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Shen Qiao hasn’t heard from Yan Wushi. It isn’t weird to have the occasional letter go astray, the few months they’re apart stretch with little contact. But this was longer than normal. It stirs a small voice inside himself that has him wonder what could have possibly happened, if Yan Wushi finally moved on. It’s a small voice he ignores easily, brushing away the emptiness that it brings him at the very thought. 

But the months drag on with Shen Qiao on Xuandu Peak, too busy to stop for long. People send requests for aid, requests for money, small matters he can’t leave to Shiwu yet. The entire time, he hears whispers. 

They’re muttered, the rumors, around the peak where they think Shen Qiao won’t hear about it. That Yan Wushi is gone. That he’s probably in secluded cultivation. That he finally died and they’re trying to cover it up. He forces a placid smile and keeps moving, acting like he can’t hear the whispers. They’re just gossip and he’s heard worse before about Yan Wushi. His image isn’t anything Shen Qiao should worry about. 

He isn’t worried that Yan Wushi is quiet. There’s been times, long gaps where they were both busy. Yan Wushi has used the time to cultivate and find challenges for his boredom. Shen Qiao isn’t pressed about the time. He doesn’t worry for the other’s safety. He simply waits. 

But he waits for a year. It’s a longer year than he’s felt before. There’s been time he’s spent away from people, travelling on his own and aiding whoever he can, but it wasn’t as hard as that year of silence. It’s painful in a way Shen Qiao refuses to voice. He doesn’t need to make people think him weak just for being unable to see somebody he's fond of. 

He feels hollow as he moves, his limbs weary as he trains and shows his disciples sword forms. They’re so very bright in their own ways and leave Shen Qiao satisfied in how they’re learning. But it isn’t enough when he’s alone in his room. He meditates at night as always but sometimes he can only sit on his bed, unable to clear his mind as he wonders. It’s almost impossible some nights to clear his mind and not indulge himself in wondering why Yan Wushi is so quiet and for what?  He stares out the window, pulling the robe Yan Wushi left so long ago with him closer to himself. Every time he indulges these thoughts he isn’t sure if the robe is a comfort or not.

But he refuses to show that to others. If something happened, he would hear about it. If by the end of the year, there is still nothing, he will make sure things are alright.

So the year passes until he leaves Xuandu Peak again. 

He sets out slowly as he winds through the lands around Xuandu. It’s been a long while since he had visited the graves of his martial brothers so he stops there first. He cleans the graves quietly and bows. He doesn’t talk to them and simply sits, observing the incense in the holder quietly until it turns to ash and stops smoking. There’s no keeper and that’s just fine with Shen Qiao.

Then he truly starts travelling. He walks towards Cleansing Moon’s main mansion. It is a well known fact he is a welcome guest at all times but he almost drags his feet as he walks closer. He can’t shake the thought that something is wrong. That he is about to walk into something all too familiar. 

He’s easily spotted by the head butler and is greeted hurriedly. He bows, smiling and leading Shen Qiao into the estate. Shen Qiao smiles gently back, letting himself be guided through the halls as the butler talks about how long it has been. There’s an edge to his voice, something that shows his concerns were well founded. 

Shen Qiao is led to the main bedroom and he says a quiet thank you. The butler is quiet though, placing a hand on the doors before he can slide them open. 

“Master is...unwell these days. He is weak and can barely stay awake long. It is being kept hidden for his safety which is why there was so little talk about his movements.”

It’s a hit to his gut but Shen Qiao leaves his face carefully blank as he nods, opening the doors. 

He expects the worst. That he’ll walk in and Yan Wushi is barely there, a skeleton with skin stretched over it. But he looks no different. He looks as well as he always had around Shen Qiao the last time they had parted. Yan Wushi had left right before winter started, the last week of harvest leaving Shen Qiao less busy as he sends the disciples to help with the surrounding farms. Yan Wushi had taken the time to idle around a little longer before they left to their own sects again after over a month. 

Yan Wushi has the same flush as almost a year ago. Despite the weather turning, he’s almost feverish in the room stocked with wood to keep him warm. He breathes deeply and evenly like when he’s truly exhausted around Shen Qiao. But he never sleeps unless it’s just the two of them. Never alone without a care for his surroundings. It’s scary. What could have possibly brought Yan Wushi to his knees like this for so long? It had only been his ability to hide his heartbeat and cling to life last time that left him comatose for days on end. But this is different. It isn’t something Shen Qiao is sure he knows about.

Shen Qiao walks forward and kneels beside the bed. He takes Yan Wushi’s pulse. He frowns at the chaos of Yan Wushi’s meridians. This is a qi deviation of some kind. A complex one that is long and arduous. It isn’t something he can help with. It is something that only a truly skilled cultivator of the demonic sects could help even out. But who would be able to help him except himself in this situation? Bai Rong might have if Shen Qiao was the one in trouble. But even she knows how to scheme and leave things in her favour, and Guang Lingsan is far from trusted in the slightest. 

“A-Qiao…” Yan Wushi says, opening his eyes. The flash of white and black relieving but also deeply unsettling. 

“Sect Leader Yan got himself into quite the situation.” Shen Qiao says evenly. His hands shake where they hold Yan Wushi’s arm but neither mention it.

“I’m glad I get to see such a pretty face after so long of that old butler.” Yan Wushi stretches lazily, his head looking heavy on his shoulders as it shifts, lolling to one side so he can see Shen Qiao better. “Are you here to visit me or on official business?”

“What happened?”

Yan Wushi gives a heavy, put upon sigh. “Official business then. I was in secluded cultivation but had to pull myself out of it to defend the mansion. Some idiots attacked me as there was a mole that tried to make its move. It damaged my cultivation so I have had to mediate to try and clear my meridians.”

Shen Qiao stands, fixing his robes needlessly for something to do with his shaking hands. Yan Wushi reaches out and tugs at his wrist, a silent question. 

After so long apart, Shen Qiao can’t bring himself to resist as he sits at Yan Wushi’s head. He pushes his head onto Shen Qiao’s lap, rolling with great effort onto his side. He gathers a handful of Shen Qiao’s robes in hand. 

“Go back to sleep.” Shen Qiao says into the silence.

Yan Wushi hums, exhausted after so little time awake. He’s dead weight in no time on Shen Qiao’s lap.

It takes more energy than he would ever admit to to slowly circle his qi and repair minute damage. Yan Wushi is far from weak but the last year of agony is wearing on him. The bags under his eyes show it the easiest despite how often he’s unconscious. There’s a constant angry thrum in his veins that has him sluggish and makes him exhausted easily. Nobody is quite aware of the pain, his tolerance far too high to show something like the chronic burn. But he sleeps and sleeps for so long he can awaken days later barely remembering anything other than Shen Qiao stayed.

Shen Qiao sets up a small make shift office. He sends letters to his martial family and directs them how to go about in his absence. He isn’t leaving Yan Wushi’s side any time soon. It’s a small thing but Yan Wushi is smug at the sight of the Xuandu Peak Leader shirking his duties for him. 

The most Yan Wushi can do is take small walks around the courtyard. There are only a few trusted servants that make the food and do minimal cleaning. Yan Wushi ignores them but Shen Qiao often coordinates money and helps them with menial tasks while waiting for Yan Wushi to wake up. 

The servants help Shen Qiao get an idea as to what really happened. Yan Wushi had only gone into secluded meditation for at most a week. That short amount of time shouldn’t have been much but for somebody with such immense cultivation, it was a lot. He had found a small bottle neck in his cultivation he needed to smooth out. His demonic cultivation is dangerous and unpredictable. The small interruption in casting through something so important threw so much off and then he had to fight to defend the manor.

The servants all praise Yan Wushi but something about how they speak doesn’t feel right to Shen Qiao. Shen Qiao doesn’t react but Yan Wushi wouldn’t risk himself for something like that. He would let things play out and deal with it when he was finished so as to not endanger himself needlessly. He was selfish and didn’t care for commoners even if they did basic things for him like cleaning and cooking. 

It’s what leads Shen Qiao to go into Yan Wushi’s office where the main fighting had happened. It is still trashed, the servants not allowed in without Bian Yanmei or Yu Shengyan around. The desk is overturned and papers were burnt and littered everywhere. Some scrolls were stuck under the bookcase, others seeming to have broken through the paper windows and stuck into the wall after being used as weapons infused with qi. 

The qi that still circles heavily in the air is thick and almost hurts to breathe in. Shen Qiao blinks, staring at a scroll embedded in the wall. 

This isn’t from an attack, it’s from Yan Wushi himself. 

His bottleneck is most likely a corruption in his core he can’t work through. It’s festering like a wound, an infection to his core that affects his qi and leaves him weak, barely able to fend it off except out of pure will alone. He can feel something wrong in the qi still in the air that has him clue into something being wrong. It’s sharp, the residue dangerous, making his mouth dry. It wasn’t as easy to feel when Shen Qiao felt around Yan Wushi’s meridians, the chaos of them making it hard to find anything substantial.

Shen Qiao lets himself think about this, staring at the mess of the office. Of course Yan Wushi wouldn’t have been attacked. Who in their right mind would try? He knew it wasn’t the truth to begin with, the minute Yan Wushi said so. With somebody like Shen Qiao behind him, even if he was weakened in secluded meditation, nobody would risk it unless they really wanted something. Be it leverage or power, fleeting as those things may be if gained by using such underhanded tactics. Yan Wushi is too strong to be able to be snuck up on, few could do it, and they’re all gone. But there has been close calls before so it still isn’t to be ruled out completely for now. 

He leaves the office, going back to the main bedroom the two share. His mind buzzes with the new insight. He isn’t sure how to say this to Yan Wushi but this isn’t something he can ignore. He feels wrong footed, worry gnawing in his gut the more he thinks about it.

Yan Wushi is awake, lounging in a window seat like an over-large cat. He looks over and smiles, waiting for Shen Qiao to come closer.

“I’m guessing A-Qiao figured some things out about what happened to me?”

The question isn’t angry but Shen Qiao almost feels like bristling. He stays lax as he stands beside the window seat, letting Yan Wushi lean his head against his abdomen. He unconsciously brings his hands up and runs it through the loose hair. 

“Sect Leader Yan is very thorough in making sure few people know he is in trouble. Making it seem like somebody else’s fault for your own injuries to your core.”

There’s a bark of a laugh. “A-Qiao should know how easy it is to fool the masses. My servants, who know nothing about cultivation despite working for me for so long, are no exception.” 

Shen Qiao sighs, feeling the urge to roll his eyes. “What can be done?”

Yan Wushi stays quiet for a moment. Shen Qiao almost checks if he fell asleep again. But there’s a small hum, almost a sigh, as Yan Wushi says, “I haven’t been able to look. I found the small corruption in my core a month before I went into seclusion. It was aggravated because Bai Rong fought me trying to defend a hiding spot for her latest toy.”

“She’s not-?”

“Not following in the steps of Sang Xijing. She would like to keep them safe from the martial world is all. I stumbled over it by accident and was curious to see how far she’d go for the girl.”

“And she was able to aggravate the corruption in your core?”

“Yes, she’s gotten much stronger. She’s almost worth engaging in a fight now. You’d easily beat her still, though.”

Shen Qiao doesn’t respond to that dig at Bai Rong, staring out the window into the garden quietly. Yan Wushi doesn’t say anything else either. He becomes heavier against Shen Qiao, truly having fallen asleep this time. 

He picks him up, settling Yan Wushi carefully in bed. Yan Wushi has a habit of clinging in his sleep so Shen Qiao leaves an outer robe for him to hold. Shen Qiao uses the time to drift to the expansive library the mansion holds. There are many fictional texts and trashy romance novels that Yan Wushi would tell him about reading because he was bored waiting for specific things to happen. They are god awful, but Shen Qiao can’t help but find it funny how much Yan Wushi reads them. Thankfully, there’s a large volume of medical texts specific to the Cleansing Moon. They’re long over hiding their sect’s secrets from each other so nobody so much as blinks when Shen Qiao takes some books off the shelves. He takes everything he can carry back to their room. 

He sits beside Yan Wushi in bed, reading through the books carefully. Yan Wushi will shift, mainly to push himself into Shen Qiao’s space, but otherwise there’s little noise or movement. It’s stilted and stifling how quiet it is in the room. The soft snores of Yan Wushi are the only small comfort he has as he reads.

The library has a lot of books so progress is slow. Shen Qiao makes his way through book after book, trying to pick anything out that could be useful. He reads through the night and into the morning. His eyes itch with the effort but he needs to do this. 

He gains some insight into the demonic cultivation that Cleansing Moon uses. They make small corruptions in their core on purpose to overcome it and become stronger. It’s dangerous and shouldn’t be done without supervision. It says something that Yan Wushi was able to make it out of his own corruption recently after having been crowned the strongest in the martial arts world. 

But there isn’t a lot he can make sense of. Nothing that can really help him in the long run that he needs. It leaves him frustrated, sighing as he closes yet another heavy medical text. 

Yan Wushi shifts, sitting up slightly to wiggle into Shen Qiao’s space. He makes himself at home leaning against Shen Qiao’s chest, clinging to the other’s waist happily. Yan Wushi is able to stay awake somewhat more than before, being up long enough to bathe, eat, and sit on the porch of the room for a time, most of which he does on his own with ease. He uses most of this energy to crowd Shen Qiao, saying that he likes the way he’s built as a pillow just for Yan Wushi.

Shen Qiao blushes fiercely, trying to get Yan Wushi off of him after that statement. It leaves Yan Wushi laughing and it has been so long since he heard Yan Wushi laugh that Shen Qiao abandons trying to escape, huffing and crossing his arms. It unlocks something in him, something that had missed the way Yan Wushi was so flippant to everybody but him. That he was the only one that earned the place beside Yan Wushi in his eyes.

Shen Qiao couldn’t begin to describe how hard it was to see Yan Wushi so unresponsive at first. The proud man he is, Shen Qiao felt that Yan Wushi should never be this quiet and still again once this is over.

But the progress is slow. 

They don’t speak much about the slow agony Yan Wushi is in. They spend time meditating together as Shen Qiao tries to realign Yan Wushi’s meridians but it only does so much. They can’t overwork Yan Wushi because the pain will flare, making him unable to move or speak. He can only grit his teeth, close his eyes, and wait for the waves to settle after the disruption. It is a careful balance they are still trying to find.

It leaves him weak and unable to even lift himself upright for days on end. Shen Qiao is quite alright with being the one to help Yan Wushi bathe, help him eat, and walk him around when it’s a worse day. Yan Wushi still insists on walking to the porch himself. But Shen Qiao knows it’s a challenge for somebody as proud as Yan Wushi to stay immobile and helpless like he is. It’s grating and leaves him angry and snappish on more difficult days. 

It’s one of those harder days now. Yan Wushi has made an effort to go to the porch, sitting so he can watch the trees for a time before Shen Qiao is back. He has to leave to help his sect occasionally. Yan Wushi never talks about him not going, not travelling to the close meet up point. He only smiles when Shen Qiao walks back through the manor’s garden, opening his arms to let Shen Qiao sit next to him and talk about what he had to do. 

“A-Qiao is such a good nurse maid for this Venerable One.” Yan Wushi says, leaning against Shen Qiao. He missed Shen Qiao even if it was only a day they were apart, now more than ever. He doesn’t say that but Shen Qiao leans his head against Yan Wushi’s, squeezing his hand lightly.

Soon, Yan Wushi has to make it back to bed though. It’s colder today and he can become feverish easily. 

Yan Wushi all but buckles under his own weight when they stand. Shen Qiao shifts, letting Yan Wushi’s head fall onto his shoulder more easily. They stand still together as Yan Wushi struggles to regain his footing, feeling like his feet are nothing but blocks of wood. There’s a crease of frustration on Yan Wushi’s face, frowning as he’s settled on the bed. 

“Has A-Qiao found anything in my library of use?”

Shen Qiao sighs, shaking his head. “This might be something unique to how you adapted the Cleansing Moon’s martial arts to yourself.”

Yan Wushi doesn’t looked shocked over this. He just smiles placidly as he lays down again. He’s more docile in these moments, only fine with Shen Qiao seeing him so weak. Yan Wushi refuses anything to eat that isn’t hand fed by Shen Qiao himself, refusing to even lift himself up anymore without Shen Qiao there to help him. It is obviously in part to get under Shen Qiao’s skin but he couldn’t help but feel helplessly fond at the childishness of it. 

“Did Sect Master Yan never get to be coddled as a child to want to act like this?” Shen Qiao asks as he settles Yan Wushi down, accepting the clingy way he’s pulled into the bed easily.

Yan Wushi doesn’t answer right away, making a pensive little hum. “My family was rich so I had lots of maids to take care of me.”

“What about your parents?”

“They died when I was 15 but before that handed me off to maids anyways. They were fine.”

Shen Qiao frowns, twining their hands together. Yan Wushi huffs at the action.

“Do you feel sorry for me now A-Qiao?”

“I don’t know who my parents were. I only know that Master raised me from very young after finding me outside of the mountain.”

Yan Wushi hums, lifting their joined hands and kissing Shen Qiao’s. “What’s with the sudden curiosity into my family line? Were you planning on asking their graves for me to take your name?”

Shen Qiao’s face flames, hurriedly saying, “I have no use for marriage. I’m a daoist priest.”

“A-Qiao is still so flustered, maybe I do want that.”

“It would hardly matter as we have done so many things already. There’s no use other than legality.”

“I think I would like to see A-Qiao in red. It would look so nice on you with your eyes.”

“You flatter me, Sect Leader.”

“So cold even when discussing marriage!”

Shen Qiao sits up, carefully pushing away and back to his feet. He messes with the empty tea pot that was used for just water earlier and all but runs away to refill it. Even as he leaves though, he can hear Yan Wushi laughing. 

His condition improves at a turtle’s pace. Yan Wushi can be awake for longer now and walk around easier but it isn’t for long enough. It’s concerning and Shen Qiao reads through anything he can endlessly. The only help is the way that they are able to painfully reconstruct small pathways thrown into disarray by the deviation so long ago. There’s obvious corruption that they can slowly bring down through shared qi channeling but it remains on Yan Wushi to figure out the reason for this particular corruption to be able to right it. 

The qi in the air was stagnant and old. The more Shen Qiao thinks about it, the more convinced he is that this is a corruption that can’t be healed through qi manipulation alone. 

There’s small hints that past sect leaders have dealt with similar issues but nothing concrete. Shen Qiao marks down mentally every single hint and looks into each sect leader afterwards. There’s stories of qi deviations, poisonings, death from battles. But nothing like what was mentioned in personal journals about being sick beforehand. 

The last thing he hasn’t tried is asking about Yan Wushi’s past. 

What it could be is a manifestation of a regret or past mistake in his cultivation. Not when he was ambushed by the five sect leaders or when he almost died fighting Hulugu but before that. It’s an old, festering wound in his spiritual energy that could have been dormant and invisible to Yan Wushi. It could manifest from a betrayal or wound. 

The only thing Yan Wushi might have gotten this from is his childhood, before he became the man he is. When he was still young and went by Xie Ling. 

Shen Qiao sits on the information for the night. Yan Wushi is easily exhausted and is curled up again in Shen Qiao’s lap. He’s planted himself on Shen Qiao’s chest, seemingly already asleep. Shen Qiao lets him sleep on his chest, staring outside idly.

“What did you find out today?” Yan Wushi asks. His voice is gravely like he’s almost asleep.

“Sect Leader should sleep some more tonight.”

Yan Wushi sighs, sitting up. His hair is a little messier than normal, making him look even more exhausted. But his eyes are sharp, staring at Shen Qiao icily. 

“You’ve figured something out. So have I.”

Shen Qiao closes his eyes briefly before meeting his gaze again. “This is an old injury. Something from even before I was born. When you were recovering and would switch between personalities, I wondered what could have caused this. But I never asked what had happened to Xie Ling to make you hate people that were useless to you so much. I won’t now. But I’m sure you understand.”

Yan Wushi’s stare becomes marginally warmer as he sits beside Shen Qiao. He hums, sliding his fingers through Shen Qiao’s. Shen Qiao doesn’t press anything, sliding down the bed farther and leaning against Yan Wushi. 

“My family was well off and well known. But they had struggled with people trying to take their wealth, their status, the ideals they clung to. Somebody was successful.”

Shen Qiao listens quietly. He watches the trees outside the window sway. He can feel Yan Wushi sigh, leaning more heavily against him.

“My parents were killed in front of me. The family that did it has long since been buried under my heel. But at that moment, they had been family friends for a long time. Their son laughed when I cried over my parents. They killed them and then my servant. It was all very dramatic as he thought he would kill me last.”

“But he didn’t.”

“No, I was able to break free. I was spoiled and never did much with martial arts. But I had a basis that was still far more powerful than he could imagine.”

“Did you kill him?”

“I only just managed to escape. I went to another family friend but they sold me out. I had to run within the day because I heard a servant writing a letter for the master. I spent my time training.”

“Did you meet a master?”

“I’m self taught.” Yan Wushi’s smile is just teeth, sharp and dangerous in how they’re shown. “Nobody was powerful enough to help me so I found my own way. I met some old coot that had the scripture that’s the basis for the Cleansing Moon’s cultivation. It was far from what it once was but through me, it is much more powerful than he could ever imagine it to be. He had no disciples, no wife, no children to carry anything on. He entrusted everything to me on a whim of his dying breath.”

Shen Qiao stays quiet for a moment. They stare at the garden, watching Ah-Qiao eating grass lazily. 

“How do you think you can overcome this corruption?” Shen Qiao finally asks quietly.

“I don’t know. Nothing in my past bothers me. I know I was betrayed because humans are greedy and easily swayed by that selfishness and greed.”

“Do you regret never being able to protect your parents?”

Yan Wushi doesn’t answer. He buries himself into Shen Qiao’s chest then and clings like a spoiled and sick child would. Shen Qiao knows that that’s as far as this conversation will go for now. He lets it be. He focuses, instead, on running his hands through Yan Wushi’s hair, gently detangling it with his fingers.

Yan Wushi is asleep when Shen Qiao meets Xie Ling again. 

Shen Qiao had stepped away to bathe, to change his clothes and think about all he was told. He came back around the privacy screen and saw Yan Wushi sitting up, looking lost. Shen Qiao recognized the look for Xie Ling and he couldn’t help but smile slightly. He had missed the open honesty and genuine personality of Xie Ling.

“Pretty brother,” Xie Ling says, sounding almost scared. Shen Qiao frowns. He comes over to sit by the bed. 

Xie Ling clings to Shen Qiao when he’s close enough. He buries himself into Shen Qiao’s chest, shaking and trembling. 

“What’s wrong?” Shen Qiao asks. 

Xie Ling points to a book. It’s a romance novel that’s particularly classless. Yan Wushi had it brought from his library to entertain himself. Shen Qiao furrows his brows, shifting to pick the book up from the table. It’s heavier than he expects. He opens it and feels himself sighing. 

These are old records of the Xie family. There’s meticulous records of death for family members. They’re well kept but worn, like they have been poured over many times. Shen Qiao reads through the pages, flipping as he scans. Yan Wushi is the only one left of the Xie family and he still keeps the records of them so long after they had been recorded. 

Shen Qiao puts the book back where it was. Xie Ling folds over him even more. He uses this opportunity to curl into Shen Qiao, making himself small and burying himself under the covers. 

“Do you miss your family?” Shen Qiao smooths his hand over the visible line of Xie Ling’s shoulder, watching the tenseness fade slightly.

There’s a definite shake of his head.

“Do you wish you could have done more?”

Another head shake.

Shen Qiao hums, staring at the lump on his lap. He stays quiet for a moment. He lets his mind wander as he tries to think why somebody as frivolous as Yan Wushi would keep something like this tucked away. He never needed to keep things, having burnt books when he was done them before. Shen Qiao didn’t want to waste the purchase of books by burning them or throwing them away but Yan Wushi never cared. 

He’s quiet long enough that he almost misses when Xie Ling falls asleep. He sighs, watching the soft lines come about on the sliver of face he can see. Yan Wushi has more grey at his temples now but it’s still the only thing that shows his age. Shen Qiao pushes the hair away, running his hands through it and finger combing it gently. 

He sits there with Yan Wushi in his lap, watching him sleep quietly. There’s been so many times that he’s seen this same image but Yan Wushi looks worn, grey in a sickly sense that nobody but Yan Wushi can fix. It leaves Shen Qiao feeling hopeless, angry, bitter for something to work. It’s a fleeting thought for him as he soon sighs, pushing the feelings away as he is able to realize this isn’t something to be needlessly angry over. 

It’s easier that way, it helps him handle the bouts of Yan Wushi being angry, snapping and biting as defense as it’s all he can do that day. He hates being babied, hates not having energy to even lift his head. Neither mention it when he wakes up in a better mood as both know they don’t need to talk about it. They know what the other feels and thinks so easily. 

Yan Wushi stirs, blinking awake, shifting the blanket away from where it covers his face. He doesn’t move farther than that though, wrapping his arms around Shen Qiao’s waist to hold him easier. 

“The little brat told you,” Yan Wushi says into Shen Qiao’s legs. It isn’t a question.

Shen Qiao hums in response anyways. “Is there a reason you hid your family death records for this long?”

Yan Wushi sighs. “Like you don’t already know.”

Shen Qiao feels a bubble of humourless laughter in his throat that he swallows. “You wanted to keep it as it’s the final thing remaining of your family now.”

“I’m not sentimental.”

“No, you aren’t. But you are spiteful. You needed drive to stay strong. To remind you to never be Xie Ling again. Am I wrong?”

Yan Wushi doesn’t answer but he doesn’t need to.

“This corruption is from your family death records. It’s a reminder of your failure so it kept you in a deadlock without realizing it as it was never an issue for so long.”

“Get me the records.”

Shen Qiao shifts. He takes the records and easily hands them over but the book is heavy from time. Yan Wushi holds it, staring at it disdainfully for a moment before, with a burst of internal force, breaks it over the edge of the bed. It crumples and disintegrates into millions of shreds, indistinguishable to what it could have possibly been other than from the cover. 

The intense show of internal force leaves Yan Wushi collapsing. He shakes from the exertion and Shen Qiao is quick to pull him comfortably under the covers. 

He fusses as Yan Wushi falls unconscious and fusses when the other wakes hours later. There’s no change to Yan Wushi but Shen Qiao doesn’t leave. He stays and is diligent in how he cares for Yan Wushi as he always is. 

Everyday, Shen Qiao channels internal qi into Yan Wushi. They do it in sessions. Now that the physical manifestation is gone, the corruption is starting to bleed. It’s slow and easily hides inside Yan Wushi but Shen Qiao is able to slowly help Yan Wushi meditate. He’s able to give him the qi needed to realign and reinforce his meridians again after so long. 

It takes days and Shen Qiao barely remembers it. It’s so long of the two sitting on the floor, hand in hand together, as they focus on the storm inside Yan Wushi. Most of the time the sessions end when Yan Wushi comes out of their meditation, coughing up bad blood into his hand. Each time he coughs, more blood sprays over the two but Shen Qiao can’t care. He stays and holds Yan Wushi and soothes him until it stops. Then a bath is brought in and Yan Wushi is cleaned and they go to rest until both are able to start again. 

It’s hard because Yan Wushi is fragile and weaker than ever. It’s like when he was first sick, left to stew in silence in his agony. This is a different agony as his meridians are alight. They can repair themselves but are broken down just as fast. 

Shen Qiao is quick to fuss over him like he has been doing for so long. It makes him wonder if he should fake being sick after this, just so Shen Qiao would do these things again without becoming embarrassed. 

Yan Wushi hums as he closes his eyes, feeling Shen Qiao running his hands through his hair. He’s finally able to breathe easier after this session. It has been days of constant work and both are exhausted. Shen Qiao still takes the time to lull Yan Wushi to sleep though. Yan Wushi can’t help but feel greedy. He buries his face into Shen Qiao’s neck, sighing.

It takes another week, but they get there. 

Shen Qiao waits until Yan Wushi walks on his own without becoming out of breath easily before finally breathing out a quiet sigh of relief. He missed the Yan Wushi that was insufferable and hated everybody but Shen Qiao. He missed seeing the proud man he loves. It was hard to see him weak. To be able to practice martial arts with Yan Wushi after so long makes him almost want to cry, in a weird way. 

It isn’t perfect though. Yan Wushi has to take a long time to work back the muscle he lost. He’s only able to do short repetitions of basic exercises that Shen Qiao helps him with. It makes him short tempered but Shen Qiao stays regardless. 

In a month after constant progress, Yan Wushi is finally back to himself. Yan Wushi is arrogant but patient as he works tirelessly to build back everything he lost. 

It takes Shen Qiao by surprise. He doesn’t realize but soon Yan Wushi is beating him again in their light spars. Then his qi is back to its frightening force. Then his body is as strong as it ever was. And soon Shen Qiao is blushing and forced to look away when Yan Wushi smiles at him and it hits him that he’s finally okay. 

The relief is heavy in the air though. Shen Qiao feels lighter, Yan Wushi easier to talk to. Both are happy and able to finally start moving on. 

Shen Qiao smiles slightly, leaning into Yan Wushi’s space. “Hello, Yan-lang.”

“A-Qiao missed me so much, he’s waiting for me like a housewife?”

Shen Qiao huffs. He had been sitting in the garden while Yan Wushi was dealing with the sect he had long left to his two disciples. Turning to stand, he goes to walk off at the comment but he doesn’t get very far. Yan Wushi steps around him, holding his wrists. 

He pouts, a ploy to get Shen Qiao to waver as he says, ”A-Qiao is so mean to me. I was going to give him a gift for helping me the last few months.”

Shen Qiao raises his eyebrows. “And what, Sect Leader Yan, would you have for me?”

Yan Wushi smiles, tilting Shen Qiao’s face with a finger under his chin. His smile is honey sweet with his eyes warm and alive in a way Shen Qiao hasn’t seen in so long. It makes his knees feel weak as he sees it. He can’t stop himself from melting as Yan Wushi kisses him, gently, gently until he pushes against Shen Qiao and they’re pressed down onto the floor. Yan Wushi is heavy on Shen Qiao in a way that feels comfortable and familiar. He lets Yan Wushi slot between his legs, sighing as he tentatively kisses back. His face is on fire as he tries to kiss back, feeling the rumble of Yan Wushi laughing as he easily overwhelms Shen Qiao.

When they break apart, Shen Qiao is flushed and panting and can’t help but whine embarrassingly when they pull away. It makes Yan Wushi’s smile turn darker, less sweet and gentle and more hungry. 

Shen Qiao looks away, unable to meet Yan Wushi’s eyes and he frowns, trying to wriggle out as he hears another laugh.

“A-Qiao is still so shy after everything we’ve done. My A-Qiao is so cute like this under me. Does he not want to hear what his gift is?”

“Yan-lang must not trouble himself with gifts for this one. I am but a poor daoist, I don’t need gifts to begin with.”

Yan Wushi sighs, planting himself more heavily on Shen Qiao so he’s forced to stay still under Yan Wushi. Shen Qiao glares at Yan Wushi who just grins smugly. 

“I think A-Qiao would like this gift. But does he want it outside? Because that would be new for us. I would be willing to try it if-”

Shen Qiao bucks, throwing a weak punch wildly that has Yan Wushi delighted, chuckling as he picks Shen Qiao up easily. 

“Put me down!”

“No, I want to hold my A-Qiao after so long.”

Shen Qiao blinks, grumbling quietly but still letting himself be carried. 

Yan Wushi is fine again. Nothing ever keeps him down, not even himself.