Work Text:
Wei Qingwei actually loved his life. He loved his sect, his peak, his job, his disciples, and his position.
What he didn't love was his position.
Don't get me wrong, he didn't care about being third or tenth in the sect's hierarchy, he would have been happy to be an annoying shidi instead of a cocky shixiong, he could have enjoyed it even if it would have been much harder for him to avoid Mu Qingfang with his medical care if he were inferior to him. (No one has ever died of burns yet, shidi! — he said to his doctor's face; they have, — his shidi said with dangerous eyes, no longer arguing that he understood anything about medicine.)
No, he loved his siblings in the sect, even though they were difficult at times.
And he brings it up to this: being third in the sect means being between second and fourth.
It means sitting between the peak lords Qing Jing and An Ding.
Between Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua.
And in the early years, everything was fine!
Wei Qingwei doesn't want to say that he once again wishes that his shixiong was a sullen unsociable man ready to bite off the hand of anyone who tries to extend it (Wei Qingwei has tried; seven times), but the deflection of qi has changed him. So much so that he continues to wield his sword relentlessly, waiting for him to finally decide to confirm to all of them their shared fear that Shen Shixiong had been replaced long ago and irrevocably; even as he married his disciple, the Demon Realm Emperor, for a moment. (In fact, Wei Qingwei is certain that Shen-shixiong, the one he knew in the beginning, would rather tell his disciple to give up the title if he so desired to be with him than allow himself to be placed lower in that relationship; looking back at his shizhi, Wei Qingwei thinks the latter would have easily given up the throne).
And it's not like Wei Qingwei didn't appreciate Shang Qinghua, one of his most jaded shidi (no, seriously, what's wrong with some of his shidi and shimei? why are they willing to put their lives on the line for a job?), especially when it always seemed to him that Shang-shidi was even more aloof than Shen-shixiong. Which makes sense, in retrospect, since Shang Qinghua was a demon spy (another job, shidi? Really?)
Wei Qingwei really does wish his shisun and shidi all the best, and he's really glad that the two, for reasons completely inexplicable to anyone, are getting along. Even though even the two's marriage to demons is more understandable than their friendship (Wei Qingwei can only admire such casualness that slides into these two in everything; and when the hell did these two even manage to come up with their own separate language, oh gods), but at times they have been... impossible.
In a good way!
And in a bad way.
Well, if sitting between these two is difficult on good days because zhangmen-shixiong won't let Shen Qingqiu off his back even if it costs him everything, and no one will let him just switch places with one of them because Qi-shimei is a beautiful but gloating woman who also wants to just watch him flounder, then on bad days....
On bad days, sitting between Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua — is hell.
Wei Qingwei doesn't know what his shixiong and shidi have shared this time, and no one knows, not even their husbands, but the tension that flies between the second and fourth peak lords is worthy of mentioning storms.
Shen-shixiong on days like this is too much like himself before the deflection of qi: proud and angry, with sharp facial features, and a presence as warm as a winter wind. Shang-shidi is no better, frankly, looking more like poison: fluid and slow, sizzling through your veins, inevitable and incurable, as calm as the moment the waters leave the shores to crash with a wave as high as a mountain.
"Wei-shixiong", Shang Qinghua begins, his smile as pure as the swamps, "pass these forms on, please", and hands him the papers calmly and without the unnecessary movements he usually uses, stumbling over words, trying to do six things at once, smiling nervously; Wei Qingwei takes the set for himself, as if the papers could eat him up.
"Of course", he only nods, turning to his second shixiong.
"Thank you Wei-shidi", Shen Qingqiu utters, and, wow, they're nameless today; the last time Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu refused to acknowledge each other, three peaks were burning. Not theirs, of course.
Wei Qingwei cast a pleading glance at Yue Qingyuan, if anyone could even formally influence these two, it was their direct zhangmen-shixiong.
Yue Qingyuan purposefully averted his gaze, and hope extinguished before it could be conceived.
Ah, so zhangmen-shixiong has already tried.
"Perhaps", says Shang Qinghua loudly, instead of their sect leader, tapping the stack of paper as if it were his hammer in the forge; his shidi has a sharp smile, "let's begin".
And his shixiong emits a derogatory chuckle.
"Shen shixiong has something to say?" and Shang Qinghua's voice is soft and sweet, like the beginning of summer, like the honey of demonic bees, like the tantalizing sap of a deadly plant.
The sound of a fan being revealed is like thunder as his shixiong turns around to face the other peak lord. Wei Qingwei can see his treacherous shimei dear to his heart move slightly away from Shang Qinghua. He can also see Liu-shidi, on the other hand, moving closer; of course, if anyone is excited about the heat of passion and the impending fight, it's Peak Lord Bai Zhan.
"If only Shang-shidi has something to say to this master", his shixiong's eyes flash with green lightning, but their shared shidi didn't even flinch.
Oh no, Wei Qingwei thought, leaning lower in his seat, trying to dodge the two caustic glances between him, this is one of those days.
Being the third in Cang Qiong is unnecessarily hard.