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“Yue-zhangmen, I very much appreciate your agreeing to meet with me.” A young man sat across from Yue Qingyuan. Steam wafted from the tea between them.
“Of course, young master Qiu. After all, your letter was quite concerning.” Indeed, Yue Qingyuan’s expression was unusually severe, for all that the lines of his face were carefully neutral. “If there’s something troubling in Shen-shidi’s past, of course I would want to know about it.”
“Yes, as I wrote.” Qiu Jianluo shifted, looking momentarily uneasy, as though he almost dared not speak. “It may be difficult to hear, but I swear on my family name that every word is true.
“You see, when I was much younger, my father bought a young boy, and took him into our household. He was a slight thing, half-starved, and not much to look at at all. Under our care, he was bathed, and fed, and looked after as one of our own. He was even engaged to marry my sister, who loved him dearly. And yet, despite the kindness we showed him, he…” Qiu Jianluo trailed off, and shook his head. The very image of a wronged brother, lost in regret. Yue Qingyuan’s face held only a shadow of its usual placid smile. Its shape was sympathetic. Qiu Jianluo continued.
“One night, I awoke to see him in my room, already holding an armful of valuables. When he noticed that he’d been discovered, he attacked me. Stabbed me through with my own weapon before I could so much as shout. I don’t know how long I lay there bleeding, but the next thing I remember is smoke. Shen Qingqiu—for I’m sure you must have guessed as much by now, though I know him better as Xiao Jiu—had set the manor on fire and fled. I nearly died that night. I still have the scars.”
Qiu Jianluo locked eyes with Yue Qingyuan then. Imploring. “I know it may be difficult to accept about one of your martial siblings, but I’m aware of his… behavior.” Suggestive, then, not imploring. Inviting him in on a joke. “Behavior unfit for a peak lord. Mistreating his disciples, going to brothels behind your back… I understand, Yue-zhangmen. From the streets or not, he was like my brother once too. But I must suggest you return him to me, before he sets Cang Qiong ablaze too. His ambitions far outstrip his means.”
Qiu Jianluo doesn’t know what the joke is yet.
Yue Qingyuan’s smile twisted. He waited. He stared. Qiu Jianluo’s brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak again. Before he could, “Young master Qiu,” Yue Qingyuan said, “This is indeed quite troubling to hear. And since you’ve come all this way, you of course have some proof of your claims. His papers, perhaps.”
Qiu Jianluo’s face twisted, too. Or maybe it always looked that way. “Would that I did, Yue-zhangmen, but he made sure it burned in the fire. I-”
Yue Qingyuan interrupted, “Then a slave brand, perhaps? He’d have one, surely?”
Qiu Jianluo frowned. “I told you, I thought of him like a brother. I-”
“Young master Qiu may rest assured, I am well aware of how he thinks of street rats,” Yue Qingyuan said, his eyes intent, “In another five lifetimes, I still would not forget your face, but it does not surprise me that you’ve forgotten mine.”
Qiu Jianluo froze.
With uncharacteristic hesitance, Qiu Jianluo continued, “Yue-zhangmen, if you would remind me…”
“It is of no consequence.” Yue Qingyuan’s smile was sharp. “But, since young master Qiu’s memory isn’t very good, is he quite certain that he has the right person? Perhaps time, or the tragedy, has dulled your memory of his face.” Qiu Jianluo stared. “I understand, young master Qiu. It must be difficult. But I’m afraid I cannot help you.” Yue Qingyuan’s smile was full of teeth. “By young master Qiu’s own admission, he has no proof of who did such a thing to him.”
Yue Qingyuan's smile was dangerous. “I wish you a safe journey home,” he said.
Qiu Jianluo left, struck mute.
The door shut. Yue Qi drank the tea, long gone cold.