Chapter Text
A little rebellion was expected when a new generation of Peak Lords ascended. Yue Qingyuan’s form of rebellion was reassuringly harmless–marrying his second-in-command the instant his master ascended. Undoubtedly the man was a soft-hearted and sentimental sort, easily taken advantage of. Love ballads were sung among the common folk, and when the Qing Jing Peak Lord was declared with child immediately after the wedding, the ballads grew rapidly in popularity.
A healthy child was delivered before the first anniversary of the new Cang Qiong sect leader’s marriage. The other sects brought lavish presents to try and curry favor with the new leaders of Cang Qiong, only to receive a rude awakening. Shen Qingqiu was the picture of an immortal cultivator, but his tongue was sharper than any sword. Yue Qingyuan, whom they thought soft and malleable, was a padded steel wall of a man. Together, the two of them drove Cang Qiong’s opponents away with their tails between their legs. Any advantage the sect leaders thought they could pry from Cang Qiong resulted in their own losses instead.
Cang Qiong announced a new child on the way only months later, then the birth of a third. The common people were aflutter over the story of the most powerful cultivator of his generation and his ardent love for his spouse, while the cultivation world’s reception was lukewarm.
Then came the fourth baby. And the fifth.
It was the peak lords’ second Immortal Alliance Conference since their ascension. As usual, once the event began the cultivation world’s elders gathered atop the viewing platform to gossip and watch their juniors’ performance.
It was times like this that Cang Qiong’s peak lords were eternally grateful that Shen Qingqiu and his vicious, sharp tongue were on their side, rather than against them. It was rather entertaining to watch Yue Qingyuan let him loose on the other sect leaders.
“Sect Leader Yue, I hear congratulations are in order,” flattered one of the minor sect leaders, wringing his hands.
“Again,” coughed someone with high enough cultivation to hide their voice.
Shen Qingqiu, resting in Cang Qiong’s seats with a prominent swell to his belly, opened his fan with a snap and fanned himself slowly in an unmistakable threat display.
The sect leader facing Yue Qingyuan’s genial smile twitched nervously.
“It’s encouraging to see the new generation take up their responsibilities,” said the Huan Hua Palace master. “I recall at the last conference we’d just had news of your eldest child, Sect Leader Yue. How quickly the years go! How many children do you have now?”
Yue Qingyuan’s genial smile only deepened. “This will be our sixth.”
“Six,” repeated the palace master with an ill-intentioned gleam in his eye. “My, my. Six children after only six years of marriage?”
Someone snickered.
“Xiao Jiu and I are very happy,” Yue Qingyuan replied as if he hadn’t heard anything, with a besotted look at his husband.
“Palace Master deserves congratulations in return for the recent birth of his daughter,” Shen Qingqiu remarked, still fanning himself. Eyeing the elderly, white-haired palace master over the edge of his fan, he continued pointedly, “The energy of our seniors is very impressive. We can only wish to have your health and fortune at such an age.”
Coughs sounded around the viewing platform.
Settling back, Shen Qingqiu petted the curve of his belly, looking unspeakably smug.
Wei Qingwei lost the drawing to accompany Mu Qingfang to speak with Yue Qingyuan. It was a source of great sorrow for him.
“So you see, Zhangmen-shixiong,” said Mu Qingfang, wrapping up his speech, “we’re concerned for Shen-shixiong’s health and cultivation. Although the sect has enough pregnancy-causing treasure flowers and dews, we think Shen-shixiong should allow himself to rest before carrying another child.”
Yue Qingyuan nodded slowly. “I understand your concerns. To tell you the truth, I had some thoughts in this regard myself.”
Mu Qingfang’s face brightened. “That’s good. Zhangmen-shixiong, we’ve taken enough of your time.” The two peak lords let themselves out, leaving a thoughtful Yue Qingyuan behind.
The next day, an unexpected, urgent matter required the sect leader to leave Cang Qiong. Not even a ke after he was away, the remaining peak lords found themselves being summoned for a meeting.
Shen Qingqiu was already present when his martial siblings arrived, arms full of his sleeping newborn wrapped in a green silk blanket sewn with silencing arrays. He rocked the child gently and fixed each one of his martial siblings with an icy glare.
“Which one of you,” he hissed, “told Yue Qingyuan he should birth our next child?”
Cang Qiong’s peak lords cringed. The image of a pregnant Zhangmen-shixiong negotiating with the other sects wasn’t one they wanted to consider. Cang Qiong’s dignity depended on it!
“Shen-shixiong–” Mu Qingfang began.
Still bouncing his daughter, Shen Qingqiu made an abrupt motion of his chin, cutting the healer off. “I told Zhangmen-shixiong it was a ridiculous idea, of course.”
The peak lords sagged in relief.
“Yue Qingyuan practices the Unity of Man and Sword. Just because he’s never had any difficulty doesn’t mean a pregnancy is safe. My cultivation method is far better for our children.”
The peak lords looked at each other and mutually decided not to say anything more. No matter the reason, a win's a win, wasn’t it?
Shen Qingqiu watched this with thin lips curved in a smile.
“You’re already pregnant again, aren’t you,” accused Qi Qingqi.
Shen Qingqiu’s eyes glittered with satisfaction. “Of course. I had to make sure Yue Qingyuan didn’t do anything stupid.”
His daughter burbled in her sleep, little hands curving around the edge of her father’s robe.
Shen Qinqiu crooned, kissing the crown of her soft hair. “Seven is a good number, don’t you think?”