Chapter Text
Memories are repetitive; they are loops. Loops that never end. So are Shen Qiao's nightmares.
He tells his disciples he only has nightmares occasionally. But the truth is, all his nights are soaked by the sweat from his nightmares. Often, he wakes up with a parched mouth, heavy breathing, and a sore heart. Albeit, the worst part is that somehow his nightmares have gotten worse with time.
In the quiet of the night, his mental ghouls stir him up with a barrage of "what ifs" from the past and all the dilemmas of the future, and Shen Qiao finds himself helpless in the midst of them.
As time passed, he became more adept at dealing with his nightmares, tolerating them, and even accepting them, but the nightmare in which Yan Wushi abandoned him for Sang Jingxing remained unconquerable. Today, after having yet another vivid nightmare about the betrayal, his entire existence is stirred up, and he is agitated to the very center of his being. Despite his regular feelings of sadness, he is genuinely in tears right now.
Eyes so young, so full of grief... Two lone drops of winter rain fell from them. As no tear could be retained by these eyes, for far too much had they seen.
As though in response to his own tears, the sky has started to pour — pouring like tears from the sky itself — and Shen Qiao can't go back to sleep; he's too scared of drowning.
Drowning in the past. Drowning in memories.
Shen Qiao is terrified he'll break down. Again.
The more he feels his life is hanging by a thread, the more he is unable to think, observe, assess the reality of things, or share an experience. Perhaps this time he is turning into a rock.
Thunder strikes the earth like God's claps, and Shen Qiao feels the vibration inside his chest. Flashes of lightning strike, illuminating the sky, and soon after, rain begins to fall, and he watches the rain pour relentlessly, wondering whether it will ever wear down his heart the way it does to the rocks.
Shen Qiao stands at the window, staring out at the storm, and feels numb. With the increasing intensity of the rain, he is unable to form coherent thoughts and slowly begins to sink back into his nightmares.
Gently, a drop of rain falls on his cheek, and he brushes it off with his finger.
Some people slipped into his life like this drop of rain and left a whirlwind in their trail, making him doubt love and all that was wonderful in his life. And Shen Qiao is scratched by those he loved and cherished...
Too preoccupied with his own thoughts, Shen Qiao fails to register the arrival of a specific person. His thoughts are wandering when Yan Wushi moves behind him and places a hand on his shoulder, bringing him abruptly back to the present.
Shen Qiao hadn't meant to, but he jerks and instinctively reaches for his sword behind his back for defense. Something about his face must have startled Yan Wushi because he briefly takes a few steps back with his hands up.
“A-Qiao! It is the venerable one.”
“Sect Master Yan?... In case you didn't know, this is my room. What are you doing here uninvited?”
“This venerable one wanted to visit you, A-Qiao; you have nothing to worry about with me. You can put down the sword now.”
Shen Qiao gapes at his words. What exactly is the intended interpretation of that? Is Yan Wushi striving to create the illusion that he has never hurt Shen Qiao?
“No. It's when I'm with Sect Master Yan that I need it the most.” Shen Qiao's hand becomes white as he grips the sword handle fiercely. “Other hurts I can deal with, but the pain you caused —” He takes a deep breath and tries to convince himself that he isn't panicking, but he can't stop thinking about how letting his guard down around Yan Wushi had led to the greatest pain he's ever known.
“What are you saying, A-Qiao?” Yan Wushi even manages to appear so uncertain and wounded that Shen Qiao would even think to feel injured by his touch. “This venerable one wouldn't dream of hurting you.”
Has Yan Wushi forgotten about everything and moved on? But how can Shen Qiao forget all those deceits and backstabbings? From the looks of Yan Wushi's bewildered countenance, it would suggest that he has truly left those memories in the past.
The realization splits open something in Shen Qiao.
“While I can understand your uncertainty,” he retorts, his voice clear and cold, “kindly tell me, am I not breaking loud enough to personify your definition of hurt? Or were you just so intent on showing me the cruelty of the world that you couldn't fathom how traumatized I truly became as a consequence of your eye-opening sequences?”
“A-Qiao, why are you talking like this all of a sudden?” Yan Wushi stares at him, looking serene, and Shen Qiao feels seething waves of rage seep through his bones, a primal, deep-seated anger in him responding to Yan Wushi's words.
Shen Qiao laughs without mirth. “Sudden? No, it is not sudden. I should have stopped having you around me long ago. And what was it that you were trying to do just now? Are you attempting to re-seal my acupuncture points?” With one hand still clutching the sword handle, he takes a step toward Yan Wushi, asking, “Or does the esteemed Sect Master Yan want to play some new game with me that's been devised for me to go through another set of miseries?”
Yan Wushi raises his hand as though in submission, his gaze darting between his face and the sword in his grasp. “You are the most important thing in my life, and it would be foolish of me to cause you any pain.” He sighs. “You can take the word of this venerable one that it will never happen. Never again.” He inches closer and reaches for Shen Qiao’s wrist, trying to caress the hand that is clutching the sword. “Put your faith in this one, will you?”
Shen Qiao is shivering, both physically and emotionally, and it's not just because of the cool evening brought on by the rain.
“Faith?... In case you have forgotten, I had deemed you my friend, but I vividly remember you reminding me that I was nothing to you. You sealed my acupoints, rendering me helpless as you led me to Sang Jingxing and exchanged me to that rapist! For what, a sword you'd never use?”
Yan Wushi at least has the decency to look anxious as his grip on Shen Qiao's wrist falters.
“That same sword, which you brush aside as worthless—” Shen Qiao's voice is full of guilty verdicts. Words fall from his mouth like steel and settle in the small space between them. “Is that all I ever meant to you? ... a pathetic sword you can toss away to rust?”
“A-Qiao,” Yan Wushi tries to speak, slowly beginning to use his charm with words— to calm him, but Shen Qiao is in no mood for his velvety words. He has stored his feelings for so long that once he begins to speak, words don’t stop pouring out of his mouth.
Pouring…like the rain outside of the chamber. Its soft pattering echoing with the roaring thunder in his heart.
“You were well aware that my ethics and Daoist core meant more to me than my own life.” Shen Qiao continues to spit his words full of rage, jabbing the tip of his sword into Yan Wushi's chest, “but YOU planted a demonic core in me... without MY consent.”
Yan Wushi closes his eyes and inhales deeply as if he's in agony, as if Shen Qiao has rendered him unable to breathe air into the lungs.
“Tell me, Yan Gongzhi, did you chuckle when you embedded that demonic core with mine? … Did you go back to your sect and relax, fantasizing how Sang Jingxing would get his way with me? Did you feel remorse for anything?”
As Shen Qiao begins to talk out loud about the infinite list of offenses committed by Yan Wushi, it makes him wonder how many times he has forgiven Yan Wushi just to avoid losing him, even if the person didn't deserve it. Crushed under his emotions, his voice comes out weak and timid. “Do you even have any regrets about doing all those things to me?”
Yan Wushi has his eyes still closed and is looking pathetic in every single way. Shen Qiao lets out a weak laugh that sounds more like a scoff. “Who am I even asking?”
Outside the confines of the chamber, the rain oscillates between light drizzle and heavy downpours, and the sound of it is completely engulfing the area in its chaos.
“Yan Gongzhi, you have managed to win. Your quest to have me lose faith in the world, in people... in humanity. It succeeded.” Shen Qiao’s voice comes out as a whisper, with cordial sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “Do say, Yan Gongzhi, how does this victory taste in your mouth?”
Yan Wushi opens his eyes then and looks at Shen Qiao, his eyes oddly vacant and yet so filled at the same time. Shen Qiao would have hesitated to stab Yan Wushi with his words if the situation were different, but he doesn't care anymore about anything right now. Even though uttering these statements out loud rips his psyche, he does it nonetheless.
“This victory of yours— is it as sweet as you imagined? as satisfying as you had hoped? Are you finally happy that you have blackened my heart? Yan gongzhi, please tell me.”
Shen Qiao tries to breathe as calmly as possible, for he intends to hide his sadness from Yan Wushi, but it is exceptionally hard.
Finally breaking the silence, Yan Wushi speaks, but his words are hesitant, as though he has trouble admitting them.
“No amount of words I say will ever be enough to make up for what I did to you. So much pain has been inflicted upon you that I have no adequate words with which to ask your forgiveness.” Yan Wushi's eyes are eerily empty as he peers at Shen Qiao. “But, A-Qiao, cut me down and crawl inside of me to the place where I am most ruined, and you will find even that part of me loves you... I love you, A-Qiao, and I will always do so.”
“Enough with your lies.” In an effort to silence Yan Wushi, Shen Qiao places the sword around his neck. “You may have deceived everyone. You may have even begun to believe your own lies about loving me, making a fool of yourself. But I am aware of the truth—clearer than ever before. You've repeatedly betrayed me, and now you're telling me that you love me?”
He puts a little force on his blade to threaten Yan Wushi and show him he won't hesitate to injure him if Yan Wushi says anything remotely nasty, as he did in the past. But Yan Wushi does not stop his attempts.
“A-Qiao, I love you more than words can say, and it is the most genuine thing I am capable of saying in this life.”
Shen Qiao scoffs at his words. Despite the increasing pressure from the blade, however, he can only see Yan Wushi's eyes shining and begging to be understood.
This is something Shen Qiao chooses to overlook. Everything that Yan Wushi has done to him and everything that he has endured is piling upon him. Right now, he has no reason to feel anything other than horrified.
“How am I supposed to believe this nonsense? Are you not tired of your vendetta to make me lose faith in the world? You don't need to entice me into your trap of 'love' only to betray me.”
“This venerable one is not lying, and neither is this a trap. A-Qiao, you know that. And I know... you love this venerable one as well.”
“I suppose I did —” Shen Qiao’s heart hurts in his chest at his words, and his grasp on the sword weakens ever so slightly. “Well, I must convey my disdain to the mindset of my past gullible self, for he should've seen the signs of who you truly were.” He presses the blade harder to make up for his earlier hesitation: “Who you TRULY are!”
Even though he can perceive that Yan Wushi's psyche is deeply disturbed by his outburst, Shen Qiao finds no room in his heart to feel sorry for the other. Yan Wushi is required to be told about his emotions, his wounds, and every smidgen of resilience in trusting him again.
“I still have nightmares of the venomous words you lashed at me, intending to poison me beyond recognition. You hurled insults that went all the way to my bone, cutting deeper than you could have imagined.”
“This venerable one has changed his perspective and his heart regarding —” Yan Wushi's voice falters somewhat, and Shen Qiao speaks over him, preventing Yan Wushi from using his potent verbal weapon.
“Now, now. There’s no need to cry out your manipulative words at me. Spare this lowly one from shouldering your precious heart.”
Shen Qiao practically spits his words viciously and is taken aback by how harsh he is being right now, which disturbs him even more. He had never considered himself a person who could ignore the suffering of others, but at the moment he feels like he is nothing more than a ghost of his former self.
Yan Wushi suddenly grasps the edge of the sword, and his hold is so intense that Shen Qiao notices blood trickling from the edge where Yan Wushi is clutching his sword. “These words... they are not an attempt to manipulate you in any way. I love you, and if you don't believe me, then... go ahead.” The blade is nudged ever-so-slightly in the direction of Yan Wushi's chest, pointing directly at his heart.
“Kill me… Dig my heart out, A-Qiao; it's all yours to begin with.”
For a split-second, Shen Qiao closes his eyes, and for that brief moment, he wants to believe in Yan Wushi and forget his troubles. He tries to block out all that Yan Wushi has done to him and everything that he has been through in his life.
But then he opens his eyes, and he has forgotten nothing. All of his past sufferings are still present and piercing through his heart. He takes a few slow, deep breaths in an attempt to ease the ache in his chest.
“Do forgive me, Yan gongzhi,” he says, hardening his voice and aiming for a ruthless blow, “for it is truly offensive for me to say that you really are evil and cruel within your heart — which I want nothing to do with—and a worthless soul who can't be saved... who will NEVER be redeemed.”
Yan Wushi's face is ashen and white as he processes the things he has just heard, and he almost looks dead.
Shen Qiao continues on, his voice weak and weary, yet aiming for another ruthless blow. “Mark me as relieved, then, that you love me so fervently, but, Yan Gongzhi, just because you love me does not mean I feel loved by you... Neither do I want your words. If that's all you have for me, you'd better let me go.”
Shen Qiao removes his blade from Yan Wushi's grip, wipes the blood off with the sleeve of his pale green robes, and backs away from Yan Wushi. Rain slips through the cracks in the window as easily as his words in the wind, but it has the power to destroy his entire world. He feels cold outside his body and within his heart, but not because of the rain.
Even his words are cold and gleam with the same iciness.
“Before parting our ways, though, I would like to say one last thing... You might not know Yan Gongzhi, but I've spent my entire life making wishes to the stars and telling the moon my secrets. So, if you feel like crawling back to me, please don't bother. Shen Qiao sheathes his sword, gives Yan Wushi, who still seemed frozen, an ominous glance, and continues speaking. “Look up at the night sky and spew all your lies to them, for they know me all too well.”
With this, Shen Qiao makes his way out of the room without pausing to turn around and look at the man who had just fallen into the abyss.