Chapter Text
Shen Qiao stared blankly up at the entrance to the gigantic manor in front of him. Though there were no other houses within several miles of its location to compare it to, it still managed to look completely out of place. Naturally, he couldn't see inside, but he imagined it was a fairly good-sized siheyuan-style compound. The only things to suggest it might have been built in modern times were the metal bars that were blocking the way to the main gate. Several exposed wires indicated that the bars could be lowered and raised remotely.
In any case, there was no way this was the right property.
He glanced down at his phone, double-checking the text message that Bian Yanmei had sent him earlier that morning. Nope, this was definitely the correct address. Shen Qiao hummed uncertainly but approached the security system set up just outside the metal bars. There were no buttons for him to press, so he just quietly cleared his throat, asked, “Hello?” and stood awkwardly in front of the camera that peered down at him from one of the walls, waiting for something to happen.
While he waited, Shen Qiao's thoughts wandered. This situation had all started with Shen Qiao's adoptive brother, Yu Ai. Shen Qiao and Yu Ai had always gotten along famously, ever since they were children. Even though they were not blood-related, their adoptive father, Qi Fengge, had raised them as if they were brothers. Shen Qiao could not recall a time where they hadn't been attached at the hip.
Shen Qiao would never have expected that he'd end up near death and homeless because of Yu Ai. The betrayal hurt so much worse because he'd trusted him so deeply. It would never have occurred to him that there was even a possibility that his brother would do something as heinous as poisoning him so that he could steal Shen Qiao's inheritance.
He had been in and out of the hospital for months following the incident, and was laden with debt at this point, with no home to return to and only the clothes on his back to call his own. Shen Qiao would have been looking at a pretty desperate situation if it weren't for Bian Yanmei.
Shen Qiao had met Bian Yanmei by chance while running some errands, and they kept running into each other afterward. They'd instantly gotten along and although Bian Yanmei was younger than him, they'd become close friends. Before the poisoning, they'd often met up for meals together. He was one of the only visitors Shen Qiao had while he was in the hospital, along with Bian Yanmei's boyfriend, Yu Shengyan.
Over breakfast one morning, Shen Qiao had offhandedly mentioned that he'd been kicked out of his apartment and was looking for a place to stay while he recovered. Bian Yanmei had told him that his boss, who lived alone except for a few employees, might not mind sharing his home, under one condition; Shen Qiao would act as the man's muse for his newest novel.
Apparently, this boss of his was a fairly well-known novelist named Yan Wushi. Bian Yanmei had become his assistant several years prior and said that although he was strict, he enjoyed working with him. Shen Qiao knew of Yan Wushi, but only because he'd actually been an old acquaintance of Qi Fengge's. Shen Qiao had never heard of Yan Wushi's works before, but then again, wuxia novels were hardly something he'd choose to read now; he hadn't been interested in them since he was a child.
After about twenty seconds of silence, during which Shen Qiao had been lost in his thoughts, the security system's screen finally turned on. An elderly man stared out at him. “Welcome to Huanyue Manor. Are you Shen Qiao?” the elderly man asked, tone kind.
“Yes,” Shen Qiao replied. “I'm here to meet with Yan Wushi.”
“Ah, yes. Please, step through the gate. Someone will greet you at the second gate and show you in. Yan-zongzhu will meet with you shortly.”
Yan-zongzhu? Shen Qiao thought, puzzled. Shen Qiao had suspected that this man might be a bit eccentric, based on Bian Yanmei's description of him, but the idea of wanting to be called something like 'zongzhu' as an author in the modern age was really...
Shen Qiao shook his head. No matter. He could live with eccentricities. He was graciously being given a place to stay. Nothing else mattered presently and he wouldn't presume to know what this Yan-zongzhu was thinking.
The bars lowered and Shen Qiao pushed open the main gate, letting himself into the first courtyard. He stopped just outside the second gate. A few moments later, a familiar young man popped his head out the red door. His expression transformed into one of surprise.
“Shen Qiao!” Yu Shengyan exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“Bian Yanmei arranged a meeting with Yan...Yan-zongzhu for me,” Shen Qiao explained, feeling a bit more at ease after seeing someone he recognized. “I apologize for startling you.”
“Oh, so you're the one he was talking about,” Yu Shengyan replied. “This should go a lot more smoothly than I'd anticipated, then. Please, follow me to the main manor house. I've made some tea.” Yu Shengyan stepped back and held the door open for him. As he passed by him, Shen Qiao noticed that he was wearing some sort of traditional-style robe instead of the usual hoodie and jeans he was used to seeing him in.
This Yan-zongzhu even has his employees dress the part while they're here, Shen Qiao thought. He seems quite dedicated to this charade.
“Thank you,” Shen Qiao said warmly as Yu Shengyan took the lead.
As they walked through the inner courtyard, Shen Qiao took note of his surroundings. There were two smaller buildings on either side of the courtyard, and Shen Qiao couldn't help but stare at everything in awe as he passed. The architecture was truly impressive, and the trees and flowers that had been planted alongside the path were flourishing.
The large manor house loomed before them at the end of the path, large and imposing. Shen Qiao followed Yu Shengyan inside, past the entrance area, and into a spacious room with a tea table at the center of it. He knelt down on one of the plush cushions and immediately wanted to melt into a pile of goo, finding it infinitely more comfortable than the unforgiving plastic cafeteria chairs he'd become accustomed to as of late. He accepted the filled teacup that Yu Shengyan presented him with and took a sip, willing the warmth to calm his nerves.
“I will go inform Yan-zongzhu that you've arrived,” Yu Shengyan said, giving a crisp, quick bow. He turned on his heel and left the room, ponytail swishing behind him.
Shen Qiao watched him go, a little bewildered now that he was alone. He looked around the room to give himself something to do. Every detail was immaculate. It really did feel like being inside a Qing dynasty manor. Shen Qiao had visited a couple historical compounds when he was a child for school trips, and once as an adult during vacation, alongside Yu Ai and Qi Fengge. That last memory caused a melancholic ache to settle just under his ribs, and he rubbed at his chest.
Before he could dwell on it further, a man in elegant black robes swept into the room, hands folded carelessly behind his back. Shen Qiao blinked. Looking at him, Shen Qiao would almost believe that he had indeed stepped into a wuxia novel.
Yan Wushi was tall, with long, flowing black hair that was loosely tied back at the temples. His build was quite a bit more muscular than Shen Qiao's, and he carried himself with an arrogant confidence that would probably either unnerve or irritate anyone who wasn't as agreeable as Shen Qiao. His face was stern but handsome, with strong brows over dark eyes that were completely unreadable at the moment. The few streaks of white in his hair and vague wrinkles around the corners of his eyes were the only features that belied his age.
This man cannot be in his mid-forties, Shen Qiao thought, feeling oddly wronged.
“You must be Shen Qiao,” Yan Wushi said. Even his voice was intense. It felt like he was already probing Shen Qiao for weaknesses. “Qi Fengge's kid, hmm? Bian Yanmei told me you were coming.”
“Yes,” Shen Qiao replied, setting down his teacup and rising to offer Yan Wushi a proper bow. “It's nice to meet you, Yan-zongzhu. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” It couldn't hurt to play along.
Yan Wushi hummed and studied him for a moment, not returning the bow. Shen Qiao stood there rigidly, unsure of what he should do now. “Well, don't just stand there like a statue,” Yan Wushi said, lips quirking. “Sit down, finish your tea.”
Shen Qiao did as he was told. The atmosphere seemed to have lost some of the tension it had held a few moments ago, and he watched as Yan Wushi flicked his sleeves out and sat down across from him. Yu Shengyan immediately emerged, carrying a teapot and an additional teacup, which he set in front of Yan Wushi.
Yan Wushi grabbed the teacup and squinted into it, scowling. “Yu Shengyan,” he barked, and the young man who had been trying to make his retreat froze mid-step. Yan Wushi held the cup out. “There are still tea stains in this cup. Haven't I already reminded you, more than once, to wash them properly?”
Yu Shengyan hurried back over and took the cup from him, bowing in apology. “I'm sorry, Shizun,” he said. “Please forgive this disciple. I will go fetch you a different cup.”
Yan Wushi grunted. “Hmm.”
Shen Qiao took another sip of his tea. He recalled Bian Yanmei mentioning that Yan Wushi had mysophobia. It was one of the few things he'd warned him about beforehand. “You don't strike me as a messy person, so I doubt it will be a problem,” Bian Yanmei had said. “It's just something to keep in mind.”
Shen Qiao wasn't the sort to judge people before he got to know them, but he was already forming the opinion that Yan Wushi would be a bit of a difficult person to deal with, considering all that he knew about him so far. Again, though, he desperately needed a place to stay, so Shen Qiao was determined not to offend him if he could avoid it.
When he looked up again, Yan Wushi was watching him intently, and Shen Qiao barely stopped himself from sucking in a breath and choking on his tea. “So why would Qi Fengge's beloved son be looking for a place to stay all of the sudden?” Yan Wushi scoffed. “I would've thought that the old man would have left you with everything you'd ever need.”
Shen Qiao could tell that Yan Wushi was hoping he would tell him a sob story. Whether it was to ridicule him or for some sort of blackmail, Shen Qiao wasn't sure, but he decided not to give him the satisfaction either way. “The estate was left to my brother, Yu Ai,” he replied, keeping his tone even. “I am not well enough to manage it at the present time.”
“Surely your brother wouldn't kick you out if you were ill,” Yan Wushi said, eyes narrowing a little. “Why would you move in with a complete stranger rather than stay with family?”
Shen Qiao could tell that he wouldn't be able to get by with such a vague explanation, so he begrudgingly chose a few of the less harmful facts to tell Yan Wushi. Hopefully he wouldn't continue to pry for the full story. “Yu Ai and I had a bit of a disagreement before I fell ill,” Shen Qiao said. “We haven't been in contact for months. I'm sure he's been very busy and I don't blame him for it; the responsibility of managing our father's estate all on his own must be a heavy one.”
Yan Wushi continued to stare at him, assessing, until Yu Shengyan returned with a cup that was hopefully scourged enough for his tastes. He finally looked away and scrutinized the cup, apparently deciding it was adequately cleaned, and then poured himself some tea.
Shen Qiao took the opportunity to change the subject. “Bian Yanmei told me that you write wuxia novels,” he began. He offered a tentative smile. “I used to be quite fond of them when I was younger. If it's not too untoward, may I ask how you came to be interested in that specific genre?”
“No particular reason,” Yan Wushi said, waving a hand in dismissal. “Modern novels are too boring to write, and historical fiction attracts more readers anyways.”
It can't possibly be that simple, Shen Qiao thought. You don't just live in a Qing dynasty-style mansion and have all your staff dress like they're straight out of one of your novels if it's that simple.
But then again, with Yan Wushi's personality, it could very well be that simple. While he did seem to be a calculating person in general, he also seemed to be the sort to do things just for amusement's sake. Shen Qiao didn't know what to think, but he decided it probably wasn't important either way. They'd be living on the same property, not becoming best friends.
“Well, enough small talk,” Yan Wushi replied, clapping his hands together. “I've seen almost all I need to see. There's just one more thing I need from you and then we can discuss the housing agreement.”
Shen Qiao's lips parted a little in surprise. Just like that? But he wasn't about to question his good fortune. “Thank you, Yan-zongzhu. Forgive me for my rudeness, but may I ask what else you needed from me?”
Yan Wushi gave him a mischievous smile, eyes glinting. “I need you out of those clothes.”
“...”
“No, no, no,” Yu Shengyan sighed, grabbing Shen Qiao's hands to stop him. “Not like that. This fastens here, see?”
Shen Qiao felt a bit like a doll, being dressed up like this. “Apologies,” he offered softly. “I've never worn this sort of clothing before.”
“It's fine,” Yu Shengyan replied, efficiently straightening Shen Qiao's robes. They were soft and elegant, a light blue-green color with intricate designs throughout. Shen Qiao had never worn this many layers in his life. “You'll get used to it quickly. The hair is the tricky part.”
“Ah. Do I need to put my hair up, too?” Shen Qiao asked.
“Yes,” Yu Shengyan confirmed. “Be glad that you've kept your hair long, otherwise you'd have to wear a wig, and those things get itchy after a while.”
“Yan-zongzhu is really very dedicated to this, isn't he?” Shen Qiao wondered aloud. “Don't you feel a bit strange, being made to wear these clothes?”
“Nah, it's fun! I basically get to cosplay for a living,” Yu Shengyan replied. “Shizun may be a little harsh at times, but he treats all of us very well.”
“Does he ever break character?” Shen Qiao asked. Surely it must get exhausting after awhile, pretending to be a sect leader out of some fictional novel in the pursuit of...authenticity?
“Nope, not that I've seen. He willingly acknowledges that he lives in the modern era, and he has a smartphone that he rarely uses, but that's about it.” Yu Shengyan finished fastening Shen Qiao's outermost robe for him and grabbed a hairbrush off a nearby table. “I'm not even certain that it's a character he's playing at this point, it might just be how he normally is. At the very least, when Bian Yanmei and I came to work for him, he was already living like this.”
Qi Fengge had only mentioned Yan Wushi once that Shen Qiao could remember. He had been a young child at the time and had found one of Qi Fengge's university photos. Being curious, he'd asked about each person in the photograph. When they'd reached Yan Wushi, Qi Fengge had simply said that Yan Wushi was 'an old rival', but he'd never said anything about him acting like this. Shen Qiao didn't have a clear memory of that photograph, so he wasn't sure if Yan Wushi had been dressed in traditional robes then or not.
Yu Shengyan put his hair up with more finesse than Shen Qiao thought he'd ever personally been capable of. “There you go!” he said, placing his hairpiece on with a flourish. He stepped back to take a look and nodded approvingly. “You look great in this sort of thing, it really suits you. I think you'll be just what Shizun has been looking for.”
“Oh,” Shen Qiao replied, giving him a genuine smile. “Thank you for your assistance, Yu Shengyan.” He stood, feeling awkward moving around in such long robes. His head felt heavy with the added weight of the hairpiece, too. It wasn't uncomfortable, per se, just odd. “Should I go back to the tea room, or...?”
“Shizun is playing weiqi by himself out in the pavilion on the eastern side of the inner courtyard,” Yu Shengyan replied. “I'll take you to him.”
Yan Wushi's odd traits continued to pile up, but Shen Qiao simply nodded. He followed Yu Shengyan out to the pavilion. Just as he'd said, Yan Wushi was seated at a table, playing weiqi. Shen Qiao felt a bit nostalgic looking at the board; Qi Fengge had also been fond of the game and had taught both his sons to play when they were young. Without thinking, Shen Qiao took one of the unused pieces and laid it on the board.
Yan Wushi looked up at him in surprise, and then returned his gaze to the board to study his play. “Not bad,” he replied, sounding almost...curious. “Did Qi Fengge teach you?”
Shen Qiao nodded. Yan Wushi sighed and pushed himself back from the table. “Alright, let's have a good look at you.”
Shen Qiao stood there awkwardly as Yan Wushi gave him a once over, then a twice over. He let him grab his chin and turn his head from side to side, and then spun around in a slow circle when he was asked, although it felt a bit silly to do so. Yan Wushi made a couple noises of consideration.
“Alright, you'll do,” Yan Wushi said finally, turning back to his weiqi board. “Yu Shengyan will explain the contract to you. You can move in tomorrow, or...” he paused. “How much are you bringing with you?”
“Uh,” Shen Qiao began, unsure of how to tell him that the small backpack he'd come in with was all he currently owned.
“If it's not a lot, you can move in today,” Yan Wushi continued before he could explain, placing another piece on his board. There was a brief pause before Yan Wushi quirked an eyebrow at him. “Well? Was there something else?”
“N-no,” Shen Qiao stammered, still recovering from the mental whiplash of this whole conversation. He gave Yan Wushi a quick bow. “Thank you for your kindness, Yan-zongzhu.”
“So, it went well?” Bian Yanmei asked. Shen Qiao had called him to let him know that he now had someplace to live. He was currently at the grocery store, using his last bit of money to get some necessities to stock his fridge and cupboards with. To Shen Qiao's relief, Huanyue Manor did actually have electricity and wi-fi. He'd begun to have his doubts, with all the staff seemingly being required to participate in Yan Wushi's unusual lifestyle.
“I think so,” Shen Qiao replied hesitantly. “I meant to ask Yu Shengyan earlier but I forgot; will Yan-zongzhu be angry if I don't always wear the robes? I didn't see anything about it in the contract he had me sign.”
“No,” Bian Yanmei replied. “I've already discussed it with him; since you're still recovering, it would be better for you to wear what you're most comfortable in, at least for the time being. You'll only need to wear your robes if he tells you to. He won't act differently if you wear modern clothes around. He's honestly a lot more laid-back than he seems.” He cleared his throat. “Although, I should warn you. He really does not like having unexpected guests on his property. So...make sure you give him a heads up if you decide to bring someone home.”
“That...won't be happening,” Shen Qiao replied, laughing a rueful little laugh. The only friends he had outside of Bian Yanmei and Yu Shengyan were Bai Rong and Zhao Chiying, who had recently become a couple. Shen Qiao wasn't interested in casual encounters, either, and even if he were, his drive had dropped significantly with the constant stress of Yu Ai's betrayal weighing heavily on his heart and mind. “Don't worry.”
Shen Qiao bid him farewell and headed to the checkout, his heart feeling a bit lighter than it had been over the last few months. The bitter pain of the whole Yu Ai situation still lingered, but at least he wouldn't have to worry about where he'd lay his head at night. It was more than enough for now.