Chapter Text
Winter was soon approaching. The days have gotten colder and the leaves from the trees have nearly fallen. No longer was there the soft breeze that carried the leaves, and no longer were there shades of pretty reds, oranges, and yellows to admire during the day. The Haitang trees nearby had lost their pink blooms. Today looked gloomy, except for the sky which would later hold its beautiful hues and ombre as the sun settled down.
The view could be seen from where Shen Qiao sat comfortably within the manor of Huanyue Sect in his and Yan Wushi’s bedchambers. The humble priest sat by the window since the late afternoon reading a novel he finally had time to immerse himself in. He had brought it from a vendor in the marketplace he and his spouse visited for a small while some time ago.
He would patiently wait for him to come back as he knew that it wouldn’t take more than a day’s worth as Yan Wushi promised. He promised him he would be back before the sun went down. Knowing his husband, Shen Qiao predicted that he would be back before then once he remembered the soured expression of displeasure when a frantic knock was heard interrupting their privacy. The older man would have continued to ignore it or bark out a “leave” if the Daoist hadn’t convinced him to answer.
Currently, he sat alone by the opened window with a small quilt laid across his lap and a lengthy book as entertainment. Letting out a sigh, the younger man set his book down, thumb in between the closed pages before looking out at the terrain in front of him. The sky was just beginning to become darker, once a light baby blue to a fiery ombre of saturated yellows and reds with hints of pink squeezed in.
Somehow , the trees, despite missing their leaves, became more beautiful, Shen Qiao thought.
There came a slight breeze which made the immortal pull up the quilt further up his body to keep himself from shivering. He could’ve used his qi to warm his body, but that would’ve been a waste in his opinion as it wasn’t beyond freezing.
Soon enough, the priest returned to the contents of his book only stopping when he had noticed the natural light starting to fade. Shen Qiao noted that the scenery before him had become darker than it was before with no sign of Yan Wushi coming back as he said he would. He did not worry much about that, sometimes these missions took longer than expected. It happens more often than most people realize who are not part of a sect.
Shen Qiao decided then that it was time to take a break from reading. He then bookmarked the page before shutting it closed. Pushing the quilt off his body, he sat up from the seat, and began searching for the candle so light could be shown when it became more difficult to see. It was set on the table where Shen Qiao last placed it the night before. He next lit it, the small flame giving warmth as it illuminated the room around him. Just as he was about to set it down somewhere secured, he heard footsteps outside the bedroom due to his fine hearing. Instinctively, he knew it was his lover heading towards the door. However, his footsteps weren’t even like how it usually was. It was slow and some point the movement stopped before moving on.
His stomach dropped just a little, worry filling his heart now. As Shen Qiao stood up from his kneeling position by the desk, the door opened to reveal a staggering tall figure of his husband. Yan Wushi entered the room bringing his hand behind him to close said door.
One thing was a problem that Shen Qiao could already see. He took note of the sect leader’s slightly hunched form, his confidence only a mask he tried to hide his condition with. It seemed like that having a proper posture was too much of an effort to keep up with.
A frown crept on the other’s face.
The other lifted his gaze over Yan Wushi’s face, and his frown that was already present deepened severely. Yan Wushi’s face held a sickly kind of complexion, pale and draught. His lips were moderately parted seemingly to allow more air into his lungs. His amber eyes were dull, and the veins around the sclera were prominent. They held none of the customary mischief he was so used to seeing. Energy was slowly dissipating from his body.
Shen Qiao hurried his way over to his lover, shoving his sleeves and rolling them to allow his hands more freedom. He cupped his husband’s face for a closer look and noticed the perspiration and watery eyes. His pupils looked unfocused as well. He then checked their pulse placing two fingers on the wrist before checking the meridians right after. His heartbeat was beating faster than normal. His meridians were also not as normal, the flow was slow and at certain points there was blockage.
Not wasting more time, Shen Qiao brought Yan Wushi’s arm over his shoulder with the other hand holding on to the waist for support. This was when the demonic sovereign’s conscience became more focused and coherent. Yan Wushi tried to worm his way out of his grasp, but Shen Qiao being even more strong-willed tightened his grip before sending a tight-lipped expression at his stubborn husband.
It was a look of “Stop with this foolishness, or so help me…” kind of look. Yan Wushi stared back as if deciding whether to obey that command to which he reluctantly did. His body slacken admitting a silent defeat allowing the help that was given to him. The two made their short journey towards the bed.
Walking to the bed this happened.
“Ah-Qiao…”, Yan Wushi spoke for the first time. His voice was hoarse as if he hadn’t used it in days.
Probably Dehydration. Shen Qiao thought to himself.
Shen Qiao hushed him before saying,” You are going to rest now. Let this lowly one take care of you. You’ve done enough for today. Just rest…”
His tone was firm signaling no silly argument was on his agenda now. His voice was still as ever soft-spoken, yet his worrying showed through making it sound chipped.
They go to the bed, which then followed with Shen Qiao loosening his grip to let Yan Wushi settle on the bed. He helped remove the clothes had left the undergarments on. He placed his back hand on his forehead. It was too warm. Shen Qiao removed himself from Yan Wushi’s side to get a basin of cold water and a washcloth.
Yan Wushi felt a familiar weight leave the bed and come back. For how long, he wasn’t sure. Time was a twisted concept now, and he would’ve reached out towards that presence if his limbs didn’t feel like it was getting heavier each minute. His vision was blurred, only able to see figures and colors of what he knew them to be. He was delirious.
Suddenly, he felt something wet placed on his forehead and a caress of a gentle hand pushing stranded hair away from his face. The cold was searing to which he tried to turn his head to get rid of it until he had heard Shen Qiao’s voice telling him that it would help lower the fever spike. His eyes felt heavy, and blackness eventually came.
Shen Qiao witnessed his husband pass out from his condition. From the symptoms he kept track of the entire time, he concluded that it could have been a small qi deviation that could easily pass with proper care.
Yet, something seemed amiss. He would question the sect leader tomorrow if his state improved enough that he could be coherent. Today, nothing appeared out of the ordinary nor did it feel like a premonition was set in stone. He was just glad that Yan Wushi came back safe and sound to him albeit a bit ill, but nothing concerning.
Now, he wasn’t so sure the more he thought about it. It was a disastrous feeling that crawled across his spine attaching itself to the back of his mind like a leech.
He shook his head, getting rid of the thought that passed by. He shouldn’t think like that right now. He had someone to nurse back to health, and for now he would deal with it later.
One step at a time , the Daoist priest thought.
Just… One step at a time…
After seeing that Yan Wushi was settled into bed, he went over behind the changing screen stripping him of the robes he wore for the day to his undergarment. He didn’t bother with folding them away, but he arranged it neatly on the backrest of a nearby chair that was nearby he found. He went back to the table where the candle still stood and picked it up leading his way towards the bed setting it down on the nightstand. He blew it out and got inside the covers turning on his side to face the older man. He shimmied closer to him, where fabric met fabric and bodies met, circling his own qi to flow into his husband’s meridians to regulate throughout the night.
Shen Qiao hoped that everything would be fine by tomorrow despite the bad feeling he still had.
Maybe it was just his anxiety and worry merging into overdrive?
Satisfied with that train of thought Shen Qiao let sleep overtake him for the night.