, little one. You’re safe.”

Shen Jiu just cuddled further into the warm embrace. “Qi-Jie’s nickname, Untrue, not little anymore. Tall now.”

“Well, you’re still very young.”

“Nu-uh,” said Shen Jiu, completely disproving his point by whining, “Fourteen. Not young. That’s, that’s old.”

“Oh yeah? So am I just ancient?”

“Pre-prehis-,” Shen Jiu wrinkled his brow trying to remember the word. “Pre- before stories.”

Zhao Yunlan was trying so hard not to laugh. “Prehistoric?”

“That’s the one,” slurred Shen Jiu before closing his eyes and ignoring the world. 

(Baba was here. He was Safe™.)

The rest of the disciples were trying not to break the sound barrier by cooing over their adorable shidi. 

(If only Shen Jiu resembled their Shizun or Zhao-laoshi, the rumors about him being their illegitimate child would have a lot more weight. 

Too bad Shen Jiu had to go and be distinctive with his heterochromatic eyes and angular jaw and squishy adorable face.)

Shen Jiu had had no lasting impact from that night hunt, coming out of it with minimal damage. 

Of course, Shen Jiu couldn’t remember anything about his first night hunt but he’d been told that it was successful. 

(His Shizun had seemed slightly jealous at Zhao-laoshifu but he was probably just mistaken.) 

Liu Chenglei didn’t know if he had teamed up with Shen Jiu or if they were competing against each other. 

All he knew was that they were tied for first place in the Immortal Alliance Conference and Shen Jiu was either helping him kill the monsters or trying to kill-steal the monsters. 

It didn’t matter at the end of the day, the newest prodigies of Cang Qiong were beating the rest of the participants by a comfortable margin, even when they were sharing their kills. 

Wu Yanzi recognized the youngster in green, fighting gracefully with a fan and a sword alongside the grey-clothed cultivator. Those mismatched eyes were distinctive.

He’d meant to take on the child as a disciple, once upon a time. Had meant to, after the child had broken a bit more. 

(Broken children were easier to manipulate after all.)

Sadly, the Qiu Family had been destroyed before he could. It’d been a pity then, he could’ve used an assistant, but the boy was just another target now. 

Wu Yanzi had expected the children to be talented, had expected them to put up a fight. 

He hadn’t expected their sheer power. Oh, their cultivations were extremely high, especially for their age, but that wasn’t what made them terrifying. 

Both teens seemed to know each other to a frightening degree, seamlessly covering for each other in a fight that seemed more like a dance. It was almost like they could read each others’ minds, their movements flowing together with brutal efficiency. 

Wu Yanzi put up a tough fight, he wouldn’t have survived to his age if he hadn’t, but it was a futile effort. 

Cheng Luan took its first life that night. Its first human life. 

Shen Jiu was going to be the bane of Liu Qingge’s existence. 

“You’re folding your clothes incorrectly, the sleeves are supposed to be on the inside .”

The bane of his existence. “Why- and I should not have to ask this but- why are you in my closet?”

“To criticize your laundry skills.” The sarcasm was almost palpable.

Liu Qingge was regretting every decision he had ever made in his life that led him to befriend the infuriating bastard who was still sitting in his closet.

“I’m not even joking Liu-shidi, your skills are atrocious.”

Dear gods above, why was he in love with this prick again?!

Liu Qingge gave up. “End my misery.” 

“That’s my line.”

Liu Qingge paused. “Oh? Are you running away again?”

“No.”

Liu Qingge just raised his eyebrow.

“As you can see I’m hiding. That’s not running away.”

“Being the succeeding disciple isn’t that bad.”

“You have to do paperwork. ”

“You did calligraphy for five hours straight and you complain about paperwork?”

“Calligraphy is fun.”

“It’s really not. What’s your actual complaint?”

“I’m serious about the paperwork thing.” 

“Yeah, I don’t believe you.”

“See this is why I don’t befriend people. You’re nice to them-”

“You’re never nice.”

“-for five minutes and suddenly they think they know you.”

“I do know you, dumbass.”

“If you know me then you know why I don’t want to be the successor.”

“You’re not going to fail them. You’re not going to fail your students and you're not going to fail your Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu huffed. “Untrue, but I also don’t want to scar impressionable students for life, it’s not really a hobby I indulge in, so I’ve decided to just stay away from teaching. That way there’s no chance of me failing or hurting them.”

“You’re a great teacher-”

“Liar.”

“-and the juniors are all either in love with you or in awe of you or some weird mix of both at the same time-”

“That’s slander, Liu-shidi.”

“-and you’ll be an amazing Peak Lord.”

“Well said, Liu-shizi.”

Shen Jiu was fucked. That was his Shizun. He’d found him.

“Jiu’er, please come out of the closet,” said Shen Anwei in a Tired Dad™ voice. 

Shen Jiu came out of the closet.

Shen Jiu then proceeded to throw himself out of the nearest window.

(His Shizun had just said to come out of the closet, he didn’t have any orders to stay there afterward.)

“Shen-shibo, may this shizi ask a question?” said Liu Qingge, breaking the awkward silence that had followed after Shen Jiu defenestrated himself.

“Hmm, does it have anything to do with the whereabouts of this old teacher’s husband?”

“Well, yes actually.”

“Ahh, well, this teacher’s husband happens to be stationed outside your window.”

(Zhao Yunlan was supposed to have a week’s worth of travel left on his itinerary before he’d come back to the sect. 

Fortunately, one of the clients he was supposed to help just had a murderous grandma, not a murderous spirit, so he arrived at Cang Qiong much earlier than expected. 

This fact was unknown to Shen Jiu.)

Shen Qingqiu was pouting in that reserved way of his that didn’t look like a pout to anyone except those closest to him.

Namely, Liu Qingge who was the only one around to witness the Pout.

(He’d seen the pout increase to full-on Puppy Dog Eyes™ once and he’d needed to physically restrain himself from ripping out his heart.)

Liu Qingge was dying.

(He couldn’t kiss Shen Qingqiu, he couldn’t. )

“You’re still upset. It’s been a week.”

“6 days, 19 hours, 26 minutes, and 23 seconds actually.”

“You’re counting,” said Liu Qingge after he let out a defeated sigh.

“Mmm, I’m keeping track of the moment my life was ruined.”

“Alright, spill.”

Shen Qingqiu turned away from his shidi’s piercing stare. “Hmm? What does Liu-shidi mean?”

“Why are you actually against this?”

“I believe I made myself clear, I’m not suited to be a Peak Lord.”

“Both of us know that that’s not true, so tell me why you’re actually against this.”

“I’m not lying! I’m just not going to be a good Peak Lord.”

“You’re better than your martial siblings at literally every aspect of being the Peak Lord of Qing Jing. You’re better than Zheng Jun at chess-”

“That’s child’s play! It’s not that I’m good, it’s just that he sucks.”

“-You’re better than Tang Xinran at literally every instrument-”

“It’s like she’s playing with her foot, of course I’ll sound better.”

“-Your paintings are better than everyone at your peak-”

“They all paint as if they’ve never held a brush before. Again, it’s not that hard to be better than them.”

“-And you’re stronger than them, cultivation wise.”

Shen Qingqiu didn’t know how to explain why he didn’t want to be the next peak lord, didn't know how to explain the terror that seized his mind at that thought. “Barely and it-”

“You’re afraid. Why?”

“It’s-that’s-”

“You can trust me, Qingqiu.”

“I know that but that’s not the poin-”

“Why are you afraid?”

“I’m not- ”

“You are and that’s okay. Tell me when you’re ready. Just- I need you to know that I think you’ll be a great Peak Lord.”

And what was Shen Qingqiu supposed to say to that?

“It’s complicated.”

“Hmm?”

“My reason. For not wanting to be the succeeding disciple. It’s complicated. Do you still want to hear it?”

“Always.”

“I don’t want them to go.”

“Shen-shibo?”

“And Zhao-laoshifu. I don’t want them to go. Qing Jing was the last peak to choose its succeeding disciple, and once that’s decided it’s only a matter of time before the An generation goes into seclusion to cultivate into ascension and I don’t want them to go.” The ‘I don’t want them to leave me’ was left unsaid.

Liu Qingge wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to comfort his friend. That wasn’t what he was expecting. 

He put his arm around his Shixiong’s shoulders, making sure his embrace was firm but not restrictive. 

Liu Qingge started speaking after Shen Qingqiu had relaxed minutely. “It’s not for forever and it’s not a goodbye. The people we care for are never lost to us for long, shixiong.”

Shen Qingqiu rested his head on his shidi’s shoulder. “I know. I still don’t want them to go.”

“You can’t make them stay.”

“I know.”

Shen Qingqiu bathed in the comfort, closing his eyes and leaning further into his shidi. He wouldn’t have to worry about propriety after all, not in their bamboo garden.

Liu Qingge broke the silence that had permeated their secluded bamboo grove. “You’re scared of being alone?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t want them to leave because you’re scared of being alone.”

“I refuse to acknowledge that flawed logic, I’m not scared.”

“Not currently, but the thought scares you. Alone scares you.”

“It does not.”

“Okay.” 

Shen Qingqiu thought that was the end of it, had expected the conversation to end. 

Liu Qingge rarely conformed to Shen Qingqiu’s expectations. “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily though, so just know that you’ll never be alone.”

Liu Qingge was too busy fighting to notice the demon sneaking up behind him.

It was an amateurish mistake, one he’d thought was above him, but nonetheless, it was a mistake he made. 

“BEHIND YOU!” shouted Shen Qingqiu, right before he sent his most powerful energy dart after the demon.

The demon died an agonizing death, his very essence scattering at the force of the energy dart thrust into his heart.

The residual force of the energy dart skimmed harmlessly past Liu Qingge. 

Shen Qingqiu had almost been too late, a few moments more and his energy dart would’ve also hit Liu Qingge.

Liu Qingge turned around just in time to see the demon dissipate, dying a miserable death. He barely paid attention to the dart, what with his focus being on the object of his affections. 

Liu Qingge owed his life to Shen Qingqiu, which was a bit selfish of him considering Shen Qingqiu already had his heart. 

Shen Qingqiu was tackled into a hug by both Liu Qingge and Shang Qinghua. Separately, but still.

(Liu Qingge had been allowed to hug his crush, he wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

Shang Qinghua was just glad that his villain son was learning to destroy death flags before they were planted. He was such a proud papa.

Shen Anwei and Zhao Yunlan had the strangest feeling, as if they were about to enter a custody battle. Which was ridiculous considering murder was always an option. Little Qingqiu was their son.)

Liu Feng didn’t know where he’d gone wrong with his son.

The Liu Family was built upon principles that dictated honor and bravery. Liu Feng had thought his son had embodied those virtues perfectly, but he’d been wrong. 

It’s been years, actual whole years, since his son had even realized that he had a crush on his shixiong and still he’d done nothing.

Well, Liu Feng was done waiting. He’d like to have a son-in-law sometime this century, thank you very much, and if he had to do it himself then he would. 

Everyone in the manor had been prepped for the arrival of his son-in-law, had been given instructions on how to act, what food to make, what to say, etc. 

His baby girl was already proving to be more promising than her useless older brother, her 100th-day celebration had given him the perfect opportunity to invite both his son and future son-in-law to their manor. 

Now all they had to do was wait for the future couple to arrive. 

Shen Qingqiu had been baffled when his Liu-shidi had asked him if he wanted to come to his little sister’s 100th-day celebration. He’d agreed of course, despite his Zhao-laoshifu’s betrayed face.

(“He’s too young to get married, Xiao-Wei!”

“A-Lan, he’s not getting married. They aren’t even courting yet.”

“But little Qinqgiu has no experience with matters of the heart, what if he gets swindled by that Bai Zhan brat?!”

“Liu-shizi has shown himself to be honorable and just, A-Lan. That is not likely to happen, my love.”

“But what if?!”)

He’d instead focused on the gift he was going to be bringing for the celebration itself. 

It took him two entire weeks to finish. 

It would’ve taken him a week and a half if Ma-shijie hadn’t knocked him out in the middle of it.

(Ma Shuqing was on babysitting duty again except she was still babysitting the same person. 

Shen-shidi really should’ve outgrown the need for a babysitter but with his tendency to forgo sleep in favor of his scholarly pursuits, it didn’t seem likely.

So, Ma Shuqing resorted to the tried and true method of just knocking him out at the one-week checkpoint. 

He’d sleep for four days and then sulk but that was fine.)

It was one of his best works, a combination of his calligraphy skills, painting skills, and literary skills. 

From far away, it looked like a common painting, beautiful but ordinary. Upon closer inspection, you would see that the entire thing was a script. 

From each corner, a story was written in beautiful, tiny calligraphy. The overarching plot was the same, told from four different perspectives, leading to a more comprehensive understanding of the story. The narrative itself was full of heartbreak and bravery, of people who persevered and people who failed, a story that encompassed the essence of the human experience. A story that was a tad on the dramatic side, but a good story nonetheless. 

Shen Qingqiu hadn’t been able to decide on a specific artform, therefore he’d created his mutant painting. 

(His Shizun had teared up when he saw it and Shen Qingqiu was starting to learn that that was a good sign.

His Shizun had also immediately sat down to read the entire story with him, despite Shen Qingqiu’s best attempts at running away.

By the end of that ordeal, Shen Qinqgiu was looking forward to never seeing the painting ever again.)

Liu Mingyan liked the pretty colors and the laughter and the smiles around her. 

Everything looked like blobs but some blobs looked prettier than other blobs and Liu Mingyan was being surrounded by the pretty blobs so Liu Mingyan was happy. 

One pretty blob was even letting her hold onto its strings, which was nice. 

The strings were nice and soft and smelled good so it wasn’t her fault that she’d tried to eat them.

The blob didn’t let her eat them but it still kept holding her so that was fine as well.

(Shen Qingqiu really didn’t want to make the baby cry but she was eating his hair and that couldn’t be good for her.

Luckily she stopped, but she still wouldn’t let him give her away and Liu Qingge was just laughing at him so he was useless so he had had to deal with it until she fell asleep.

At least she liked him?)

Liu Qingge didn’t know he could fall deeper in love with his shixiong but it happened and his heart was now acting like a spooked rabbit. 

He’d fallen a little bit deeper when he saw the painting and the sheer effort that went into it.

He’d fallen a little bit deeper when he saw his Shen-shixiong shakily hold his baby sister, afraid to even breathe incorrectly while holding her. 

He’d fallen a little bit deeper when he saw his Shen-shixiong delicately extract his hair from little Mingyan’s mouth, still holding her with utmost care. 

He’d fallen so far at that point that he’d had nowhere else to go. And yet. He fell further. 

Liu Qingge never wanted to stop falling. 

Liu Mingyan’s gege was coming home but that wasn’t important. 

You see, Liu Minyan’s future brother-in-law was also coming with him and that was the exciting bit. 

(Her future brother-in-law didn’t know he was her future brother-in-law but he didn’t need to know yet so he was excused.)

Even her parents agreed with her and her parents were always right so, ha!

“Ahh! You’re here, Welcome! Welcome! You must be tired from the journey, would you like to eat first, or do you want to freshen up?” said Lou Xueyan, focusing completely on Shen Qingqiu and ignoring her actual son.

(Lou Xueyan had had to deal with dozens of angsty, teenage letters from her son, detailing his love for the man in front of her.

Lou Xueyan had hoped her son would listen to her advice and elope with the love of his life already, but nooo, he was waiting. Doing things properly. Like a coward. )

Liu Qingge had known his mother was mad at him. “A-Niang, I’m your son. You remember that, don’t you? That I’m your son?”

“Oh right, you’re here too. Well, freshen up already and help your friend with his luggage. Honestly, letting our guest carry his own bags, people would think we raised you in a woodshed with how horrid your manners are.” Lou Xueyan turned to Shen Qingqiu. “No matter dear, I’ll make sure to teach him properly this time. How about you freshen up and we’ll get some food in you. You’re too thin, my dear, is your peak even feeding you...”

Shen Qinqgiu was so confused.

Liu Mingyan on the other hand knew exactly what was going on. She was a whole five years old, she knew everything. 

(Liu Mingyan had sneaked into her parents’ room when they were discussing their Plans™.) 

She knew exactly what to do to get her brother wedded to her Immortal-gege.

All she needed was some pollen.

(Liu Mingyan wondered why her parents hadn’t considered the pollen trick. Maybe they just didn’t know about it.)

Shen Qingqiu’s allergies were going to be the bane of his existence. 

“Achoo!”

It’s been five minutes. He hasn’t stopped sneezing. 

May the gods protect his soul from the embarrassment that comes from Death by Allergies.

“Qingge?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you gotten any letters from your parents recently?”

“Well, one actually, I haven’t read it yet.” Liu Qingge furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Oh, I asked them for permission to court you.”

“Oh, that’s nic-WHAT?!”

Liu Qingge’s eyes were as wide as saucers.

Shen Qinqgiu had his smuggest grin on his face. “They permitted me to court you. They also gave me multiple stories about your crush on me. So, now all that’s left is asking you. Can I court you, my dear Liu-shidi?”

Liu Qingge couldn’t respond for a few minutes, stuck trying to get his mouth to work. His eyes got wider with each passing moment and his mouth kept opening and closing in an effort to make sound.

“YES. I mean, yes.” Liu Qingge cleared his throat, finally able to speak after an arduous 2 minutes of silence. “Definitely. Wholeheartedly. Withou-stop laughing at me!”

Shen Qingqiu didn’t stop laughing. In fact, he started cackling. Or at least his version of cackling which was audible laughter with a smirk.

Liu Qingge had always wanted to kiss him when he smirked. And now he could.

“Can I kiss you?” said Liu Qingge in a breathless voice.

Shen Qingqiu abruptly stopped laughing. Blood rushed up to his cheeks and up to his neck until it reached his ears, coloring his face with a soft peach hue. His eyes were blown wide, looking both shy and excited at the same time. A tiny nod accompanied his small smile.

Liu Qingge didn’t waste any time, cupping Shen Qingqiu’s face in trembling hands. Both closed their eyes before leaning in gently.

It was a chaste kiss, lips barely touching for a few seconds before separating. 

Shen Qingqiu still thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest by the end of it.  

It was absolutely perfect.

Shen Qinqqiu was painting someone the next time Liu Qingge saw him. 

Liu Qingge walked up to Shen Qingqiu and sat beside him, waiting for his attention. 

The person his Qingqiu was painting seemed familiar. Almost like he’s seen their face before. 

It almost looked like his mother, except the jaw was more square and the forehead was bigger-

“Are you painting me?” said Liu Qingge, in a delighted tone. 

“Mmm.”

Liu Qingge had a million-watt grin on his face. “Is this another one of your gifts, or are you keeping this one?”

“Depends, do you like it?”

“I do, it’s amazing.”

“Then it’s yours.”

Liu Qingge smiled softly at that typical response. “You know, usually, when people draw me the drawing always feels off- ”

“It’s because your jaw is slightly uneven.”

Liu Qingge was taken aback. “Huh?”

“Your jaw, it’s not entirely even. One side of it is slightly lower but your eye on the other side is also slightly bigger so the lopsidedness just evens out. When people paint you they make it even, but the difference is still there.”

Liu Qingge was not pouting. His lips just weren’t listening to him. “....my jaw is uneven?”

“Mmm. Your hair is also slightly pink in certain lights, and your face is actually backwards.”

“Your nose is also upside down entirely, and your teeth are just completely blue,” continued Shen Qingqiu. 

Liu Qingge took a page out of Shen Qingqiu’s book of tricks and made his eyes slightly wider, just the slightest bit glossier, and pushed out his bottom lip in his own version of Puppy Dog Eyes™.

Shen Qingqiu held back his smile, trying to stop himself from any further attempts at teasing. “Do you want to know the actual reason, Liu-shidi?” 

“Mmm.”

“It’s because when you see your face you see the mirror image, but when other people see your face they see it the way it is.”

“You know, that actually makes sense.”

“Of course, the mirror image doesn’t matter when your face is symmetrical, but we can’t expect symmetry from our local warlord now, can we. Not with how often he gets hit in the head.”

Liu Qingge was pouting again.

(He didn’t stop until Shen Qingqiu kissed it better.)

Liu Qingge had always known he lived in a dangerous world. 

He’d loved it when he was young, hell, he still loved it. The thrill of the hunt, the battle lust, the moment that determined whether he got to live another day. He loved it all. He loved the dangerous world he lived in.

He loved the world he lived in until it hurt the people he loved. 

Shen Qingqiu hadn’t woken up yet.

He wasn’t going to wake up for a couple more hours, not with the severity of the injuries he possessed.

There was no lasting damage, his love would heal completely, but that didn’t seem important when his Qinqqiu was hurt.

His Qingqiu was hurt and he hadn’t been able to help, hadn’t even been in the vicinity. 

It was supposed to be a routine expedition, a relatively harmless one for the juniors to gain some experience.

Shen Qingqiu had been chosen to lead the newest batch of students as part of his training as the future Peak Lord. He’d been looking forward to it. 

(Something about needing something from the markets in that area.) 

It’d seemed harmless to everyone.

Shen Qingqiu had come out of the whole ordeal with 6 broken bones, multiple lacerations, multiple bruised ribs, a concussion, and a minor stab wound.

(The juniors he’d been responsible for didn’t even have a scratch on them.

Shen Qingqiu had tossed them behind a force field the moment they were in danger. He’d gotten 3 bruised ribs for his efforts.) 

Shen Qingqiu was sleeping it off, so Liu Qingge decided to guard him while he rested. 

Liu Qingge hadn’t been there to protect him and he’d gotten hurt. Liu Qingge wouldn’t make the same mistake ever again.

Shen Qingqiu’s mouth was dry when he woke up, impeding his efforts to communicate with the lump at the side of his bed. “Qingge?”

Liu Qingge spoke in a soft voice, the voice he only used with his lover. “You’re finally awake, sleepyhead.”

“Don’t remember falling asleep.” Shen Qingqiu yawned “Ma-shijie knocked me out again?”

“No, not this time.” Liu Qingge took a moment to smile at the love of his life. “There was a night hunt. Do you remember it, my love?”

“Night hunt?”

“Mmm.”

“I put the ducklings behind the wall.”

Liu Qingge let out a short laugh. “Yeah, they’re complaining about that.”

“Rude.”

Liu Qingge moved to brush his hand through Shen Qingqiu’s hair, lightly applying pressure across the scalp. “They wanted to help, dearheart.”

Shen Qingqiu leaned into the hand, closing his eyes and settling down before he spoke again. “Then stay behind the wall.”

“They wanted to protect you.”

“No. They get in trouble and I protect them. That’s how it should work.”

“Who’s going to protect you then?”

“Me.”

Liu Qingge knew it was a lost cause to argue with his love. His Qingqiu had made up his mind a long time ago about who was allowed to protect him and he wasn’t going to change it any time soon. The only thing Liu Qingge could do was protect him anyway, so it wasn’t worth the argument at the moment.

They’d have time in the future when Shen Qingqiu was a little less bruised and a little more loved, to discuss it. Liu Qingge had the entirety of his future to convince his shixiong to let him protect him. So he compromised. “Then can you promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“Your life. I want your life.”

Shen Qingqiu was the tiniest bit puzzled. After all, his life was already Qingge’s, didn’t he know this? “It’s yours.”

“Good, it’s mine now so you’re not allowed to lose it. Promise me that you won’t lose it.”

Shen Qingqiu tried to refuse. Tried to refuse because he couldn’t promise that. He couldn’t ensure his survival when he knew how fickle life was.

Shen Qingqiu tried but his head was still hurting and he was falling asleep again so he relented. 

“I promise.”

Shen Qingqiu became the peak lord and the world hadn’t imploded.

He’d almost expected it to.

But it hadn’t and so he’d had to deal with the responsibilities of a peak lord.

Honestly, his ducklings were the smartest stupid people he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing. 

But that didn’t matter right now because he was with his significant other and they weren’t anything but fools in love when they were together. 

Shen Qingqiu was lying on top of Liu Qingge’s chest, head tucked under his chin. His hair had been put into a simple ponytail, lacking the elaborate head crown he usually wore to keep his image. 

They’d stayed like that for most of the evening, simple basking in each other’s presence.

If they hadn’t been cultivators, their various limbs would’ve fallen asleep by now. 

But they were cultivators and they had duties to get to and people who depended upon them but none of that matter at that moment. 

Because at that moment, Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu and Peak Lord Liu Qingge just became fools in love and that’s really all that mattered. 

“Marry me.”

Shen Qingqiu just reached up to kiss Liu Qingge in lieu of a response. He was grinning again, the grin that always got caught on one of his teeth, the grin he only let out when he was truly happy, the crooked one that made Liu Qingge squirm and swoon.

“I would love to.”

Qi Qingqi couldn’t believe that the youngest peak lord in their sect was getting married to the second youngest peak lord. 

She’d seen them grow up! She’d practically raised them with a healthy diet of “Fuck the Patriarchy” and a generous amount of “Be a pirate.”

(It had worked a lot better on her youngest than the older ones but Shen Qingqiu was always special.)

They were still children playing around, eating mud (“Why would we eat mud, Shijie?”), getting into trouble (“Shijie, you chucking us at various attackers is not us getting into trouble. It’s you putting us in trouble.”), playing pranks (“I’m not lying, brown sugar really is just plain sugar and molasses!”), and being little prodigies.

She’d seen all of her martial siblings grow, some were older than others but they were all still her shidis and shimeis no matter the peak hierarchy.

She was the eldest, the one who got them into trouble but also got them out of it. She loved them all like a sister.

But Shen Qingqiu was special.

He was the baby, and he was the only one who understood her.

Understood her general disregard for men, understood her need for drama.

So yes, all her martial siblings were precious to her, but little Qingqiu was quite possibly the only one who was her didi instead of her shidi.

And now he was getting married.

(He was so small when she first saw him and she’d looked away for just a second and he grew up.

He was taller than her now. He’d barely reached her shoulders the first time she saw him and now he was much taller than her.

Her baby brother had grown up.)

“Shijie, you’re scaring me.”

“Shhh, let Shijie hug you for two more minutes.”

“Shijie, it’s been an hour already, I need to get ready.”

“Shhh.”

“You can’t just shush me, shijie we have a schedule.”

“Schedule, shmedule.”

Shen Qingqiu sighed. “Could you at least put me down?”

“Shhh, go to sleep.”

“Shijie you can’t just carry me, put me down.”

“Shijie. I know you can hear me.”

“Shijie.”

“Shijie put me down.”

“Stop petting me!”

“Shijie. Shijie. Shijie. Qi-jie. Jiejie. A-jie.”

“Yes, child.”

“Put me down!”

Sisi hadn’t expected the invite. 

Well, that wasn’t true, she had expected it, she just hadn’t expected it to come from Young Master Liu.

Little Qingqiu was getting married and she’d been invited to the wedding. 

She’d been invited twice. 

The first had been from Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu, and she was so proud of him for that.

It’d been addressed to his grandmother. 

(Oh, how it broke her heart when she’d had to refuse that invitation.

But it was necessary because Sisi ran the Warm Red Pavillion and Peak Lords couldn’t have brothel madams for grandmothers.) 

Sisi didn’t expect Liu Qingge to personally invite her. She didn’t expect a lot of things. 

“It would mean the world to us, to Qingqiu, if Popo could bless our wedding.”

“Is Young Master Liu aware as to who he is currently speaking to?”

“Mmm. Qingqiu’s grandmother.”

“I was a prostitute. I manage the brothel now, does this not bother you?”

“Qingqiu’s grandmother has had a tough life. We would still be honored by your presence at the wedding.”

“Will your family not be against this?! Young master, I am of low birth and have no education to speak of, but even I understand that a prostitute should not be the grandmother of a Peak Lord. Especially when we aren’t even related by blood!”

“But you are his grandmother. Please come to our wedding, Popo.”

Sisi was going to her grandson’s wedding. 

(Little Qingqiu had chosen a wonderfully stubborn husband.)

Shen Qingqiu was married. He’d actually gotten married. 

He’d gotten married and his grandmother had been there.

He’d gotten married and his Shizun and Zhao-laoshifu had come out of seclusion for him and they’d been there.

Shen Qingqiu had gotten married to Liu Qingge and he was happy.

Dear gods above, he hoped it would last.

Shen Qingqiu had always wondered what happened to the Huan Hua head disciple, she’d seemed extremely competent and Qi-shijie had liked her, so it was a surprise to see her in little boy form, digging up the dirt at their initiate trials.

Luo Binghe would be an interesting disciple.

Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu went into the Ling Xi caves together.

Liu Qingge’s husband was going to die and Liu Qingge needed to find him. 

Liu Qingge needed to find him and protect him but there was so much blood around him and his mind was clouded and he couldn’t think.

Oh god, his husband was in danger and Liu Qingge wasn’t protecting him and Liu Qingge was failing and he’d done this before. He should be able to save him this time!

But the blood was all over him and everything smelled like rust and Liu Qingge was losing his consciousness. 

Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu went into the Ling Xi caves together.

Only one of them came out.

Liu Qingge slept alone that night.

Liu Qingge woke up and he wasn’t Liu Qingge anymore. 

Liu Qingge remembered pain, remembered the ice in his veins and the sword in his palm. He remembered those mismatched eyes filling with tears and panic and fear, and that was wrong because those eyes shouldn't be like that. They were supposed to be haughty and proud and warm, not afraid.

Liu Qingge remembered the ice in his veins and the sword in his palm and the blood on his face.

There was so much blood but Liu Qingge didn’t know why it was there and it shouldn’t be there and it wasn’t his blood.

Liu Qingge remembered the blood that wasn’t his and the pain that was and he remembered the Qi deviation that managed to take the love of his love. 

Liu Qingge remembered it all but then he started to forget and he woke up as Liu Chenglei.