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Yue Qi is dying.
He can feel himself weakening, Xuan Su greedily devouring his life force.
Foolish , a harsh, familiar voice scolds in his mind, Qi-ge was too impulsive again.
Xiao Jiu , he tries to call, but all that comes out is a weak, unintelligible croak.
The gray walls of the spirit cave, streaked with Yue Qi’s own blood, blur out of focus.
Gradually, almost imperceptibly, his breath slows, and Qiong Ding’s most promising disciple closes his eyes for the last time.
And opens them again in a room of nothing. Truly nothing—he turns, left, right, in a circle, but sees only a blank landscape that stretches on forever, like an endless scroll.
Yue Qi, at least, remains unchanged. His hands are still bloodied and raw, though the pain is surprisingly absent. Even his disciple robes, gray and tattered, remain, stained with a patchwork of red and brown.
Clearly this is the work of something with serious power. There are few creatures that can instantly travel to other realms, and even fewer that can cheat death on another’s behalf. But there are no signs of his savior in this endless blankness.
With nothing else to do, he picks a direction and begins walking.
He walks, and walks, for what feels like hours, but never tires even a bit. Nothing changes, and then he sees it. Slowly and surely, a figure appears on the horizon.
The figure slowly coalesces into a man, standing motionless in dark Qiong Ding Peak robes. Something about him feels familiar, in a way. Perhaps an elder that Yue Qi has met before?
“Xianjun,” he calls, and the stranger startles, “Are you—?” Then he turns, and Yue Qi’s voice dies in his throat.
The man’s wide eyes flick over his body, taking in the blood with a strange recognition.
“Yue Qi,” the man says carefully, and meets his gaze.
“Yes,” Yue Qi says, and stares into his own face, aged by years he will never know.
Desperately, he grabs the man’s sleeve.
“Xiao Jiu,” he breathes, staring frantically into his older self’s eyes. The cultivator visibly flinches.
Yue Qi’s stomach drops.
“He is alive,” he says, with great difficulty, “but-”
A faint chime sounds, and they both flinch back as a bright square of light appears in front of them.
The harsh voice of a disembodied woman echoes from an unseen place, accompanied by words appearing on the square.
[Greetings guest users! Quest Item: Frayed Red Thread of Fate has unlocked hidden subplot: Blast From The Past/Back To The Future. Users will have the ability to switch places and alter their current timelines. Would you like to proceed?]
Yue Qi and his older self glance at each other, and see the same thought in each other’s eyes. Although many of the words don’t make sense, the entity’s meaning was clear.
Change the timeline. Save Xiao Jiu.
“Proceed,” the older version of him says, with far more casual authority than Yue Qi can ever imagine in his own voice.
[Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! Guest users will now be switched to each other’s timelines! Good luck!]
The box of light disappears with a faint chime, and his older self turns quickly and clasps his shoulders.
“Xiao Jiu is upset with us,” he says, and Yue Qi startles as he begins to fade before his eyes, “We could not-”
—
Yue Qi wakes up in the Qian Cao infirmary. A man in Qian Cao’s uniform is taking his pulse, a soft frown on his face, but it swiftly disappears when he notices Yue Qi’s open eyes.
“Zhangmen-shixiong,” the man says calmly, “How do you feel?”
It takes a moment for Yue Qi to realize ‘Zhangmen-shixiong’ is him . He squints at the man and tries to imagine him several decades younger.
“Mu-shidi?” he asks hesitantly. And it is Qian Cao’s head disciple, he can see it now.
Mu-shidi sighs in relief, shoulders slumping, “What do you remember?”
“The Ling Xi Caves,” he says, and flinches when Mu-shidi’s face goes carefully blank, “I was, ah…”
Thankfully, Mu-shidi nods in understanding.
“Obtaining Xuan Su,” he finishes, “I remember. And nothing after that?”
Yue Qi shakes his head.
“That’s fine,” Mu-shidi gives him a reassuring smile, which doesn’t mask the tension in his expression, “We’ll just-”
“Shen-shibo!” someone yelps in the hallway, “You can’t go in there, it’s-”
“ Move ,” a second voice hisses, right outside the door, and Yue Qi can’t help but perk up. The voice is a bit deeper, sure, and more polished, but he would recognize it anywhere.
“Xiao Jiu!” he calls, scrambling out of the bed.
The door slides open with such force that Mu-shidi winces, but Yue Qi hardly registers it. Standing before him, clothed in Qing Jing green, is the something he has only dreamed of seeing.
“ Don’t call me-” adult Xiao Jiu snaps, and then freezes, voice trembling, “Qi-ge?”
“Xiao Jiu!” he calls again, this time in relief, and throws his arms around Xiao Jiu’s waist, hugging him tightly.
Despite being bigger and undoubtedly cleaner, he’s still the same Xiao Jiu that Yue Qi knows. Like he can’t help himself, Xiao Jiu hugs him back just as tightly, and heedless of the blood that cover’s Yue Qi’s form, buries his face in Yue Qi’s hair.
After a moment Xiao Jiu tenses and looks up, clearly remembering their audience. He pulls Yue Qi closer to his body, like he’s afraid he’ll disappear.
“What happened?” he hears Xiao Jiu demand, “Why is he covered in blood!?”
The sound is slightly muffled from where his face is buried in Xiao Jiu’s chest, but no one is asking Yue Qi anyway.
“I don’t know,” Mu-shidi replies calmly, “He appears to have lost all memory beyond his current age, but is otherwise in good health.”
Xiao Jiu’s arms tighten almost painfully around Yue Qi’s shoulders. “His current age?”
“Shortly after he joined the sect.”
At that, Xiao Jiu goes completely still. Privately, Yue Qi has always thought of it as his thinking freeze—that particular stillness that meant that he was connecting thoughts that Yue Qi could hardly scrape together.
“Out,” Xiao Jiu snaps, and Mu-shidi’s footsteps exit the room without protest, shutting the door gently behind him.
As soon as the footsteps fade into the distance, Xiao Jiu grabs his shoulders and maneuvers Yue Qi back so he can look him in the eyes.
“What did you do?” he says harshly, and it’s so familiar, so Xiao Jiu , that Yue Qi feels his throat go tight.
I’ll fix it , his bearing says, whatever it is, Xiao Jiu will beat it to death and then some.
And Yue Qi has been so, so lost, holding a burden too heavy for such a weak child, and he died -
“Xiao Jiu,” he sniffles, wiping at his eyes, “Qi-ge is sorry.”
Xiao Jiu huffs angrily.
“You and Zhangmen-shixiong!” he snaps, brow in an unhappy furrow, “Sorry this, and sorry that, and I’m still not worth an explanation from either of you!”
Never has Yue Qi felt the weight of his failures more strongly than this moment. Xiao Jiu is here , but his efforts with Xuan Su only seemed to have made things worse.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, the tears flowing in earnest now, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come back for you.”
The thinking freeze happens again, and Xiao Jiu stares at him like he’s said something important.
“Qi-ge,” he says, slowly and evenly, with an oddly frantic look in his eyes, “What do you mean, you couldn’t .”
A sharp, high pitched ding rings out, and the impossible blue window appears beside Xiao Jiu’s head, making Yue Qi flinch.
[Mission completed!] the strange voice announces [Returning host to checkpoint!]
No! He wants to shout, but the world is already blurring around him. The last thing he sees is Xiao Jiu’s terrified face.