Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

            It began, as so many of the ridiculous things he managed to find himself tangled up in these days, with a bright blaring screen popping up in front of him spewing garbage about updating progress. Doubly startling, considering the fact that the little hell spawned, digitized monster had been silent in the background in the two years ever since Shen Qingqiu had been forced to send his sweet white lotus over the edge and to his inevitable blackening and begun his glitchy {Mourning} quest.

            “Ah… Binghe… this master truly had no other choice! Show mercy to your poor blackmailed Shizun, huh?! He promises he likes you enough to keep you around, he knows how to hug thighs properly!”

            All he could really do was hope that his few course corrective actions had been enough to convince the protagonist that he was worth keeping around, or at least not ending with an abrasive salt and vinegar bath. He sighed, stepping away from the window of his bamboo house as he waved the thought away with his fan. What was done was done, and he had plans in case he still hadn’t avoided his fate.

            But, that only left him to stare at the small box sitting on his desk next to his ever-refilling pile of paperwork.

            Yue Qingyuan had sent it.

            Yue Qingyuan had sent it addressed to “Peak Lord Shen” on the outside, with a letter that began “Xiao Jiu- please” and said very little else in the way of context. Which was odd, even for Yue Qingyuan.

            Clearly, whatever weird thing that was happening off page was still going around, even though Shen Qingqiu himself had absolutely no idea what this all was supposed to mean. “This” of course, being the fact that this was the tenth gift Shen Qingqiu had received from the sect leader in as many weeks, accompanied by Liu Qingge dropping dead things off in a box on his porch at every available opportunity and the disciples lamenting about how he was “mourning”.

            Mourning himself maybe!!! Enjoy little things while you can kids, your shixiong is coming to raze it all to the ground!! And what was up with the gifts anyway? Curiosity finally bested him, and he lifted the lid to find a simply painted fan, depicting some sort of orchard with little kids running through the trees.

            Huh…?

            Since the weird “throw random things at Shen Qingqiu and see what he does” trait had started picking up, Yue Qingyuan’s gifts had been getting progressively nicer, and he had been obligated to respond to them in some way. So, he had hung the painting of the sect in his lecture hall, and added the books to his library, and displayed the tassels on his instruction guqin, and awkwardly offered thanks after inquiries to his health and every other sudden random interest the other man had picked up on- each one accompanied by a strange, melancholy sort of hopefulness around the sect leader’s eyes that Shen Qingqiu had no idea how to interpret.

            “Didn’t the original goods hate this man? What was with this sudden bold camaraderie??”

            And now, when he was really starting to worry where he might properly display a gift of whatever magnitude the man might go to next- it was this. A lovely fan, clearly made by hands who hadn’t been specifically trained for art, but lovely all the same.

            “Maybe we should see if he is next on the list for a qi deviation. Or maybe its back to me? Why the sudden left turn?”

Once again, he flinched as the annoying transparent screen of the system spawned in over his field of vision with a flash.

[Congratulations! Congratulations!! Congratulations!!! Important things must be said three times!!  ⊹⋛⋋ ( ՞ ਊ ՞) ⋌⋚⊹  Host User has received a Key Item and unlocked a Platinum Tier Hidden Quest! Please continue to work hard!]

{{ FOLDED FANS AND SORROWED SMILES }}

-Current Objective: (Speak to Yue Qingyuan)

            “Platinum Tier Hidden Quest?? Aren’t you supposed to be updating? Isn’t the plot on hold until Binghe gets his demonic power under control and returns to exact his revenge??? I still have three years! System! Answer for your shoddy timekeeping!!”

[System is updating! Downloading Host Patch 2.2- Download progress…. 95%]

          “What?”

[System is updating! Please enjoy your solo service experience! Limited System assistance is available- good luck and please continue to work hard!]

            “Why you no good piece of -!”

[System is updating! Please enjoy your solo serv-]

            He waved the window away with a huff as the age-old message reappeared, consistent enough that if it weren’t for the new tab in his quest log, he might have wondered if Ming Fan had added something sour to his tea leaves to make him temporarily go crazy.

            He eyed the fan sitting in the box, innocent and unassuming. To the outside eye, it wouldn’t be anything of note, save for the fact that the image depicted wasn’t Shen Qingqiu’s usual bamboo or cloud motif. If no one knew that it came latest in a line of gifts from the sect leader, it would start and end as a curious change of pace. He even turned it over in his hands, wondering if there was some sort of hidden meaning to the lines of colored ink splayed across the surface.

            Ugh… he hated having to guess! With a huff of frustration, he turned, sweeping out of the house, away from the solemn pile of white spirit stones, and away to whatever direction his feet decided to take him. Maybe the fan meant nothing? Maybe he had simply thought Shen Qingqiu would like it?

            But he knew that Yue Qingyuan knew that Shen Qingqiu, real or otherwise, would not have chosen such an accessory. Had he been too lenient?  Shen Qingqiu had felt it would have lessened some of the effects he had put into his scum villain rebranding campaign to verbally eviscerate the man over daring to look at him the way the original had, not to mention Yue Qingyuan was one of the strongest in their generation. He had taken the general attitude of the man with grace, it wasn’t like he knew what the OG had beef with anyhow.

            Blame it all on the qi deviation that brought him here and everyone seemed to accept his quirks after they couldn’t prove he was possessed.

            But it had been years. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but ask himself-

            “Why start something like this now?”

            And even as the thought echoed in his mind, he found himself at the foot of the steps up to the sect leader’s office- his attendants dutifully scurrying about with a grace that the wild, harried disciples of An Ding Peak lacked. Hurrying- always hurrying, but never rushed.

{{Folded Fans and Sorrowed Smiles}}

Current Objective: (Speak to Yue Qingyuan)

            “…”

            Shen Qingqiu fiddled with the fan in his hands- the one he had been gifted rather than the one he had affixed on his belt that morning and looked up at the noble façade. He always had wanted to figure out just what was up with this side of things. Airplane- annoying sellout that he was- had always laid the groundwork for some grand reveal, only for it to fall short and trip just hard enough to land on Binghe’s heavenly pillar, and then never be spoken of again.

            But this…

            “Shen-shidi?”

            Ah fuck- he was too caught up in his thoughts and now he’s caught up in something much worse! Yue Qingyuan had emerged, flanked by his head disciple and lead assistant, with a look somewhere between horror and ecstasy on his face. Damn these awkward social interactions!! Put your emotions away, man! Be serious!

            Out of habit, Shen Qingqiu’s hand flicked out his fan with a sharp crack, hiding the bottom of his face as he looked to the side in a panic. He was caught! And shit he’s using the wrong fan, the shaky lines of the orchard on full display.

            “This doesn’t mean anything! I don’t even know why I’m here!”

            “Ahem,” Yue Qingyuan cleared his throat as he turned to the two others. “Run the reports to the masters, I’ll handle speaking to Peak Lord Mu myself once I’m finished here with Lord Shen.”

            They bowed and gracefully scurried off, casting Shen Qingqiu looks as they passed that screamed he wasn’t the only one questioning why exactly he had come.

            All at once, it was like all of the flowing administrative assistants of Qiong Ding Peak had vanished, leaving nothing but their dazed-puppy looking leader and a feral hissing cat alone along the stairs.

            “Why don’t you come in?” finally came the offer, Yue Qingyuan stepping to the side and gesturing back up to his office. “I can arrange for tea?”

            “Ah…” His eyes flicked around- surly there was something he could use to get out of yet another awkward tea time with a man who clearly knew too much about him that he, himself, did not. “I… merely came to thank you for yet another gift. I must remind you they are not necessary, zhangmen-shixiong.”

            “Must it be necessary to extend kindness to you, Xiao Jiu?” Yue Qingyuan only smiled demurely as Shen Qingqiu struggled behind the fan. “Please. Come in, let me pour you tea and simply rest away from your peak for a moment.”

            “I…” He sighed, flicking the fan closed harshly as a strange feeling crawled up the back of his neck. “Very well. If zhangmen-shixiong insists.” He did his best to sweep by like an insurmountable, untouchable ice glacier. The original goods had never entered this office more often than he had to, and he had been no different since becoming the replacement. He wanted the man to think he was worth protecting, not that they were the best of friends.

            Even Airplane hadn’t been given that kind of distinction, and he had heard this mouth say all sorts of crass swears and seen these hands make all manner of rude gestures. No way was Yue Qingyuan even close to seeing that side of him, no sir! He was nothing more than a noble immortal lord on the peak of heaven as far as Yue Qingyuan was concerned!

            “Thanking zhangmen-shixiong for his hospitality,” Shen Quingqiu politely said after the man in question had poured them both fresh cups of tea.

            “It’s just us, is there such a need for formality?”

            “This Lord would never presume to be welcome to give zhangmen-shixiong such a familiar treatment.”

            “But you will carry such familiarities on your person to hide your face from me?”

            “…”

            WHAT?! Almost on their own accord, Shen Qingqiu’s hands flipped the fan around, tracing over the ridges as he took in the smattering green of the trees on its face. Was that it? Was that why he had been so surprised to see him use it? This image meant something to him? It was meant to mean something to them?

            “…my apologies, zhangmen-shixiong. You know my memory is not what it once was. You will have to enlighten me as to what is meant to be familiar here.”

            At once, Yue Qingyuan’s face fell, even further than the usual sad air he often held when happenstance caught them alone.

            “You do not recognize it?”

            “I do not,” he confirmed. “Again, this Lord apologizes.”

            “No…” Yue Qingyuan looked away. “No I suppose that it would only make sense. I apologize, Shen-shidi.” Ah, so they were both back to honorifics. “This one was foolish, it seems. If it pleases you enough to carry it, such reception will suffice for this one, and I shall trouble you over things no more. I only wished to lighten your grief.”

            “I am not grieving,” he blurted, once again snapping the fan up as his brows furrowed.

            “Not you too?? I’m fine! I’m planning to escape! The one who should be worried is you! Why’d you have to go and let the OG scum do all that nonsense, huh? Who’s gonna get shot with a billion arrows and die like nothing?! Have some self-consideration dude!”

            Yue Qingyuan simply leveled him with a look, and opened his mouth like he was about to speak, only to suddenly still. At once, the world around them went quiet.

[Congrats! New Host Patch Download… COMPLETE! Congratulations Host User! You have successfully unlocked enough story points to upgrade to the new Platinum Open Sub-System!]

[Character complexity- unlocked]

[Character Rewrite- unlocked]

[Branch Storyline- Yue Qingyuan- unlocked]

[Key Items- 2- ::Fake Guanyin:: and ::Ningjing Orchard Fan::]

[Branch Storyline Character Passcode-1- ::YUE QINGYUAN::]

[Would Host User like to use Character Passcode- ::YUE QINGYUAN:: now?]

            “…What would the passcode do?”

[Character Passcodes can be submitted to the Sub-System to allow for a more authentic, open range character experience!]

            “What does that even mean?!”

[Character Passcodes can be submitted to allow for a more-]

            “Yes, yes, we’ve established your gibberish!”

[Use Character Passcode ::YUE QINGYUAN:: now?]

[Yes/No]

            He paused, considering. The main plot as he knew it was on hold, at least until Binghe came back to begin his bloody revenge arc. He had always wondered what sorts of secrets lay hiding under this weird, convoluted banner of politeness met with icy scorn. What could really go wrong with exploring a little side quest before he dipped out to his precious mushroom body?

            He clicked yes.

[Congratulations! Host User has officially unlocked Open Communication <beta> with companion character YUE QINGYUAN! Please enjoy the camaraderie and continue to work hard!]

            Across the table, Yue Qingyuan flinched, scalding tea sloshing across the back of his hands.

            “Zhangmen- shixiong? Are you alright?”

            “What…is that?” His eyes widened, the sorrow from before rapidly exchanging place with suspicion as he stared just to Shen Qingqiu’s left.

            “No fucking way…”

[Congratulations! Companion ::YUE QINGYUAN:: acquired! System welcomes Companion to make use of its services alongside Host User! You can You Up! You can no BB! Please enjoy the camaraderie and continue to work hard!]

            And in the most out of character manner Shen Qingqiu had ever seen, Yue Qingyuan narrowed his eyes at the transparent blue screen and whispered like the breeze, “what the fuck, Xiao Jiu?”

Chapter Text

            “What?” Shen Qingqiu said blankly.

            “Did you get cursed without telling anyone again?” Yue Qingyuan demanded, setting his teacup down forcefully and rounding the table.

            “What??” Shen Qingqiu repeated at a higher octave, scooting around his own edge to keep the dark mahogany between them, the little blue screen turning to follow their stupid merry-go-round.

            “Honestly, you shouldn’t keep these things to yourself! What is this thing? How did you get into this situation?”

            “I’m fine.” He was shaking under his robes as Yue Qingyuan swatted at the transparent interface, making it static and flicker before closing out.

            “Where did it go?” Yue Qingyuan paused his ridiculous pursuit to turn, glancing about the room.

[Sub-System is available for use anytime! 24/7! Day or Night! Host User and Companion are welcome to call for any assistance!! Sub-System will be here to save the day! ᕕ ( ᐛ ) ᕗ]

            Yue Qingyuan jumped again, a curse leaving his mouth as the interface reappeared directly in front of him.

            Facing him.

            “You can see it,” Shen Qingqiu murmured.

            “As if I would miss such a thing!” Yue Qingyuan huffed, probably the most offended sound he’d ever heard the man make, and swiped at the blue screen until it vanished again. “Come on, we’re going to Mu Qingfang and we’ll get this handled.”

            “No!” Shen Qingqiu quickly flicked his fan over his face again, ducking away from the intense stare the other man was giving him. “That is… this one would rather not trouble Mu-shidi, and neither should Zhangmen-shixiong.”

            “You are cursed, Xiao Jiu!”

            “It is so much more complicated than that,” he argued. “Look… just… just meet me? Alright? Give me an hour and come meet me on Qing Jing, and I’ll explain everything. But Mu Qingfang absolutely cannot be involved.”

            “Xiao Jiu-“

            “Please, Zhangmen-shixiong. Just do this for me now. An hour and your confidence, that’s all I’m asking for.”

            The air weighed like lead around them for several heartbeats, and Shen Qingqiu was definitely not into the idea of having to knock the man out to escape, but if that was what it took to get out of this office without the whole sect finding out he was a sham then he was willing to try. He had no idea what to do about this!

            “Why couldn’t you have just given a straight answer about what this was going to do, you stupid line of ones and zeros!”

[Host User is so mean to the Sub-System. Sub-System even got you a friend, and this one still has to put up with so much bullying! ( ಥ ﹏ ಥ ) So mean!]

            “One hour, Peak Lord Shen,” Yue Qingyuan said, his gaze flickering off to the thin line of text in the air with a sense of steeling finality. “And then there will be no more obfuscation about this. I expect you to keep your word.”

            It was all the dismissal Shen Qingqiu needed to flee the scene with all the lackluster grace he could manage.

***

            Yue Qingyuan paced.

            To the door, to the desk, through the reception room. His limbs ached to draw his lighter sword and pursue, patience be damned! Over and over, turning Shen Jiu’s expression over in his mind. He had seemed… shocked- panicked, even, when he realized that Yue Qingyuan could see the little blue spirit hanging in the air between them. To the door. How long had the creature been there? To the desk. How long had Shen Jiu dealt with it’s presence alone? Through the sitting room. Was it dangerous? Aggressive? Was that why he had chosen to suffer alone?

            Why hadn’t he told him?

            …

Why should he have?

[Congratulations! Congratulations!! Congratulations!!!]

Yue Qingyuan swore once more and flayed at the air, tripping over the low edge of a cushion on the floor and sprawling gracelessly down onto his back. The creature was back!! Did that mean Shen Jiu had returned as well?

[Beep Beep and Woof Woof!! (U ´ᴥ` U) Sub-System is happy to inform Companion ::YUE QINGYUAN:: has completed his first quest!!]

{{PAITENCE OF A SAINT}}   (COMPLETE)

Quest Objective: (Wait one (1) hour to follow Shen Qingqiu to Qing Jing Peak)

[500 QY points awarded! 50 SJR points awarded! Please continue to work hard on your next quest!]

{{TERRIBLE TRUTHS AND TRYING TIMES}}

Current Objective: (Find and speak to Shen Qingqiu on Qing Jing Peak)

            “I don’t know what you are, but I will find a way to separate you from him,” Yue Qingyuan said into the quiet air.

[૮ ⚆ﻌ⚆ა … 50 coolness points awarded! Please continue to work hard!]

            This time, the thin shape of the thing slipped away without any interference from him, simply shrinking in on itself until Yue Qingyuan couldn’t see any trace of it still. But still, he looked around his office as he strode to the door once more, finally finding the will to pull it open and step back out onto the steps, his sword at once finding its familiar place under his feet as he took to the skies.

            Whatever failures he might have to his name, this was not a day he intended to add any more.

***

            “Bro! Bro!! Dude!! Do you know how much shit I have to get through today? Can’t this wait?!”

            Shen Qingqiu all but snarled as he threw Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky down in his receiving room, the orchard fan flicking open and closed in his hands like the flutter of a hummingbird’s wing. It had taken him longer than planed to track the man down in the chaos of An Ding, and now there would be a looming sect leader any minute, he was sure of it.

            “We have a problem so much bigger than paperwork right now,” he finally answered, running a hand through his perfect hair and leaving some strands to fall in his wake. “Did you get the update?”

            “What update?”

            “The System update, you dolt!” He ran his hand down his face with a sigh. “My System launched an update this morning. Did you get it too?”

            Shang Qinghua’s eyes went slightly vacant in that way they did when he was occupied with his System, zoning out into the middle distance before sharpening again.

            “I just have the original update message. Sixty-six percent completion, just how its been for a while now. No fair dude! I want new content!”

            “Well it looks like the new content is going to be a major pain in the-“

            He cut off as the door to the bamboo house abruptly slid open, soft as a flower petal and with enough of a dangerous aura that Shen Qingqiu was sure his toes would be blue with how much it chilled him.

            “Aiah! Sect Leader Yue can really be too scary!! I almost would have preferred if he slammed in like a brute!”

            “Peak Lord Shen,” the aforementioned scary sect leader said calmly as he paused in the entryway, his gaze lingering on Shang Qinghua. “I was under the impression that this conversation was to be had alone.”

            “He’s involved.” Shen Qingqiu winced inside as Airplane whipped around to give him a look of betrayal. “Not responsible, at least not directly, but involved.”

            “Is that so.” Yue Qingyuan closed the door behind him with a flick of his hand, and a thin line of golden qi threaded on the surface. A locking silence talisman. “You promised an explanation. I have waited for it alone as promised. Now explain.”

            “This humble one asks that you let him give a complete explanation before interrupting to ask any questions, Zhangmen-shixiong.”

            “I will do my best.” The sect leader stepped further in, gesturing to sit at the table with the other peak lord. Once they were all settled, Yue Qingyuan straightened his back and his impassive, genial expression rested on his face once more. “Xiao Jiu, explain.”

            “Now hold on,” Shang Qinghua started before Shen Qingqiu cut him off.

            “I’m not Shen Jiu.”

Chapter Text

            “And when I came to again, it was here, in this body, with the System to monitor my behavior and demand that I look and act like Shen Qingqiu and reveal the switch to no one on pain of a second death,” the false Shen Qingqiu said, his head contritely lowered as he fiddled with the teacup in his hands. “Needless to say, I shamefully accepted.”

            Shen Jiu never fidgeted beyond tracing the embroidering on his sleeves.

            He should have noticed it more.

            “Is that all?” he asked as a crown of silence adorned the table, the… the transmigrator seemingly finished.

            “There are a few other things that have come up throughout the years, but that’s the main piece of it all. I’ve been trying to steer Luo Binghe to a less destructive path, but I don’t know if my attempts were successful.” The man hadn’t looked up in several minutes, as though he were afraid looking at Yue Qingyuan would make the grief coursing through his veins turn into bloodied shards of steel.

            “Where is Shen Jiu?”

            “I don’t know.” At this, his eyes briefly flickered up to catch his before scurrying away, the polished traces of a haughty peak lord missing from a face that had always been guarded by it. Gods, he was never going to be able to look at him and see Shen Jiu ever again, would he? “I never had a direct interaction with him, I just woke up like this and was told he had qi deviated. I’m sorry, I can’t tell you what happened to him.”

            “And you,” Yue Qingyuan said, a deeper, darker part of him thinking Xiao Jiu would have enjoyed the way Shang Qinghua squeaked under his gaze. “Are you also a decoy?”

            “…uh… not exactly? I am from the same world, originally, but I also grew up in this one. This body was always mine, as far as I know.”

            “And he’s your shitty god,” Fake Qingqiu added, barring his teeth when Fake (Real?) Shang Qinghua tried to talk over him. “Shut it you hack! If he’s gonna be in this with us, he’s gonna be in this with us! Its not my fault you decided to chuck a perfectly good initial world draft to make nonsense drama and shitty porn instead!”

            “Fucking easy for you to say bro! The Shens were fucking loaded! Some of us had to let go of our dreams in order to not starve!”

            “I am not getting into this with you again. We’ve established I had my own problems!”

            “And money wasn’t one of them! I should know with how much you paid me! AND!! I will have you know I didn’t chuck the draft, I spilled my ONE iced coffee of the month on my laptop and ice fried the hard drive! Not the same!”

            “Clutz.”

            “Princess.”

            “Hack!!”

            “Hater!!”

            Yue Qingyuan watched the supposedly rational (yesterday he would have even dared to call them wildly competent and trustworthy) second and third heads of his sect devolve into ravenous, nonsensical squabbling. He might have expected to feel some sort of… something, but all his mind was aware of was the distant sound of “Xiao Jiu is gone, and I never got to say goodbye” ringing in his thoughts. He should be angry, shouldn’t he? The man sitting across from him beating Shang Qinghua with a fan wasn’t the man he had thought. He had invaded their home, taken something so deeply precious, and spent years enjoying the benefits with seemingly no plan to ever come forward of his own volition.

            He should be angry…

            “Zhangmen-shixiong? Are you ok?” The yelling and fighting and childish, disruptive antics had ceased, leaving the two to stare across the way at him with growing looks of horror and concern.

            “I’m fine,” he said simply. “I… I must attend to other matters, please excuse me.” He turned, wooden, and traced his way out the door.

            He was grateful the wind gave him an excuse for his tears as he mounted his sword.

***

            After his sudden and decidedly moist exit, Shen Qingqiu kept waiting for the other shoe to drop- for Liu Qingge or someone to come beating down his door and lasso him in immortal binding cables and chuck him into a shallow grave next to Airplane.

            He was still surprised each night when he went to bed, only to wake up in the morning and find that that situation did not in fact happen.

            Liu Qingge did come by, but it was to give him scales from the Giant Steel Scaled Leopard Shark that he had bested on his most recent mission, dropping the shining metal flakes into the box that had found its way onto Shen Qingqiu’s porch for precisely such occasions, and then he left.

            And on Qing Jing Peak, apart from the gently strumming of guqin or the harmony of brush set to paper, all was quiet.

            He couldn’t take it anymore.

            He had always cursed the Original Goods for his absurd level of clothing, honestly how many layers did a single outfit need, but he couldn’t deny as he got dressed in the most nice-but-not-too-nice clothes he could manage to put on alone, each tie felt a bit like girding himself in armor for the horrible battle he was surely about to face.

            It wasn’t until he was actually following one of Qiong Ding’s attendants that he started to worry if he might have made a bad call. Very much a ‘hi, I showed up in your martial brother’s nicest not-formal clothes to talk to you about how I am essentially nothing more than a parasite making use of his corpse and your money. Also, are you avoiding me?’ faux pas.

            He was an idiot.

            “Like I said, the Sect Leader has been practicing personal meditation and hasn’t been taking guests, but if Peak Lord Shen insists on trying to speak with him, this humble servant will not be held responsible for any anger the Sect Leader may express,” the attendant said, a mini copy of Yue Qingyuan’s Diplomacy Smile TM on his face.

            “This Master appreciates such concern on his behalf, but there is no need to stay. Surely you have been pulled from your duties enough as it is. I will forge on from here on my own.”

            “As Peak Lord Shen wishes.” The attendant bowed, the picture perfect representation of polite, restrained curiosity and suspicion before making his way back from where they had come.

            He had never set foot inside Yue Qingyuan’s house. In years past, all their business had been conducted in their offices, at a meeting of the twelve lords, or in Shen Qingqiu’s own personal quarters. So he wasn’t sure what to expect from behind the winding path of stone stairs, lined with bamboo and broad leafy trees on either side.

            The house was bigger than his own on Qing Jing, but that was to be expected given the status of its inhabitant. An air of quietude permeated the space, as though one might walk too loudly and it would crack at the seams.

            It was all highly at odds with the haggard mess of a man who threw open the door after the third time knocking.

            “I do not need anythi- oh. Its you.”

            “Its me,” Shen Qingqiu said, letting his gaze travel up and down the man. “Yue Qingyuan…if you would permit this one to be so blunt, you look like shit.”

            “What do you want?”

            “I wanted to check on you, and it seems good that I did.”

            “Go away.” As abruptly as it had opened, the door slid shut in his face, bouncing half-heartedly against the door jam and sliding partially back open.

            Shen Qingqiu used his fan to nudge it open enough to slip inside, closing it behind him again and laying a silencing talisman against it for good measure. The interior of the house might have been called a dedication to simple, understated beauty, if not for the fact that it was clearly in a state of disarray. Two swords were thrown carelessly against the sword rack on one wall, papers scattered around the desk in a frantic flurry on the ground, and the reception table was laden with no less than four large ceramic bottles, one of which was in Yue Qingyuan’s hand, pouring a strongly scented amber liquid into a teacup that seemed to have seen much use.

            “Are you… drunk?” he finally managed to ask.

            “I told you to go away.” Yue Qingyuan drank, and began to pour another cup. “You aren’t welcomed here.”

            “I understand that this is a difficult time,” Shen Qingqiu started, only to be interrupted.

            “You don’t understand anything.” Instead of instantly downing his cup, Yue Qingyuan swirled it in his hands with a sigh. “You aren’t him, he’s gone. You don’t understand what that means. You aren’t my friend.”

            “I may not be the friend you thought, but I can still be a friend, can’t I?” This man was much worse off than he had been expecting! He had expected rage and an execution not… whatever this was!

            “Did it hurt?” Yue Qingyuan suddenly asked. “You told me you were a displaced spirit. Did it hurt, to be without a body?”

            He turned his mind back, considering as he slowly approached the other man. “The actual dying wasn’t pleasant. I suppose choking to death never is. But what came after was… I don’t really know how to explain it. I wasn’t aware of any pain, though. It was like… standing on a frozen lake in the middle of a winter night. Theres’s life under the ice there, and you know its there, even if you aren’t able to perceive it the way you’re used to in the summer. I was so angry at Airplane for how he was stupid crafting this world, I felt like I could melt that ice and come back to life just to rage at him.”

            Shen Qingqiu laughed sullenly. “Maybe that’s why it put me with Shen Jiu. We both had a mean streak and a snarky attitude sometimes. But… if he experienced anything like what I did, then his spirit didn’t suffer once we switched places.”

            He cautiously reached out to pat the other man’s back. “I know you have no reason to trust me, other than the fact that I look like an old friend, but I do genuinely want to help you make this world a better place. Not just for Binghe. Liu Qingge is alive! He was supposed to die, you know? Everyone would say Shen Qingqiu killed him. But I was able to snap him out of it and now the sect is stronger for it. We’re already paying dividends! If we keep it up, we can all make it through to the end.”

            “Except for Xiao Jiu.”

            Shen Qingqiu sucked in a breath. You are such an idiot! How could you say all that nonsense and think it was gonna help him feel better when you completely missed the crux of the problem!!

            “I’m sorry,” he said after floundering for several agonizing seconds. “If I could give him back to you, I would. I wouldn’t have taken the offer if he was still in here.”

            “I don’t even know your name,” Yue Qingyuan laughed mirthlessly. “You’ve been sitting next to me in all our meetings, signing off on all our formations and tactics, training our future, and I don’t even know your name. He would never forgive me.”

            “Shen Yuan.” He reached across the narrow table and set down the box of favored snacks he had brought as his pretense for visiting. “This one is simply called Shen Yuan. And who knows…”

Shen Yuan turned the few definite things he knew about the Original Goods in his mind. “…maybe he would.”

Chapter Text

            It felt wrong, to have a sense of normalcy return to his days. Qiong Ding was effective, efficient, and independent, but at the end of the day, he was still the leader of Cang Qiong, and he had responsibility over it just as all the other peak lords had over their own dominions.

            So, he cleaned his desk, cleaned up shards of shattered teacups, polished his swords before putting them away properly, and took a bath before donning the face of a man who wasn’t lost in the throes of grief once more.

            He had thought, once, that he hadn’t been able to save Shen Jiu. It turned out that the boy of those many years ago had managed to save himself. But now he was here again, Xiao Jiu gone, all but confirmed as lost to him by a stranger wearing his face.

            And that was probably strangest of all. He oversaw the productions on Ku Xing, denoting their upcoming talisman needs from An Ding to Peak Lord Gao. He watched the disciples of Ling You wrangling all manner of beasts with a smile on his face. He went over the list of disciples of the sect who were being given permission to try and draw a sword from Wan Jian’s cliffs and caverns. And there- after it all- he found himself once again next to the false Shen Qingqiu- Shen Yuan, whom he quickly found he could not hold much hatred for at all.

            A younger Yue Qingyuan might have challenged him more. A more brazen Yue Qingyuan would have picked him apart looking for shreds of insincerity or deception. A Yue Qingyuan that was still more Qi-ge and a little less Zhangmen-shixiong might have even tried to sound the way Xiao Jiu used to, all sharp tones and violent outbursts.

            But he was not those people anymore, no more than Shen Qingqiu was Xiao Jiu. Not in any way that truly mattered still. And it was clear, in those moments where outside eyes could not see, and it was just him, two transmigrators, and a little blue spirit, that the man wearing his dearest person’s face was hardly more vicious than a starving cat who had been cornered in an alley.

            He couldn’t hold on to his anger very long at all, not when Xiao Jiu’s eyes and Xiao Jiu’s voice haunted him. “If I could give him back to you, I would.” Not when he averted his gaze guiltily when the healing wound was accidentally stumbled over in their conversations.

            Not when it was so painfully clear that Shen Yuan had never wanted to hurt anyone.

            Shang Qinghua, at least, was still very much himself. A bit more eccentric, perhaps, often making allusions to things that were beyond Yue Qingyuan’s understanding. People and places and something called a “meme” that they both missed dearly.

            It must have been very important to their culture for how often it was mentioned in the babble he managed to decipher.

            It was easier, too, when Shen Yuan ‘broke character’ as he put it. When the façade of Immortal Master Shen was taken off like the paper mask it was to reveal the snarky, thorn-tongued young man underneath. He had almost deviated when he found out that the boy in his martial brother’s body was only halfway past twenty and as twice as mature as his peer when it came to matters of science.

            “You wrote it!” Shen Yuan had once proclaimed, once again beating the elder transmigrator over the head with his fan. “How could you forget that the Autumn Wind Starlight Flower would have the exact properties needed to infuse an abrogation elixir with additional power without requiring extra qi? You were literally the one who decided it could do that!”

            The fact that his bumbling sect brother was also his supposed godlike father and divine artisan of his life and very soul was one that Yue Qingyuan was decidedly avoiding the tackling of. He could just…

            He would worry about that part later. Much, much later.

            Today, several months into the hounding of the two transmigrators and the daily reception of variously labeled points from “the system” at random intervals, Yue Qingyuan found himself in the rather odd position of accompanying the two out into the middle of nowhere, to a perfectly empty field centered in a maze of talismans and magical trickery. The wards were subtle, not enough to draw unwanted attention but still strong enough to require Shen Yuan to pinch his sleeve and lead him through the distortions until they had reached the middle.

            “You asked me to accompany you… for this?” Yue Qingyuan looked around skeptically. It was… nice? The grasses were tall and seemed soft, the kind that swayed and tickled like stalks of satin rather than poking and prodding in search of water.

            “We wanted to show you something,” Shen Yuan smiled. “You’ve proven that you can be trusted with it. Come over here, look at this. Its our back up plan in case Binghe decides to still go full French with us.”

            Yue Qingyuan didn’t really want to know what “full French” meant, having learned enough about the faraway land who’s history was used to stage one too many of the prophesied battles Luo Binghe would rage to stop asking more questions about them. Although he was assured that they had very good bread, as though that would be the part that worried him.

            Because that was the kind of thing these two cared to share. War stories, jokes he didn’t understand, and food. And the details of some type of training regime Shen Yuan used to ritually partake in referred to as ‘mortal combat’, which he had assured him was much more fun and much less dangerous than it sounded, in spite of somehow remaining completely filled with brutal violence.

            He was skeptical about that one, although his martial skills were in no way lacking based on his previous displays.

            But whatever strange things the two had been getting up to behind closed doors and in wayward fields had not impacted the quality of their peak lord duties, so Yue Qingyuan supposed that there was little harm in letting them go about their experiences until the day prophesied half-demon Lord Luo Binghe returned.

            Knowledge of their oddities aside, it didn’t stop the feeling of being punched in the gut when Shen Yuan gently dug down into the dirt and brushed the soil away from a pale, dirty face with high cheekbones and ink black hair. Even though it had no facial features, only a small depression where the eyes belonged and an ever so subtle hint of a nose, there could be no doubt that he was looking down upon the half- formed visage of Shen Qingqiu, dirty and peaceful in the ground.

            “We had a few false starts as we figured out the soil requirements and how much qi the seeds needed in order to root properly,” Shen Yuan said animatedly. “But these ones are taking root and developing well.” Shen Yuan reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small bundle of cloth. “We still have a few good seeds left. We could make a plot for you, just in case… if you want?”

            “What am I looking at?” He tried to hide the nausea churning in his stomach.

            “A body grown from Sun and Moon Dew seeds. If you plant a seed and give it a regular influx of qi, it will take root and grow a body that can then be used to call you back if the natural body should perish.”

            “If Luo Binghe comes for Cang Qiong, you’d be able to take a loss and come back to try again,” Shang Qinghua tacked on. “Or leave it and start up new somewhere else that he won’t have an interest in bothering protecting people who will need it during the imperial transition.”

            He stared down at the face in the dirt, so clearly turning into the face that watched him from behind a fan, and part of him wondered why fate had waited to teach him about such a trick until it was too late for him to use it for the one he truly had wanted to save.

            “I… thank you for such an offer,” he finally managed. “But I do not think I would be comfortable doing such a thing.”

            “That’s alright,” Shen Yuan easily acquiesced, tucking the parcel of divine seeds away. “We have a few years yet before Binghe comes back. If you change your mind, we still have some time to grow one later.”

            “Right,” the sect leader said woodenly as the imposter gently packed the soil back over that half real face.

            “As thought I would extend the time I must wait for my reunion.”

***

            He took back what he had said before, Yue Qingyuan was actually pretty cool. Sure he didn’t know about the internet, television, cell phones, video games, or any of the major historical events that had shaped the world that eventually contained his childhood, but Shen Qingqiu still found him to be pretty good company once they were able to look at each other without one of them drastically coming close to a mental breakdown.

            In a way, it was almost too easy. The three of them had standing meetings on the first and third Monday of every month, hosted in Yue Qingyuan’s house (which was decidedly nicer than the first time he had made a visit) and they talked. Not just about Binghe and plans and worries for the sect, but just… talked.

            Shen Yuan and Airplane took turns telling stories from their world, from children’s tales to historical epics. There were poorly performed renditions of their favorite songs, one occasion even leaving Yue Qingyuan with his head in his hands as the two struggled to sing “Despacito” between their bouts of laughter.

            Yue Qingyuan told them about his life too, in small, snatched snippets that were more accidental slip ups than stories. Each time he would flick his gaze towards Shang Qinghua, until he finally asked why the writer never gave his thoughts on the matter. With a weird air, Airplane had only shrugged and stated that it was no longer his story to tell.

            And Shen Yuan wasn’t going to be the asshole who asked. If Yue Qingyuan wanted to tell him about the time he and Shen Jiu had sat on the rainbow bridge as disciples and strength trained by throwing stones, he would accept it with grace. The same with the fighting over budgets, over drills, over missions. And he would never ask why his voice broke whenever he mentioned Shen Jiu’s old house, or the fact that they grew up in similar circumstances in the same city, or what it was that filled his eyes on the nights of the full moon as he sat at a table of three and poured tea for four.

            If Yue Qingyuan trusted him enough, he would tell him when he was ready. Shen Qingqiu was no longer willing to try and forcefully pry it out from the original source when it meant going behind the sect leader’s back.

            It was during one such moon-tinted night, when the tea had been poured and the snacks had been eaten and he had successfully made Yue Qingyuan experience second-hand embarrassment at least twice, that a sort of restlessness settled under Shen Yuan’s borrowed skin. It itched, like a swarm of ants preparing to topple a hill, and he found himself slipping outside in the middle of Shang Qinghua’s recital of Atlantis on the excuse of needing some air.

            His hands fiddled with the fan on his belt, open and closed again and again and again. He always got a little restless under a full moon. Airplane had once teased him about turning into a werewolf, much to Yue Qingyuan’s initial horrified concern.

            Ah, that had been a fun conversation. It had started their dramatic launch into the shitty, middle-school fanfic worthy retelling of Dracula and Twilight. Yue Qingyuan had declared that he was decidedly on Team Charlie, which Shen Yuan could respect.

            Open, close, open, close went the fan, Shen Yuan practically unaware of the motion.

            His feet carried him away from the house without his direction, towards the thin stalks of bamboo and twisting gnarled tree trunks that stood silently, guarding the shallow pond Yue Qingyuan invited him to meditate at once. It had left him feeling dizzy, Without a Cure clogging his meridians not long after assuming lotus position. It beckoned to him now, the moonlight on the water enticing like painted glass.

            It was now later into the autumn season, with the trees already turning yellow, orange, and red. So why did he feel so warm? His head was starting to feel fuzzy too, but his qi felt fine. Great, even, surging in his veins. That was good, right?

            Open, close, open, close. Maybe he had simply overdone it with the extra outer robe today? The water was so beautiful, crystal clear down to the bottom, with a few small fish swimming happily. Yue Qingyuan would soon give the order for them to be taken into tanks indoors, probably. How nice that he would have the chance to see them one more time before it got too cold.

            The little one with the orange and black striped along its fins scurried away from him, no doubt shy of having such a large specimen in its pond, disturbing the currents.

            “No need to be scared,” he thought. “I’ve always thought fish were cute…”

            There were fish in Atlantis. The big, stone fish that used ancient power to fly. It was kind of like flying on a sword. He should make sure Airplane didn’t forget about the stone fish, they had been an instrumental tool in Milo’s success, after all.

            He turned back to the shore, and oh. There they were, rushing up the path to meet him.

            How kind.

            “Do you remember the fish?” he asked once they seemed close enough, a soft giggle escaping his lips. “The fish were my favorite.”

            The world turned sideways, just as the two began to shout, and a ripple of qi washed through the rocking waves of the pond, blue and overwhelming.

            “Maybe the fish will teach me how to fly,” he thought, before he was submerged, and everything went black.

Chapter Text

            Upon regaining a sense of awareness, the first thing he noted was the insistent, painful pounding in his head. With a small groan, Shen Qingqiu managed to force his eyes open, blearily watching the blue and black blob rushing over to him, something warm and heavy brushing back the wayward strands of his hair and murmuring to him in a tone he thought might be comfort, but his brain was currently refusing to process.

            It was nice though, the weight soothed something inside him that felt raw on the edges, and the sudden urge to bite him abated once he was able to clearly see his face.

            “Yue-gege?” he finally managed to say with a small furrow to his brow as his eyes remembered how to process sight. At once, the hands on his head seemed to stutter and freeze. It was Yue Qingyuan watching over him. Why was he here? Why did he seem so concerned? The last thing he remembered was Shang Qinghua telling stories, and Yue Qingyuan sitting enraptured. “What happened?”

            “You deviated,” Yue Qingyuan finally said, his hand once again slowly moving to pet Shen Qingqiu’s hair. “We brought you back to Qing Jing to recuperate. Shang Qinghua has gone to fetch Mu-shidi.”

            “Mm…” He blinked slowly, his eyes feeling heavy. He wanted to reach up and grab hold of the man, some quiet part of him thankful that he hadn’t woken up alone, or with someone who would require for him to immediately put on his façade and pretend like he was fine, or act like qi deviations weren’t scary. He wanted to, but his hands remained stoically folded on his stomach, as though they themselves were unwilling to seek out the clearly offered comfort.

            “How are you feeling?” Yue Qingyuan asked, leaning away for a moment to bring the parched transmigrator a cup of cool water.

            The water slid down his cotton-dry throat like the elixir of life as Yue Qingyuan helped him sit up, leaving Shen Qingqiu to drink hastily and make a small mess of his collars, but he didn’t particularly care at that point. It was a plain sleep set anyway and…

            “How did I get changed?” Shen Qingqiu suddenly asked, setting the cup down with a solid clink  against the bedside table.

            “Forgive this Shixiong,” Yue Qingyuan said with his head bowed. “The waters of the reflection pond are particularly cool this evening, and Shang-shidi and I worried you would fall ill if left in your dampened attire any longer than strictly necessary. After the energy required to subdue you in such a state, there was little qi left between us for drying you off.”

            “Oh…” He awkwardly fiddled with the collars, pulling them closer. “Um. Thanks. I don’t… that is… I vaguely remember the pond? I remember thinking it was very pretty, and how I liked the fish.”

            “You were relatively calm in the beginning. If Shang-shidi and I hadn’t sensed your aura change, I doubt anyone would have been able to tell from looking. But by the time we managed to catch up to you, you had collapsed into the water and when we pulled you out, you began to struggle.”

            “I did?” If he was ever so thankful for the poker face that Shen Jiu’s body still knew how to hold, it was in that moment. Not that it stopped the heat from rising in his mortified face, but that was easily covered by flopping back down on the pillows and smooshing the pane of his bedside fan over the whole of his face, pressing hard enough for the spokes to gently curve, the center bowing over his nose. “I am so sorry, Zhangmen-shixiong.”

            “It was quite the feat, even Liu-shidi would be impressed with the level of resistance, even if you bit me several times. But they were sturdy, I can tell your core is still strong, heh,” Yue Qingyuan said awkwardly, patting his shoulder. “And…uh, well, Yuan-di?”

            With great effort and mortification, (god he hadn’t imagined it- he had called him ‘Yue-gege’ like some kind of kid brother, oh he was so fucking lame, the Original Goods would have died, he was so glad Airplane hadn’t heard him) Shen Yuan slowly slid the rumpled fan down his face until he was able to see Yue Qingyuan over the ridges in the paper. “Yes?”

            “I am glad you are alright.”

            “…thanks...”

***

            Mu Qingfang was calm and collected in his examinations, carefully feeding qi into Shen Qingqiu’s meridians and checking his vitals while they listened to him recount what (censored) details of the evening he could remember, Shang-shidi and Yue Qingyuan himself occasionally interspersing comments to gloss over what details couldn’t be shared on behalf of their little blue hellion.

            And, speaking of, the small thing appeared before him once again, as it usually did as soon as he crossed the threshold to his private quarters.

[Beep Beep and Woof Woof! (U ´ᴥ` U) Companion ::YUE QINGYUAN:: has successfully acquired all starting components for SJR Point buying! COMPONENTS - ::SJR Initiation:: <beta>, ::SJ Activation:: <beta>, ::- - - -:: <beta>, and ::- - - -:: <beta> - Congratulations!]

            “What is ‘point buying’?” he asked experimentally. Shen Yuan had explained things to him very briefly. Something about an interface, and command codes, and bi-something synchronicity. The main crux he’d come away with was that he was able to ask certain questions and receive certain answers. But only those that the little blue spirit deemed worthy or harmless would be answered.

            It was beyond him, sometimes, truly.

[Companions may exchange various points for desired rewards, tools, or scenario pushers! Companion Character ::YUE QINGYUAN:: is currently holder of QY points, which can be exchanged for internal rewards, and SJR points, which can be exchanged for external rewards! (Current QY points available: 1,236) – (Current SJR points available: 269) – (Current Coolness points: 1,599) – (Current Heartbreak points:89,897)]

            “What are the benefits of the last two?” he asked, removing his guan as he read over the thin lines of characters in the air.

[Coolness points are the heart of a protagonist! (V ✪ ω ✪ V) Maintain points to help supplement the Host User in their quest to align the Almighty Plot, fill in plot holes, and achieve maximum character satisfaction! If Host User drops to zero (0) points, Host User’s stats will be reset to their default settings, and Host User will be ejected.]

            “And the… heartbreak?”

[Pain lends complexity and drama! Companion ::YUE QINGYUAN:: currently holds heartbreak points for characters ::YUE QINGYUAN:: and :SHEN QINGQIU v.1:: - Follow Host User to correct plot holes, and reduce heartbreak by building character satisfaction while uncovering the truths of the Almighty Plot by completing quests!]

            “What quests are currently assigned to me?” He asked, shrugging into his sleeping robes and crawing into his bed, tucking his knees up under his chin as he leaned against the headboard.

[Companion Character ::YUE QINGYUAN:: currently has two active quests!]

Q.1 - {{In His Memory}} (Ongoing)

Quest Objective: Mourn Shen Jiu

Q.2 – {{Paper Faces on Parade}} (Ongoing)

Quest Objective: Learn more about the transmigrator Shen Yuan without revealing his deception.

           He thought of Shen Yuan dazedly calling out to him as he woke up in his bed, seeming so young and fragile in a way Yue Qingyuan had not previously had the honor to see. What few moments of desire he had to oust the man were already long dead, but much of his origin remained a mystery. But he seemed to be progressing well enough.

[Companion Character ::YUE QINGYUAN:: also has one available quest pending acceptance!]

PENDING {{And In Your Heart Shall Burn}}

Pending Quest Objective: Learn what happened to Shen Jiu during his unexpected qi deviation.

Potential Rewards: ::SJR - - - - Code::, ::SJR - - - -::, :SY - - - -::, and 1,000 QY Points!

[Would Companion Character ::YUE QINGYUAN:: like to accept quest {{And In Your Heart Shall Burn}}?]

[Yes/No]

            He may not entirely understand what everything the blue spirit told him meant, but he had no reservations declaring his quick acceptance.

            Shen Jiu deserved to be mourned properly after all, and part of that could only come with knowing how they had been parted.

Chapter Text

            “-and then, when it seemed like it all was over, and that he had failed, the evil lord stepped up,” Shen Yuan was telling Yue Qingyuan dramatically over the growing graveyard of snacks between them. “He looked down at the boy, who clutched his missing hand, hanging over the void, and he leaned in, saying ‘no, Luke. I am your father.”

            “No!” Yue Qingyuan gasped, his long-cooled tea clutched between his hands.

            “Yeah, that’s what Luke said too,” he chuckled. “But then Darth Vader told him that the emperor had foreseen that Luke had the power to overthrow him. He offered to teach him the ways of the Dark Side, and together they would bring order to the empire.”

            “What did Young Master Luke say?” Shang-shidi may have been the writer, but Shen Yuan proved to also be adept at storytelling, Yue Qingyuan barely even registered that the light was coming in the window at the tell-tale slant of dusk.

            “He said that he would never join the Sith, and then he threw himself into the pit.”

            “Oh my,” the sect leader sighed, a hand hovering over his mouth. “Such dedication to his principles, that he would die for his order!”

            “And he would have! But as he was stuck at the very end, where the shaft emptied out into the skies, the others managed to rescue him! They put him in one of the special healing beds, and gave him a metal hand to replace the one his father had cut off. And that’s where the story ends.”

            “But what about the smuggler? And was the villain telling the truth? Is he really the hero’s father?”

            “Ah,” Shen Yuan said with a satisfying stretch. “That’s all in Return of the Jedi and Airplane will absolutely cry if he finds out I told that one without him. It’s his favorite. Choosing to go be shady over coming to guy’s night is a mistake he won’t make twice, now.”

            “How many segments of the story are there?” Yue Qingyuan asked, clearing away some of their detritus from the table, gracefully ignoring the subtle further incrimination of the missing second transmigrator.

            “Six major pieces, with lots of smaller, more detailed ones scattered around. Four and five are great, but six it by far a penultimate climax. And leave that, I’m on light labor, that doesn’t mean I’m an invalid.”

            “I look forward to them then,” Yue Qingyuan acquiesced, letting the young transmigrator take the tea set and empty snack box from his hands.

            “Oh, four and five are A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back, we’ve already done those ones,” the younger man called from the small kitchenette.

            “You started telling me a story from the middle?” Yue Qingyuan looked at him oddly. “Is that common in your world?”

            “Nah. This series in particular just has some division on the subject. Airplane would tell the prequels first for the sake of continuity, but if you do it that way you miss all the suspense from the original trilogy!” Shen Yuan huffed as he came back to the table. “Honestly, you’d think for a writer he’d have a better sense of how to execute a storyline. Eh, well… no I guess his original works also had some bad execution. Man, if he doesn’t know how to build a monster though. I remember hearing the description for a Pearl-Scaled Iguana Dragon the first time and knew that it must have been the coolest thing in the Southern Deserts. Granted now that I’m here I know it’s a lot smaller than I was first thinking.”

            “Are there not great beasts in Shen Yuan’s home world?” Yue Qingyuan dared to ask, trying to make the question seem natural enough.

            “I mean, we have things. All the things that make up other things here, usually. Like… we have pearls. We have iguanas. We don’t have iguanas with pearl scales, and dragons are just stories. Or dinosaurs. But most people think stories.”

            “What is a dinosaur?”

            He couldn’t help but smile slightly as Shen Yuan perked up, launching into a different tirade about the extinction of enormous lizards who may or may not have had feathers (Shen Yuan was of the mind that they had- as stated by leading scholars of the study, and apparently Shang Qinghua took all his factual beliefs from a record of a popular story epic, and was therefore not a solid reference) and Yue Qingyuan was happy to nod along and hum in all the right places.

            He understood some of these words, yes.

            As the young transmigrator continued on, Yue Qingyuan’s thoughts drifted slightly. Not that he wasn’t interested in the difference between a velociraptor and a utahraptor, he was- distantly, but Shen Yuan was flapping the long trains of his sleeves around again and it sparked a memory of a younger Qi-ge and Xiao Jiu, mocking onery young lords in the streets as they scurried between shadows in search of bread.

            “But anyway, I’m no paleontologist, so who am I to say, right?” Shen Yuan finally finished, turning back to him. Something in his face must have given him away though, because the boy’s face softly fell. “Yue-gege? Are you alright?”

            “Forgive me, Yuan-didi,” he said, blinking rapidly. “I was caught in a memory.”

            “Oh…” Shen Yuan seemed to agonize over something for a second before returning to his place at the table. “Would you… maybe like to talk about it?”

            “I should hate to trouble you.”

            “It’s no trouble!” Shen Yuan smiled, in that Xiao-Jiu-but-Not kind of way that was too big to be false and too unfamiliar to be quite comforting. “My sister always said that when we share the stories of the people who go before us, it keeps a part of them alive. Remembrance is… kind of a big thing for us.”

            Yue Qingyuan paused. “I don’t believe you’ve ever mentioned a sister before.”

            “Yeah,” Shen Yuan said, his smile dimming slightly. “And brothers, two of them. I think it was easier to just try and forget everything when I thought I was here alone. If I didn’t stop to think about my family, it wouldn’t hurt so much to remember that we... that I’ll never get to see them again.”

            He looked back up at the sect leader, a fine layer of mist settling unfamiliar in Xiao Jiu’s eyes. “I have a hard time remembering, sometimes. If I came straight into this world after leaving that one… my meimei should be about to graduate college. And my er-ge is definitely getting his karma with his twin daughters, they’d be four, at least. Maybe his girlfriend finally agreed to get married, by now.”

            “Is she his concubine?” Yue Qingyuan asked. “The children born from his first wife?”

            “No, no, nothing like that,” Shen Yuan dismissed with a wave. “The older generations are still pretty traditional, but us younger folks have been giving emphasis to different things. Marriage is just… a thing some people do. Not getting married doesn’t mean you don’t love the person you’re with, or anything like that. Er-ge and Xiu Chao have been together since I was ten years old, they’re in it for the long haul, getting married is just something my brothers have always wanted.”

            “And what about Shen Yuan? Did you have someone you wished to marry?”

            “Heh,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I wasn’t much for going out. People were weird because they knew my parents, and not a lot of people want to be friends with the kid who’s destined to kick the bucket early, you know?”

            Yue Qingyuan gave him a questioning look, and he sighed. “I was… not good, in my last life. Physically, I mean. My mom got really sick when she was pregnant with me, and it ended up causing a lot of problems as I was growing. When I was really little, the doctors used to say I wouldn’t live long enough to turn ten. But, all that build up for a slow decline in a fancy hospital, and I got suplexed by the grim reaper with a meat bun. How embarrassing!”

            He laughed then, casually flicking his hair over his shoulder with a smile like speaking of his own passing and lost loved ones meant nothing.

            “I’m sure they talk about you,” Yue Qingyuan suddenly blurted out. “In- in remembrance, that is. It’s a kind, loving practice. Knowing what I do about you, I am sure they engage in it.”

            “It is. And it hurts less when you don’t have to hold all those feelings by yourself. I had to, because there wasn’t anyone. But now there’s you, and Airplane, and I don’t have to anymore.” His foot gently nudged the sect leader under the table. “And if you want, you won’t have to either.”

            “…thank you, Yuan-didi. I’ll think on it.”

            “No pressure.”

[Congratulations Companion ::YUE QINGYUAN::! {{Paper Faces On Parade}} Updated to 33% Complete!]

Chapter Text

            Shen Yuan had always thought that the system was annoying, but having it proudly display a tab labeled [::YUE QINGYUAN QUESTS::] and not letting him expand it for a look was particularly mean. He wanted to know! What sort of things had the system decided to bully the sect leader about? Could he see Shen Yuan’s quests, or was it the same set up?

            Honestly, having to share an interface at all seemed an interesting choice to go with, rather than giving Yue Qingyuan his own. But here they were, with Shen Yuan’s stats displayed in neat rows and columns, and the sect leader’s non-censored details available in a little tab next to it that was simply titled [::Companion Character Compendium::].

            It was in this particular tab that Shen Yuan had been pondering for the last hour, instead of languishing over the pile of paperwork he had to fill and file before the monthly budget meeting with the other peak lords the next day. Granted, Shen Yuan had been given a brief introduction by the system for each of the peaks and their management details when he had initially moved into the role, but now, Yue Qingyuan’s had been copied over to the new compendium, with a few more details present, almost like a wiki page.

[Yue Qingyuan – Cang Qiong Mountain Sect]

[Position – Sect Leader, Qiong Ding Peak Lord, Level of Authority: 1]

[Other Titles – The Xuan Su Sword, Peak Lord Yue, Sect Leader Yue, Zhangmen-Shixiong, --- -- (formerly), -- -- (formerly)]

[Yue Qingyuan is Sect Leader of Cang Qiong and Peak Lord of Qiong Ding. He is acclaimed to be the strongest cultivator of his generation, able to win fights without even drawing his blade. He is of a mild manner and steadfast constitution. He is often viewed as a kind older brother by many of his fellow Peak Lords, although he shows particular partiality to Shen Qingqiu. Yue Qingyuan was one of the great casualties in Proud Immortal Demon Way, in which Lord Luo Binghe lured him into a trap of ten thousand arrows, killing him in such a way that all that could be recovered were the broken shards of his legendary sword, Xuan Su, which were later used to mock Shen Qingqiu.]

[Host User has successfully unlocked Companion Mode with this character! Additional background details are as follows:]

[1. Yue Qingyuan was connected to Shen Jiu before his acceptance into Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.]

[2. Yue Qingyuan was delegated to the task of training Shen Jiu’s strength as a disciple.]

[3. Yue Qingyuan grew up in the same city as Shen Jiu.]

[4. Yue Qingyuan has a particular attachment to the full moon.]

[Please continue to work hard on quest {{STORIES TOLD IN SILENCE (::YUE QINGYUAN::)}} to expand character background and enjoy the camaraderie!]

            He clicked over to his own quest tab, flicking through the list for the nth time that evening. They remained lined up, just as they always had, with main plots at the top and side quests in their own category below, the two that he had received after unlocking the companion code conveniently stacked together under a title with the sect leader’s name in gold lettering. At the top was his ever-present {{Mourn}} quest. He clicked on it just to see if there was any change, but not even that held extra answers.

            Shen Yuan sighed. Being trusted by Yue Qingyuan was so much harder as himself instead of Shen Qingqiu. Not that it wasn’t totally fair! He had to put in the ground work too, he knew it was important if he were to depend on the man to help defend him when Luo Binghe inevitably returned. But it seemed like every time he had tried to open that particular can of worms in the days since his qi deviation, where it was just him and Yue Qingyuan in the bamboo house, the sect leader somehow managed to spin things around so Shen Yuan was talking about himself, instead of Yue Qingyuan offering up any information.

            The snare of a trained politician! How dare!

            Maybe it would be better if he just… asked? But Yue Qingyuan got so sad when the original goods got brought up, almost like someone had carved out his heart and then drop kicked it into the sun. How could he just… just ask??? And in the dead martial siblings own house, wearing his body like a costume on top of it all! He absolutely could not. Shen Jiu might have been ruthless, but Shen Yuan was nowhere near such obvious and intentional cruelty.

            Honestly, maybe it was part of why Yue Qingyuan was doing this whole word dance in the first place. Maybe he wanted to vet Shen Yuan’s own willingness to discuss the past before offering up his own. That was fair, right? He probably wanted to know just as much about him as Shen Yuan wanted to learn about the strange Shen Jiu-shaped hole that lingered in the fabric of their slowly reweaving trust.

            Speak of the man, and Shen Yuan heard the door slide open softly with a small knock.

            “Yuan-didi,” the sect leader said once their habitual lock and silencing talisman was affixed to the door. “Pardon the interruption, but I thought I’d come check on you and your reports. How are you feeling?”

            “It’s no interruption,” Shen Yuan dismissed with a wave and a slight smile, closing out of their shared sub-system interface. “You came at a great time, honestly. If I had to look at another repair requisition from Bai Zhan’s latest raid I think I might have gone over and smacked Liu-shidi myself.”

            Yue Qingyuan sighed as he settled at a side table near the desk, producing a box of melon seeds and dusted candies. “Shang-shidi said much the same. Apparently they’ve gone in and sabotaged the message press again, so he will once again be absent.”

            “Meh, we’ll see him tomorrow at the meeting. I can corner him after, let him know our next recital will be episode six, regardless of his attendance.”

            Yue Qingyuan seemed to startle and gave a small laugh behind his sleeve as he pushed a portion of the snacks across the desk. “Yuan-didi is devious. Surely it would be this shixiong’s honor to host the next time, hopefully without any unexpected swims.”

            Then, it was Shen Yuan’s turn to laugh, the mischievous glint in Yue Qingyuan’s eyes shining in a way that distinctly reminded him of his Er-ge.

            Maybe… Shen Yuan could wait a little while longer to hound him. This was nice, after all, and he would hate to waste the candies.

***

            Autumn turned to winter, and snow draped over the calm paths of Qing Jing, silencing the world under the full moon save for the wind whispering through the bamboo. It wasn’t a night to spend with Yue-gege and Airplane on Qiong Ding, and Shen Yuan occupied himself with donning a thick winter cloak over his heavy silks and walking through shafts of silvery moonlight in the pale green forest around his home.

            His hands flicked his fan on their own, his feet guiding him wherever they felt. Such wanderings had become commonplace in his spare time, his body left to meander and occupy itself as his mind turned thought inward. His fan would flick and he would blink, finding himself in front of the woodshed, or wandering past the meditation pavilions, or taking the trail up the back of the mountain to the old shrine for past peak lords. And all the while flick, flick, flick went his fan.

            There were times when he wished to make social calls to Yue Qingyuan on such nights, willing to simply sit and rest in the other’s presence and take off the mask of Shen Qingqiu for a while with the hope of glimpsing what lay under the sect leaders genial smile, but on nights like tonight, he just couldn't seem to make his feet take him to the gate of the rainbow bridge, or draw Xiu Ya to alight him to the starlit skies above.

            He had mentioned it in passing, once, to Mu Qingfang. He had been assured that it was likely the result of his damaged meridians from his poisoning and most recent bout of qi disruptions, and that he did not need to worry too much about it, until it became a more prevalent obstacle or lasted for longer than a set period of time.

            He wasn’t sure that was particularly common results for his condition, but Mu Qingfang was the best of the best, and had never given the man a reason to doubt his expertise before, so Shen Yuan was content enough to walk aimlessly throughout Qing Jing Peak and reflect on the pale, waxy face of the full moon above. It was particularly lovely that night, full to the last sliver and hanging in the sky with such majesty Shen Yuan might have thought he could reach up and scoop it out of the sky with his bare hands.

            He could see why Yue Qingyuan enjoyed the full moon, even though now he had to deal with Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua teasing him about werewolves and fairies as the fourth cup on the table slowly grew cold.

            It was a miracle he put up with their shenanigans anymore.

            The summit of the peak was particularly striking in the snowy moonlight, he was delighted to discover as his hands brushed the latest batch of powder off the small shrine and set up an offering of incense sticks that the back of his mind noted his master had enjoyed burning. His body knelt, for a while, heedless and uncaring of the wet patches developing on his knees. His cloak was warm, lined with thick white fur and jade clasps holding it secure across his front.

            He thought that maybe Yue Qi had given it to him, once, when the cold meant something and the moon hung high like this before.

            He hadn’t seemed to like it quite so much then.

            Shen Yuan shook his head with a resounding flick of his fan, his body having moved to the edge of the rocky outcropping of the summit. Before him stretched the heavens, painted with thin clouds and shimmering starlight, the moon painting the world below like ants. One more step, and he would fall into the vast expanse of creation, his leg already halfway through the motion before his fan fell from numb fingers, falling silent in the drifts.

            At once, the cold settled heavy in his bones and his teeth began to chatter, stilling only once he had circulated extra qi into his limbs and stepped back from the ledge, a haze settling under his skin.

            He returned to the bamboo house, the fan painted with stalks of winter flowers left to stain in the snow, forgotten amid the whorls of smoking incense.

Chapter Text

            Shen Yuan was acting strangely, even by his own otherworldly standards. Yue Qingyuan had started to notice it more, in the last few weeks of winter. Ice blanketed the world in powdered drifts and Shen Yuan wandered through like a ghost, a white cloak he had once given Xiao Jiu draped over his shoulders and an unfamiliar hair pin in his dark locks. His hands became preoccupied often during their visits, tracing the edges of his sleeves and the ribs of his- of Xiao Jiu’s fans.

            It was becoming more discordant- to see Shen Jiu’s face and expect Shen Yuan’s mannerisms, only for those to be absent as well. There were even days where the young transmigrator would be stirred out of whatever distraction had taken him, slicing the fan closed with a resound snap, and his audience would flinch in the remembrance of someone else for a rushing heartbeat before Shen Yuan could apologize for the intensity.

            “It’s nothing, Yue-gege,” Shen Yuan reassured him once again as they bid farewell after another evening in the sect leader’s estate. “I’ve just been feeling anxious about Luo Binghe and the mushrooms, I’m sure. The walks help me think, is all. Even Mu-shidi says its nothing I need to worry about. I promise I won’t let it interfere with my duties.”

            “Your performance has never been a concern,” Yue Qingyuan said as they parted ways, not entirely convinced by the young man’s easy dismissal. “But I do have a mission that’s a day’s journey away. Maybe a breath outside the mountains would help you settle your mind? Mu-Shidi would be accompanying you.”

            He had quickly learned in the past half year that Shen Yuan had a great love for this world he had found himself in, be it shown for ferocious beasts or rare plants, or on some notable occasions even semi-sentient objects he had taken care to handle with respect. If Shen Yuan were truly simply going a bit stir crazed as the prophesied return of his disciple grew ever closer, perhaps something “off-page”, as the transmigrator put it, would be beneficial to him. Come the end of spring, they would cross into the third year of Luo Binghe’s absence. Maybe it was time to give the boy a break.

            (Yue Qingyuan wondered if he had been forgiven yet for denying Shen Yuan’s request from the last mission he’d been sent on to bring a Cloud Spinning Sky Centipede back to the monster taming peak. He didn’t care how luxurious the silk made from its fibers would be- he wasn’t going to risk the little disciples getting eaten no matter how confidant Shen Yuan was that he could design a functional muzzle.)

            At the mention of a mission, Shen Yuan perked up a bit as expected. “It would be my honor to assist Mu-shidi! Ming Fan should be more than able to handle things for a few days.”

            “It’s just a small outbreak of plague to the south in Jin Lan that Huan Hua is requesting assistance with,” the sect leader said. “It shouldn’t be terribly difficult. I’ll have it sent with your monthly reports from An Ding in the morning.”

            “Thanking Zhangmen-Shixiong,” Shen Yuan said enthusiastically, as he was wont to do in the face of adventure.

            “Shidi need not thank this one for his own enthusiasms,” Yue Qingyuan dismissed. “Now go, and try not to wander too much in your thoughts. You’ll need rest for the journey.”

            “Yes, yes, straight to home and away to bed. I’m not a child, Yue-gege.”

            “If you say so…Didi.”

            “Bah!”

            The smack his shoulder received from the orchard fan did nothing to dampen the smile that hid behind his teeth as he watched his guest make way down the path, away into the night.

***

            Shen Yuan was found half-frozen on the rainbow bridge the next morning, a pile of stones stacked by his feet, and did not answer his disciples calls as he turned, blank-faced, and wandered away with a flicking fan, all the way back to the house hidden by bamboo.

            Mu-shidi was called into his office much earlier than he would have liked.

***

            “This is not necessary, Zhangmen-shixiong,” Shen Qingqiu repeated for the umpteenth time. “Your sect is of a higher priority than this Shidi, and I have been cleared for travel by my physician. There is nothing physically wrong with me.”

            “You will take the precautions, Shen-shidi,” the sect leader responded in a tone of voice that Mu Qingfang had rarely ever heard him take with his second in command. “And you will use them, or your physician’s word will be meaningless when I confine you to the sect until you are without ailment, physical or otherwise.”

            Shen Qingqiu muttered something behind his latest fan, an ornate thing with silver guards and metallic pigment depicting the sun cutting through the clouds to rest on a magnolia tree’s blooming branch. Mu Qingfang watched as Yue Qingyuan’s brows twitched, his kind smile frozen on his face like a picturesque spring slush that would be beautiful if it didn’t soak through one’s boots and freeze their toes.

            “We have already discussed your points, and my own,” Yue Qingyuan said in response to whatever the doctor hadn’t been able to catch. “Shen-shidi will take the talismans and the qi pills, and will use them in appropriate measure. And if they should prove insufficient, he will return to Cang Qiong to recover. That is an order.”

            “This Mu Qingfang will ensure that Shen-shixiong remains in good health, Zhangmen-shixiong,” the healer finally contributed as he finished settling the last of his supplies in a qainkun bag. “And Liu-Shidi will have no issue helping him to return should the need arise, rest assured.”

            Shen Qingqiu was strange on the best of days, more so since his latest bouts of qi flux, but it was true that Mu Qingfang hadn’t been able to find anything wrong with him, at least not so much as to remove him from the mission at hand. The man had been relying on inedia more than was strictly necessary, but that was hardly enough to put a cultivator of his caliber onto house arrest.

            And he was surprisingly well-versed in matters involving the adaptation and modification of the human immune system. He was, however strange, an asset to the suffering peoples of Jin Lan in this trying time. Mu Qingfang made a point to take the packaged medical supplies currently in question at tucked them into the small qainkun pocked hidden in his lapel.

            “It will be fine,” Shen Qingqiu breezily said once again, waving his fan with a demure smile he seemed to offer extra freely to their leader as he drew Xiu Ya and mounted. “After all, what could go wrong?”

***

            Yue Qingyuan fretted over the absent transmigrator for three days before Liu Qingge burst into his office with no preamble, declaring that Shen Qingqiu had been taken prisoner by Luo Binghe and the Huan Hua Palace.

            Yue Qingyuan didn’t even pause to direct his head disciple before donning both of his swords and taking to the skies.

Chapter Text

            He should have known better than to tempt the narrative by asking what could go wrong. As it turned out, the answer was actually quite a lot.

            Mu Qingfang had hemmed and hawed upon their arrival to the city, concerned by the quarantine order conflicting with his promise to send Shen Qingqiu back if his health should falter. Shen Yuan had deadpanned an “oh no” as he willfully hopped across a few stones leading deeper into the subterranean water entrance they had located.

            “Shen Qingqiu, be serious!” Liu Qingge called after him angrily. “Go much further and the quarantine array will trap you inside with everyone else.”

            “Oh noooooo,” Shen Yuan continued, hoping several more steps in. “Mu-shidi, it seems I’ve already been committed. We might as well continue. Oh, look! There’s a boat over here.”

            “You will be the reason my heart gives out before we ascend,” Mu Qingfang sighed with a well-worn sense of tired dejection. He gestured for Liu Qingge to follow, and Shen Qingqiu practically preened as he watched them cross the outermost layer of the arrays around the city.

            He probably could have gone back still, but that was for him to know, and his martial brothers to speculate about in their own minds. He was doing this! He could be adventurous too!! He had Yue Qingyuan’s at least somewhat approval, and by the gods he was going to enjoy these last few golden years as much as he could before the pickle jar came for him!!

            In less than two months, Binghe would have been gone for three years. He only had so much time to enjoy the perks of being a peak lord left…

            And peak lords went on cool adventures, damn it! So he was doing this!

            The boat was small and rickety, but they managed to use it to float as the stepping stones from before fell behind them, and the weak daylight shrunk down to a pinprick at their backs. The scent of their path was unpleasantly damp and sour at times, but their progress was steady so Shen Qingqiu endeavored to keep his distaste to himself and bear it.

            Getting hit in the back of the head with a bamboo pole did not help his mood.

            “Ow,” he hissed, rubbing the welt it had left behind.

            “Mm,” Liu Qingge noted, catching the offending object on the second swing. “Someone’s here, pay attention.”

           Shen Qingqiu grumbled behind his fan, summoning a little ball of light to hover over the water, illuminating the wriggling form Liu Qingge had managed to catch on the other end of the pole.

           “Go away!” the little worm yelled, his young voice echoing loud in the cavern. “You’re gonna get sick!”

           “We’re here to help,” Shen Qingqiu called. “We’re with the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.”

           “And you’ll get sick like those Huan Hua people! Go away!”

           “Mm,” Liu Qingge said eloquently, abruptly swinging the pole himself and sending the boy flying into the water. “Cang Qiong does not run.”

           Shen Qingqiu hid a snort behind his fan, letting the boy spring up and cling to the side of the boat he was standing on. “You’re pretty strong with that stick of yours. And sneaky too.”

           “You just weren’t paying attention,” Liu Qingge huffed, swinging the stick around to push them along faster. “That’s not the same.”

           “…” The boy stared up at him like he was a lion headed viper showing both sets of fangs. “You’re gonna get sick, and then nobody’s going to be able to make you better and I won’t feel sorry for you!”

           “How can I get sick?” Shen Qingqiu asked with a smile. “I have the legendary Mu Qingfang to help take care of me.”

           At this the boy seemed to pause, considering. He looked between them all, before tucking his chin over the edge of the boat with a sigh. “I’ll take you to Wu-daozhang once we get inside. He’s in charge of the clinic.”

           “Good boy,” Shen Qingqiu praised, earning himself an indignant squawk.

***

            As it turned out, the plague rash was very annoying, but easy enough to hide, especially since the hue of the barrier over the city cast the populace below into a dim grey light. He simply pulled his sleeves down and resisted the urge to wave his fan. That was a misfortune he could handle, all he needed to do was catch a specimen and hand it over to the clinic and Mu Qingfang would do what Mu Qingfang did best- execute a medical miracle.

            He was going to be fine. It didn’t matter that the slow burning was starting to sink into his flesh and making his meridians itch where they tried to heal his skin with qi. Or that his qi itself seemed to stutter as he continued to tail the creature trying to flee him.

            He was going to be fine. This was fine. This was adventure and he had plot points later on that the system wouldn’t let him miss.

            So… he was going to be fine! No need to worry.

            The demon disguised as an old woman bolted into the doorway of a building that might have been called beautiful before the plague had set in- its once fine gauzy red curtains draped from the painted awnings now dirtied with dust and torn in places, lending the whole building a haunted aura under the greyed tones of the quarantine barrier above.

            The interior of the abandoned brothel didn’t seem to be in much better shape, with tables overturned and shattered tea sets laying abandoned among the wreckage of the receiving room. A sweet, sickly scent hung thick on the air and Shen Qingqiu found himself lifting a sleeve to try and block the smell enough to continue on. Dust settled thick on the floor, muffling his footsteps, but it was clear that enough people had gone through recently that the prints couldn’t be depended on to find his quarry.

            He gingerly peeked around a door that was ajar at the back of the room, the scent of rot intensifying as he spied the faded sheers around a brothel bed, where a misshapen lump lay unmoving.

            “Pardon me,” he choked out, using the scabbard of his sword to push the curtain back. A mass of mottled bones rested in the mess of blankets, the clothes that remained in fair condition leading him to think the larger set had once been the free-spending licentious son of some local lord. The colorful silks of his courtesan rested over the concavities of his rotten chest, the silks dipping between the bones in some grotesque sort of embrace.

            But no creature.

            He silently offered a thought for the rest of their spirits and traced his way back out into the hall, making his way down to the next room. Again, and again, if the rooms were not occupied by fresh dead looking like they had weathered for centuries, they were not occupied at all.

            Eventually, he made it to a staircase. The rooms’ windows had all been barred, and he had seen no other exits, so the creature must have gone up to the second floor where the prostitutes would have stayed when they had no guests to entertain.

            Shen Qingqiu continued to think on the matter, searching for possible escapes and tell-tale signs of his target as he progressed down the second landing. His arm was starting to truly burn in earnest, the pain beginning to radiate up his arm and make the pulse in his fingertips throb. But he could still flex his fingers, and his arm’s movement was lethargic, but responsive.

            He was going to be fine. He just had to find-

            “…Binghe?”

            The sound slipped from his lips unbidden, the dark mass of curling hair at the far end of the hall turning like a whip at the slight noise. Shen Qingqiu suddenly felt like he might smile bright enough to shatter the sun, or throw up blood. He wasn’t really sure which.

            Luo Binghe, now much taller and broader than he had remembered, shoved the now-dead creature woman into the keeping of one of the nearby Huan Hua disciples, and huh… why was Luo Binghe wearing gold? Wasn’t it much too soon? Wasn’t him being out of the Abyss at all much too soon?!!? He had done all that, in just two and a half years? He was already allied with the Old Palace Master?

            “Shizun,” Luo Binghe said, moving towards him and wow did his voice get deeper or something? He knew that he was gonna come back with a charisma buff of insane proportions but what were these chills racing up his spine, huh? No wonder he seduced so many women! But he was here to kill him, not plan a wedding, he should move! Run as fast as he could out of the building, out of the city, out of existence!!!!

            He couldn’t.

            His feet, for all that they had begun to wander easily on their own, now resisted his panicked signals to pick up and move. That was Xin Mo on his hip! That was the visage of death!

            …his little white lotus was truly gone.

[Congratulations! System activation successful!] the System interrupted, slinging a slew of notifications across a screen in the corner of his field of vision. [Main power supply reconnected! Sub-System paired to Host System.]

[System diagnostics… clear.]

[Sub-System relay operational within acceptable parameters.]

[Hibernation Mode… Suspended.]

[Quest {{Mourn}} completed!]

[Quest {{All’s Fair In Love and War}} initiated!]

[Sub-System mainframe Updates in progress! SJR Initiation… 5%]

[Thank you for your patronage! Please continue to work hard!]

            “I would like a refund! I’ve been cheated!! Hello!!?”

            “Shizun?” Luo Binghe repeated, coming to rest in front of him, almost within arm’s reach.

            “…” He wanted to speak, really he did. But… this was not his Binghe! What sorts of awful things had he devised for his old master to propel him through his trails so quickly?!

            “It really is you, Shizun.” Luo Binghe smiled softly, a gentleness to his face that would have had anyone melting if they didn’t know what laid waiting beneath.

            The gaggle of Huan Hua youths were still in the hall, the dead thing currently being wrapped in sheets in the back of the group. They had an audience, and one Luo Binghe was manipulating for his own gain, surely that was why he was acting like nothing was wrong. Like he wasn’t on the cusp of an early revenge!

            “Won’t you say anything to this lowly Binghe, Shizun?”

            Without his command, the silk of his fan spread with a resounding crack, the intricate designs of bamboo and clouds on its face the only shield Shen Qingqiu had as the hand moved on its own to cover his lower features. Binghe had grown tall in his absence, Shen Qingqiu having to tilt his head up slightly to meet the boy’s gaze.

            “What is going on here?” he managed to ask, thankful for his years of hiding his true feelings as his voice came out cool and collected.

            Some of the Huan Hua kids scoffed, and there were displeased murmurings rippling through them, all of which accompanied dirty looks in his direction. One in particular even tried to spit on the ground, but only ended up with a saliva trail down his lip.

            “Um??? Who is your master kid? Who taught you such poor manners, huh? Shen Qingqiu is by every right your senior and proved himself! He’s never had such open disrespect from a bunch of kids in his whole life! Shame on your parents! Double shame on your shizuns!”

            “Shizun should know, Huan Hua has been asked to give aid in the treatment and eradication of the plague that is sweeping through the city,” Luo Binghe offered, a single glance over his shoulder getting the other disciples to silence and stand up straight at once. “We were just finishing this one off.”

            “Ah, the power of a darkened Luo! So scary!”

            “Wait,” Shen Qingqiu found himself saying, his eyes catching on a streak of red against Luo Binghe’s sleeve in a place where it looked like it had been sheered by a sword glare. “Did you come into contact with-“

            “I bet you’re overjoyed to hear he’s been infected, aren’t you,” one of the teenagers hissed, only to squeak when Luo Binghe rounded on them.

            Shen Qingqiu declined to comment. He was, for all intents and purposes, the lord of Qing Jing, a Master of Heaven, and above petty squabbles with teenage mob-minded followers who were unripened like a green tomato.

            Shen Yuan on the other hand, was thinking some very choice words.

            “It’s a minor injury,” Luo Binge said once the delinquent follower had been silenced. “If Cang Cong has come, surely Mu-shibo will be with them, and a cure will be found quickly.”

            “It is just so,” Shen Qingqiu confirmed, trying his best to seem unaffected as he swept past Luo Binghe, every instinct he had screaming “DANGER!” as he left his back open to make a show of  peeling back the fabric covering the creature’s one free arm to reveal a putrid scarlet skin.

            “Sowers, as I thought,” he hummed.

            “Hmph! Luo-shixiong had already surmised as much!” a pretty girl in gold said waspishly, crossing her arms as her long ponytail swayed behind her. Maybe one of the lesser wives? The little palace mistress was the primary one from the Huan Hua arc, but there had been a few others along the way. Mostly boring arcs meant to emphasize the power of Xin Mo.

            “All I have learned, I have learned from Shizun,” Luo Binghe said, shaking his head.

            Ugh, how he missed his little white bun! His little snow lotus who would say such things and truly mean them!

            “In any case,” Shen Qingqiu said, absently waving his fan in his off hand, “The clinic has requested that specimens be brought back for study. As you killed this one, may it be borrowed so Mu-shidi can begin crafting his medications to ease the epidemic quickly?”

            “Naturally, Shizun is right and wise,” Luo Binghe nodded. “I will see it taken there myself.”

            “…right then.” Shen Qingqiu flicked his sleeves and turned, trying very hard to appear natural as he all but fled the scene.

            Once outside, his breath caught, and his vision swam slightly.

            Luo Binghe was back. Luo Binghe was back early and Shen Qingqiu had walked into a trap array and wouldn’t be able to leave the city until Mu Qingfang had helped extrapolate a medicine. Leaving plenty of time for Luo Binghe to stage an accident or-

            He was only aware of the hyperventilating when he suddenly got black spots across his vision and pitched sideways into a wall.

            He was so fucked.

            He had told Yue-gege to stay behind, in spite of the fact that he had wanted to come on account of Shen Yuan’s wayward health scares, and now he was stuck with two lords who didn’t know the situation and a demon lord who was hell-bent on his death, in a place where he could not call for help from the two lords who did know about all the contingencies in place.

            And the rough stone of the wall was dragging against his aching arm, where the red stain of the sower rash was spreading with greater influence. If he told the others, they would no doubt expect him to sit as a test subject. He did not want to be one of Mu Qingfang’s experiments!!

            He managed to make his way to the makeshift clinic by the time he had put himself back in order, the mask of Immortal Master Shen sitting serenely on his face once more as he filed in and told Mu Qingfang of his discoveries, eyeing the poor burly men Liu Qingge had secured for testing as he did so.

            Yes, he would not be joining them.

            “And…” he hesitatingly added. “Luo Binghe has been seen in the city.”

            “That disciple of yours who you so mourned?” Mu Qingfang looked up at this, a curiosity in his eyes. “I thought he was felled by demons in the attack of the Immortal Alliance.”

            “It seems not. But he is to bring a sower here for your examination.”

            “Very good,” the doctor nodded. “Liu-Shixiong was just about to go gather some patients for testing.”

            “I’ll go with you to look for more,” Shen Qingqiu offered, moving to follow Liu Qingge as he prepared to leave, only for his equilibrium to fail him once again.

            “Shen-Shixiong?” Mu Qingfang asked. “Are you alright?’

            He reached out in his inner pathways, trying to direct energy to his palm, but only a faint tingling sensation greeted him when he flexed his hand.

            “Without-a-cure,” the doctor deduced, frowning. “Did you take your medications on time?”

            “I assure you, Mu-shidi, this Qingqiu has been faithful to his care plan,” the transmigrator bit out, surprised by the feeling of annoyance welling up inside himself. Of course… of course it would act up now. “Nevermind then… I will go back and rest. Liu-shidi, will you come find me when you return? I would like to discuss something with you.”

            “Sure,” Liu Qingge said before disappearing without any further prompting.

            With a brief farewell to Mu Qingfang, Shen Qingqiu made his way to the room he had been permitted to borrow for the time being. While it wasn’t any particularly luxurious accommodations, he felt like his limbs were turning to lead and he gratefully sagged against the door once it had closed behind him.

            “Liu Qingge, come back soon, don’t you remember you promised this martial brother your protection!”

            He tried to meditate, to let time become something he wasn’t aware of as he waited for the war god’s return, but it evaded him. The presence hanging over his mind in the shadows of Luo Binghe’s anger forbade him to truly release himself from the constraints of the mortal world. How long until he came? How long did Shen Qingqiu have until he intimately knew the sharp edges of the most demonic sword to ever challenge the Jianghu?

            …And what was taking Liu Qingge so long to come back?!

He grimaced as he straightened from the lotus position, his sleeve dragging angrily over his sensitive skin, and after some deliberation, Shen Qingqiu started to untie his belts. His hopes that it wouldn’t be too terrible died quickly as he slipped out of his layers of tops, until he was alone in his pants and boots, with a long, jagged line of red seeping up his arm.

            It looked… a lot worse than what he was expecting. And as the air hit it, he hissed with a new wave of itching, stinging sensation. The skin hadn’t yet started to decompose, so that was good, but with the way the center of the progression was looking, it wouldn’t be too much longer before the demonic necrosis set in.

            He sighed, gently prodding the edge, hissing as the pain spiked.

            …maybe he did need to go talk to Mu Qingfang…

           Just then, there was a light rap at the door, and Shen Qingqiu sighed in relief.

           “Liu-shidi, come in. I’ve been waiting for you all this time, what took you so long?”

           The door slammed open fast enough to splinter against the wall, revealing not Liu Qingge at all, but the smiling face of Luo Binghe.

           “Shizun?”

Chapter Text

            Shen Qingqiu had only a second where his breath was stolen away, Luo Binghe’s presence overwhelming. His curly hair caught the last rays of sun coming through the window, his dark eyes radiant even through the grey-cast of the barrier over the whole of Jin Lan, and his clothes fell around his shoulders in waves of gold and black.

            “Aiya, so cool!”

            And then, the panic set in.

            All reason left him, and he attempted to bolt. With a rather prominent obstacle blocking the door, Shen Qingqiu tried for the window, but a sharp pain raced up his leg as his foot got tangled in the messy pool of robes around his feet, the ankle twisting oddly. He had only managed to grab one of the heavier ones from the pile before the door had so abruptly opened! What bad luck, curse your shitty world, Airplane!!

            Before he hit the ground, a hand wrapped around his bicep, catching him.

            “Shizun should be more careful,” Luo Binghe purred. That blinding, soft smile still graced his lips, although the hand on his arm was tight. He had been turned, Luo Binghe now between him and both the window and door, blocking out all of Shen Qingqiu’s obvious escape routes.

            He was fucked either way, but damn if he didn’t try to weasel out of it now!

            “Release me,” he tried, thankful that his voice didn’t quiver at the command. “What are you doing, barging in here?”

            “I knocked,” Luo Binghe defended, as though that alone would make a difference. “Shizun left so quickly earlier, I hardly had the chance to greet him. And when I brought the sower as promised, I was informed that Shizun was unwell, so I thought to check on him.” He paused then, his eyes flicking downward. “Perhaps it is good that I did.”

            “Good for what?” Shen Qingqiu hissed, surprising even himself as he yanked his arm away, angling to hide the spreading red stain from eyes that no longer seemed quite human. “What good can come from such as you?”

            “From one such as me? Does Shizun refer to the knowledge that was revealed when last we met? Shizun once told me that Heaven would judge a soul based on it’s heart, not its blood. Was that a lie?”

            “Then what does your heart say, Luo Binghe, hm?” Shen Qingqiu could feel his teeth pulling back in a snarl, and he couldn’t will them to stop any more than he could with the words pouring from his mouth. “What horrid wants lie in your heart? Is this a good moment for you? To know that this city will fail on its own if all you do is stand by and watch? That even now your victims fall so simply?”

            “No,” Luo Binghe growled, his eyes flashing red in earnest. “That is not what I want.”

            “No, it wouldn’t be, would it? Personal pains beget personal vengeances. A little beast like you would wish to commit those with your own hands, I’m sure.”

            “…is that truly what Shizun thinks of the demon race? Of this Luo Binghe? That I would rampage and pillage simply because of that half of my lineage?”

            Shen Qingqiu finally managed to get his mouth back under control, clamping down and remaining silent, even as his throat fought to make sound. He really did, Binghe, but only because he had already gotten to see the path that they were walking to the end! He didn’t know where it was coming from! Hello?! What the fuck, body?!?

[SJR Initiation…35%]

[Companion Mode Update in Progress…5%]

            “Now is not the time, System!! Knock it off!!!”

[SJR Initiation has been activated by Companion Character ::YUE QINGYUAN::. Please hold while updates are in progress.]

            “Well then stop it! I am busy with important things here!!!”

[Host User cannot reject Companion Character purchases, thank you for your understanding!]

            “Even now, Shizun will not speak to me?” Luo Binghe asked, an edge of anger sharpening his voice as he stepped closer, corralling Shen Qingqiu against the back wall of the room. “I had thought Shizun was past such distastes for me, but perhaps I was wrong. He seems to carry no qualms for hypocrisy, after all.”

            “…Do not presume to know this Master’s mind.” How could he answer such an accusation!? He didn’t care that you were a demon, Binghe, he just couldn’t tell you that he’s known your course from the start!

            “Shizun…” Binghe’s eyes flashed and Shen Qingqiu barely managed to dodge out of the way before the half-demon’s hand made contact with the wall right where his head had been, the stone cracking under the force. With his single robe so loose, the air caught the collar as well, and it became trapped between flesh and stone, Shen Qingqiu turning through his hasty fall and slipping out of the sleeves to skid across the floor, his movements elegant even as he ran away.

            Xiu Ya found his fingertips easily, and its blade drew clean from it’s sheath, moving with him as he straightened to direct its power back towards the boy in the other corner. Even its usually radiant glow seemed to be dimmed by the aura of the city, and Shen Qingqiu felt something tumultuous in his heart.

            “Do not make this difficult, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu asked, his voice a deadly calm. “This Master has told no one of the events that transpired. There does not need to be conflict between us.”

            “Yet you draw your sword.”

            “You attacked me, what else am I to do but defend?”

            Luo Binghe had started towards him again, but stopped at this. Something flitted across his fine features, there and gone too quickly for Shen Qingqiu to decipher its meaning.

            “Your arm.”

            Shen Qingqiu angled himself again, positioning the arm with the thick rash behind him once again.

            “It is nothing.” His sword pulsed with a thin line of spiritual energy, one that quickly faded until the sword held almost no light at all. Shen Qingqiu didn’t have any left to give it, after all.

            “Again, Shizun dismissed this Binghe so coldly. But this humble one wonders, between Shizun and I, which would the famed Xiu Ya yield to first?” A swirling ball of demonic energy appeared over Luo Binghe’s hand, the threat clear.

            And Shen Qingqiu had no doubts- when it came to matters of spiritual strength, Luo Binghe would beat him in every way, even if Without-a-cure weren’t blocking his meridians. Even a single strike would likely shatter his beloved sword.

            “Please don’t do this,” Shen Qingqiu murmured, his heart trembling. His thoughts went to Yue-gege, waiting for him to return from what was supposed to be a simple mission, something the sect leader had suggested himself. A man who looked at him and saw two friends, and mourned one so grievously already.

            If Shen Yuan died here, Yue Qingyuan would never forgive himself.

            But Luo Binghe did not answer him, instead making his move forward. Shen Qingqiu reacted on instinct, Xiu Ya moving in his hand, commanded by a body Shen Qingqiu felt detached from entirely. But the spiritual blast never came, and instead Luo Binghe caught the blade with his hand, a sharp smattering of red flying through the air as it split the skin of his palm.

            “Shizun speaks of pain for pain and what this wretched disciple’s heart wants?” Luo Binghe asked, easily twisting Xiu Ya out of Shen Qingqiu’s grasp. “Then let Shizun be the first to give his just reward.”

            And with that, a heavy, solid punch rammed into Shen Qingqiu’s middle, driving all the air from him. In the same beat, long fingers found their way into his hair and suddenly, something heavy and wet was pressed to his lips, and the taste of iron filled his mouth with disgusting quickness.

            “Do not swallow! I absolutely cannot swallow this!”

            But Luo Binghe was smarter than that, and held firm against him until the need for breath overwhelmed the need to fight and with a burning gasp, the wave of blood parasites swept into him. He tried to cough them back out, but Luo Binghe covered his mouth again, his blood pouring in and the parasites already within wiggling to get him to swallow.

            They burned on the way down.

            “Don’t worry, Shizun,” Luo Binghe murmured kindly. “Even though heavenly demon blood is a filthy thing, it won’t kill you.”

            Something clawed its way up inside him, and there was a flash of blue across his vision.

            And then the world fell sideways, and all went black.

***

            He was alone when he awoke, the weak light of dawn dripping over the windowsill, with the shambles of his borrowed room put back into place as though there had hardly been a fight there at all, and he laid on the simple bed that had been ignored the night before.

            “What happened?”

            As soon as he was cognizant of somehow being not dead, nausea rolled through him. There was a wiggling feeling under his skin, like ants crawling through his veins as Luo Binghe’s blood parasites wormed around. Oh yeah.

            “What hellish intent does he have for me now? Why didn’t he kill me when he had the chance?”

            “Master Shen! Master Shen!” came a boy’s voice, just as a cheer suddenly went up outside, the sudden noise making him bolt upright in the bed. “It’s over! Mu-daozhang has made the elixir and it works!”

            His head felt like it was pounding out of his skull, but he managed to pull himself from the bed. He noted he had at some point found the ties for his robe, and the others had been gracefully draped over a chair to avoid wrinkling, and his hair was still tidy enough in its crown.

            Huh.

            “Excellent news,” he answered, opening the splintered door instead of pondering on the semantics of that particular line of questions further. “This Master will be down to help with the exit shortly.”

            The boy from the underground waterway ran off, yelling about going to bother Liu Qingge once more, and Shen Qingqiu slipped back into the room.

            The room Luo Binghe had broken into the night before.

            The room Luo Binghe had then cleaned??

            He scratched at his arm, then paused. His heart beat for a moment or two before he was scrambling to pull up the sleeve, staring at the pale, unblemished skin waiting beneath the silk.

            The plague rash was gone? Ah, no doubt a side effect of the blood- Luo Binghe wouldn’t let him rot apart before he’d had the chance to finish playing whatever game he was setting up. Of course he’d be able to use the grand effects of his protagonist halo and power to manipulate the situation to his liking.

            The people of the city seemed to have come back from the dead, joy radiating as they congregated to receive the medicine Mu Qingfang had devised, and within an hour, the gray-light haze of the quarantine barrier lifted from around the city walls.

            “You look awful,” Liu Qingge said when Shen Qingqiu found him by the gates, Mu Qingfang not far off. “I was out all night catching patients and sowers, didn’t you sleep at all?”

            “Did you take-“ Mu Qingfang started.

            “I took my medications,” Shen Qingqiu interrupted, his head splitting as the raw daylight descended once more. “I’m fine.”

            “That disciple of yours…” Liu Qingge started. “What’s happened to him?”

            “What do you mean?” Shen Qingqiu asked, his pulse kicking up a notch.

            “He caught five more sowers last night. I only corralled two.”

            “Less than three years and he’s already outstripping Liu Qingge. What would he have been like if he’d taken the proper five?!”

            There was a sudden commotion in the crowd, and they parted as the gates opened, the grand regalia of Huan Hua palace cutting through the dirty masses like a hot knife. Shen Qingqiu did not miss the way Luo Binghe immediately moved to stand next to the palace master, who in turned looked on the boy like a prized future son.

            Nor did he miss the way that Luo Binghe was continuing to stare at him, a strange glint to his gaze.

            “Master Shen!” suddenly came a cry from an iron box sitting to the side of the congregation. “Master Shen, be merciful! We only did as you asked! You promised we would be successful!!”

            “Why are you calling me?!”

            A murmur rippled through the assembled group, several other cultivators throwing him looks of confusion and suspicion.

            “What’s that?” Shen Qingqiu asked, leaning into Mu Qingfang’s ear.

            “The sower cage,” came the bewildered answer.

            “Master Shen! Shen Qingqiu!” cried the sowers, their wails pitiful.

            “Clearly, they hope to incite an argument among ourselves to create an opportunity to escape,” he dismissed with a wave of his fan. “Such methods will not work.”

            “An accusation of such scale ought to be heard,” the Old Palace Master said, shaking his head. “How else would they know your name?”

            The murmurs of the crowd grew louder.

            “The world is wide and the names of the heavens travel far,” Shen Qingqiu deflected. “They may as well have chosen Mu Qingfang, or Liu Qingge, or even one among your own.”

            “Ah, but they have not. And if such a rise were to be true, naturally the people of Jin Lan city would be entitled to their justice.” The Old Palace master nodded sagely, the cries of the harried plague survivors growing in pitch. “It is only right that such things be carried with the full weight, for the rights of our constituents.”

            “Peak Lord Shen has not left the sect in several months,” Mu Qingfang stated. “And his days there are spent in regular council with the Sect Leader. Surely Huan Hua would not claim that Cang Qiongis in the habit of conspiring with demons.”

            “Of course not,” the old man dismissed. “But surely not every moment can be spent by his side. Event he great minds of Heaven must rest at some point. And with such rumors of unsavory character, how could we not take such an accusation seriously?”

            “And what unsavory act am I said to have ordained?” Shen Qingqiu asked haughtily, his fan flicking sharply.

            “How disgraceful, for such a supposedly peerless master to treat his disciples with a level of unkindness so profound! Even we at Huan Hua have heard the tales of Qing Jing’s sorrows. What cold heart as that might find fellows in darker realms, hm?”

            Shen Qingqiu bristled, his eyes sliding over to where Luo Binghe was still watching him with that sharp gaze, an otherwise placatingly blank look on his features. “And what disgusting character saves the children in his care with the sacrifice of his own cultivation and physical wellbeing?”

            “Shizun would not consort with demons,” the half-demon said while maintaining direct eye contact. “He would rather throw them back to Hell than to permit them to sully his presence.”

            Shen Qingqiu’s fan shut abruptly. “Wow. He sure learned how to strike right where it hurts.”

            “Luo Binghe, do you speak as a disciple of mine, or as a member of the Huan Hua Palace?”

            “Ah, so after all this time, Lord Shen is willing to reclaim this boy?” The Old Palace Master was two snarky comments from Shen Yuan slapping him, political consequences be damned.

            “You speak as though I ever dismissed him,” Shen Qingqiu said pointedly. “I have never struck him from the records of Cang Qiong sect, nor have I disparaged his position as my head disciple. By all accounts, he remains as he ever has.”

            “Then why did he not return to your sect once he was well enough to travel?”

            “Why indeed? I was not there, and I cannot speak for him when it comes to his own experiences. But the fact remains that he has always had a home to return to. It cannot be faulted to the sect that he never chose to claim it.”

            The sharp look in Luo Binghe’s eyes seemed to shift, and for the first time since the encounter had begun, he looked like things might not be running the way he had intended.

            “You told everyone he had died.”

            “I said that I had seen him fall.”

            “Luo Binghe is well loved by his martial siblings and his Shizun,” Liu Qingge interjected randomly. “He even brought back- ow!”

            “Pardon me, Liu-shidi,” Shen Qingqiu said as he straightened from where he had “accidentally” stepped on his foot, flicking his fan back open. “I am still recovering from my qi blockages.”

            “DO NOT EMBARRASS ME HERE!!”

            For all that he had been willing to play Luo Binghe’s staring contest, he now found himself looking anywhere else. Luo Binghe did not need any extra reasons to resent him! Really Binghe, Zheng Yang wasn’t like some kind of fucked up murder memento, Shizun promised!

            “Are you Shen Jiu?” a woman’s voice suddenly asked. “Is it really you?”

            “Oh no,” he thought, his fan ticking faster. “She’s not supposed to be here! This isn’t supposed to happen yet!!”

            “It is you!” the woman said as she pushed though the crowd. “I would never forget that face!”

            “Shen-shixiong,” Mu-Qingfang said. “You are acquainted with this woman?”

            “Acquainted?” The woman scoffed. “We are more than acquainted. This man, who stands here so dignified, was a member of my household after my parents rescued him from unsavory characters. And I,” she strode straight up to him with a furious expression. “I am his wife!”

            “Shen-shixiong?” Mu Qingfang asked.

            “You’re married?” Liu Qingge asked, disbelief coloring his tone.

            “I don’t know whether to be offended that you would listen to her after all the effort I’ve put into farming PR points with you, or that you’re so shocked I might be marriage material!”

            “Yes, make no mistake,” the woman, Qiu Haitang, said. “He is not nearly who he would present himself to be! And his deplorable character goes far beyond unkindness to children. This man, this beast, is a murderer!”

            Outraged cries went up from the crowd.

            “Its true!” Qiu Haitang continued. “My brother released him from his role as a servant, and arranged for us to be betrothed. But when a traveling cultivator came through town hoping to find a disciple, Shen Jiu went to him. He said he had potential, so he asked us to release him from our engagement! My brother denied him, and in return for all the love and kindness we had given him throughout the years, Shen Jiu repaid it that very night- by murdering him with his own blade!”

            Gasps rang out, and those who before had seemed as though they would be willing to listen to Shen Qingqiu’s side were rapidly decreasing.

            “And if that were not enough! Once my brother lay dead at his feet, like a dog tasting blood for the first time, Shen Jiu took that blade and killed all the other servants and set the whole of our estate ablaze before running off with that dog, Wu Yanzi! I have searched for so many years hoping for this day- for the day that I finally am able to confront you and bring justice to my family’s name!”

            “You have no proof,” Liu Qingge growled, stepping forward. “Even I know when words are just words!”

            “And our Sect Leader is not present to discuss such wild accusations,” Mu Qingfang said much more calmly. “Naturally, the street is no place to hunt for a verdict on authenticity.”

            “Well, we cannot let him simply wander away,” said the Old Palace Master with a clearly false air of consideration. “Let Cang Qiong show some consideration for things, and turn him over to Huan Hua Palace until we are all able to meet and discuss any evidence and testimony in person together.”

            “You dare-!” Liu Qingge started before Shen Qingqiu interrupted.

            “Its fine.” Eyes turned to him in shock. Not surprisingly, given the rumors of the infamous Water Prison, but Shen Qingqiu already felt like his brain was about to pop like a grape and he wasn’t particularly interested in dealing with the fallout that would come from such an open display of violence as the war god was no doubt gearing up for. “This Shen Qingqiu has no need to run, but if it will soothe the Palace Master’s mind, he will accompany his group back to their grounds. Liu Qingge,” he turned, removing Xiu Ya and handing it over to the war god. “Please go back first and inform Zhangmen-shixiong of the developments here. I will wait for his arrival under the observation of Huan Hua.”

            “Qingqiu,” Mu Qingfang muttered, stepping closer. “You are clearly unwell.”

            “Then Mu-shidi ought to encourage Zhangmen-shixiong to be expeditious, so that I may pay a visit to Qian Cao in good time.”

            “I promised-“

            “The situation has changed,” Shen Qingqiu said, shaking his head as a pair of Huan Hua disciples brought out a blaringly crimson set of immortal binding cables. “I have the talismans and the qi-pills. I’ll be fine for now.”

            “I will go with you then!” He stepped closer, a determined look entering his gaze. If it were any other situation, Shen Qingqiu might have even felt moved that Mu Qingfang seemed to care so much about ensuring his health and well-being.

            “You are needed here to help craft the medicine for the city,” the transmigrator dismissed. “That is more important.”

            “I’m going,” Liu Qingge said, mounting Cheng Luan. “You won’t be there long.”

            “I can manage,” Shen Qingqiu said, wrestling with the feeling of panic welling under his ribs. “Go, this one will be fine.”

            “You had better be,” Mu Qingfang said displeased before moving back as Shen Qingqiu was led away.

            He was led out of the gate to an overly-ornate carriage with whirling gold filigree and silk cushions that probably each cost as much as a whole year’s worth of inkstones for An Ding, and forced himself not to start crying or hyperventilating as he was followed up by none other than Luo Binghe.

            The boy said nothing, simply continuing to give him that odd, searching stare. Who knew what weakness he would try to exploit to bring pain this time.

            This was going to be a long ride…

Chapter Text

            It appeared he was at an impasse with Luo Binghe.

            At first, it seemed like he would truly be left to rot with the binding cables that tied him until his trial, but after only a few hours, a young woman had entered his little corrosive island, a sneer on her lips and a whip in her hand.

            They hadn’t hit it off.

            “It is improper behavior,” Luo Binghe had said once she had been dismissed, shrugging out of his own black outer robe to tie it around Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders. Even with a persistent wiggle, he couldn’t shake it off. “This Luo Binghe will see to it that she is disciplined properly.”

            Save it for a blushing maiden, Binghe! This master isn’t that repulsive, surely!

            “…” Shen Qingqiu held his silence, ducking his head and trying to ignore the fact that he did feel a little better once he was covered up again.

            Luo Binghe was staring at him, he could feel the powerful gaze drilling into his cheek. What was he looking for? He already knew Binghe was angry! He would have a very hard time forgetting it! And his altercation with the palace master’s daughter had left him backed towards the corner. It would be too easy for Binghe to simply push him over and be done with it, and not even his scummy, rotten bones would be left.

            There was a puff of breath against his profile, almost as though Luo Binghe had been prepared to say something and suddenly thought better of it. With a sigh, the half-demon stood and left the platform, Shen Qingqiu staring after him in confusion.

            “That’s all?”

            After his first day in the water prison the half-demon was the only person who entered the platform from beyond the moat of mysterious acid. He had brought Shen Qingqiu his evening meal in silence, a few steamed buns that he could eat without needing his bindings untied, and then stared at him some more before leaving once again.

            “That’s all????!”

            But it seemed that no, that wasn’t all, because within a short period of time Shen Qingqiu found his head growing fuzzy, and his eyes heavy, and he oh so slowly slipped to the side, sprawling out as much as his restrictions would let him in the center of the platform.

            “Ah, so he elected for poison. Still better than being dismembered, I guess. It doesn’t hurt at all…”

            And with that quiet thought, Shen Qingqiu slipped into the darkness.

***

            He was sitting on a dock. The breeze ruffled through his hair and his billowing sleeves, the scent of rain and marigolds on the air, sunset kissing the horizon in the distance.

            He knew this place, once. The memory was thin through the haze, but he used to come here quite often, he thought. He must have, for it to give him such a feeling of peace. But something seemed different… hadn’t there been a house on the other side of the lake? A nice house… brick, maybe. Or maybe not? He couldn’t remember quite what it had looked like.

            The water was beautiful, though, and he stared down, a face that was his-but-wasn’t staring back.

            A little fish with black and orange stripes along its fins swam in happy circles, and when it bubbled up against the surface, the ripples danced with its colors. Once they settled, there was another face behind him.

            Shen Qingqiu turned where he sat, looking up at the carefully neutral face surrounded by bounding curls. Wasn’t this face handsome? Something was missing though…

            “Hello,” he said softly.

            “Hello Shizun,” the young man replied, before looking around, his green and white robes dancing in the soft breeze. “What is this place?”

            “I don’t quite remember,” Shen Qingqiu answered honestly. After all, if he was this young man’s Shizun, it was important to set good examples. There was no shame in the simple truth. “I think I used to come here with my family in the summer, but… no… no, that isn’t right. I’m an orphan.”

            “You are?” the boy asked, his eyes widening slightly.

            “I think so?” Shen Qingqiu tilted his head, and a building appeared on the other side of the lake, made of stone and lacquered wood. It was a house- a fine house, even- but not the one he had been thinking of earlier. Maybe he had gotten it wrong?

            “Who lives over there?” the boy asked.

            “The Qiu’s,” came the immediate, cold answer.

            He was a bit surprised by the venom, but it felt right. Almost as though the hazy world agreed, a yellow light started to flicker behind the windows. That was right, that house had burned down, and it was a good thing. He remembered that much, at least.

            Shen Qingqiu and the boy watched in silence as the fire spread until the whole structure was ablaze. Neither of them moved to rush for help.

            “What about Shizun’s wife?” his student asked.

            “I don’t have a wife,” he answered. “At least… I don’t remember getting one. But I don’t remember getting a teaching license either, so maybe I’m wrong.”

            “Shizun doesn’t remember becoming this one’s teacher?” The boy seemed to come to a decision about something, stepping closer and taking a seat next to Shen Qingqiu. “Not anything?”

            “I remember…” he paused, and the water around them rippled all at once, shifting between green and blue. “I remember…drawing. I was drawing something.” In the distance, thunder rolled. “I was scared, but if I could just… I don’t remember. But I woke up, and my friend was there. But I… I lost something.”

            “We both did,” his voice came, slightly from the other side.

            His student turned, leaning over the wharf to look down into the water at their reflections. His matched perfectly, but Shen Qingqiu’s seemed like it was almost running on a delay. He blinked, and they were in sync again.

            He must be imagining things.

            “I do remember something,” Shen Qingqiu finally said, breaking the silence. “I have another student, maybe you know him?”

            “Who’s that?” the young man asked.

            “His name is Binghe,” Shen Qinqiu said, feeling a bright smile stretch across his lips as he looked up into the pearlescent clouds above them. “He’s amazing. Ah, not to say you’re not! I’m sure you do amazing! All my students are so talented! But… Luo Binghe… he’s the best. He’s so special, and so sincere. I know he’s going to be… I’m just really proud of him.”

            The young man looked at his teacher, a strange emotion in his eyes.

            “Ah, sorry, it’s bad form for a teacher to play favorites. But look at you! A strong and handsome young man like you, surely you’re out taking the world by storm already! When Binghe gets old enough to start tackling things on his own, promise this Master that you’ll look out for him, alright?”

            “How old is your Binghe?” the young man asked, tilting his head.

            “Oh gosh… he was fourteen when I woke up? And then I had a period of personal seclusion, and then he-“ Shen Qingqiu paused, his shoulders drooping. The sun sunk behind the clouds and lightning struck through the sky as the rain finally started to fall, the clouds above rapidly turning gray, and then a roiling black.

            “Shizun?” the young man asked, his white and green robes staining black where the raindrops hit him. “What’s wrong?”

            “…Where is Luo Binghe?” Something was wrong. Something about this was very, very wrong!

            Shen Qingqiu watched as the water started to steam, a tell-tale red and yellow light flickering from deep in the lakebed, his breath coming quicker as he scrambled back from the edge. Suddenly, the last of the water steamed off and the fire of the Abyss crackled to life, the scent of smoke and resentment thick on the once floral air, the marigolds going up like matchsticks.

            “What have I done?” Shen Qingqiu whispered, tucking himself back against a large boulder, his shoulders shaking as he gripped at his hair. “What have I done?!”

            “Shizun!”

            “Why?” Shen Qingqiu whispered, unheeding of the young man rushing to his side with panic in his gaze. “Binghe is a good boy… I didn’t- I could have just asked! Binghe would do anything to be obedient, I didn’t have to- but Binghe is the best, of course he’ll be fine, he’s Binghe but- oh god, he’s going to be so angry. I ruined it. He’s a good boy! He’s a demon! But he’s a good boy and I don’t deserve to be his Shizun! He’s a demon, he shouldn’t have been my student to begin with. It was right to send him away. He was a boy, he didn’t do anything wrong. He’s going to kill me… and I’ll deserve it. I’m a monster, god, I still managed to be the scummiest villain there is, what am I going to do?!”

            “Shizun!”

            The haze of the world sharpened. The lake was gone, as well as the dock, but the fire remained, spreading down the quiet slopes of Qing Jing Peak, the scent of resentment thick on the air where smoke curled through the paths of Cang Qiong.

            “What have I done,” Shen Qingqiu whispered, pulling away from where Luo Binghe had grabbed him, stumbling and falling back into the burnt earth. The Heavenly Demon’s robes had turned to a rich, vibrant black, and the light of his red demonic huadian burned bright against his stark, pale face. “Binghe… please… I’m sorry. I didn’t want to, I swear! I’m sorry!!”

            Thunder roiled and lightning crashed, fire burned all around them just as it had before, and Shen Qingqiu shook on the ground.

            “Shizun,” Luo Binghe called, reaching out for him, and Shen Qingqiu felt something in his core tug violently as his own hands moved of their own accord, grabbing his disciple by the wrist and yanking so that their positions were swiftly reversed.

            “I’m not your Shizun,” his lips said with a sneer, and he cried out internally as his hands threw Luo Binghe back towards the burning bamboo, and Shen Qingqiu's body tipped over the side of the mountain.

            He opened his mouth to scream, and then, the world went black.

Chapter Text

            This wasn’t how the story was supposed to happen, he was sure of it.

            Yue Qingyuan prided himself on his diplomacy. His teacher had taken great pains to ensure that he was as polite and refined as any lord, if not a prince, and that his genial smile never wavered. He had been taken from a street rat with a stupid grin to an epitome of grace, with knives or sweetness waiting to be sheathed in every word that needed them. A boy worth less than nothing to the greatest Lord of all Heaven, the peak of the peaks, the strongest immortal cultivator in his whole generation.

            He was, as far as the masses were concerned, the closest they would ever come in their mortal lives to encountering the Heavenly Emperor Himself.

            He was ready to throw that image out the window if it meant he could rip the old palace master’s lying, sleazing teeth out of his face.

            Shen Qingqiu, consort with demons? Clearly a lie. Shen Qingqiu, being perverse with his female disciples? The man abhorred the children as Shen Jiu, and Shen Yuan would never. Now there were little voices popping up out of every corner, it seemed, whispering of the vile, unredeemable things his shidi, of either variety, had done.

            Absolutely preposterous.

            And! And!!! That overripened, wrinkled, pompous, gold-leafed leech had the gall to deny him visitations! To his own sect member! After two days of sitting in the man’s office with Liu Qingge by his side, a smooth smile on his face, and chilling tea cupped between his hands, and some iteration of “Sect Leader Yue surely understands-” something in him finally cracked.

            “I didn’t take Zhangmen-shixiong to be the underhanded type,” Liu Qingge said as they crept through the woods.

            “Liu-shidi is welcome to reflect on how the straightforward path has treated us in this endeavor thus far,” Yue Qingyuan sniped back, watching the two Huan Hua disciples they were tailing turn towards a cave. “Shen-shidi cannot be permitted to stay here.”

            It had been easy enough to put smiles to the right people, to sus out who among the golden prodigies was the most in line with what he was looking for. Gongyi Xiao had been polite enough, and had just enough edges to smooth over into good graces after speaking with him about his performance at the alliance conference and his successes ever since.

            It seemed that before their common problem arrived at Huan Hua, the little Gongyi had been the favorite pick for succeeding disciple. It was easy to pick among a few small truths to share, about himself, about his sect, about his dear Shen-shidi, and the boy made a face of extreme deliberation before making a quiet agreement to assist him.

            “A good man obeys the laws of the heavens before the laws of man,” he had said as he handed over Shen-shidi’s personal effects. “I’ll make an excuse to visit Lord Shen while Luo Binghe is busy assisting the palace master. He’s already taken Lord Shen his dinner for the evening, so he shouldn’t have a reason to come back until he brings breakfast tomorrow.”

            “This Lord is in Disciple Gongyi Xiao’s debt,” had been the response, and they had hashed out a quick plan to pantomime retiring for the evening and circle around to wait in the trees.

It was a bit more underhanded than he would have liked, but in matters concerning the security and longevity of his martial siblings, Yue Qingyuan would take no short measures. Just as the gold-clad pair made way to enter the cave, the boy turned to his partner, feigned panic, and pointed with a shout, and Liu Qingge emerged, quickly knocking the other boy out.

            “You’re sure you know the way?” Yue Qingyuan asked, slipping out of the woods behind them.

            “I do,” their little turncoat answered, laying his comrade up against the opening of the cavern. “This way, quickly. I don’t want to risk being caught.”

            They followed him down into the depths of the earth, the air turning cold and musty, and they wandered around the maze of catacombs for what felt like ages. Part of him wanted to confirm that their guide knew where he was going again, but he knew that if he expressed too much doubt, it could affect the boy’s willingness to assist.

            He needn’t have worried.

            They entered a space filled with an astringent smell, and the heat of the humidity ticked up, steam wafting off the otherwise glassy surface of an off-green lake with a stone platform in the center.  And there, trussed like a prized pig and draped in a black outer robe that was clearly not his own, was the corpse of Shen Qingqiu.

            Or, at least, that was the initial fear that coated Yue Qingyuan’s mind. Shen Qingqiu looked pale, as though he had persisted in the caverns for months instead of just over a day, and he laid unnaturally still on the stone, slid over haphazardly as though he had fallen rather than laid of his own accord.

            It was unsuitable.

            Yue Qingyuan did not wait for the steps to finish rising from the strange pool of liquid before rushing over them and taking stock of his friend’s situation.

            “Didi, can you hear me?” he asked, sliding a hand up around his neck to find his pulse fluttering and weak. “Didi? It’s me, Yue-gege. I’ve come to bring you home.”

            The man in his arms groaned, his face pinching slightly, and Yue Qingyuan sighed.

            “We have to go,” he said, turning to look up at Liu Qingge. “If he stays like this he’ll need Mu Qingfang.”

            “You carry him. I’ll need my hands if we run into trouble,” Liu Qingge answered with a nod and helped him remove the immortal binding cables and arrange Shen Qingqiu on Yue Qingyuan’s back.

            It took all his will to not scream when he saw the state of his shidi’s clothes under the black robe. Shen Qingqiu, Yuan or Jiu, would never have allowed such treatment of his person. If he ever got confirmation of which person in Huan Hua had dared to lay hands on him with such clearly vile intentions, he would rip out their eyes and shove them down their throat so they could watch him tear their carcass open with his bare fucking hands. Even if that someone was Luo Binghe.

            Maybe especially if it had been Luo Binghe.  

            It felt like it took even longer to return to the surface, the dead weight of Shen Qingqiu against his back the only thing he could focus on as he put one foot in front of the other.

            He was frankly surprised that there was no one waiting at the mouth to ambush them. But all that greeted their exit was the slumped form of the boy Liu Qingge had knocked out, with a sleeping talisman stuck inelegantly on his face.

            “Alright, kid, your turn,” Liu Qingge said, shaking out his wrist slightly. “Turn around, I’ll make sure you don’t fall too hard.”

            “And if anyone asks, we never spoke,” the boy confirmed.

            “I’ve never seen this disciple before, save for the conference,” Yue Qingyuan confirmed. “No one will learn anything from us.”

            The boy nodded, and turned around, letting Liu Qingge make a precise shot to the back of his neck and he crumpled like paper. They stacked him next to his sect sibling, stuck a sleep talisman to his forehead, and took off though the trees, staying on the ground until they had passed into the outer region of the sect proper before alighting on their swords, and taking off into the night.

            It didn’t take as long as Yue Qingyuan would have hoped for them to hear the alarm bells going up behind them.

            “Keep going,” Liu Qingge called over the wind. “Someone’s on our tail, I’ll handle it.”

            “But Liu-shidi-”

            “Go!” Liu Qingge yelled. “Get him back to Qian Cao! Leave this to me!”

            “Be careful!” he yelled, wishing his shidi all the strength in the world as he turned and put as much speed into his auxiliary sword as he could without risking them falling.

            This wasn’t how the story was supposed to happen.

***

The wind of Shen Qingqiu’s falling nightmare followed him into the waking world, where he thrashed against the person holding him, earning a yelp followed by the sense of veering to one side before righting.

            “ITS ME!” Yue Qingyuan yelled over the wind, grappling Shen Yuan’s hands back over his shoulders. “Didi, calm down or we’ll both fall!

            “Yue-gege?” he questioned, clinging tightly as he caught sight of the world far below, the stars twinkling on the horizon and a nearly full moon bright overhead. “What-?”

            “Hold on,” Yue Qingyuan ordered, dipping low towards the trees racing by beneath them as a qi glare ricochetted past. “We’re being pursued.”

            “What is going on?!” He yelled, clinging tighter as Yue Qingyuan performed a sword maneuver that had him temporarily upside down and spinning to avoid another strike.

            “I was hoping you could tell me!” And oh, that was new. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t think of a time when he’d heard Yue Qingyuan sound so… so angry. Even when he had found out that Shen Yuan had been brought into the picture, he had seemed more broken-hearted and resigned, but not this… this…

            “Didi.” The man’s hand tightened where it held onto him. “Answers. Why in the gods’ great wisdom did you go off with Luo Binghe by yourself!?”

            “I didn’t want to cause a scene!”

            “It’s a drama book! There’s nothing but scenes!” The hand pinched his skin hard enough to make him squeak. “So you just let yourself be whisked away instead of calling for help? You didn’t even send me a message in the qainkun box! I could have intercepted!”

            “There wasn’t any time!”

            “Then make some!” The man paused as he twisted them in the air, free falling for a long torturous moment as he flipped his auxiliary sword around to direct it to his hands, letting Xuan Su’s sheath settle under them instead, the speed of their flight dropping by a wide margin.

            “We’re going to have to land,” Yue Qingyuan muttered, just barely loud enough to hear over the rush of the skies. “We can’t hold enough in the air without Liu Qingge. The trees will make enough cover to evade.”

            “Xiu Ya?” Shen Qingqiu questioned as Yue Qingyuan released a volley of flairs and dove for the forest.

            “Here,” he answered, smoothly leaping off the sword and setting Shen Qingqiu down before extracting the shining silver blade from a qainkun bag at his side. “You should have kept it with you.”

            “I didn’t want to risk it getting locked up somewhere I couldn’t reach later,” Shen Qingqiu defended. “Where is Liu-shidi?”

            “Dealing with our little problem, no doubt,” Yue Qingyuan answered, stepping forward to tuck the slipping collars of Luo Binghe’s black outer robe closer. “And this… who-“

            “The palace mistress seemed to think that her rights were very vast indeed,” Shen Qingqiu said, a frown tugging at his lips. “Luo Binghe put this on me like some dude-bro offering his jacket to his girlfriend. It was… so awkward.”

            “Did he hurt you?” Yue Qingyuan asked, desperation coloring his voice as he stepped closer, grabbing him by the shoulders with a slight shake. “Has he done anything to you?”

            Shen Yuan hung his head, his hands drifting to brush against his throat. “He made me drink his blood.” He looked up at the other man. “He’ll be able to tell wherever I go. I won’t be able to get away from him.”

            “We’ll find a way,” Yue Qingyuan assured him, but Shen Yuan could feel doubt. “In the worst case, you have your mushroom body. If anything happens to you, I’ll make sure it stays safe until you come back.”

            “…yeah,” Shen Yuan agreed after a few seconds. Yue-gege was right. He had made plans! It was just the chaos and confusion from his dreams wearing off that was making him feel wrong-footed, like everything happening was just a few inches to the left of what he was expecting.

            It was nothing, surely. Just another episode of wandering.

            Nothing.

            “There’s a settlement not far off,” Yue Qingyuan said, grabbing his wrist and taking the lead. “If we can make it there before Luo Binghe catches up, then maybe we can negate his influence by mixing in with the others auras. He wouldn’t make a scene of things if he’s still fresh to the level of authority he holds with Huan Hua.”

            “Unless he feels it’ll be something he can cover up or manipulate to fit his situation,” Shen Yuan clarified. “Then we’re fucked.”

            “We’re in our territory now,” Yue Qingyuan said. “He may be bold, but I don’t think he’s stupid enough to try something like that here. Besides, I know someone who might be able to help get us through quietly.”

            They raced through the trees, Shen Qingqiu’s legs protesting at the sudden influx after spending days tied up with his qi suppressed. But the thought of Luo Binghe springing up behind him with that terrifying smile was enough to push himself a little further.

            Between the two of them, they were better able to handle the few Huan Hua cultivators who were close on their tail, leaving them unconscious under the leafy canopies as they slipped into the moderately sized settlement under the cover of night.

Unfortunately, that was also when Shen Qingqiu started feeling something crawling around in his innards, twisting through his body painfully. He stumbled, and Yue Qingyuan took his hand once again, dragging him away from the main street and into a dizzying labyrinth of alleyways, the sect leader weaving through the masses of unwashed children and begging cripples like it was second nature to him, dragging the lost Shen Qingqiu along as Luo Binghe’s blood parasites started to gnaw on him once more.

            “In here,” Yue Qingyuan hissed, pushing him through a door into a little hovel, closing the door behind them in a rush.

            “Who’s there?!” came a woman’s voice, and a lady slipped out from behind a curtained doorway, an old, beat-up pan in her hand. She looked ready to strike, her hair falling in wild curtains around her face as she moved to swing, only to pause at the height of the wind up. “Yue Qi? What are you doing here?!”

            “Sorry to barge in. Its an emergency,” Yue Qingyuan said, peeking out of the slats covering the rough-hewn window. “We’re shaking someone and we’ll be out before you know it.”

            “Wait… Xiao Jiu? Is that you?” the woman rounded on Shen Qingqiu and he immediately tried to shrink back against the door. “Wait… you’re not him. Yue Qi, who is this?”

            “We don’t have time, Mai-Jie,” Yue Qingyuan answered, stepping back from the window as someone rushed by outside. “We ran into a very strong demon. We need a quiet exit back towards the mountains.”

            “Yue Qi, you know I’m not supposed to do that anymore. Lang Fei will-“

            “I will give you and Lang Fei each fifty taels of silver and one favor with restrictions,” Yue Qingyuan interrupted. “People’s lives are in this, Mai-Jie. Please.”

            The woman looked between them and then back towards the door with a frown. “You know I don’t care about the money, Yue Qi.”

            “No, but Lang Fei will.” The sect leader stepped forward. “So let me give it to you, and we can all keep moving along.”

            Mai-Jie sighed, running a hand through her loose hair, and Shen Qingqiu tried to not stare at her as he grimaced in pain. He wouldn’t want her to think he was making such a sour face at her, after all.

            “Fine,” the woman finally agreed. “But I can’t promise that Lang Fei won’t ask for more. The guard has been sniffing around for us, Tsu Cheng has been acting up too, so the old route isn’t as safe as it used to be and if the cache gets found out, we’ll be done for.”

            “A hundred taels, and two favors with restrictions then,” Yue Qingyuan said decisively.

            “He should be good to deal with that.” And with that, the woman swept back the threadbare curtain in the doorway and Yue Qingyuan pulled him along after her, to where she pulled a small table to the side of the room and lifted up a small wedge in the floor to reveal a dark space under the floorboards.

            “Keep going on the usual west city circuit,” Mai-Jie instructed, dropping a rope ladder down into the hole. “Change to the Wuye track at the switchback and head up the sun route. It should open up to the rim on the far side of town.”

            “And if anybody asks, we were never here, and you never helped us.”

            “I’ve never seen you two before in my life,” Mai-Jie smiled. “And tell Xiao Jiu that the girls have a set for him next time he’s ready. He hasn’t been by in a while, even for him.”

            Yue Qingyuan stumbled slightly as he helped Shen Qingqiu slip down into the hole. “I’ll see about sending someone to pick it up. He’s been… unavailable, lately.”

            “You’re both such work addicts,” Mai-Jie sighed, patting his head as he slipped down. “Be careful, Yue Qi. Remember- the west side intersection isn’t cleared, you’ll have to go around.”

            “Up and over the red district path, I remember,” Yue Qingyuan said, and then they were both climbing down into the dark.

            “I am so confused,” Shen Qingqiu managed to say once the hole sealed over them and Yue Qingyuan had a small ball of light balanced on the tip of his finger.

            “Mai-Jie is part of our spy network,” Yue Qingyuan said simply, pulling him along. “She… she used to help take care of Shen Jiu and I when we were younger. She helps run a freedom route down here.”

            “Oh.” So this was like a secret underground railroad type of situation then.  

[Congratulations! Quest {{STORIES TOLD IN SILENCE (YUE QINGYUAN)}} …75% completed! New details added to the Companion Character Compendium!]

[+15 B-Points!]

[Companion Mode Update in progress: 95%]

[SJR Initiation…85%]

[Please continue to work hard and enjoy the camaraderie!]

            “What’s this initiation thing you started?” Shen Yuan asked after a long stretch of silence as he followed Yue Qingyuan through a series of tunnels that he couldn’t parse the rhyme or reason to.

            “What? Oh. It’s something the System spirit offered as a reward in exchange for one of the point groups it gave me. I don’t really know what it does, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to see. Why do you mention it?”

            “It’s been popping up in my notifications,” Shen Yuan explained, pausing to lean against the wall as the blood parasites twisted something up under his ribs. “It’s kind of distracting and the system won’t let me turn it off.”

            “Sorry, I can’t cancel it either. Almost to the switch, though,” Yue Qingyuan said, moving to pull Shen Yuan’s arm over his shoulder and hoist him up from the wall. “It’s going to be alright, Didi. We’re almost out.”

            “We need numbers if Luo Binghe has reinforcements.”

            “I already reached out to Shang-shidi before we extracted you,” Yue Qingyuan shared, helping him scrabble over a mid-rise wall in the middle of the path they were on. “He should be putting one of the contingencies into place. Which would have been an excellent thing for you to do as well.”

            “Yes, yes, I know, I fucked up the plan, I’m sorry, alright?”

            “I’ll forgive you when you don’t get killed by a demonic overlord.” The older man sighed, shifting the position he was supporting Shen Yuan with as the ground started to incline to a much steeper angle. “This part is slippery, be careful.”

            “Right…” Shen Yuan huffed, the throbbing of the blood parasites lessening slightly. “He’s not tugging so hard anymore.”

            “Good. Maybe he’s getting tired.” Yue Qingyuan huffed, and the little ball of light on his fingertip started to dim as a natural light cut through the darkness ahead. Eventually, through a series of progressively steeper switchbacks, the thin light of dawn cut through, and the pair stepped out onto a ridge overlooking the woods, with the city a fair distance away. “Do you think you can fly on Xiu Ya?”

            “Maybe,” Shen Qingqiu said, still feeling a little bit like he was either going to hurl or pass out. “But I think I need a minute.”

            “Hardly surprising, when Sect Leader Yue was so fine with interrupting Shizun’s rest,” a voice cut through and the two wheeled around to see Luo Binghe standing on the rocks over the underground catacombs they had just exited. With a simple swing of Xin Mo, the entrance crumbled, and the young half-demon hopped down over the wreckage, a whirling gaggle of Huan Hua cultivators closing in behind him. “He could not even be bothered to give a proper goodbye to his hosts. But then I suppose thieves rarely do.”

Chapter Text

            If he had thought that Luo Binghe was frightening in Jin Lan City, then he was terrifying now. He made no move to hide the red huadian pulsing on his forehead, and the sword in his hand was wrapped thick with demonic energy. The boy snapped, and like a bolt, there was a flash of gold and one of the Huan Hua lackies was behind Yue Qingyuan, a golden wire wrapped around his throat.

            “Tactical error!” Shen Yuan’s thoughts screamed. “We skipped the city and have no witnesses to try and use to force the situation! We were focused on Binghe and the others started moving in from behind!”

            “Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu tried. “Don’t be rash.”

            “Don’t be rash,” Luo Binghe repeated. “Shizun is always so calm when it suits him. But which is it? Is Shizun calm and collected, or is he temperamental and erratic? Is Shizun kind and understanding, or is he selfish and cruel? Shizun cannot be both, but every time I think I finally understand, he changes again! Which is it?!”

            “Binghe, its not that simple,” he said, backing away. But the cliff waited at the other side, and he dared not leave while Yue Qingyuan was unable to make a move to escape.

            “It is that simple.” Xin Mo rattled against its cross guard, and the scent of resentment began to thread through the air. “Either Shizun is good or he is not. Either Binghe is a treasured disciple or a little beast. Which is it? We cannot be both.”

            “Run, Didi,” Yue Qingyuan ordered. “Just go.”

            “So selfless,” Luo Binghe mocked.

            “Shen Qingqiu has a score with Huan Hua that we intend to settle,” one of the more burly looking lackies said, and a dozen more alighted on the rocky outcropping.

            “Shen Qingqiu will return to the water prison and wait for his trial,” Luo Binghe corrected, shooting the man a glare that left him to wilt.

           “When did Shen Qingqiu do something to make you so angry, huh?! I haven’t even SEEN a Huan Hua disciple since the Alliance Conference!!”

            “Shen Qingqiu isn’t going anywhere!” another voice joined in, and if Shen Qingqiu weren’t straight he would have kissed Shang Qinghua as he descended from on high, a fleet of Cong Qiang disciples in tow. “Huan Hua has proven they aren’t able to properly treat a member of the twelve peaks with the respect his position deserves, so he will be waiting for trial under house arrest on Qing Jing. And their disrespect even extends to our Sect Leader, for shame!”

            “Ah-ha! Look who was hiding a backbone under all those layers of whining and shitty writing! Airplane Bro, where have you been keeping such a bold persona??”

            From the other side, Liu Qingge raced in, Cheng Luan whistling through the sky as he banked to skid onto the ground in front of Shen Qingqiu, the sword quickly angling up towards the half-demon.

            “This doesn’t have to be a fight, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu tried again. “Just let us go.”

            His blackened bun’s eyes flashed red and a pit opened up under Shen Qingqiu’s ribs as the blood parasites began to tear through his insides again. “…no.”

            And with that, the chaos started.

            Yue Qingyuan moved first, something happening with the thin ring he wore on one hand and suddenly the garrot around him loosened. Blood still seeped from the wound but it was lax enough for him to turn and headbutt the man who had been holding him.

            The other lackeys engaged with his own group, and he was pretty sure he saw one punch Ning Ying Ying in the face, only for her to kick him in the groin and then put her knee through his nose. Luo Binghe made to move for Shen Qingqiu, but was intercepted by Cheng Luan. Xiu Ya spared him from one of the other lackies instead, coming up to parry a series of furious blows, struggling through the waves of pain emanating from his body.

            These were not like the little ducklings Luo Binghe had been trailed after by in Jin Lan City. These were strong cultivators, mid level core or higher, some even likely among the Hallmasters of Huan Hua’s ranks. Upper level fighters with years of experience under their belts.

            And it showed.

            It was quick to see that the Huan Hua cultivators had given chase with the scent for blood, and soon, the Cang Qiong division could also no longer afford to pull their shots. Shen Qingqiu was relying on muscle memory in no small part, and each time it seemed like he might be able to pause and take a breath, another fighter took the last one’s place. His disciples fought with fervor, but it was clear that many of them were outmatched, falling back down the ridge to try and get space amid the forest floor below, or falling entirely.

            “Shen Qingqiu!!!!” Luo Binghe yelled from where Liu Qingge had him blocked. “Answer me!”

            He had no spare breath to answer anyone’s cries, only enough to silence his own as the blood parasites started moving in what felt like opposing directions, slowly tearing him apart from the inside. It hurt, and he was sure that Liu Qingge’s constant distraction was the only reason Luo Binghe hadn’t used his advantage to make Shen Qingqiu completely black out.

            But even from such a point, things got worse.

            Xin Mo was a greedy sword, and it thrived on violence and chaos, Shen Qingqiu knew that, but he wasn’t prepared to brace himself against the sudden onslaught of demonic energy that ricochetted through the space, knocking Shen Qingqiu onto his back.

            “Is Shizun back to not speaking to me?” Luo Binghe said with a maniacal edge to his voice, the sword at his side pulsing with barely restrained power.

            “Binghe, you need to calm down!” Shen Qingqiu yelled over the din, barely managing to dodge one of the large Huan Hua brutes. It seemed like several of the key players had been knocked out to different parts of the impromptu ring, leaving only Luo Binghe, Liu Qingge, Yue Qingyuan, Shang Qinghua, and Shen Qingqiu amid the ring of bloodthirsty lackies.

            “He is to return to the prison,” Luo Binghe yelled as another swing barely missed Shen Qingqiu’s head. “Do not kill him!” His angered disciple snarled, striking out at one of the Huan Hua cultivators before they could angle at the peak lord a second time.

            Black qi radiated off of Luo Binghe, and suddenly, Shen Qingqiu came to an understanding. He wasn’t in control at all- it was Xin Mo calling for blood. Luo Binghe was clearly shaking, his eyes flashing red and his demon mark etching further through his skin than normal.

            “He’s going into a qi deviation, and it’ll probably blow the entire ridge off and the city to boot!”

            The world around him suddenly slowed to a crawl, and Shen Qingqiu felt like he could see every blade of grass and feel each iota of his being, a heat breaking through in his core like he had never felt before. His qi was surging again, like it had before each of his deviations, but the pain was absent, only the raw, pounding energy left to course through him.

            “What is this?”

[Companion Mode Update… Completed! Host and Host User… Synchronized!]

[Companion Character ::SHEN JIU:: Initiated!]

            “WHAT?!?!?!?!”

[Enjoy the camaraderie!]

            “You’re an insult to my name,” his own voice mocked from somewhere in his head. “Move with me, idiot, and use your own tools this time.”

            And he found his body moving, a flash of blue behind him as Xiu Ya whirled by, a hand encased in blue light wrapping around the hilt like it belonged there. His own (could they still be called his?) flexed, and he felt something settle like a forgotten weight in his hands- a set of two fan with whorls of inscriptions etched into the handles, the silks painted with strokes of bamboo and dragon scales, bursting with energy like twin spiritual blades of their own. And each spoke narrowed to a thin, vicious point.

            He turned, the tinted visage he had grown accustomed to seeing in the mirror looking back at him with enough disdain to poison the ocean and freeze over the Endless Abyss, and he wondered how anyone had ever been fooled that Shen Yuan might have been Shen Qingqiu.

            “Fight!” the voice he knew wasn’t his commanded, and with a flick of his wrist, the fan whipped out, Xiu Ya whirling by on another opponent and the scent of blood hit him full force. His body moved, brutal and efficient as he and the specter moved in tandem, sword and fan circling, streaking holographic blue and silky white-green through the field of battle until only one remained to charge aside from Luo Binghe himself.

            “Finish it!” Shen Jiu commanded, and Shen Yuan followed through, the silk of his fan cutting up from the left as Xiu Ya slashed down from the right. The specter twisted through the strike, whipping the sword around again and plunging it through the back of the man’s torso, Shen Yuan’s fan coming up to slit what remained of his jugular before the two forms of Shen Qingqiu stepped back to reset, Xiu Ya hovering next to a transparent hand forming a sword seal, and a bloody battle fan waving aridly in front of the other’s face.

            “What are you doing, waving that filthy thing around like an animal?”

            “…Shizun?” came a much more confused call, and both Shen Qingqiu’s turned to look at the vortex of sparking demonic energy that housed Luo Binghe.

            Lui Qingge had been thrown off at some point, the other peak lords in various states of sprawled out and clutching injuries, leaving the half-demon alone, but seemingly unable to rise.

            “He’s a filthy beast that can’t even hold its own sword. Finish it properly this time.”

            “I’m not going to hurt him!,” Shen Yuan exclaimed, watching the astral form sneer and flick its sleeve irritably.

            “Either you finish it, or I will.”

[Alert! Void Parameter! Reminding Host- Main Protagonist requirements must be met!]

            “Be silent little demon.”

[…Host will comply within Set Parameters or will initiate the Void of his System Contract and be reset to initial defaults. Please take some time to consider your options thoroughly.]

            And then the apparition of Shen Jiu made an offended face, began to reach out towards something, and dissolved in a smattering of blue sparks.

            “Shizun? What…?”

            “Shit. Xin Mo is still feeding off of him.”

            “It’s ok, Binghe,” Shen Yuan called stepping in closer, wincing as the energy calmed for a moment, only to return even stronger as it ripped at his skin like little shards of glass. Apparently, the gentle approach wasn’t the way to go, the young man’s face twisting up into a confused snarl as the storm picked up even faster. “It’s going to be alright.” He looked over his shoulder to where Yue Qingyuan was watching, and forced a smile to grace his lips.

            “System, what did SJR Initiation do?”

[SJR Initiation is an external reward for Companion Character ::YUE QINGYUAN:: that reinstates Character ::SHEN JIU/SHEN QINGQIU v.1:: as an active role with the Companion Character tag. Initiation is already complete and cannot be unequipped.]

            “Does the tag ‘Host’ supersede the tag ‘Host-User’?”

[Dependent upon Companion Character settings, Host will have initial charge, Host-User will have secondary charge.]

            “Well… Look who’s finally being useful.”

            “It’s going to be alright,” Shen Yuan said again, directing it towards the sect leader before turning back to Luo Binghe. “You must have been so confused these past few days, huh? Well, let this Master put the matter to rest.”

            He reached out and pulled the half-limp Luo Binghe to him, taking advantage of the almost-kneeling position it left the Heavenly Demon in to tuck him under his chin and pat his head one last time.

            “Binghe has always been a good boy,” Shen Yuan said softly, his eyes blurring as something warm dripped down his face. “It was this Master’s fault he became so unsure of his place. He didn’t have the words to say what he was thinking, and the words that did come were not what he wanted, and it hurt Binghe. That’s his fault, not yours. This Master has always known Binghe was his favorite, even before he got the chance to show him.”

            Shen Yuan pulled back a bit, and tried to keep his smile as his tears made Binghe’s face swim before his eyes. “Binghe is the best. But this master failed you. All those things you had to suffer, they were my fault. So, let me use this last moment, hm? Let Shizun show you he’s sorry properly.”

            He pulled Binghe close, as close as he could, close enough to where he wished the world would forget where one ended and the other began, if only so he could take a piece of his little lotus with him, blackened or not.

            And then he opened the floodgates and poured every remaining trace of spiritual qi he could muster into the half-demon, even when his meridians began to shake and he could feel blood dripping from his nose. Even when Luo Binghe began to struggle against him. The flailing was strong, driving them back, but Shen Yuan held firm, using everything he had to keep holding on.

            Shen Jiu would have the mushroom body, so he hopefully wouldn’t mind too much if Shen Yuan made one last use of this one, breaking the meridians down to the core to infuse the disciple he held with spiritual energy, until the wild, ferocious energy of Xin Mo no longer raced through him.

            “Be good, Binghe. I was so lucky to be your Shizun,” he whispered into the curls on top of Binghe’s head.

            And then, in his final moments, he felt himself begin to fall backwards, the cliff slipping out from under him.

            Shen Yuan had never felt so light, and his smile had never felt so free.

Chapter Text

            Shang Qinghua heard someone screaming from below as the intense flares of Shen Yuan’s qi suddenly dispersed, and he began to fall over the ridge. He watched, numb, as Luo Binghe caught him, and the shouts from below began to draw nearer.

They were about to have a very upset audience.

For a moment, the peak lords around him just watched on in shock. Even Shang Qinghua waited for a bated breath, hoping to see Shen-shixiong’s flight resume, but he lay still, blood dripping from his apertures as Luo Binghe gaped in a silent wail.

What… had they just seen? Shang Qinghua knew for a fact that the System had a way of masking itself, but that seemed… very obviously to be two Shen Qingqius. Did the others see? Did it wear a mask? What the fuck was going on????

[ModUser information request- denied.]

The spell over the ridge was broken by a low keening sound, which the mousy man realized a moment too late was coming from none other than Yue Qingyuan. The sect leader had an expression on his face that the An Ding Lord had never seen before, it’s pain something he knew intimately well, but had never seen so openly displayed, with a trickle of blood leaking from his lips.

And as the man forced himself to his feet, Shang Qinghua knew this was going to be a Problem.

“Yue-Shixiong!” He called, panic fluttering under his ribs as the man wrapped his fingers around the hilt of Xuan Su, drawing the blade out one inch, and then another, the brilliant white light that emanated from within almost blinding, even in the light of the dawn.

Shen-bro would definitely kill him if he woke up to find out Yue Qingyuan had done something so stupid without Shang Qinghua putting a stop to it! He whipped around, but Liu Qingge was still dazed on the ground, and Shen-bro was… Shen-bro…

He hissed, sending a mental apology to the sect leader as he ran up behind him, using one of the few martial skills he had perfected to break his stance and force Xuan Su back into its gilded sheath. “Don’t mess it up!” he hissed in the leader’s ear, but it seemed he was beyond hearing his quiet pleas. Left with no other choice, Shang Qinghua whined, gathering his meandering qi to help him produce an awfully inelegant, brutal headbutt straight into Yue Qingyuan’s face.

There was a small ricochet, leaving his teeth chattering, but it worked enough to get Yue Qingyuan swaying, and Shang Qinghua followed through with a quick hit to the back of his head, sighing as the man dropped to the ground.

“Liu-Shidi,” he called, keeping his eyes on Luo Binghe’s gaping face. “The sect leader is disregulated. He needs Mu Qingfang. Please take him.”

“But-!”

“Liu Qingge,” he interrupted, letting a bit of an edge bleed through. It seemed that this was the day his wholly meek demeanor would breathe it’s last. Pity, too, it was nice being the bumbling idiot sometimes. “I am your shixiong and I am giving you an order. Take Yue Qingyuan to Mu Qingfang. Now.”

There was a moment of silence, filled only by the breeze and the sound of disciples nearing.

“The kids shouldn’t see him like this,” he added gently on for good measure, and internally breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the man gather their leader up, and the whistle of his sword as he flew off.

Just then, the real chaos started.

“SHIZUN!!” came the cries of the Qing Jing disciples, Ning YingYing and Ming Fan chief among them. “What happened?!”

“Huan Hua has broken their own promises,” Shang Qinghua said solemnly. “And Shen Qingqiu… is dead.”

At once, all eyes zeroed in on the former Qing Jing disciple, who clutched the bloodied body to his chest. His red huadian was still visible between his brows.

“Luo Binghe!” Ming Fan yelled. “What have you done!? Shizun favored you, and this is how you repay him? With lies to your character and violence in your heart?!”

“A-Luo, why?” Ning YingYing began to cry, crystal tears dripping down her face as her ruined braids danced on the breeze. “Shizun was so sad when you were gone, he missed you so much, why would you fight him? Wasn’t he good to you? Didn’t we love you?”

“Turn him over,” another disciple demanded, angling his blade. “If you’re so despicable as to murder your own master, you cannot deserve to keep him from a peaceful grave!”

“Shizun?” Luo Binghe asked into the corpse’s hair.

“He didn’t kill him,” Shang Qinghua clarified. “But his death… it was caused by him.”

“Turn over his body, you… you demon!” someone yelled.

“Shizun…” Luo Binghe only clung tighter.

“Fight him now and your Shizun’s sacrifice will have been in vain!” Shang Qinghua called out, mounting his sword. “He is too strong for even your Liu-Shibo to face like this. Return to the sect, we will find our justice later.”

With great reluctance, and many promises of violence in the future, the younger generation made to depart, and Shang Qinghua kept his eyes on the boy kneeling on the ridge.

“… shizun… I don’t understand… I don’t… why…?”

Shang Qinghua sighed heavily, his heart bleeding for his prodigal son, but he said nothing as he followed the last trailing disciples and hall masters from the ridge, the image of Shen Qingqiu left bleeding in the dirt seared into his mind.

He couldn’t say anything to encourage his preferred outcomes. There were too many ears that might be listening, after all.

***

Chaos reigned on the mountain.

Mu Qingfang was nowhere to be found on the paths between the sect and Jin Lan city, his whereabouts unknown to any passerby who he had spoken to before leaving once his work curing the plague had been finished.

Yue Qingyuan was… not doing well. That was the greatest extent that Mu Qingfang’s head disciple was willing to share outside of his reporting to Shang Qinghua and the other more prevalent peak lords. “Not doing well” consisted of a major qi disruption, leaving them with little choice but to curb the violent outbursts by regularly using a specific blend of teas that left the man barely conscious and able to sit up by himself, feeding qi into his burned meridians.

And Qing Jing peak… it had always been the quiet peak, but now it stood among the mount like a graveyard, haunted by the ghosts of Shen Qingqiu’s disciples. Their ghostly wandering were only interrupted when Liu Qingge announced he would once again try to reclaim their Shizun’s corpse, and then their vengeful spirits would shout and scream and call for blood.

It was terrifying, and came with so much paperwork.

An Ding’s peak lord had never wanted so much responsibility.

***

It took him a month. A month of planning where to divert his king’s attention elsewhere, letting Yue Qingyuan languish under a mountain of sedatives and weeping until his qi could be properly regulated, and playing pathetic or plying guards with low burning flames built into economic bond fires.

It didn’t help that Liu Qingge had become even more efficient at his missions, so he could swiftly return to his singleminded focus of retrieving a corpse from the clutches of a boy who had barely started learning how to be a man. Every moment he thought he had things aligned, someone moved their piece without permission and he had to start all over again.

The constant drinking probably wasn’t helping him much, but he was allowed to have one small vice in the face of the wallowing void he found himself on the brink of.

…mm. He wasn’t going to think on that part too much.

But what was he thinking about again? Oh right… a month. For five minutes in Huan Hua palace.

He just wanted five minutes.

The jar in his hand was only half full by then, his compulsive sipping the only thing keeping him from falling to his knees and wailing like a banshee.

Shen Qingqiu looked so peaceful where he rested, the ravages of death unseen on his face or demurely folded hands. Gone were the streams of blood and yellowing bruises, and the complexion of his face was still quite pale, but the sunken edges of sickness that had plagued him after Jin Lan were no more. His hair had been so wild the last time Shang Qinghua had seen him, but now it laid over his shoulder in a neat, silky braid.

He looked like he could have just been sleeping, if not for the unnatural stillness of his chest, hidden behind the canopy around the bed. The curtains had been closed when he slipped in, but he had turned back one corner by the foot of the bed and leaned against the post. Just a few more minutes…

After all, there was no guarantee that the backup would work, and even if it did, based on the final moments before Cucumber-bro gave up Shen Qingqiu, there wasn’t a guarantee that the one who ended up using it would be the updated recipe. A few probing questions revealed that the other two peak lords had seen something but were unsure of what and Yue Qingyuan hadn’t settled enough to make sense through his murmuring ramblings.

But…

If that body got up and it was Shen Jiu, Shang Qinghua was probably fucked. Royally.

He sipped some more of the astringent liquid as the sound of something breaking and a sword being drawn echoed through the room.

“You really should have your admin team spring for better guards,” Shang Qinghua said, licking his lips as he continued to stare at the corpse. “If Liu-shidi had more than two braincells left that cared about strategy before violence when it came to you, he’d have gotten in here by now.”

“Get out.”

He paused, looking over at the furious Luo Binghe with consideration, noting a bowl of congee abandoned on the floor. “You do have an admin team, right? Ah, never mind.” He flapped his hand as he straightened up. “I’ll put one together for you.”

“You will not take Shizun.”

“Obviously,” the peak lord said as he rolled his eyes. “My meridians can barely handle me, I could never handle the strain of maintaining him. And like hell am I willing to file his mortuary papers, which is exactly what I would have to do once Mu Qingfang properly pronounces him dead.”

“…then why is Peak Lord Shang here?” The tip of Xin Mo didn’t waver, even as the demon stepped closer, malice radiating from every pore. Shang Qinghua sipped his liquor and found he didn’t really care, at that moment. Maybe it was the drink, maybe it was the fact that he was just…really tired. “I did not offer an invitation.”

“You harbor the last piece of my closest, dearest bosom friend, and you ask why I am here?” Red flags were popping up on his periphery as he turned to the Protagonist with an ugly smile on his lips, not caring about the transparent warning for his character actions. “I know you aren’t that stupid.”

“You are not welcomed.”

“Like I give a flying fuck,” Shang Qinghua hissed, a part of him finding a deep satisfaction in the jolt of surprise it caused. “That’s my brother on that bed. I know things about him that the rest of you will never understand, and he knows the same for me. If Shen-shixiong said he needed silk, I said ‘I will get you silk’. If he said he was worried about the winter, I said ‘I will get extra supplies’. If he was on excursions, I increased his budget. If he needed a break, I took him for tea so he could bitch about whatever he wanted. If he cried about his disciple going missing in hell, I directed inquiries so he could take a few days when he needed them to mourn in peace. And if Shen-shixiong’s actions say that he loves Luo Binghe enough to give up his immortal life for him, then I say ‘don’t worry dude, I’ll take care of him if you’re gone’!”

With a savage smile, Shang Qinghua threw his bottle to the side, advancing on the Protagonist through the haze of red filling his vision. “So, Lord Luo, I will be making you a curated administrative team, and you will review them to your liking. Call me your spy, your mole, your servant, your slave, whatever you have to in order to make it bearable, because it’s what Shen-shixiong would want for you, and I am Shang Qinghua, the Lord of An Ding Peak, and when Shen-shixiong says he wants something to happen, I fucking make. It. Happen!!” He stopped, just a few inches away from that evil sword with a smile carved onto his teeth. “And you’ll have to either kill me or get Shen-shixiong to wake up if you want me stop. Alright? You can stab me now.”

Just then, the earth quaked, and Luo Binghe’s gaze snapped to the door. Shang Qinghua laughed and ran a hand through his hair, pulling large chunks free from his bun. “I could manage to send that man to fucking Timbuktu, and he’d somehow figure out how to show up at the worst time!” He sighed, reaching over to pick up his now-leaking bottle again and skirt towards the door. “Well? I can’t beat the War God, and it kinda defeats the point if they know I’m playing both sides. So, get out there! And when you’re done, put a better security talisman in here. You know what, do that and I’m hiring you a divinationist. God, I swear it’s like you want someone to come and steal him, jeez.”

Luo Binghe was watching him go, and Shang Qinghua was sure this was the part where he got an evil sword to the back after mouthing off to his all-powerful creation, but the sharp sting never came.

[…results within acceptable bounds. Character Role ^:Demonic Liaison Representative 2.0:^ engaged.]

Huh…

[-150 points for OOC aggression.]

Ah… fuck it. It was worth it.

[New Moderator Quest: {{Brother, Beholden}}]

[Quest Objective:-]

Chapter Text

            It took another ten attempts from Liu Qingge and two recon trips from Shang Qinghua to figure out Mu Qingfang was, in fact, being held prisoner by Luo Binghe in the Huan Hua Water Prison. Shang Qinghua liked his second shidi well enough, but his position within the higher demon court was tentative, even with his stellar history with Mobei Jun, and he had already pushed his luck with Luo Binghe.

            So Mu Qingfang would have to be a bit patient for a while, and hope his refusal to look into further necromancy wouldn’t be enough to get his head sent to Yue Qingyuan’s doorstep in a box.

            Shang Qinghua had been hard at work making sure no one out side of the necessary officials knew that the Sect Leader in question was one strike of bad news away from going up like a warehouse of oil with one bad lantern.

            Luckily enough, Mu Qingfang’s head disciple was adept, if not as experienced as his master, and dedicated to the work of restoring Yue Qingyuan’s meridians day after day, and slowly easing up on the sedative tea to try and allow the man to work through whatever rampaging emotions were disturbing him.

            Still, Shang Qinghua hadn’t been prepared to come back from his monthly “business trip” to the other court to see Liu Qingge waiting for him, and to have him half-drag him up to Qiong Ding, and straight into the other man’s house. He knew the way, obviously, but he enjoyed getting to whine and play distressed for a bit after such a harrowing few days dealing with the demons who didn’t care for spoken diplomacy.

            He was even less prepared to see Yue Qingyuan sitting up at his desk, in clean robes, with his hair done up into its crown, and a fresh set of tea in front of him.

            “Thank you, Liu-Shidi. Both of you please join me.” Yue Qingyuan sipped at his tea, a faraway look in his eyes.

            They sat.

            “I want to thank you as well, Qinghua,” Yue Qingyuan continued. The An Ding Peak Lord could feel Liu Qingge tense at the familiar form of address. “I hear you’ve been handling things while I have been… indisposed.”

            “You weren’t handling things very well, it was all I could do to help,” Shang Qinghua awkwardly dismissed. “I wasn’t gonna make you deal with all that while you were dealing with… all that.”

            “Mmm,” came the answering hum as Yue Qingyuan poured them both tea, and he frowned when Shang Qinghua added a splash of the drink from the flask he carried in his sleeve to the mix. “Still. I am feeling more… myself, today. As such, I should like to discuss something with the both of you. Regarding Shen Qingqiu.”

            “I have failed you,” Liu Qingge said at once, bowing his head. “I have tried, but the demon still holds Shen Qingqiu’s corpse in his possession. I will not stop until he can be laid to rest properly.”

            “I do wish for his body to be returned to us,” Yue Qingyuan said, reaching over the table to push the war god back upright. “But I also want your help with another matter. It will likely be dangerous, we will have to cross near both Huan Hua’s territory and the borderlands, and it is imperative that we do not stop from the time we retrieve the quarry in question until we return safely to Cang Qiong.”

            “Zhangmen-shixiong,” Shang Qinghua quickly interrupted. “You don’t mean that something regarding Shen Qingqiu, do you?”

            “I do,” the man confirmed, quickly silencing the other lord’s frantic sounds with a wave of his hand. “I saw what I saw on the ridge, however little I understand it, and I am sure you did too. Our… associate has not been forthcoming on what that might entail, as my primary means of communication seemed to stem from Shen-shidi. But in the event that this detail does change things, I will not have things going awry out in the middle of nowhere with no one available to provide a proper explanation.”

            “But that will raise quite a few questions,” Shang Qinghua pointed out.

            “Not if its us. Not if we’re careful. I won’t leave them out there. Either of them.” Yue Qingyuan looked at him, his eyes filled with a deep, unmasked sorrow. “I won’t fail either of them again. I promised.”

            The sort-of God looked at his creation, his pleading son, and skipped the tea altogether in favor of sipping from his flask. “As Zhangmen-shixiong says.”

            “Who are we talking about now?” Liu Qingge asked.

            “It will be better, the less Liu-Shixiong knows,” Yue Qingyuan said, taking another sip of his tea. “You cross blades with Luo Binghe quite often, and I would hate for him to have even a chance of putting together any details about this. If you accept, you will come as a guard, and you will remain on the outside perimeter, and you will not ask questions.”

            “If Zhangmen-shixiong says it is best, then it is best,” the war god said simply. “And if it will rankle the brat, its even better.”

            “Right,” Yue Qingyuan said, something settling in his aura as he poured them fresh cups of tea. “So, here is what I propose we do-”

***

            Yue Qingyuan reflected that the trip had gone rather well, as he washed the blood and dirt out from under his fingernails. With the two other lords’ help, he had managed to get all the way to the borderlands and back, and they’d only had to fight lesser demons and a few smatterings of low-grade cultivators on the way back, slipping into the sect under the cover of night and a very powerful concealment talisman with no one the wiser.

            At last, the gnawing, rending knot of worry and grief that lived in a cavern carved out of his very heart had begun to ease, its sharp edges fading back to the dull aches he had lived through for so many years already. Each beat still brought him pain, but he found he was able to manage it well enough.

            The body grown from the Sun and Moon Dew seeds now rested peacefully in his private garden, surrounded on all sides by sturdy stone walls and the trellis of his own home, seeming to have withstood it’s journey wrapped in dozens of layers of cloth quite well. The mycelium had seemed healthy, as far as he could tell, and he had worked very delicately alongside Shang Qinghua to ensure that the soil surrounding it was as undisturbed as they could manage during the transplant for the sake of the roots.

            He had taken it away from the uncertain place, filled with uncertain sorrows, and now, it was once again buried in lush, verdant soil, and when it began to breathe, one of Yue Qingyuan’s Shen-shidi would be within. He selfishly hoped for Xiao Jiu, he mournfully prayed for Yuan-didi, he nervously waited for anyone, anything as long as the body didn’t rot and decay in the soil, its willing form never bound to a familiar master.

            He didn’t know what he would do if he had to bid either one of them goodbye forever.

            The larger, more wounded part of him refused to acknowledge that one day, he would have to.

            He sat in the garden, a satchel of paperwork by his side to keep him busy, and Yue Qingyuan waited.

***

            Naturally, he could not sit in the garden for every minute of every day. As days tipped into week, and weeks into months, and months into yet another year, Yue Qingyuan remembered how to fake a genial smile, and when to schedule his meetings, and what days he would be needed at what conference and who would look after things while he was gone.

            And there was one additional task, formerly held by the disciples of Qing Jing, that he had selfishly stolen for his own.

            The bamboo house was not sprawling or vast, like his own residence. It consisted simply of the front hall, a receiving room, the kitchen, a small office, and two bedrooms. A small plot of land rested behind the house, where a sword mound lay waiting for its griever to return, and a few clutches of flowers and medicinal herbs grew amid the bamboo.

            It was small, for a person with so much pull as Xiao Jiu had, but it was exactly as he had commissioned it to be. Close, quiet, and private, with no extra space for someone unwelcomed to linger.

            And Yue Qingyuan had named himself as it’s caretaker.

            Perhaps that would have been considered an insult by the original owner, or a gift by his successor, but Yue Qingyuan only had so much heart, and he found he could smile a little bit longer, no matter how much it hurt, if he was able to simply stand in front of the desk where Xiao Jiu had thrown a teacup at him, or by the table he and Yuan-didi had shared snacks over. Each fan, shelf, stand, and post was steeped in something so intrinsic to him, a multitude of feelings he yearned for each morning upon waking to a still plot in the garden, and in the confines of bamboo and wood, the loss hurt a little bit less.

            Naturally, there would be times where he would be unavailable to visit the house for longer stretches of time, and at that point the two headmost remainders of Shen Qingqiu’s students would take over the work of keeping it clean and presentable, but he preferred to do it himself. He would pack his satchel with papers and treatises and requests and recommendations, fly over the maw of the mountains to the bamboo house, tidy up, and then sit in the silence for an afternoon, enjoying the space that yelled “they lived! Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan were here! See where they touched the world!” for a time while he worked on his papers, until they were done, and he returned to his own home to tend the plant body.

            And on one such day, as the sun began to slant through the windows with the tell-tale hue of a golden, fiery sunset, Yue Qingyuan was packing up to leave when the side seam of his satchel caught on the edge of the table, and ripped. He gasped as the meticulously ordered papers sild out the side, fluttering all over the floor of Xiao Jiu’s room.

            “Just perfect,” he grumbled in his own thoughts, kneeling down once more to scoop the pages together. They really had gone everywhere! Some had flitted under the table, others under the edge of the bed, and a handful even managed to wedged themselves against the wall under the dresser.

            He was tempted to leave the last set, and edge of angered annoyance digging into his fingertips, but he was pretty sure from the few characters he could see that it has some of the pages that were actually important for his upcoming meeting with the Xi Huan Temple about combining their ward stones on the western side Cang Qiong’s territory. He needed those ones… so he laid down on his stomach, reaching back to fish for them.

            It was really dusty under the dresser. To be fair, the shape of the base would make it difficult to get under for cleaning, but the faint traces of scratches on the floor indicated that it had been slid out at least a few times in the past.

            He wouldn’t get on with the kids about the dust- he hadn’t been pulling the furniture out either. But maybe he could put aside a little extra time to do so on his next visit. The papers continued to dance around the edge of his fingers and he huffed.

            Fine then.

            With a groan, Yue Qingyuan forced himself back up and tackled the process of pulling out the dresser from the wall. He immediately quelled what few quiet grumbles him mind had as the dresser proved to be quite heavy and awkward. He did his best to lift it enough that it wouldn’t scratch the wood floors further, but the back leg caught on something and before he knew it, there was a cracking sound.

            He began to panic, worried he had broken the dresser, only to look down and see that a panel of the floor had popped up from its grooving, laying petulantly under his paperwork. Yue Qingyuan sighed, shifting the dresser enough to let him slip a shoulder behind and gather up the loose pages.

            As he retrieved the last handful, he turned them over, checking for damage, only to find an extra page, brittle and yellowed with age.

            “What’s this?” he asked the empty room, gently examining the outside crease, a peek under the loose board showed a whole row of pages, folded neatly, lined corner to corner of the hidden compartment.

            He really shouldn’t look… He knew he shouldn’t look. But those pages were old, older than something Shen Yuan would have had time to write and squirrel away.

            Those pages… belonged to Xiao Jiu.

            He knew he shouldn’t look, but his heart ached, and his hands trembled, and he considered the one he already accidentally held.

            He knew he shouldn’t look. It would be an invasion of Xiao Jiu’s privacy, and Xiao Jiu had prized that very resource with vicious protection, even with him. Perhaps especially with him.

            He shouldn’t look… but he unfolded the first crease, and the line “Yue Qingyuan,” greeted him.

            He shouldn’t look, but Yue Qingyuan found to his shame, once again, that he was a very, very weak man.

***

“Yue Qingyuan,

I have not loved you with all my heart for many years, nor with a mind that cannot reconcile you from then to now do I often think of you kindly. Yet, in spite of all my efforts, my soul remains steadfast in its belief that I shall not stray far from you. Perhaps it is so adamant, as the mind learns to forget, and the heart one day will cease its beating. And still, my heart and mind aside, I remain here, by your side at the end of all things.  

I know that you have scorned the memory of me, and for all your prospects, I cannot blame you. I too have risen to the Peaks of Heaven and wish for no reminders of the filth that once bore me into this world of faulty minds and fragile hearts. It is only natural that you should feel the same.  

‘And yet,’ my soul whispers. ‘And yet…’

And yet it is my wish, that I whisper to the moon’s full face again and again, that you may be more than just a stranger made from memory, shameful as such a guilty wish may be. That instead of empty apologies, you might make the last great confession that keeps you from me, and in turn invoke my own that builds against my better judgment, hidden in my heart of hearts and on pages writ by midnight.  

But if your guilt and revulsion of me be so strong that you will not take me in your arms, then I will shamefully beg with all my horrid, hateful heart- hold the memories of what once was in high regard, or at the very least their essence of our past connections. And if Fate should lay the thread in such a pattern that we must part, and I am to be a part of your life no longer, then at least let that small, dirtied speck of something vile like this disgraceful Shen Qingqiu live on in your heart.  

I do not know why you have permitted me to haunt you thusly. I can only hope that one day you will finally see fit to fight past the cut of my sorrowed claws and tell me. But until that day, if whatever divinity that mocks my life sees fit to give me respite, I shall continue my whispered prayers to the waxing moon.  

My dreams are full of coming darkness, Qi-ge, and I cannot escape from them save for in the light of the full moon that brings me thoughts of you, and the promise you made under such a sky to return.  

Return to me, Qi-ge. Return and tell me true of why you elected to see that we were parted, and I shall forgive you everything, and we will begin anew. Return, and I will be yours, without reservation or resistance.

Return to me, my moonlight hope, and breathe life into me once again, I beg of you.  

The full moon is waning, and the dark tides rise again. I no longer wish for the lonely silence.  

Return.”

***

“Yue Qi,

The starlit scape of Heaven rises high over Qing Jing once more, and I find myself awoken from my dreams. It pleases me just fine for such a state to be my own, as my mind seems content with its subconscious dereliction of sane thought in favor of wild, fervently perverse machinations.  

This Qing Jing Peak is mine, now, and is known for quietude, but the air at this hour is particularly still amid the summit shrine. It pleases me.  

Silence pervades much of my life now. It was never so before, do you remember? Sometimes it seems as though Yue Qingyuan is all you have ever been, and that fifthly little street urchin with a smile was only ever a fleeting fever dream.   I would tell you, but silence is all the respect my lips seem able to give you now.  

I know that you must think I hate you, and to be fair, there is a large part of me that does. That voice in me, that hates that you left so easily, that you elected to abandon your promise, and that even now you will smile as though I am a stranger. As though I was not the one to shield you from the dogs, to rake my fingers through your knotted hair, to rub dirt upon your wounds. And that voice far too easily rears its head and screams with all its might.  

So I will offer you what little love I still can through my silence. And, perhaps, I offer it as a mercy to us both. In silence, there is no true rejection. There is only the aching yawn of loneliness, wherein no one can own me but you, and no one can claim you but I.  

And perhaps, if my love reaches to you from afar, it will have softened enough by the time it arrives that it shall only be returned with your genial smile, and not the pain of dismissal.  

It is lonely, this last, clinging ember of my affection for you. But perhaps it is better this way, where my heart is carried on the wind, for all the Gods above and Devils below know that the wind, however chilled, is still gentler than my lips, and sweeter than my voice.  

The air grows chilled, true enough, even for one whose skill has progressed as far as mine. The moon, not yet renewed, begins to sink from her summit atop the world. Perhaps I shall return home.  

Perhaps, this time, I will dream of you.”

***

“Yue Qingyuan,

This doesn’t mean anything. I know that you will never see it. When I am done, I will burn it, as I have burned all the other memories of you in that city whose name I shall not ever grace again.  

But tonight, the nightmares have come, and I am alone. The warmth of that red pavilion is not attainable now, nor the safety that it brings, and I am left to this as my method of expelling whatever demon has lanced my dreams.  

As I have grown, so too have the monsters in my mind.  

You used to hold my hands, when I would wake you with my screams. You would let me sleep behind you, with my back against the cold stone wall. You used to listen, when I was young and tender enough to do something so unsightly and weak as to cry.  

Now I wake, silent. Alone, with no useless tears to shed.  

This letter doesn’t mean anything. I don’t even know why I elected to begin it. You don’t mean anything to me anymore. None of that which happened before has anything to do with what will happen now that we are here.  

You may be the head disciple of your peak, but I am the head disciple of mine. And I did it on my own. And when we progress and take our teachers’ places, I will swear to eternity, if only so that you and your selfish, lying heart will never know peace from your misdeeds against me.  

I hate you. For all that we were once brothers, I hate you with all that I am. And I will cling to you, in my twisted, spiteful scorn and I will never let you forget what you are, or where you come from.  

You used to listen. You used to care. Now I don’t care if we never speak civilly again. I have given you your chance to speak your piece, and you have denied me. So now there can be no kindness between us.  

I hope you wake up every night on the full moon, and are tortured by whatever your pathetic excuses are. I hope the face of all Heaven mocks you for your darkened, bloodied heart and lying, stealing hands.  

Because if there is to be no answer as to why, I will never let there be peace for either of us.  

You used to listen. You used to mean something. I used to feel safe if you were there.   When I found you again I thought it would be like finding home.

What a stupid thought.  

Now I will be safe by myself. And it doesn’t matter if I write as such, because I will burn this letter in the hearth and curse you with it. I have decided that you will get your just rewards in person, from my cold, dead heart to yours.

The dreams we once shared have gone to their streetside graves, and this is now our bitter reality.  

I will never, ever forgive you.”

***

            Yue Qingyuan was dimly aware that his tears were dripping onto the pages, but found that he could muster little care. He wasn’t wholly sure why Xiao Jiu would elect to write such things, much less why he had decided not to burn them after all, but each word, so perfectly written in flowing script, stabbed at his heart.

            Xiao Jiu had been discontent- and had written to him to calm his heart? A heart that… maybe hadn’t… no. He couldn’t even bear to think it.

            The yellowed letters scattered around him, the few he had read dotted with his tears. There were more, but his heart clenched at the prospect of reading them all at once. These were the words of Xiao Jiu, the last traces he might ever see.

            He shouldn’t have read them, but he couldn’t regret that he did. And now that he had started, shouldn’t he savor them?

            He gently gathered the letters together, delicately folding them back together and moving to tuck them back into their hiding place, only to find a handful of scrunched up paper shoved into the corner of the floorboard box. He gently picked it out, smoothing the pages with a wet sigh, intending to fold them with the others, only to pause.

            Something about these pages were different. The yellowing hadn’t progressed as much, and there were thick blots of ink staining the corners and bleeding through the body of the pages. He spread them out, the shaking, lopsided characters making his hackles rise.

“I am scared for you, Qi-ge. He’s in my nightmares. That little beast is coming and I can’t shake it anymore. He’s going to hurt us I know it. I feel it in my bones he’s going to hurt you and I can’t let him. I can’t let you go such a way I just can’t. Please Qi-ge. Don’t go with them. Don’t follow where he takes me to die. I’ll beat him, starve him, make him break his own soul before he ever has a chance and you’ll be safe again. I’ll do anything. I’ll be anything. I’ll shatter myself if I have to just don’t go. Don’t come for me. Don’t leave me forever. ”

            Yue Qingyuan’s frown deepened as the handwriting continued to worsen, little specks of something brown dotting the paper alongside the ink, as the hand that had written it seemed to have begun shaking.

“It hurts. I can still feel it, and it hurts and I cant. I won’t. He won’t. I won’t let him. I hear it speaking in the day. You’ll be ok Qi-ge. Just this once, Xiao Jiu will protect you again. I’m going to say yes.  

I can still fix this. ”

            After such a declaration, the handwriting completely devolved. Xiao Jiu, for surely as the others were this had to have been written by Xiao Jiu, seemed to have been taken by some fever pitch. Yue Qingyuan remembered how he could sometimes be after a particularly difficult brush with the nightmares that had plagued him since boyhood, but he had never seen such a display.

            There were several pages stuck together, and he carefully separated them, immediately feeling like his lungs had turned to stone, a dizziness overwhelming him.

            On the page, Qi Qingqi was laying in the forest, her torso being gnawed on by what looked to be a pack of feral, rabid demonic wolves. The details were rushed, smudged in places, but it was undoubtedly her. On the next, Xiao Jiu’s frantic swipes of ink painted Shang Qinghua- his gaze listless as blank eyes stared unseeing from where his skull was impacted on a long, frozen spike.

            And there were more.

            Liu Qingge- lying in a pool of blood, bleeding from his apertures in what seemed to be a cave. Mu Qingfang, with bulging eyes and blood pouring from his lips as he fell slack over a table. Each page, one after the next, detailing a horrible, bloody end for each peak lord.

            And then, on the second to last page, was him.

            Yue Qingyuan looked in morbid fascination and horror, dimly impressed at the evocative expression of himself, slumped over on his knees, his clothes tattered and hair undone, with the shattered remains of Xuan Su by his side, and a multitude of arrows protruding from both himself, and the earth around him.

            The lines were sharper, more detailed, and he found himself resisting the urge to throw up.

            The last page made his resistance futile.

            How could he not vomit, throw the pages, and cry like a wailing ghost when he looked down upon the image of Shen Qingqiu, emaciated, with a hollow socket for one eye, laying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, his limbs missing as the shards of Xuan Su laid before him, with one, detailed tear tracing down his hollowed cheek?

            How could he not feel his soul break further, when the little blue spirit quietly chirped at him.

[Quest {{And In Your Heart Shall Burn}} Completed]

[Objective: Find out what happened to Shen Jiu during his fatal qi deviation- Completed]

Chapter Text

            He hadn’t minded the cold, at first. The space was dark, limitless even as far as his qi could sense. Just a long, endless expanse of smooth, black tiles, lit by a source he could not place, stretching out one after another into the void. He was still dressed in his inner robes, ink stained against his delicate nails like claws, and his hair fell in a messy sheet of midnight knots over his shoulders.

            Messy and ugly, leaving the world just as he had arrived. It was only fitting. At least the blood hadn’t followed him, it would have been a pain to try and wash in these circumstances.

            He hadn’t minded the cold, or the quiet, or the rending feeling of being paper thin against the afterworld. If this was the afterworld, anyway. It didn’t seem to have anything the myths claimed. It didn’t seem to have anything at all… Maybe he was still deviating? Maybe he was trapped in a hell of his own making. It would be just his luck.

            The cold still felt cold. The dark still seemed dark. And Shen Jiu, no doubt to the mortal world’s unknowing pleasure, was still feeling dead. He wasn’t sure how long he waited in the dark, walking along the unmarked path to nowhere in nothing but his inner clothes and socks before that strange voice spoke to him once more, appearing in thin lines upon the air, too close for comfort, too far to catch.

[Congratulations! Important things *should* be said three times with enthusiasm, but data states Host would not consider it genuine… please accept this singular plain statement.]

[System status…ACTIVE!]

[Transmigration Initiation completed. Data tag ::HOST USER:: added to new data set.]

[Host-User role bound to hosting persona ::SHEN QINGQIU::]

[::SHEN JIU:: data set saved in primary system data banks. Data tag ::HOST:: added to data set. Current data status… INACTIVE.]

[The System would like to welcome Host ::SHEN JIU:: to the Primary System Server! Would Host like to initiate Ambient Environment Mode?]

            “What?” Shen Jiu asked, his voice somehow managing to sound like nothing and still echoing in the space around him. Was this… this… thing still going to be harassing him? He’d hardly had a moment’s rest in the last two days, and even less in his nightmares. Surely death ought to be enough to find some true peace!!

            Just his luck, there could be no quiet for his tattered soul.

[Would Host like to initiate Ambient Environment Mode? Ambient Environment Mode will result in landscape changes catered to Host Profile Preferences. This is a complimentary System Server Service for Host, and will not detract from B-Points.]

            “Well, what does that mean?” he thought with annoyance.

[Would Host like to enable Ambient Environment Mode?]

[YES/NO]

            “Nng,” he growled in the back of his throat, and he suddenly felt a great wave of tiredness sweep over him. He desperately wished for his fan to keep his hands occupied. Beating the little green and blue wisp a few paces back would be nice too, but he wouldn’t deign to touch it with his bare hands. And frankly, he didn’t care anymore. He’d done his part.  “Do what you wish. It makes no difference to me.”

[…processing feedback… processing feedback… processing determined: positive.]

[Excellent choice! Retrieving appropriate data and materials…]

[Uploading sensory data sets…]

[Uploading texture packs…]

[Rendering Environmental Data Set…. ::QING JING PEAK::]

            Shen Jiu sighed, continuing his walk to nowhere, even as little blades of grass began to break through the limitless black tiles under his boots, and proper light began to suffuse the area.

            Maybe he had saved Yue Qi…

            …maybe he really had just finally gone crazy.

***

            Even now, he was cold. The strange tiles had sprouted fields of grass, and the pavilions of his peak, even a form mimicking the bamboo house with all its accoutrements, where he was free to bathe, style his hair, and find robes to his liking. Everything was almost exactly to his liking, from the clothes to the hair ornaments, to the teas, to the weather, to the quiet.

            And he tried to ignore the unsettling aura such likes produced.

            The not-Qing Jing was not a perfect replica- there were no disciples or hall masters, no unexpected visits from Yue Qingyuan or Liu Qingge breaking down his door. There were no Peak Lords, so there was no paperwork. There were no students, so naturally there were no lessons. There were no monsters, so there were no hunts to undertake. The trees and flowers remained in a perfect state of late-blooms, the sun rising and setting, the moon only ever just a sliver in the sky, never growing full or waning away. The ponds rested still, not even so much as a breeze to ripple their faces, and no fish swam beneath the surfaces. Even the small waterfalls stilled, their cascading rivulets seeming frozen in a moment of time, unmoving until he ran his finger through their planned path, and then the disturbed droplets would fall and still once more.

            He couldn’t even recall seeing something as trivial as an ant crawling on the stonework.

            This, he assured himself, was for the best. He was a man best left alone. This was how he was meant to be, where his jagged edges could be sharp with no one else around to suffer the consequences.

            It was best for him to be alone…it wasn’t like there would be anyone to miss him.

            He took to walking, when playing his guqin or painting with supplies that never diminished lost its novelty. To the front of the mountain, there was the path to the rainbow bridge, but at the gate the path ended, with no crystalline hue to carry him further. On the opposing end, there was the shrine to the peak lords of the past, and the great cliff face that he often visited when he could not sleep.

            On the sides, clinging to the outermost paths, and swirling below, there was an ever-present fog, where Shen Jiu had quickly discovered he would not willingly travel. He needed only venture once in the name of curiosity to swear off such things for the rest of his not-life. The first few steps had been nothing, but soon he could hear the muffled sounds of voices long dead, and pains long outgrown itched at his skin. He had not gone further, unwilling to see exactly what waited for him in such a place.

            He pulled Yue Qi’s white fur cloak around himself tighter and was cold.

            The little thing that haunted him could not be beaten away, nor could it be threatened in any way that mattered. It was often quiet, and Shen Jiu would lose count of the days he was left in silence. Not that he could trust the cycle of day and night to count as a measurement- there would be stretches of time where the sun shone for what felt like weeks, only for night to feel like less than an incense stick’s worth of time. Or the moon would hang, and hang, and hang, unchanging for such time that he wondered if he was going mad again, and he would blink, and it would be day.

            And then, apropos of nothing, his personal demon, scourge of all peace, orchestrating entity of his willing demise, would slip into his mind once more. It said all sorts of strange things, most of which was nonsense, but some small pieces of pertinent information would be shared. It was through these small, snatched snippets that he clung to what little sanity prevailed.

            The new Shen Qingqiu had awoken.

            The new Shen Qingqiu had been accepted by the Peak Lords. (He tried to bury the sting he felt at the thought of Yue Qingyuan calling out to someone who was not him. The point had been to fool them. He couldn’t be envious of a creature fulfilling the intended purpose he had bestowed upon it…)

            The new Shen Qingqiu had encountered the little beast and begun its quest properly, with the blue writing demon pouring out more nonsense about a protagonist and points, and updates, and plot. He resolutely tuned out in favor of playing his guqin much too loudly to be proper.

            The new Shen Qingqiu was becoming loved by his students, by the peak lords, by everyone he fucking looked at like a godsdamned little-

            He broke the strings on his guqin, and snapped the neck of every paintbrush in his house. He shredded his fans, threw all the delicate porcelain onto the ground and threw every piece of clothing he wasn’t actively wearing into a heap in his room before tossing down every candle he could find and standing outside, watching the sky turn dark as the fire ate through the windows.

            If the new Shen Qingqiu was so good, so likable and purehearted and untaintable, then he could have even the ashes of what little Shen Jiu managed to retain. He could have the shitty peak, and his stupid students, and his singular awful, no-good, lying friend. Because what did it matter anymore, anyway? Having his face wasn’t enough? Having his core wasn’t enough? Just what made that deceitful little whelp so much better than him anyway? If he looked like him, and acted like him, why did everyone like him so much better, huh? Shen Jiu didn’t care if he was the one who technically started all of this!

            And why did it matter?! He was gone. His part in the story had been played. He didn’t need to know that the new Shen Qingqiu was out there, living every dream Shen Jiu had ever dared to have, ripping his life from his cold dead hands and somehow being everything he had ever wanted even though he’d had all the same pieces. Why did he need to hear about it? Why did they have to taunt him with it, telling it like it was some sort of fucked up story it wanted to amuse itself with... going on about all the good his doppelganger was up to, all the affection he was garnering...

            Fuck. Him.

            He watched the sky burn, and he laughed, even though the roaring flames still weren’t enough to warm his haunted bones.

***

            He’d woken in his bed. His paint set was set up in perfect order in the corner, his guqin gleamed with beautiful, taut strings, and his clothes orderly lined his closet. The house was spotless, not so much as a speck of dust to be seen.

            Shen Jiu screamed.

***

            He was tired.

            He was so cold, and so, so tired.

            Shen Jiu wasn’t sure how long he had been on the not-Qing Jing peak. The fog still swirled, the bridge was still missing, the shrine was still quiet. No fish, no bugs, no birds, no students, no teachers, no colleagues, no friend.

            If he broke something, it was magically fixed. If he razed down the bamboo, it was fine the next time he turned around. The flowers always bloomed, the sun always shone, the grass was always green, and he was alone, save for when the writing demon came to spew nonsense.

            He was tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of yelling with his voice that was never heard by anyone who mattered. Tired of walking to nowhere. Tired of waiting for nothing. Tired of painting shapes that had no meaning.

            He was tired.

            So, he slept.

***

            At the first inklings of waking, he was comfortable. He was wrapped up on his side in his bed, the covers pulled up to his ears, heavy and soft, and warm. The sun diffused softly through the window, and there was the soft lilting of a bird outside, the breeze whispering against the sills.

            For a long, drawn out moment, Shen Jiu felt contentment settle comfortably behind his ribs.

            He blearily opened his eyes, blinking slowly as he heavy weight of deep slumber slid away from him.

            The happy feeling was instantly gone as soon as he saw that his things had been moved.

            His fans were in the wrong spots, his paint set was in disarray, and his guqin was in the wrong corner of the square table it rested on. There were papers on his desk, and books pulled down from their shelves.

            “Who’s there?” he called, his voice only half present, from sleep or disuse, he wasn’t sure.

            No one answered him, regardless. He slipped out of his bed, once more in only his inner robes and socks, with his hair unbound and falling down his back like ink. He looked around every nook and cranny of the house, tossing his senses wide to try and find who had made such a mess.

            But he was alone.

[Congratulations!]

            Shen Jiu jumped as the demon appeared before him with an uncharacteristic shower of green sparks, instantly reaching out to slap it to no effect.

[Host has finally completed their first quest! {{Into the Night, Into the Unknown}} Congratulations! As a reward, Host has been awarded 750 B-Points and 500 CD Points!]

[Host and Host User have reached sufficient concurrent development points to initiate the Host System 2.2 Upgrade, and Host has acquired Ambient Environment Upgrade v.1! This is a complimentary upgrade and has been automatically installed.]

[Initiating Sub-system catalyst for ::SHEN JIU::]

[Initial Sub-system code… ::YUE QINGYUAN:: via Key Item]

[Bridging catalyst data set… ::SHEN YUAN/ SHEN QINGQIU v.2::]

[…Catalyst initiation complete! Sub-systems paired successfully!]

            “What?” Shen Jiu asked from his place plastered against the wall, unmoving as line after line of text wove together, caging him in.

[Host has completed the initiation quest {{Into the Night, Into the Unknown}} and has been paired with Host User for a hidden Platinum Tier Quest given by Companion Character ::YUE QINGYUAN::! As such, Host is now able to access the User Server, Character Tree, and hidden background details for Host User! Congratulations! Please continue to advance and work hard!]

            “Wait…” Shen Jiu thought, slowly sliding down the wall. “Does this mean…I’m back in the story?”

Chapter Text

            What few moments of panic Shen Jiu managed to suppress were rudely interrupted when the door abruptly slid open, and two rippling, hazy figures rushed in.

            He dimly felt it was odd, to see what was clearly him, but not, contorted like light through mist.

            “OW!” the second figure, which he belatedly identified as Shang Qinghua, shouted, his voice sounding metallic and far away. “Bro! Bro! Dude! Do you know how much shit I have to get through today? Can’t this wait?!”

            “We have a problem so much bigger than paperwork right now,” the Not Shen Qingqiu said, pushing the other peak lord down at the table. It was hard to tell through the haze surrounding them, but he seemed distressed, running his hands through his hair.

            “Improper,” Shen Jiu found himself thinking. “And why would you bring him? He’s a bumbling fool who’s only good for menial paper labor and ink.”

            “Did you get the update?” his replacement asked, turning back to his apparent captive. His voice sounded slightly closer, but it too warped around the edges, rippling out into the nether.

            “What update?”

            “The System update, you dolt!” Not Shen Qingqiu sighed heavily. “My system launched an update this morning. Did you get it too?”

            Shang Qinghua seemed to look off to the side, a thin slice of pale blue cutting through the air next to him.

            “He sees the writing demon too?” Shen Jiu thought in surprise, slowly leaving where he remained huddled on the floor in the hall way to slowly move into the receiving room, watching Shang Qinghua’s form.

            The demon looked different to him, a light, pale blue with no traces of green or deeper hues as it had when it wrote for Shen Jiu. He couldn’t bring the hazy characters into focus enough to read what it was saying, and he could not hear its voice.

            “How…odd.” Shen Jiu finally settled on, posting up at the corner to watch the two bicker for a few moments more. They both fell startlingly silent as the front door opened once again, and Shen Jiu felt his dead heart kick up into his throat as power suffused the house, activating its built in arrays.

            He knew that qi signature.

            “Peak Lord Shen,” Yue Qingyuan said, his voice surprisingly cold. “I was under the impression that this conversation was to be had alone.”

            Not Shen Qingqiu was talking, and Shang Qinghua was squeaking about something, but Shen Jiu was focused only on the path Yue Qingyuan took as he entered. After a silent command for the replacement to sit, Yue Qingyuan settled at the table, a mere handspan away from where Shen Jiu waited, observing.

            He caught the way his body went tense as the words “I’m not Shen Jiu” hung heavy and echoed on the air, like a scythe ready to harvest all in its path and destroy the growth of the field. His doppelganger had shown their hand, and Shen Jiu wasn’t sure what to expect, watching every iota of what he could decipher through the haze for the sect leader’s reactions.

            He seemed… different. Shen Jiu couldn’t quite place it, but there was a tension around his eyes that seemed to run deep and dull them, and his lips did not paint their usual smile. He had never used such a cold tone with Shen Jiu as he had just now with the fake. Had Yue Qingyuan maybe already suspected…?

            It was a stupid thing to hope for. The whole point was that no one would know the two of them had switched places.

            But Yue Qingyuan was clearly being attentive, though Shen Jiu couldn’t care to direct any of his focus to whatever his replacement was saying. He only noted that he was speaking in far too soft of a tone to sound any way other than submissive, which wasn’t something Shen Jiu would do at all. But now that he had spilled their secret, he didn’t have much use for pretending, did he?

            But Yue Qi was here, and alive if not seeming exactly at peace. When had he ever, in those days since their ill-fated reunion? Shen Jiu had certainly made it a point to make his life hell when the mood struck him. How long had it been since the last time they had truly spoken? How long had it been since Shen Jiu had bid the living world goodbye?

            But Yue Qi was alive… Shen Jiu could be content with that. He basked in their proximity, wishing he could reach out and bat the man with his fan and yell about walking into his house without knocking first. How improper, how impolite! But his hands remained wrapped around his knees where they tucked into his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his sleep pants and turning an even paler jade at the knuckles. The knowledge that Shang Qinghua apparently had divinity in his blood went in one ear and out the other.

            After all, Yue Qi was here…

            “Where is Shen Jiu?” Yue Qingyuan suddenly asked, and the man in question straightened as though he had been struck by lightning.

            “I’m here,” he whispered, daring to break his silence, reaching out as though to grab his sleeve before pulling back. He wished he had a fan…

            At the same time, Not Shen Qingqiu responded, “I don’t know. I never had a direct interaction with him, I just woke up like this and was told he had qi deviated. I’m sorry, I can’t tell you what happened to him.”

            Shen Jiu finally managed to tear his gaze away from the hazy form of his one friend, turning to his own lost body. His replacement truly didn’t know? Why had he accepted then? Surely no one was that pure-hearted, he had to have some sort of angle…

            The two lesser lords began to squabble again, and Shen Jiu pondered on the oddity that was currently living in his abandoned body until said oddity addressed the sect leader again, an unfamiliar sound of concern painting the voice Shen Qingqiu had only used to maim.

            “I… I must attend to other matters,” Yue Qingyuan said, rising in a rippling motion that left Shen Jiu feeling slightly dizzy. “Please excuse me.”

            “No,” Shen Jiu called out after him, his voice weak even to his own ears as he followed the sect leader out the front door. “Yue Qi, don’t you dare leave! Aren’t you going to say anything?!”

            The auxiliary sword the man always carried was under his feet fast as lightning, quickly lifting him up into the sky.

            “Yue Qingyuan, I am here! I am right here, just look at me!” Shen Jiu ran underneath him, dodging through the hazed shaped of people milling about the common areas before leaping up onto the rooftops of his peak as a feeling of desperation overtook him. “Don’t leave! Please don’t leave me again! I’m here!!”

            He ran until the rooftops disappeared, but there in the distance, the rainbow bridge shone under the sunlight. “Fine!” Shen Jiu thought, changing course as Yue Qingyuan grew faint in the sky. “If you will not stay here then I will go to Qiong Ding! See you escape me there, you bastard!”

            But as he raced through the gate, his feet struck upon the bridge only once, before the sensation of falling rushed up from under his ribs and he found himself hitting cold, hard earth. Not Qing Jing stood around him, its colors seeped away to a tired scale of gray. At once, he was aware of the silence that settled around him. The wind, the birds, and the quiet, overlapping echoes of life being lived that he had awoken to were once again gone. He groaned, pushing his hair back from his face as he sat up and regarded the solemn stone gate to the bridge, wherein the path lay empty, dropping down only to the swirling voids of mist below.

            Anger welled up from somewhere deep within him, but all Shen Jiu could find himself able to do was weep.

***

            He didn’t know how to do it on purpose, but he could always tell as soon as he awoke each time whether or not it would be on Not Qing Jing, or as a shadow to the new Shen Qingqiu.

            Sometimes he woke up in the bed, watching the other version of him do his paperwork and reports, sometimes they were teaching a class, others they were kneeling beside a sword mound in the back garden. He vaguely recognized the blade, but he didn’t care all that much about swords other than Xiu Ya.

            Xiu Ya was peerless, after all. Even Xuan Su, for all its mythical strength, lacked his blade’s elegant, cruel, and efficient grace. He could never have offered a piece of his soul to anything less than perfection, and Xiu Ya was surely the closest he would ever be able to find. It pleased him greatly, and he supposed he could forgive it for obeying its new master. He had left it with his will, after all.

            But if he woke up one more time to see the brat had left it carelessly tossed down on a table, he might reincarnate just so he could beat him with it properly.

            He wasn’t sure how long time stretched between his wakings as a ghost, but they were usually alone. On notable occasions, sometimes Yue Qingyuan would appear, and Shen Jiu would sit as close as he dared, pretending he was the one the man meant when he called “Shen-shidi”.

            He was thrown for quite a loop, then, when he had woken in his office, watching the day play out with no way to interfere, only to hear Yue Qingyuan call out for “Shen Yuan”.

            “So that’s his name,” he pondered. He flicked the fan he had on his belt open, startling slightly when Shen Yuan opened his as the same time, the double cracking sound louder than anything else he managed to hear.

            He frowned, feeling odd about such things, and flicked his fan closed.

            Shen Yuan also flicked his fan closed.

            “Huh…” Shen Jiu muttered, tilting his head to the side.

            Shen Yuan tilted his head to the side.

            Flick open, flick closed.

            His counterpart matched him, movement for movement.

[Congratulations, Host has discovered a new skill: Body Synchronicity!]

[Develop this skill to influence Host User movements and mannerisms!]

            “Well, now that’s interesting,” Shen Jiu thought, making Shen Yuan flick his fan back and forth some more. “I’m sure I could do something to entertain myself with this.”

***

            Practice came slowly.

            It took time to figure out the various things Shen Jiu could influence Shen Yuan to do, the other being seeming to be unaware of his influences. It was small, at first. The flick of his fan, the grasping of a teacup already in use, the shift of his expressions.

            It culminated, as all things seemed to for Shen Jiu, in the presence of Yue Qingyuan.

            He hadn’t truly thought that the fake peak lord would be so easy to influence to walk into the pond. He had simply been annoyed to see him sit so comfortably in the Sect Leader’s house telling ridiculous stories. Shen Yuan could have everything Shen Jiu had left behind- but Yue Qingyuan’s unbridled him-ness was not the actor’s to take. That didn’t, couldn’t, belong to anyone else. His friendship, fine, but not the deepest, secret, sacred parts of him. Even Shen Jiu had not been permitted as such. So, he directed the puppet lord outside.

            He didn’t mean to cause the man to deviate though.

            The surge of energy had been so sudden, so volatile, that he felt like it burned the edges of his soul, and as Shen Yuan tumbled down into the water, now glowing bright with spilling qi, Shen Jiu reacted on instinct.

            He hadn’t meant to cause him to deviate, but he was even more surprised when he tried to catch him that they collided and he could actually feel it. The rush enveloped him, and suddenly the world felt heavy, like a foreign hand trying to grab him through a thick blanket, pressing in too tight and too close and touching him in all the wrong ways that seemed impossible and yet-

            Hands were on him, the sensation of true touch so foreign that he snarled, teeth managing to latch onto the offender through the haze of too much, too much, toomuchtoomuchtoomuch!!!

            The feeling of hands, and moving, and wet and air and sound and pain and fear and- and- and-

            There was a sharp sting against his back, and Shen Jiu gratefully fell into the darkness.

***

            He awoke in his bed, feeing strange. A candle flickered to the side, and when Yue Qingyuan rushed over and looked at him, it felt like he was looking at him.

            “Yue-gege?” His lips called on their own, and he startled.

            He tried to speak, but his lips did not obey, nor did his feet when he urged them to swing over the side of the bed. There was, however an itch to move his arms toward the other man. He promptly squashed the urge. He didn’t know what was happening but he still had enough pride to not cling to Yue Qi’s robes, even as his eyes watered with tears that were not his.

            “Honestly,” he thought. “This pathetic display is what has him so endeared to the world? He’s so… weak.”

            The two spoke, neither seeming aware of their captive audience as they exchanged expressions of endearment.

            The sounds of “Yuan-Didi” burned in his heart.

***

            He… he supposed that Shen Yuan wasn’t a totally useless person. He did tend to have good advice for the children, although he was much too soft on them. The fact that they could even look at his face without fear was proof he was far too lax in his discipline regime.

            But… it didn’t seem to have any overarching problems, aside from sloppy belt knots and dopey smiles as the children mingled between classes.

            And he did have a way to make Liu Qingge, the brute, drop whatever nonsense he would bring and then flee stammering, which was… surprisingly delightful to watch some days. Similarly satisfying to watch him make Shang Qinghua squirm and squeak like the weak-willed rodent he was, even if the revelation that the An Ding Peak Lord and Yue Qingyuan could see the text demon that haunted them all, each with a slightly unique appearance, continued to unnerve him.

            Maybe it was multiple entities? Or branches from the same root?

            Regardless.

            Shen Yuan was… acceptable, to a point. Weak, yes. Careless, even more so. Unbelievably trusting and relentlessly kind to the point of stupidity more than anything. But… the peak wasn’t on fire, and his disciples weren’t running around like feral savages, local beast happily unseen.

            Where was that little monster anyway? Still skulking in the woodshed? Finally pushed himself into a deviation and died? Shen Yuan played his part and gutted him like a fish somewhere in the woods? Good. If Shen Jiu never woke up somewhere behind his own eyes to see the brat again, he could resist the urge to be a vengeful spirit.

            Maybe. He wasn’t exactly sure if that’s what this was already.

            Shen Yuan lived, and Yue Qi lived, and Shen Jiu watched over them from somewhere behind his own self, and made the puppet lord walk through their peak when he got bored.

            Shen Yuan didn’t seem to mind.

***

            THE BASTARD HAD GOTTEN THEM POISIONED?!?! FOR THE BEAST??!!?!

            He was going to grow a new body just so he could properly strangle the specter haunting his old one!! And the little git had better be dead or he was going to finish the job himself!!

[Host has received a new achievement tag! <YOU get a murder, and YOU get a murder!> Please continue to work hard to unlock new tags!]

[SYSTEM NOTICE: Companion Character ::YUE QINGYUAN:: has activated YQ Reward Tree- ^SJR INITIATION^. Initiation cannot be cancelled.]

[Please stand by for SJR Initiation Load In…. 1%]

[SJR Initiation… 2%]

            “Shut up!” he yelled, his spirit tugging at his hair as he watched from the side of the room as Shen Yuan hacked over the distress caused by his flair up. “I’m in the middle of plotting how to murder a moron!!”

[Host does not have System Permissions for User Dismissal. The system thanks you for your understanding! ]

            “Leave me!”

[Host is bound to System Server… System cannot be muted at this time. The System thanks you for your understanding!]

            He screamed, although he could not influence his body to express his displeasure.

***

            Binghe was horrifyingly close, Shen Jiu trying to force the legs of his body to move, only to tangle in the mess of robes Shen Yuan had dropped.

            “Release me!” he yelled, something shuddering in him as the body matched his voice.

            He had never used the body to speak before. It left him feeling heavier, like there was more weight to his soul where it hid in the shadows behind Shen Yuan’s.

[Congratulations! Host has advanced Host Skill- Body Synchronicity to the second level: Body Command! Please influence responsibly!]

            He forced his will, satisfaction filling him as his arm jerked away from the hated half-demon’s hold. He had always known the little monster would grow to something so ugly and unrefined! He had no right to touch his body, regardless of what spirit inhabited it!

            And he relished in moving the words through his voice, savoring the bite of it against his teeth.

            His dreams had been very vivid- he knew exactly what kinds of things a little beast like Luo Binghe might pull. But in his satisfaction, he had stopped directing Shen Yuan, and as he settled back into the space his soul shadowed him, he couldn’t influence him to turn fast enough to avoid the hand forcing blood down their throat.

            “Not again with this!” he cried in his heart. He hated the feeling of the blood parasites burrowing into him more than anything, it had been a heavy feature in his horrible visions.

            “Don’t worry Shizun,” the demon above smirked. “Even though heavenly demon blood is a filthy thing, it won’t kill you.”

            Shen Jiu continued to send impulses, encouraging Shen Yuan to fight, before the body suddenly went slack. The abrupt settling of a physical form had more points than Shen Jiu had been prepared to take on, and he gasped as they crashed to the ground, his hands twitching but unable to coordinate enough to get under him to move.

            “…shizun?” the heavenly demon asked over him, staring down at his form.

            “Don’t… pretend… to be… good natured now, beast,” he managed to hiss, his voice quiet as he had to split focus between trying to control his limbs and his head. It was so much harder than it had been when he was alive…

            Why couldn’t he move, damn it!? Panic was starting to well under his ribs, the memories of a future not yet come to pass settling in his mind.

            He didn’t want to remember the phantom pains that ran through him, feeling all to real as he dreamed of Luo Binghe grabbing his humerus and slowly pulling until the socket disconnected, continuing until his very flesh sundered itself under the slow, steady onslaught.

            He had been left to hang on hooks, or lay on the floor, just like this.

            Shen Yuan was supposed to fix it! I can’t go back… I have my body so MOVE!!

            He managed to slide a hand underneath, but the strength was meager, barely able to help him press against the wall. The burrowing of the parasites was making him nauseous, and the pain made his head spin.

            He vomited, weak and watery, hanging his head as the body that was no longer quite his fought against its natural impulses and his distant will.

            “Shizun… I didn’t…” the demon spoke above, and suddenly there were hands on him. He hissed, using all the power he could muster to try and pull away, but even with every pounding hit of command he tried to execute, the flesh in his control was weak without Shen Yuan’s consciousness to assist him.

            “Put… put me down!” Shen Jiu demanded as familiar fingers wrapped around his arms, pulling them up and away from his core as he was lifted into the air, and he thrashed as much as he could. “Do not touch me! You… you…! Stop! STOP!!”

            He gasped as his stomach suddenly rushed up, the sensation of falling cutting short as his back collided with the mediocre mattress on the bed, bouncing slightly.

            “Speak to me, if it is truly so terrible,” Luo Binghe said, leaning over him as his huadian slowly flickered into view. Shen Qingqiu turned his face away in his strongest available act of defiance. “I did not instruct such discomfort, so what is it that causes Shizun so much pain?”

            “I’m not… I’m not your Shizun.” And then he returned to his angered, fearful silence.

            The beast frowned. “I see. Well then…” He stepped away and Shen Qingqiu watched in confusion as he gathered up the layers of robes Shen Yuan had abandoned, draping them over a chair and kicking the furniture back into place. “You ought to rest, Peak Lord Shen. Tomorrow might be an auspicious day, after all.”

            The parasites in his blood writhed slightly, and Shen Jiu gagged, feeling pressure build rapidly behind his eyes before it suddenly burst and he fell into the waiting darkness.

***

            He was sitting on a dock, once again paper-thin against the world of rippling water and swaying marigolds. The lake reminded him vaguely, through the haze that rested heavily on his mind, of the one that rested behind the estate of his youth- the one he would sneak out to on nights where Qiu Jianluo was away on business, sitting with his feet in the water and consider running away again.

            In the end, he would always think of Qi-ge coming back for him, and he would consign himself to just a little more time, just a bit more patience, to be strong just a little bit longer so Qi-ge could find him when he came back any day.

            Qi-ge, obviously, had never come.

            But the lake wasn’t exactly the same. Maybe… maybe it wasn’t that one at all? No, this was the one he would visit with his siblings in the summer… no, no that wasn’t right…Shen Jiu didn’t have any siblings, just the other slaves and his fellow peak lords.

            “Hello Shizun,” came a voice, and he turned, catching the feeling of something sliding against him, separating before they moved flush together again. There was… him. He was familiar, and Shen Qingqiu knew at once that he didn’t like him. But they talked for a bit, for appearances sake if nothing else.

            “Who lives over there?” the man asked, gesturing to the house that had appeared on the other side of the lake.

            “Ah, so I was right the first time.”

            “The Qiu’s,” Shen Jiu said, spitting the name like the venom it was. He watched, satisfaction thrumming through him as the fire took over the building, spilling through the windows and scorching the stones. He could almost hear the phantom screams dancing like music on the wind.

            It had been good, to kill them. They deserved it, after all the sin they had permitted. If they were to behave as dogs, he had no qualms for putting them down like some too. Qiu Haitang had been the only one in the house with the possibility of innocence, and she had been the only one he carried out of the path of the flames.

            Ah, but the beastly one was talking to him again… what did he ask? What did he remember?

            “I remember…drawing,” he muttered, his thoughts wandering. “I was drawing something. I was…scared…I don’t remember.”

            “I lost something,” he heard himself say, and that feeling of separation slid over him again.

            “We both did,” he murmured, remembering that there was someone else important nearby… but who? Where? He turned down to look in the water, and for a brief moment, there was almost the illusion that there were two of him in the water.

            The second image turned, and he felt his own reflection follow, until they matched again.

            It was nice to not be alone… had he been alone before? He couldn’t quite…hm.

            His other reflection was talking again, addressing the one he didn’t like, and the feeling of something fighting through the haze was growing stronger.

            Why did he have two reflections? Who was this man who called him like a student calls their teacher, and why did his presence unsettle him so? The beautiful clouds overhead soured, turning heavy and gray as the atmosphere grew oppressive, a name carving through the fog at last.

            Luo Binghe.

            This man was Luo Binghe, the demon.

            The lake was boiling, and Shen Jiu felt his vision blur, the lakebed relaced with a cliff overlooking a pit of fire and resentment, a teenage boy teetering on the edge before him.

            Shen Yuan stabbed him in the chest and pushed him over the edge.

            That was it! That was the moment Shen Yuan was supposed to fix the trajectory of their cursed life. So what had gone wrong? Why was the demon still alive?!

            “What have I done?” his voice, Shen Yuan’s voice cried out. “Binghe is a good boy…”

            “He’s a demon!” Shen Jiu countered.

            “But he’s a good boy and I don’t deserve to be his Shizun!” He could feel Shen Yuan forcing them back from the abyssal fire.

            “He’s a demon, he shouldn’t have been my student to begin with. It was right!” He tried to get them to stand, but Shen Yuan was in too much disarray for him to find the qi points to influence.

            Shen Yuan continued to spiral, and Shen Jiu could feel that strange tether between them shifting, once again aware of their separate souls sharing the same space of ‘Shen Qingqiu’ as the lake fell away, and the fires took up on Qing Jing Peak.

            How he hated the feeling of these visions coming to haunt him once again. He was supposed to be done, damn it!

            “Shizun,” the monster before him called, and Shen Jiu finally got a grasp on one of his qi locks, taking control of things.

            “I’m not your Shizun,” he said coldly, baring his teeth as he threw the half-demon away, taking a great step backwards and hurling himself off the side of the mountain.

            The wind whistled and cut through him, bitterly cold. But as fast as it had begun, he felt himself crash into the grayed grass of Not Qing Jing-

[SJR Initiation at 55%]

[Luo Binghe heartbreak points: +300]

            -and cruel laughter erupted from his lips.

***

            He was… aware…in a way he had not been for quite some time. Yue Qi was near, the haze that usually separated him from the living world hardly more than a whisp between them. He watched, taking note of all the enemies situated around them, even as reinforcements arrived, descending towards the ridge.

            “When had Shang Qinghua finally grown a backbone?” he wondered as he took up a post next to Shen Yuan.

[Congratulations!] the writing demon suddenly chirped next to him. [You have successfully tagged in for the quest {{Qingqiu I See, Qingqiu You Do}}!]

[Quest Objective: Help your Transmigrator survive the Huan Hua Palace ambush!]

[Bonus Objective: Help your Transmigrator unlock his spiritual tools!]

[Reminder: Host cannot take dismissive actions against the protagonist. Host cannot reveal the identity of transmigrators. Host cannot reveal Host’s influence to disciples. Please continue to work hard!]

            They didn’t have much longer to wait before the fight broke out in earnest, Shen Jiu moving through as a specter, directing Shen Yuan’s movements as needed to make sure the little moron didn’t get himself killed before their communal problem was dealt with.

            As the fight continued, the demon continued to speak into his mind.

[SJR Initiation…98%]

[SJR Initiation…99%]

[SJR Initiation…100%]

            The world sharpened, the last of his haze vanishing like shadows before the sun. And each beat of his dead heart seemed to last forever as something bloomed in his core, fervent and warm amid the forever-chill of his haunted bones, pulling him towards the fake peak lord.

[Companion Mode Update… Completed! Host and Host User… Synchronized!]

[Companion Character ::SHEN JIU:: Initiated!]

[Enjoy the camaraderie!]

            “You’re an insult to my name,” Shen Jiu mocked, feeling a sense of realness settle over him, the qi points of his discarded mortal shell easier than ever to find, and he issued his commands. “Move with me, idiot, and use your own tools this time.”

            He directed the other’s qi, pulling as he would have to summon Xiu Ya from his own, and felt a smile stretch his lips as two battle fans settled into waiting hands, and a silvery flash bought Xiu Ya to his own. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt, the blade thrumming happily against his palm.

            Energy pounded through him as he shifted his stance, directing Shen Yuan to follow with the command, “Fight!”

            They moved in tandem, Shen Jiu directing them through the movements together, blade to fan, white to blue, light to dark, and they sang through the battlefield, a pounding, vibrating feeling of pure exhilaration showering through Shen Jiu’s spirit until only one Huan Hua good remained.

            “Finish it!” he commanded, pivoting on his back foot to cut around Shen Yuan’s back, slicing down from the right as Shen Yuan’s bladed fans cut up from the left, almost bisecting the man completely.

            Euphoria rushed through him, tinging his words with slightly less ice as he stepped back, looking at Shen Yuan with a scoff as he waved his fan. “What are you doing, waving that filthy thing around like an animal.” Maybe, he thought for not the first time, maybe Shen Yuan wasn’t such a bad choice to be his replacement. He definitely would still need refining, but… Shen Jiu could work with that.

            “He’s a filthy little beast that can’t even hold it’s own sword,” he said, gesturing to the weak demon on the other side of the ridge. “Finish it properly, this time.”

            “I’m not going to hurt him!” the fake lord exclaimed, making Shen Jiu’s body produce a horrified expression.

            Mm… maybe he would need to work a bit more on the refining than he thought. “Either you finish it, or I will.”

[Reminding Host- Protagonist Requirements must be met.]

            “Be silent, demon,” he hissed at the thing. Honestly, he hoped the thing would just vanish.

[…Host will comply within Set Parameters or will initiate the Void of his System Contract and be reset to initial defaults. Please take some time to consider your options thoroughly.]

            He gasped, turning to the thin lines of characters where they hovered, reaching up to hit it, only for the world to warp around him, and the grays of Not Qing Jing returned, vertigo rocking through him as the heaviness of the world left him.

            He heaved as nausea roiled, and something rumbled under his bones, and in the distance the fog whorled.

            “What’s happening?” he wondered, as dark shadows took shape behind the cover, and the area around him seemed to stutter- one moment it was Not Qing Jing, the next it was an endless expanse of black tiles, and then a strange conglomerate of tall buildings he couldn’t quite wrap his head around, and then back to his peak.

[Notice: additional data set acquired. Data set uploaded to System Server 1. Ambient Environment v.1 updated for additional information processing.]

            Shen Jiu took a step back, startling when he bumped into something. He turned, moving quickly, and instantly tensed at the image of his own startled face looking back.

            “Fuck…” Shen Yuan muttered as they caught each other’s eyes. “…uh…”

            They paused, Shen to Shen, in silence for a long, protracted moment.

            And then Shen Yuan turned and bolted off into the fog.

Chapter Text

            Shen Yuan was panicking, and he could definitely hear Shen Qingqiu, the real Shen Qingqiu (which, by the way, holy fuck!) give a shout and begin to chase after him, only pushing him to run faster. He wasn’t all too sure of what was going on, but he stored what little information he could gather while fleeing for his life… his afterlife?

            Regardless.

            They seemed to be in some nether realm that took on a sad, grayscale version of Qing Jing Peak, and Shen Yuan immediately directed himself into the thick stalks of bamboo, where heavy clouds of fog whirled between the trunks. He had gotten so good at hiding from his sticky disciples out there! The violent, no doubt absolutely pissed, peak lord would surely have trouble catching him with his level of evasion skills!

            (Who was he kidding, Shen Qingqiu was going to eat him alive. Never mind what he would do when he found out that Shen Yuan had detonated his core! Deaths number three and four for the win!)

            “Stop, you fool!” he could hear the would-be murderer call after him, in a tone Shen Yuan would have maybe even called panic if the man wasn’t an absolute stone-cold bitch. “Don’t go into the-!”

            The rest of what he had to say was lost as he crossed into the bamboo forest, and the fog swelled all around him. At once, there was only the sound of Shen Yuan’s own heavy breathing, his stumbling over the greenery, and the unsettling silence of the fog. Was it really that good at muffling? It was like there was no other sounds at all.

            “Aiya, how scary!!” he mused, only to jump halfway to the moon when he heard someone shouting ahead. “What? Who else could possibly be here?”

            He rushed, desperate to get out of that creepy fog and find someone he could actually get answers from without worrying about having a heart attack in the middle of the conversation.

***

            Shen Qingqiu gave chase, obviously, because that brat deserved a talking to and a half! But as the whorls of fog neared, he felt his hackles rise.

            “Stop, you fool! Don’t go into the fog!”

            But before he could even finish his warning, the other version of himself had disappeared into the roiling gray mist. He skid to a stop at the edge of the last pavilion, where only a few short steps waited between his form and the strange haze. He hesitated to go any further.

            He remembered, when he had first found himself in the clutches of Not Qing Jing, that he had wandered but a few paces into its swirling embrace before the haunting aura had descended. The injuries of the dead… the voices of the damned…the horrid, hunted ghosts of his past, left, waiting.

            Against all that urged him to leave his past in the past, to deny the very existence of the little slave called Xiao Jiu, Shen Qingqiu steeled his heart and flicked out his sleeves. Shen Yuan had been permitted many liberties in his assimilation of the peak lord’s life, but this was not to be sanctioned. He couldn’t be allowed to witness such things. With his mind made up and his hands shaking, Shen Jiu strode into the mist.

***

            So, Shen Yuan was pretty sure he was lost.

            How did one get lost on the mountain paths that he had been living on for the last seven years? Irrelevant. Clearly this was more of that wuxia fantasy nonsense that Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky had thrown in for convenience! Otherwise, how would Luo Binghe have been able to be the dashing, charming, and charismatic hero who led distressed damsels across their own territories only to papapa under the moonlight, huh?

            If he ever saw Shang Qinghua again, he was going to smack him with his fan. Maybe he could haunt him? Yeah…. Yeah, that could be fun! Shen Yuan could be a wicked cool and hella annoying ghost! And then he’d get to keep up with the plot as it played out!

            Luo Binghe may be the demonic lord of the three realms, but Shen Yuan still thought it would be cool to see now that the imminent threat (and actualization) of death had passed! It was Luo Binghe! Who wouldn’t want to see him be a dashing, suave, all-powerful commander of the world?? It seemed like he was a bit behind on the harem, but he had gotten out of the oven early, so maybe they were just waiting for him to swing by and pick them up once he finished baking! Maybe Shen Yuan would even be able to witness the power of the Protagonist Rizz, and if he was a ghost he could play spectral wingman!

            And-!

            His thoughts cut short as he tripped over a root, stumbling with an unrefined yelp and falling directly onto his face.

            Gods, how had anyone ever believed he was a genuine article???

            With a huff, he pulled himself off the ground, only to note that the vague outlines of bamboo stalks were gone, replaced by… huh?? A street? And in the middle of the street…

            Was that…?

            Was that a fucking 7-11?????!?!

            “What the fuck?” Shen Yuan questioned aloud, as his brain struggled to correlate the green and red neon sign over the whitewashed façade, tucked snuggly between what looked like a horse stable and a run-down cloth merchant.

            Even as he watched, the little red sign in the window buzzed to life, a cheery “We’re Open!” blinking on and off every few seconds.

            “What… the fuck?!?” Shen Yuan repeated, hesitantly approaching.

            He could see a fucking slurpee machine with Hatsune Miku painted on the side through the window. Right next to an actual fucking nacho bar. What the fuck? What the ACTUAL fuck?????

            To the side, seemingly on the other end of the street that had somehow materialized on the middle of his peak (fuck you, Airplane), there was that shouting again… Shen Yuan paused, his hand on the bar handle to the little convenience store.

            Where there was yelling, there was people… but… he had absolutely no idea what the fuck was going on anymore.

            The shouting started up again, and this time he could hear a higher pitch among them.

            “… I just had to go and be conditioned to be a gentleman, didn’t I?” Shen Yuan lamented, moving away from the little shop and down past the cloth merchant’s store, where several simple hanfu were on display. “I’m coming back for a fucking slurpee, don’t you dare fucking go anywhere.”

            The 7-11 regarded him in silence, it’s sign buzzing on and off dejectedly.

            The shouting was getting louder, and at that range, Shen Yuan could finally decipher some of what was going on. It sounded like a bunch of kids fighting.

            “-our spot, so you scram!” Yelled one of the older voices.

            “I don’t see your name on it! Not that it matters, because you’re too stupid to read it anyway!” The higher one cut in. “I was here first, so I don’t have to do what you tell me!”

            “Watch it, pipsqueak. Qi-ge isn’t here, so it’s just you against us and- OW! FUCK!”

            Shen Yuan ran, coming around the corner and into an alleyway, to see a group of street kids in tattered, too small robes. The smallest among them was currently latched onto the biggest, his teeth burrowed into the skin of the kid’s forearm, red streaking down.

            “GET OFF ME YOU FUCKING ANIMAL!!!” The boy swung hard, finally knocking the smaller one off, who barred his bloodied teeth.

            “Call me pipsqueak one more time, and I’ll bite your fucking fingers off, dog!!” the child yelled.

            “Ohhhhhhh, I’ve had enough of you! I don’t care if I get in trouble, you’re not worth the hassle!”

            It was then that the real violence began. The smallest kid was absolutely vicious, but he was still up against four larger boys. In a matter of a few moves, they were able to knock the little one to the ground, laughing as they all crowded together to kick at him.

            Shen Yuan tried to intervene, almost on instinct, but his hands passed through the scene and his voice fell on deaf ears. Whatever this was, he couldn’t stop it, as much as he ached to when he saw the smallest boy begin to cough, hacking lungfuls of blood from between his tiny fingers.

            In the distance, someone was calling.

            “Little beast!” one of the older boys snarled with a particularly harsh kick. “Qi-ge isn’t back until tomorrow. If I see you at the camp tonight, you’re dead, pipsqueak.”

            Once their thirst for violence was sated, the older boys ran off towards whatever voice had called for them, but Shen Yuan couldn’t tear his gaze away from the small form, huddled in the middle of the alleyway like a corpse. The little boy let out a few more painful sounding coughs, shaking as he got up on his hands and knees, to a point where Shen Yuan could get a good look at him.

            He was dirty, even for a street kid. Thick lines of ash and muck clung to his clothes. The pants were so tattered and short, they barely even covered his knobby, too-skinny knees, and the top was so small it couldn’t hide the emaciated line of his sternum peeking out between the battered lapels.

            Blood clung to the boy’s fingers, spreading in an unsettlingly vibrant smear across his cheek as he tried to wipe at his face. Dirt hid under his nails, and his hair fell in long, jumbled knots to his shoulders.

            Shen Yuan expected to see him cry, because surely he must have felt enormous pain, but the boy only slowly worked himself up onto his bare, dirty feet, and leaned against the wall, a look of silent, burning anger in his eyes.

            “The kid looks like a fucking serial killer waiting to happen!” Shen Yuan lamented as he trailed after the boy, more of the street emerging from the lingering fog as they walked. “With how quiet he is after such a beating, it really is too scary!”

            The boy walked for a while, and Shen Yuan followed him as he slunk through the alleyways, crawling over various buildings’ trashes and under broken fences, keeping one hand on his ribs and the other on the wall. Sometimes he stopped, leaning against whatever was near enough for a few moments before hissing and pressing onward.

            It was becoming increasingly apparent, to an increasingly distressed Shen Yuan, that this boy was very familiar with being beaten. But eventually, the boy stopped, and settled down with his dirty, knobby knees tucked under his chin, by the alleyway side door of a building. The colors weren’t so saturated, but it gave the illusion of red where the gauzy, fine curtains draped from the awnings and the light and laughter of a thriving nighttime business poured out.

            A brothel.

            The boy tucked his chin over his knees, and finally, finally, Shen Yuan could see the gentle trembling that ran through him. They both tensed as the side door opened, but the boy relaxed when a girl stepped out, her robes simple, but fine and clean, and an attractive arrangement of makeup painted over her features.

            Shen Yuan couldn’t help but feel that she definitely seemed too young to exist in such a place.

            Upon seeing her, the boy seemed to relax again, a little sniff managing to escape him as his eyes turned from rage to glossy, unshed tears.

            “Oh, dear,” the girl said, slipping out fully and closing the door most of the way as she crouched down. “Did you get into another fight with the other boys?”

            “They had it coming!” the little boy defended, venom in his voice. “They got us ran off the main street again, and then tried to take my spot!”

            “And where is Qi-di? You should stay with him.”

            The boy scoffed, tucking his knees in closer. “They sent him to help at the mine. He’s gone until tomorrow when they have to come back and pay extra if they wanna keep him.”

            “Oh, dear,” the girl sighed again, peeking back through the door. “Look, I have some scraps I can give you to eat, but you need to go back to the camp to sleep, ok?”

            “I can’t stay here?” The boy looked up at her, his face neutral and still somehow pleading. “I’ll sleep behind the rain barrel like last time! No one will know!”

            “The madam moved the rain barrels,” the girl said, shaking her head. “She found out kids have been hiding out back here, and she doesn’t like that. Go back to the camp.”

            “I’m already nine! I’m old enough to work!”

            “You don’t want to work here, Lùzhū.”

            “But you left to work here! They even said you get to sleep in a bed and eat every day, and sometimes even twice!”

            “Because the madam bought me to work here,” the girl said, shaking her head, a measure of steel entering her voice. “And it isn’t fun. The men who… buy things here… they’re very mean. It’s not suitable for you.”

            “But Yi-Jie!”

            “Lan Minghua!” an older woman’s voice called out. “Just what are you doing out there?”

            The girl blanched, standing and looking at the door and back down at the boy. “Uh… I am just… throwing out some old incense ash as a patron asked, Madam.”

            “Well hurry up! The Chen brothers are here again and don’t want to be kept waiting!”

            “Oh- of course, Madam. Right away, Madam,” the girl said, fumbling to reach inside the door and push a small bundle of something into the little boy’s hands. “Take this,” she whispered in a rush. “Now go find somewhere safe to eat it. And stay out of trouble until Qi-di gets back, alright?”

            “…” The boy looked up at her with sad, empty eyes before nodding slightly. “Ok, Yi-Jie.”

            “GIRL!” came the madam’s harsh call, and with one more rushed farewell and a gentle push up onto his feet, she left the boy alone, ducking back inside.

            The boy clutched the parcel to his chest, slinking back out into the shadows of the night, and Shen Yuan watched as he eventually settled down behind the broken slats of an old wagon turned up on its side, hiding between the slats and the crumbling stone wall.

            His little gift consisted of nothing more than a few crusts of bread, and a few molding pieces of fruit. He ate it like it was a feast for a king before curling up on his side and pretending to sleep.

            Shen Yuan could see his eyes track every shadow that passed by.

***

            Shen Qingqiu wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking at.

            The fog had given way at last, first to black tile, and then to white. His boots clicked softly with each step, carrying him through a strange hall filled with closed, somber doorways. He had expected the view to change, the memories hiding in the fog had promised as much, but…

            This was not his memory.

            There was a methodical sound coming from a room at the end of the hall, it’s door barely ajar, allowing a strip of light to pour through into the shadows where Shen Jiu lurked. He slunk closer, making an effort to quiet his steps as much as he could as he angled to peer through the small sliver of space.

            There was a strange bed in the center of the room, swallowed under a mass of colored wires and severe, white linens.

            The body in the bed was his.

            Or, at least, he had initially thought as much. On closer inspection, there were a few differences between them. The hair was still fairly long, but much shorter than Shen Qingqiu’s own, and the face was maybe four fifths resembling Shen Jiu from much younger years, their few differences made more apparent by the grey-tinged pallidness of the hallow cheeks and the dark circles under the closed eyes. That strange, methodical sound continued, pulsing in time to a small burst of light from one of the crystalline artifacts around the room.

            This person was clearly ravaged by illness. If not for such a state, it might have been obvious to call them brothers. But the lingering aspects of disease took the few features they differed and smeared them loudly across the scene, masking the many that they shared.

            “What is this?” Shen Qingqiu thought. “Some kind of sick house?”

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            So these were Shen Yuan’s memories…

            Interesting, but unideal- as that meant he had somehow gotten turned around and the whelp was still off somewhere else. Unless the Shen Yuan in the bed was the actual one? Shen Qingqiu slipped into the room cautiously, and approached the defenseless body.

            His hand passed right through it when he tried to check the meridians.

            So just a memory then.

            The visage of Shen Yuan stirred though, his eyes cracking open with apparent difficulty to reveal dull, hollow green eyes. “Meimei?”

            “Sorry, Yuan, I didn’t mean to wake you,” a voice said from behind him, and he turned to see a young woman in trousers of all things with a strange mask over her lower features. She wore no outer robes, not even a sheer overlay that a courtesan might taunt a man with. Absolutely shameless!! “Shen Minai isn’t back yet, remember? She’s still in New York with your mother.”

            “Oh…” Shen Yuan said weakly, seeming disappointed, but not seeming to care about the absolute absurdity of how little the woman was wearing as she stepped further into the room. “How’s it looking, Nurse Lin?”

            “Shen Yuan’s will is strong, like always,” the nurse answered kindly, flitting between the crystal screens and writing things down. “Keep up the good work and you’ll be discharged home in no time.”

            “Maybe this time it’ll stick,” Shen Yuan said with a weak laugh. “Nurse Lin is nice, but I like my own bed better. I just got my own apartment downtown, you know? Can’t let it get all dusty while I’m cooped up here, or Niang will make me go back to the big house with the maid.”

            “Nothing beats the bed you know,” the woman agreed, her eyes crinkling above her mask. “I’m sure Shen Yuan will get to go back to his bed and his books very soon. But it’s still early, the sun is not even up. You should rest more. It will help your body heal.”

            “Mm…” the young man hummed. “If my Meimei calls, will you wake me?”

            “Of course, Yuan,” the nurse assured. “I’ll be looking after you all day, so you don’t need to worry.”

            “Mm… alright,” Shen Yuan said, his heavy, tired-looking eyes already drifting closed again.

            The room warped, fog rushing up to Shen Qingqiu’s senses faster than he could try to evade, the monotonous pinging growing to a skull-rending volume before abruptly cutting off.

***

            The boy was bigger now.

            He was still small, all things considered, but if he looked six when he was nine, this apparent ten-year-old was probably closer to thirteen, and well…

            Shen Yuan was starting to notice some things.

            Things like green eyes… really green eyes. Fancy eye colors were for important characters.

            And a mean streak. A very very mean streak.

            And a bumbling kid called Qi-ge who was always calling for Xiao Jiu and-

            Well shit.

            It fucking sucked that this was how Shen Jiu and Yue Qingyuan knew each other. The sect leader had confided in him that he and the original goods had grown up in the same city, but he had assumed it was like little lord playdates on ‘my Papah’s Estate’ and learning how to direct missives, or pre-sect cultivator boarding school or something, not… not being literal slaves together!!

            No fucking wonder Yue-gege never wanted to talk about it! This shit sucked!!!

            Shen Yuan thought back to his flight with Yue-gege from the water prison, and how the older man had effortlessly guided him through the winding, dirty back alleys of that settlement, into the home of a freedom runner who he knew by name.

            A freedom runner who had cared for the two boys before she had been separated from them. Was she the girl from the brothel? No… the names didn’t match. Unless she had changed hers after her escape?

            The girl from the brothel… a girl, from a brothel, who Shen Jiu had called for like an older sister. Whose brothel he lingered at. Because she was sneaking things to help him. And she was young enough to still potentially be under contract somewhere, or old enough to have started one of her own. And the freedom runner had mentioned girls having something ready for Shen Qingqiu to gather, but he hadn’t been by in a while.

            Shen Qingqiu. Who was known to frequent brothels. Run by girls.

            Girls like his sisters. Who would help him and the other slaves seeking escape. Who, according to Yue-gege, would spy for them.

            From brothels. Where men of all standings went to be terrible and stupid and speak without inhibitions.

            Brothels Shen Yuan had been purposefully avoiding in order to try and stave off rumors of lecherous behavior.

            Shen Yuan was connecting the dots. Dots were being connected. The wheels were wheeling and holy fuck was he not prepared for where they were leading him. Shen Jiu (former slave) had, at some point, escaped a master, fled to Cang Qiong with Yue Qingyuan (also a former slave!) and somehow, became the two most authoritative cultivators in the entire world until the literal Unholy Son of Fate showed up to dethrone them.

            And now, Shen Yuan had been bumped into the middle of the work, disrupted the spy network, ruined the original flavor’s cultivation, accidentally stole a major life secret from both of them, and now he was still here! He was standing right here as the boy, who could only have been tiny, malnourished aforementioned teenage slave was made to kneel at a desk that was probably the nicest piece of furniture he’d ever seen in his life before making it to Qing Jing, slowly copying down the characters of his name with all the wrong stroke orders, but still managing to make a clean, legible print.

            Only to have his hands struck with a switch.

            “Do it again,” the young man in purple ordered as he paced around the boy like a wolf waiting for it’s prey to bolt. “And sit up straight.”

            Shen Jiu had already seemed like he had perfect posture, but with a clench of his jaw, he somehow managed to angle his spine even higher, the angle only broken when it reached his bowed head.

            “Yes, master,” the boy responded, picking the brush up from where it had been knocked out of his hands. Shen Yuan could tell that even though his voice was not disrespectful, there was an undercurrent to it.

            A dangerous one.

            Shen Yuan was forced to watch each attempt, and flinched as each ended with Shen Jiu being hit.

            “Write your name,” the young man ordered, whipping the switch against Shen Jiu’s back so hard the younger boy yelped.

            “Yes, master.” The anger in his voice was still trying to hide, but it couldn’t mask the desperation as the boy tried to obey, his writing having long since devolved into a messy, barely legible scrawl across the page as welts raised on his fingers.

            The master was still unsatisfied.

            “I said write. Your. Name.” The older boy punctuated each word with a strike.

            “I am!” Shen Jiu finally cried, shaking as he keeled over. “I am writing it!”

            “SIT UP!” the young man roared, and the boy instantly obeyed, his eyes glassy as he hitched uneven breaths, shoulders straight and spine like a rod. “You haven’t written your name. Do you know why?”

            “…” Shen Jiu waited silently, a single, angry tear managing to track down his cheek, hidden from his owner by a tangled strand of his bangs.

            “Answer me, you ungrateful little whelp.”

            “No, sir.”

            “Excuse me?”

            “No, Master, this Shen Jiu is too stupid to understand what he is doing wrong.”

            “Better,” the man said, swiping the sheet Shen Jiu had been writing on. The boy gasped as it was hovered over the candle on the desk, let to catch alight and burn into nothing. “You’re from the street, so you’re stupid. But don’t worry. I, Qiu Jianluo, am a good master. You have been brought into my home, and so it is my responsibility to teach you.”

            Shen Yuan felt like there were bugs crawling around under his skin as Qiu Jianluo smiled in a way that might have been handsome if not for the aura of the exchange, and let the ashes fall to his desk, swiping a finger through them. This didn’t seem anything like the kind brotherly relationship his sister had lamented about in her quest to tarnish him.

            “This,” the slave owner said, extending the dirty tip of his finger, his voice suddenly sweet like honey. “This is what you are. This is all you will ever be, on your own. You come from the dirt, and when all is said and done, you will return there. But I am kind, no? I have brought you into my home. I have ordered my servants to clean you. I have given you clothes to wear, and food to eat. I will permit you to use the foolish name you are so clearly attached to.

            “But this,” he continued, rubbing the soot between his fingers. “This is why you are wrong. Names, little pet, are for people. And you aren’t one. You may answer to Shen Jiu when my sister calls, but you are never, ever to forget that it is not a name- it is a production number. A number you were assigned to remind you where your real place is. You may be washed, and fed, and clothed, but it was at my bidding. You come from dirt. You will always be dirt. It is only my kindness to my sister that cleans you from the sin of your birth, do you understand?”

            “…this… this worthless one understands, Master.” Tracks of tears traced down the boy’s face, and Shen Yuan felt something like his heart was being ripped in half, even as Qiu Jianluo grabbed the young Shen Qingqiu by the chin and forced his gaze straight.

            “As a child of dirt, you must be educated if you are to be around my kin. We begin, now. I will educate you, and you will thank me. If you cannot handle this, you are unfit for this world.”

            “…” Shen Jiu may have had tears in his eyes, but they could not wholly mask his anger, even as Qiu Jianluo abruptly struck him across the face, snarling after until Shen Jiu managed to grind out his thanks.

            Again. And again. And again, until the little boy slumped over, and could not rise on his own again. Qiu Jianluo laughed, and ordered for him to be drug out by his hair.

            Shen Yuan was going to be sick.

***

            Shen Qingqiu had the distinct feeling of being watched, even though he knew it was only him and yet another specter of Shen Yuan with a guest in the room. The living space was… unique, Shen Qingqiu thought. The windows were made of glass, the whole window, from edge to edge, and they were as clear as the air, letting the whole horizon of light from strange, tall buildings steepling into the night sky paint the view.

            He’d had to touch, to assure himself they were there at all.

            He’d been through many of these moments with his interloper, but this was the first time that his sight had cleared to see something other than yet another strange bed, with more strange wires, and even more scantily clad people calling themselves medical professionals who Shen Yuan seemed to all know by name.

            If he thought the nurses were improper, he had no idea how he hadn’t choked on his own stale blood by now.

            Shen Yuan was sitting, nay, lounging, like an entire whore on a seat, his legs crossed at the ankles across several cushions in front of him as he chatted aimlessly about something called a ‘rendering engine’ with a young woman, the dark fabric on his legs barely coming to the middle of his thigh, and his long, white top sheer enough across the shoulders that Shen Qingqiu could see his collarbones.

            It didn’t even have sleeves!!

            And yet! And yet!!!!! He wore socks. Long socks. Socks that had absolutely no business to be that long! If you were going to wear socks up past your knees, Shen Yuan, you could have just finished putting on trousers!!!!

            And his ears were pierced! Pierced!!! Small iridescent jewels hung in strings from his lobes, catching the light against his dark hair that had finally been washed and pulled back halfway. He could afford crystals and jewelry and a home that could fit the majority of the bamboo house in its receiving room, but he lacked the means to finish paying his seamer for proper garments?!

            He was being scandalized and the writing demon refused to tell him how he was to exit such a snare!

            “San-ge, you really should look into writing for some of those tech editorials,” the girl said with a laugh. “You have the heart for it, really. I wish the people working them had half as much spirit about the matter as you. And, given that I even understood half of what you just said, it would probably be nice for people learning the basics too!”

            “Eh,” Shen Yuan dismissed with a casual wave. “I don’t think so. Those spots usually want long term beta testers and editorials. I wouldn’t be a good fit.”

            “But…” the girl paused, turning a loose thread in her long, perfectly respectable overlayer that hung elegantly over a modest dress. “I thought the new medicine was helping?”

            Shen Qingqiu watched as Shen Yuan’s face did something strange. “It… it is. I feel really great! My ribs don’t even ache all that much today!”

            “So, if the medicine is working, shouldn’t you… maybe… branch out a little?” She smiled, soft and kind, and Shen Qingqiu was confused as it seemed to make his counterpart falter, his face falling.

            “Meimei… is right.” Suddenly a sunny smile spread over his face, nearly blinding. “The future is bright, thanks to all the efforts Die and Niang have put in with Doctor Wu! Tell you what, as soon as I’m caught up with my book tonight, I’ll look at putting in some applications!”

            “Really?!” The girl leaned forward, a sense of excitement filling her posture. “You mean it?!”

            “Pah! Of course I mean it! I’m your San-ge, after all! I have to set just as good of an example as Da-ge and Er-ge too! We can’t have little Meimei grow up to be a slacker!”

            “San-ge,” she giggled, playfully punching his arm. “I’m not a toddler! I’m already in university and I turn nineteen next month!”

            “See! Not even in the second decade, we’ve got oodles of time before you grow up!”

            “You’re barely older than me!”

            “Ah, but I am older!”

            “San-ge!”

            They laughed, and teased, even as the girl excused herself and Shen Qingqiu seethed for a reason he couldn’t quite place. But his anger turned to confusion as soon as the door closed behind the girl, and the doppelganger’s face fell, sullen once more.

            His hand moved to clutch at his chest, and Shen Qingqiu could see his throat working, his jaw clenched, but eventually the younger man began to cough.

            It was a sickly sound.

            He hacked, and heaved, bent over at the waist against the door, clutching at his barely-covered chest until he was wheezing, drool and spittle dripping over his chin as small, vibrant flecks of red dripped onto the pristine white tile floors from his lips.

            “Sorry, Meimei,” Shen Yuan of the past whispered once his fit had passed, a hollowness to his gaze. “San-ge is just a liar who can’t bear to see you sad.”

            Something in Shen Qingqiu twisted at the words.

***

            They were in the room again, and Shen Yuan despaired.

            Qiu Jianluo…was a truly terrible, awful person! Shen Yuan’s eyes had long since lost the war of his repressing, tears spilling freely as he watched the boy who would grow into a peak lord be treated in all sorts of terrible ways.

            It was clear where he had developed his ideas for Luo Binghe from.

            From plain beatings to being strung up, from being forced to not eat for days, to being made to do all manner of unsavory tasks… Qiu Jianluo was truly the blueprint from which all the rest of the abuse had been designed.

            At least Shen Qingqiu had never brought out the knife.

            Shen Yuan knew he could not interfere, this was only a memory, but still he tried to pull the boy away from the glint of steel at his back. Still he tried to comfort his cries of pain with the hollow reassurance that it would not last forever. Still he silently curled beside him when he was finally left alone in the old storage room that had become his cage, his spectral hands curled protectively around his tangled hair, careful not to touch.

            It didn’t seem right to, when he had already had so many unwanted hands on him.

            Shen Jiu screamed, when it happened. He always did. He was too young and frail not to. But still, when the amusement of his captor faded and he was tossed back into the dark, the boy did not cry. It was as though the moment the door closed behind the heir that all feeling froze out of the teenager.

            That made Shen Yuan weep perhaps most of all.

            “Xiao Jiu!” came a sudden whisper, and the boy sat up like a bolt of lightning. “Xiao Jiu, are you in there? Its me!”

            “Qi-ge?!” Shen Jiu crawled over to where the old wood had started to rot through the wall by the door, peeling back one of the weak, cracked boards he’d found in a previous memory. “What are you doing here?!”

            “I snuck in!” There was a rattling sound at the door. “Be quieter, I’ll get you out!”

            “It’s no use,” Shen Jiu whispered in a rush. “Theres six locks on both sides, and Qiu- and Master is the only one who has the keys. Even the windows are sealed!”

            “…” There was a pause on the other side, the door rattling one more time before falling silent. “I…I can’t get you out this time…but I will! I definitely will! Did they hurt you?”

            “Hurt me?” Shen Jiu hissed. “Of course they fucking hurt me! I get beaten every day, and I’ve got broken bones all over! I can’t hardly even stand, let alone walk!”

            “It’s my fault,” the little Yue Qingyuan said, sounding aggrieved.

            “You’re right it is!” Shen Jiu agreed viciously. Shen Yuan was still surprised he had ever managed to make friends with the other boy at all, if this was their tearful reunion. “If you had just left that idiot, I wouldn’t have had to help you! But you didn’t, so I did, and now I’m stuck here!!”

            “Qi-ge let Xiao Jiu’s loyalty bring him harm, unforgivable. But I’ll pay it back to you in the future!”

            “As if!” Shen Jiu huffed. “Your future is being exactly like the people who sell us. A trafficker. No, actually, you’re too soft for that. You’ll die an early death trying to be nice to someone and nobody will be surprised. Go back to the camp, Qi-ge, and try to grow a backbone.”

            “That’s part of why I snuck in here,” Yue Qi whispered. “Xiao Jiu… I’m leaving.”

            “Ah!” Shen Yuan felt his heart lighten. “Surely this was the point in time where Shen Jiu and Yue Qi, daring freedom runners, made their escape and found their way to the twelve peaks! It had to be! The torment was coming to an end!”

            “What?” Shen Yuan watched as the young boy’s expression melted, his stoic features changing to shock. “What do you mean, you’re leaving?”

            “I mean I can’t stay here any longer,” Yue Qi answered. “The Qiu family has too much control over the city, and I can’t stand being rented out again. So I’m going. I wanted to bring you with me, if you wanted, or say goodbye if you didn’t. But I can’t get you out, so...”

            “Um? Yue Qi, bro? This is where you’re supposed to make the daring rescue! Why do you sound lik you’re saying a tearful farewell?”

            “Where would you even go?” Shen Jiu asked.

            “There are hundreds of cultivation sects in this world. I’ll apply to all of them if I have to. And then, when I have learned their techniques, I’ll come back for you!”

            Shen Jiu sat back from the small crack a bit, seeming to ponder the new information before he leaned back in, a small, unexpected smile gracing his usually dour expression. “Qiu Haitang says her brother leaves the estate for business every month on the full moon, and is gone for a whole day and night. Come back for me then, and it will be easier for us to get out.”

            “I will! Xiao Jiu, I absolutely promise I will! Qi-ge will become strong, and then I’ll take you back to whatever sect I find, and we’ll teach you too!”

            Shen Yuan, known observer of literary tropes, could feel little flags popping up all over the place. Yue-gege had an outright obsession with the full moon, and the little tea service he would pour but never touch. A fourth setting at a table for three… And a martial brother who despised him.

            “And you had better be careful!” Shen Jiu admonished. “You always get too excited and end up making mistakes. This time it was me, but you absolutely cannot be rash! I’ll be waiting for you, so you can’t mess it up, alright?”

            “Xiao Jiu is absolutely right,” Yue Qi agreed. “I’ll train hard, and come back for you, and we’ll be together again.”

            There was a long beat of silence from the other side of the door, and Shen Jiu eventually reached out, his fingertips brushing along the rough wood. “Are you gone?”

            “No,” Yue Qi said quietly from the other side, and Shen Yuan once again had the gut wrenching feeling that he was imposing on a private moment. “I… just a little bit longer…”

            “Come closer to this gap here,” Shen Jiu said, sticking one of his fingers out of the small opening. “Let me see your face before you go, since we don’t know if you-… since we don’t know how long it will be until we meet again.”

            They both seemed to catch the unsaid “since we don’t know if you’ll die before you make it” that the younger boy had cut off.

            Shen Yuan watched as the two boys lined up on either side of the gap in the wall, barely big enough for them to each reach a pointer finger through, meeting in the middle and catching each other’s gazes.

            “You have to be strong,” Shen Jiu whispered fervently, a smile painting his bloody teeth. “I’m waiting for you, alright?”

            “You won’t be waiting for long, Xiao Jiu. Qi-ge promises.”

            “Qi-ge never breaks a promise,” the younger boy nodded. “Now go, before the guards come back and we’re both turned into beating rods.”

            “Until a full moon,” Qi-ge promised.

            “Until a full moon,” Shen Jiu agreed.

***

            Shen Yuan was… weird, Shen Qingqiu had decided for lack of a better word. Obviously, Shen Qingqiu had suspected as much through the moments he watched the man try to play his part as a peak lord, notably often awkward or as though speaking in tongues.

            But to see it in the context of his proper origins was almost… Shen Qingqiu found he couldn’t quite place the feeling that was curling up under his ribs the longer he wandered through the scattered memories.

            Shen Yuan had a surplus of every luxury, but the only two people to visit his residence were seemingly his younger sister and his second brother, who reminded him far too much of Qi-ge to be comfortable. Others were mentioned, of course. There was the eldest sibling, and the parents who would pay for anything the young man asked, but never seemed to have the time to visit in person.

            And Shen Yuan didn’t seem in any rush to go out into the world himself. If his memories were not of the sick house, they were of the receiving room, and, for the first notable occasion this time, his sleeping quarters. Even then, he did not do much.

            In terms of friendship, he had none. In terms of hobbies, there were only days spent from dawn to dusk in front of the gently humming crystal screens, that changed at his touch and spoke when he commanded the spirits inside. On rare occasions, he had witnessed him pick up a stringed instrument Shen Qingqiu was not familiar with, stumming a few leadless notes for a time before it, too, was set aside.

            But, for all his lonesome qualities, even here, Shen Yuan was not quiet.

            At present, he was forcing one of the crystal spirits to produce a jarring sound only an ill-educated child might call music. It was far too loud, and Shen Yuan only gave orders for it to become louder even as he flopped and slowly spun all over the room like a discombobulated toddler, once again wearing a scandalous outfit of trousers that barely passed his knee and a shirt that exposed his shoulders and midriff.

            And again with the socks!

            “This man had better not have given me the reputation of the one being the whore,” Shen Qingqiu thought viciously, covering his ears and stamping down on any part of his dead soul that thought about the appeal of the heavy underlying beat. “This is a base display to be ashamed of!”

            Suddenly, the cacophony stopped, and the crystal’s spirit spoke in a tired, monotone voice. “Front door lock.” And the chaos of sound resumed.

            “Hey Siri,” Shen Yuan called, sweeping his hair back into a bun as he hopped off where he had been slowly flailing on the seating. “Cut the music.”

            “Music paused,” the spirit acknowledged, just as Shen Yuan exited his sleeping space into the main area once more, the front door open to reveal aforementioned elder brother.

            “You told Niang you weren’t coming to the gala?” the brother said angrily as way of introduction.

            “Hello to you too, Er-ge,” Shen Yuan deadpanned, his excited expression dulling. “What have I said about barging in here just to yell at me?”

            “Don’t take that tone with me, Shen Yuan, this is serious!” The door slammed shut behind him and Shen Qingqiu could see the way it made the other tense, his shoulders hiking up to his ears.

            “I’m not trying to make it a big deal, Er-ge,” Shen Yuan defended, turning his face away. “You’ll only be on stage for thirty seconds anyway.”

            “The entire family is going to be there! This is my recognition, and I worked hard for it!”

            “And I’m happy for you!” Shen Yuan said, his eyes growing wide. “I really am! I know its important to you. I just…”

            “You just don’t want to come support me now that its actually happening?” his brother said, voice quiet and dangerous.

            “Of course I want to support you,” Shen Yuan defended. “I’ll be at the luncheon at the house, and I already have a nice gift picked out for you to say congratulations!”

            “But you won’t come to the ceremony?” The elder Shen watched on, his gaze boring holes into Shen Yuan’s temples.

            “Look, I love you, and I love our family. I do,” Shen Yuan sighed. “But… a whole gala, Er-ge? That’s what? Six hours? And Da-ge has his presentations, and Meimei has her recital that week too, and I don’t… I don’t know that I can make all the events, so I’m trying to pick the ones that feel the most important to us, ok? Of course I know you’ve worked yourself to the bone to be recognized by the board, ok? I get that. But if I have to pick and choose, I would rather be at the intimate family gathering with the relatives I actually like as opposed to a whole excursion full of strangers where I won’t even get to see you for most of it.”

            The elder Shen looked at him sternly for a long, tense moment. “You told Meimei your new medications were helping. But you still can’t go out?”

            Shen Yuan sighed, rubbing a hand over his face with a mumble.

            “What was that?” the brother demanded.

            “I said I lied, ok?!” Shen Yuan suddenly yelled. “She was over here, and we were talking about the new gaming engine, and she mentioned applying for a job, and she looked so happy, and I just…I couldn’t tell her that we had to stop them.”

            “Stop them?! Why?!”

            “They were fucking up the blood counts!” Shen Yuan said, gesturing wildly. “There’s no point in taking one medication if the next one immediately undoes the fixing! And then you pair them weird and you get all the stupid side effects and then you’re taking even more medication to try and fix the problems being caused by the first medication to fix the actual problem, and then your body develops a resistance to both and- and…” He sighed, collapsing down onto one of the many cushioned seats. “And at some point, Er-ge, it just…stops being worth it.”

            “Well… what’s the next plan?”

            “There isn’t one,” Shen Yuan said darkly. “They’re out of ideas.”

            “There has to be something!”

            “Like what?” Shen Yuan asked, looking up. “I have a disease that no one knows how to explain. Everyone we have thought might have the same condition has turned out to not be a match. Every medication we have tried has only delayed the inevitable.”

            “Don’t say that,” his brother cut in.

            “It’s true.”

            “Don’t say that!”

            “ITS TRUE!” Shen Yuan yelled, tears gathering in his eyes. “I am dying, Er-ge! We can try every medication under the sun, but at the end of the day I am dying! From the moment I was born, I have been dying. Obviously I don’t want to. But at some point, at some point, we can’t pretend anymore. And if I can’t guarantee a long life, I want to have an enjoyable one. Of course I want to spend time with our family, but just our family.”

            “Yuan…”

            “Our cousins are dicks, dude. And so are our aunts. I don’t want to have to waste six hours of whatever I have left fielding their fucked up comments and trying to not get Gangshi’s Russian roulette cocaine seltzer on my shoes. If I am not out with someone who is at least fifty percent of a genome match, I do not want to be out.”

            “So you’re just going to sit in here, pretending like nothing is wrong, listening to shitty music and reading webnovels?”

            “At least I know the webnovel will have a happy ending, if I’m alive long enough to see it!” Shen Yuan defended. “I would rather think about the semantics of how you would combine a giant spider with a porcupine and a peacock than how my own death is slowly inching its way closer no matter what I do, and that at some point, one of you is going to unlock that door and find my corpse!”

            “Why…why wouldn’t you just say something?” his bother demanded, his own tears gathering in his eyes.

            “That!” Shen Yuan exclaimed, pointing. “That expression, right there! That’s why I didn’t say anything, because now everything we do together will have that all over it!”

            “Sadness?!”

            “YES!!” Shen Yuan screamed, throwing one of the many pillows. “I just wanted to go out with happy memories, but now everyone is going to drop everything to try and spend time with me, which means they’re going to be neglecting their own pursuits, and then, when things don’t work out the way you all want, I will have managed to cause problems from even beyond the grave!”

            “You don’t cause problems!”

            “I am a walking problem advertisement!!” Shen Yuan’s tears tracked angrily down his face. “I know all the tests they have to run on me every time I have to go to the hospital! I know how intensive the isolation wards have to be when they suppress my systems! I know how much it takes to have the best doctors in the world on standby for a freak who can’t even explain what’s wrong!! Every day that I wake up and breathe, I cost our family a fortune and frankly? I’m glad its done!”

            “Don’t say that!!”

            “If I’m going to die anyway, I wanna go to the fucking zoo!” Shen Yuan scrubbed at his eyes. “I wanna go to the zoo and not give a damn if there are other people around me! I wanna meet people who share my hobbies, I wanna go to a nerd convention, I wanna see the world instead of just hearing about it over the phone! I wanna go to New York with Niang and see the rig Die is building for the institute! I want to see it! I’m sick of being the weak one who can’t do anything, or be anything that matters other than the charity case! I wanna LIVE Er-ge, not just be alive, and if I can’t have that then just let me be happy on the way out!”

            Shen Qingqiu watched, detached, as Shen Yuan collapsed to his knees, a terrible, soul-wracking coughing fit tearing through him, his brother pulling him into his arms as something for the peak lord seemed to settle as he watched the brothers cry.

            As a cultivator, Shen Qingqiu had surpassed all the limitations of mortal physicality. His body did not need sustenance, nor sleep. It did not grow tired, weary, or sick. As long as the tenants of his cultivation were followed, Shen Qingqiu’s body was all but guaranteed a permanent, perfect form.

            He remembered how it had felt, to be a wan little child with no strength to his body. How it felt the first time he had been strong enough to beat a peer in a fight. How he had suffered, throwing stones with Yue Qi to gain muscle needed to wield a sword.

            He remembered, how it felt when he realized he was no longer weak, and suddenly, he wondered if Shen Yuan had felt the same when he awoke in a body that no longer knew the meaning of hardship.

***

            “Please,” Shen Jiu was saying, kneeling in front of the Qiu siblings in the brother’s office. His hair had long since become accustomed to being tied into a neat tail at the crown of his head, his slave garb traded for that of a rising house servant. If one did not know of the silenced screams he released in the night, he might have seemed like a doted upon little brother. “If I must beg, I will beg, but please let me go.”

            “Xiao Jiu,” Qiu Haitang whined. “If you go off with that cultivator, we will have to wait until your training is done to get married!”

            “Indeed,” Qiu Jianluo said, his voice sweet even as his eyes promised retribution from behind the girl’s chair. “Our precious, precious Xiao Jiu could never leave us. We would miss him too much, and what then would become of our cheer? You may not go.”

            “Please,” the boy, now fifteen begged, his forehead nearly touching the floor with how he prostrated himself. “If… if I do not try, if I do not know… I will never find peace. And to be a cultivator will bring honor to our union, to bring such a lowly one to be more suited as a match for Lady Qiu’s regard.”

            “Xiao Jiu…” Qiu Haitang seemed moved, her expression softening. “Is it really so important to you?”

            “Yes,” the boy pleaded. “I will do nothing in my absence but speak kindly of you, and I will always-“

            “I have already given my answer,” the master spoke, his voice dropping low. “You will not be going.”

            “A-Luo,” his sister started, and Shen Yuan startled from where he knelt behind Shen Jiu, watching. She had called his abuser by that name? No wonder he hated it so much when Ning Yingying had given it to Binghe! Qiu Haitang and Ning Yingying even shared some major characteristics! It must have been hell!

            “A-Tang,” the monster said sweetly, smiling down at his sister. “We all know how much you adore our little Xiao Jiu, so why don’t you let he and I discuss this as men, hm? We’ll call for you once we have a solid decision after, alright?”

            Shen yuan could see the way the slave’s shoulders tensed, and under the curtain of his growing bangs, his eyes grew wide.

            Shen Yuan had learned alongside Shen Jiu very quickly- being alone with Qiu Jianluo was never a sign of anything good, and daring to speak back against his order was tantamount to treason. Whatever was about to happen was going to be terrible, and Shen Yuan wasn’t sure he could stand to watch, but, as usual, he was unable to leave the sea of memories.

            Part of him felt like he couldn’t anyway. Not when the boy was still there being threatened, even if only in memory.

            Qiu Jianluo waited for several long moments after the door had closed behind his sister, a silencing talisman on the frame, before he rounded on his slave.

            “You ungrateful little cur!” he shouted as his boot found Shen Jiu square between the shoulders, shoving him down with an audible crunching sound. “You think you have the right to ask for anything? You dare try to ply my sister’s affection to try and coerce me to agree?! What did I tell you, huh?” He reached down, dragging the boy back up by his hair. “What are you?”

            Shen Jiu stared back at him, eyes full of anger and a thin, stubborn, bloody set to his lips.

            “What are you!?” Qiu Jianluo shrieked, throwing him against the desk.

            “…fuck you,” Shen Jiu whispered, anger and blood dripping from behind his hair as he slowly got to his knees.

            “…What. Did. You. Just. Say?” The vile man stalked over, a mad, frenzied snarl to his lips.

            “Fuck. You.” Shen Jiu gave the enunciation more clearly the second time, angling his face up to display his fury full force. “I hate you. I hate it here. I hate your sister and your shitty games and I’m going.”

            “You aren’t going anywhere,” Qiu Jianluo said, his voice going deathly quiet. “I have forbidden it.”

            “I don’t care.”

            The master laughed, an ugly, mirthless thing. “I see. So, Haitang has truly spoiled you! Well… it seems you need to be retrained.”

            Shen Yuan couldn’t tell if Shen Jiu tried to scramble first or if Qiu Jianluo dove towards the desk, but all of a sudden there was a flurry of commontion. Fists were flying, things were being knocked off the desk all over, and eventually the little slave in purple robes was pinned under the strength of his master, hissing and scratching and biting to no avail.

            “You rabbid little beast,” Qiu Jianluo growled. “I’ve carved the reminders of your ownership into your very flesh but you still act like this? Fine! This time, I’ll put my marking somewhere deeper than skin!”

            Shen Yuan could see Shen Jiu blanch in understanding at the same time as him, a feeling of disgust and rage clawing through him as he was forced to do nothing but watch as the master started ripping those purple robes apart, a snarl on his lips as he ignored the pleading calls for mercy.

            “Please! I’m sorry! I won’t! I won’t ever go, I won’t ever talk back again, I’m sorry! Please! Please!!”

            “It’s time you remember who you belong to,” Qiu Jianluo grit out, blood dripping from where Shen Jiu had managed to scratch a gouge over his eye. “There’s no one to save you now, so there’s no point in struggling! Be still, and I might even try to make it not hurt as much!”

            “Fight!” Shen Yuan begged, slapping the floor. “You’re strong! I know you’re strong! I know you can do it! Just fight! Please don’t give up! You’re going to get out of here, I promise! Just fight!”

            “Qi-ge isn’t coming,” Shen Jiu whimpered, tears welling in his eyes.

            “That’s right,” the monster purred. “No one is coming to help you. So just- ack-!”

            The young lord cut off suddenly, an expression of shock taking over his eyes even as one of rage filled his would-be victim.

            “Then I guess I’m on my own again,” Shen Jiu said tonelessly, something between them moving with a jerking twist and Qiu Jianluo gasped again, slowly pulling away- lifting his body off of the long, bloodied blade of a letter opener that had tumbled off the desk during their brawl.

            “You-!” Qiu Jianluo wheezed, pressing a hand to his side where an alarming amount of blood was beginning to ooze- instantly seeping out between his fingers. “G-guards! Guards!”

            “They can’t hear you,” Shen Jiu reminded him with a dark, savage smile. “You know, I hear souls in underworld have to suffer to pay back their sins to avenge those they’ve wronged,” he continued, tilting the bloody piece of metal back and forth in his hand, almost like he was in a trance as he kicked Qiu Jianluo over and straddled his hips. “So let me give you a head start.”

            Shen Yuan could not look away, even as that boy, only fifteen years old, stabbed his master.

            Again.

            And again.

            And again. Again. Again. Again-again-again-again-again-again-again.

            Over and over, until blood seeped up his sleeves and smeared across his face and knotted his hair, staining the expensive rugs and flecking across the floors, until the rapid, manic movements of murder finally slowed, and ceased.

            Shen Jiu sat like that, for a time, unmoving.

            And then, the tell-tale glow of the candles suddenly grew bright, and the boy turned, eyes unseeing, to watch the light of a fallen lamp begin to eat up one of the curtains on the back wall. It ate the curtains, the sills, the scattered pieces of parchment thrown about, and slowly it made towards the two on the floor.

            “Move!” Shen Yuan urged, waving a hand uselessly in front of the boy’s face. “Move or you’ll be burned alive!!”

            “Qi-ge isn’t coming back,” Shen Jiu of the past whispered, and Shen Yuan felt like he could see the moment something in those young eyes broke. “Liar…”

            And Shen Yuan had to watch, horrified and disgusted and crying out in his heart for that boy as he took up his master’s sword and laid waste to his estate before leaving one, lone survivor in the street and disappearing into the night.

            When he finally collapsed in the woods, Shen Yuan couldn’t help but try to gather him up in his arms to shield him from the wind until he, too, fell into the darkness.

***

            Shen Qingqiu felt a disgusted sort of pity as he watched. Shen Yuan had been angry, yelling at the crystal screen about his book.

            The one thing he had looked forward to in the short remainder of his life, that escape which had promised a happy ending, left to tragedy.

            How disappointing.

            How much of an even worse time for another fit to strike, right as the angry, sickly man went to eat.

            How undignified, to survive a curse for so long, only to be felled by a simple unfortunate circumstance.

            Shen Qingqiu watched, one of the crystal screens alighting with a still image of Shen Yuan’s little sister’s face over two circles that read ‘Answer’ and ‘Decline’, just out of reach, even as his body slowly grew still on the floor under all the mess he had pulled off the desk in his decent.

            What a quiet, pitiful, meaningless way for a loud, pitiful, meaningless man to die…

            For a reason he couldn’t explain to even himself, Shen Qingqiu knelt beside him, one elegant, spectral hand on his back as he seized through the last moments of his existence.

            “Life,” the peak lord whispered, “is something we all eventually learn is unfair, Shen Yuan.”

***

            It was warm, and there was a comfortable weight against his side, Shen Yuan holding tight as his mind slowly came back up from whatever deep lake of slumber had seized it. Something rested across his middle and a slow, inconsistent breeze brushed across his neck like breathing.

            He slowly opened his eyes, the simple, elegant canopy of his bed overhead and its familiar, cozy blankets laid out over him.

            He felt like he’d finally gotten a good night’s rest for the first time in ages. He blearily thought that maybe today would be a good day for him! But there was something on his arm?

            He looked over, blinking slowly as his own face stared back, seemingly having also just woken up if the slow recognition was anything to go by.

            The other him caught on to their memories much more quickly, eyes widening as Shen Qingqiu abruptly shoved Shen Yuan out of the bed.

            “Dude, what the hell?!” the transmigrator demanded.

            “Why were you in the bed?” the original hissed.

            “Why were you in the bed? How did I get here? I was… I was…” He could feel his face fall. “I was in the woods with you. After… the fire.”

            Shen Qingqiu blanched. “Get out.”

            “But-!”

            “Get out!” the peak lord yelled, throwing a fan at his head. “You do not know me, you are not me, you will never be me, and I don’t want you here, now get out!!”

            “Okay, shit, I’m going! Damn dude, I’ve been trying to get away from you this whole time! I’m sorry! I know you don’t like people! I wouldn’t either after all that shit, jeez!”

            “Out,” the peak lord hissed, crawling off the bed with movements that were unfairly smooth and elegant so soon after waking.

            “Fine!” Shen Yuan said, scrambling up onto his feet and heading to the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t mean to see it. I’m sorry.”

            He slipped out into the hall, trying to ignore the feeling of being hunted as Shen Qingqiu prowled out after him.

            “Sorry,” he mumbled again, halfway tripping out the front door and closing it behind him.

            He turned, unsure of where to go, only for the world to tilt and his vertigo to resolve with his back landing on plush white and green bedding with a canopy hanging overhead.

            “WHAT?” Shen Qingqiu roared from the doorway to the bedroom.

[Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations!! Important things must be said three times! Host and Host User have successfully unlocked dual phantom companion mode! Quest {{This is Our Get-Along House}} auto initiated! Please enjoy the camaraderie!]

            The two Shens stared at the text box with respective looks of horror and distain. Shen Qingqiu fixed the transmigrator with a murderous stare, and Shen Yuan could only give a weak chuckle.

            “So, uh… do you like playing go?”

            “Die.”

            “I’ll pass, thanks.”

Chapter Text

           “So… are we still in quiet time, or….?”

           Shen Qingqiu simply glared at him over his teacup.

[Reminder! Quest {{This is Our Get-Along House}} requires a minimum of three daily interactions! Please work hard!]

           “You are still banned from speaking, yes,” the peak lord sniffed, annoyance lancing through him. “There. Interaction three, now leave me alone.”

           “Mmhmm,” Shen Yuan nodded before returning to staring down into his lap, fiddling with the edges of his sleeves.

           It had been… tense, one could say, in the bamboo house. For three days, no matter where Shen Qingqiu tried to push him off to, when time slipped by and they were condemned to rest, the next day began with two Shens tucked into the master bedroom, wrapped up under the covers together. The same was the result of the numerous attempts Shen Qingqiu made to throw Shen Yuan out of the house, or Shen Yuan’s own attempts to flee.

           Out the front door? Back in bed. Out the back door? As soon as one passed the garden, boom! Back in bed. One notable occasion even featured Shen Yuan flipping him ‘the double bird’ as he had called it, whilst attempting to backflip out the window.

           He retaliated with a few smacks of his fan when the other popped out of the bedsheets.

           Shen Jiu was perfectly content making interactions one and two of each day pushing the interloper out of bed and ordering him out so the peak lord could get dressed. Shen Yuan didn’t seem to care about propriety anyway, walking around with his hair loose, in sleeping robes and nothing more.

           It was infuriating.

           “Will you quit fiddling?” Shen Qingqiu finally exclaimed, setting his tea down harshly to level a new glare. “Are you incapable of sitting still?”

           “Well damn, dude, I didn’t realize we were playing quiet and stock still! Let me just turn into a rock, yeah?” He rolled his eyes slumping back onto his hands. “Jeez.”

           “Sit properly,” Shen Qingqiu hissed. “I will not allow you to use my appearance in such a slovenly manner.”

           “Quiet, still, and postured! My my, aren’t you a demanding roommate?” Shen Yuan’s tone was biting, but did indeed sit up and rearrange himself to an almost passable manner. “There, happy?”

           “I’m never happy,” Shen Qingqiu sniped.

           “Yeah, probably from all the cramps and muscle tension,” Shen Yuan muttered, not quite quiet enough to avoid being heard.

           He wilted under yet another sharp glance.

           “If you’re going to linger here, at least put some proper effort into your upkeep,” the peak lord ordered, turning the page of the manuscript he was reading with his tea.

           “What?” Shen Yuan asked, looking at him like he’d grown a second head.

           “I said,” Shen Qingqiu ground out. “Get. Dressed. Then occupy yourself quietly.”

           “But…” Shen Yuan started fiddling with his sleeves again. It was a good thing Shen Qingqiu lacked the supposed authority to dismiss him or else- “with what?”

           Shen Qingqiu’s internal ranting ground to a halt. “What?”

           “The clothes,” Shen Yuan continued, giving a little gesture in the direction of the bedroom. “And the hair things.  And the fans, and the tea sets, and the books… everything here is yours.”

           Shen Qingqiu blinked. “You have certainly had no qualms about using them in the past.”

           “That was different!” Shen Yuan said, starting to squirm in earnest. “I thought you were dead, and I was pretending to be you! Of course I would have to use your things, and you weren’t around to have a problem with it! But… now you’re you, and I’m me, and I figured you wouldn’t want me messing with your stuff anymore. So… this is kind of all I’ve got to work with.”

           “…” Shen Qingqiu stared at the other man, trying to dissect at what point his brain was beginning to devolve.      Was he feeling…touched?

           True, Shen Qingqiu was a very possessive person. The things he had managed to gather for himself would have to be torn from his cold, dead hands, but…

           “You have worn my face, my relationships, and my title,” he found himself saying. “I fail to see how you wearing my clothes is any more offensive at this point. Although, from what I have seen, you disparage the concept of clothing in general.”

           “Well what’s that supposed to mean?!” Shen Yuan looked offended. “I thought I did pretty well keeping you fashionable!”

           “I meant you, idiot,” Shen Qingqiu sniffed. “Honestly. Dozens, if not hundreds of momentary observations, and the far majority of them had you in scraps of cloth barely covering your intimacies.”

           “…” Shen Yuan squinted at him. “Are you talking about going through my head and seeing my fucking shorts??”

           “If that’s what they’re called, it’s an appropriate name. You dressed like a harlot.”

           “Hey!”

           “What is the point of ‘shorts’ if you only proceed to cover with ridiculous stockings?”

           “Rude! Those were my compression socks!”

           “Perhaps they compressed what was left of your dignity.”

           “They were for my blood circulation! If I have to wear them, I’m going to make it look good!”

           “Is that what you would call that attire?”

           “Dude! I could get dressed up! I was in so many paparazzi magazines whenever I got drug out to events! But not all of us like to dress like we’re about to meet the fucking Heavenly Emperor for a personal tea and bitch session at the house. It’s called a lounge outfit, bitch, and I already know you don’t own any, Mister three-layers-minimum.”

           “Three layers is for lounging.”

           Shen Yuan sighed, massaging his temple. “See? It just… ugh. What I wouldn’t give for a pair of leggings and a tank top some days...”

[Host User can purchase the <Sharing Space is a Caring Space> upgrade for the ambient environment server to include some background information in the process output for 150 B-points! Would Host User like to make this adjustment?]

[YES/NO]

           “What does that even mean?” Shen Yuan shook his head, clicking on the acceptance button. “What’s to lose? Not like I’ll get the chance to spend them on anything else.”

[Data will be updated on next upload cycle! Thank you for your system purchase!]

           “Do you think-?”

           “I remember saying you were banned from speaking,” Shen Qingqiu cut off, turning back to his book. “Find something simple to wear that doesn’t make you look like a whore. Then meditate silently or go be annoying somewhere else.”

           Shen Yuan sighed, but dutifully nodded and wandered off to find an old, plain outer robe.

           “How absolutely ridiculous…”

***

           As per usual, Shen Yuan woke up by being unceremoniously shoved out of the bed, his limbs still warm and heavy from where the two of them had been wrapped around each other.

           “I am not getting up yet,” Shen Qingqiu informed him, curling back up against the pillows. “Get out. Don’t bother me.”

           “Good morning to you too, bastard,” Shen Yuan groaned, rubbing his hip and quickly pulling open the wardrobe to grab whatever set of not-super-fancy robes was first.

           Only to look down and see he wasn’t holding robes at all.

           He looked back over his shoulder to where Shen Qingqiu had his back to him, smiling as he took the clothes and something off the vanity for his hair, slipping out of the room quietly. He could get changed in the side room.

           The peak lord didn’t want to be disturbed, after all.

***

           Shen Qingqiu was not sulking. He just… wasn’t used to having that all around him anymore- the buzzing, thumping irregularities of life.

           He had been alone in that place for so long, having Shen Yuan lingering on the edge of every moment left him exhausted from hyper-vigilance and the constant struggle of his own will, his sensibilities attempting to regulate wether he was fond of the idiot, or insurmountably angry over the abrupt invasion of his past. 

           On one hand- the past belonged to him, and only him. Even Yue Qingyuan, for all that they had shared, did not know the true depth of the horrors he persisted through in the clutches of the Qiu household. To know one was seen to be a gangly street child was one thing. To know that one was seen being stripped of their very personhood was another.

           On the other hand, Shen Yuan had yet to make any reference to it aside from his comment about the fire, or his weak defense of poor fashion. And, in the other’s fair defense- Shen Qingqiu had also seen his own hardships. From the weak, lifeless way he languished in the sick houses, to the disparaging loneliness he endured in his gilded cage, to the neglect from his household, to the very indignity of his anticlimactic death. Shen Qingqiu had seen it all.

           And had he not felt some stirring of pity? Had he not been the one to kneel by the corpse and speak what little kindness he could muster? Before their true meeting, had he not felt exhilaration in the twinging of their souls in unison?

           He had.

           Shen Yuan had once said that he had not intended to occupy Shen Qingqiu’s life. He had also not intended to see into Shen Qingqiu’s haunted mind.

           A small part of him still couldn’t help but wonder, staring up at the canopy above his bed, if Shen Yuan had tried to speak to his memory as well.

           But who would speak to a beast?

           …he had been in bed for far too long. Not that it mattered, anymore. Shen Yuan was the only other being in this world, and he was clearly as lazy as the day was long. He had no meetings, no classes, no work to accomplish.

           …maybe… well… they were required to contrive a third interaction for the day still. Maybe…maybe Shen Jiu might like to fill the silence a bit.

           He wasn’t lonely, and he wasn’t sulking! He was just…bored.

           The boredom quickly went out the window when he saw a little scrap of yellow paper slipped under the door.

           “A deafening talisman?”

           Shen Jiu crunched the thing in his fist. Just what was the little whelp trying to hide from him? In his own house?! The world was so silent already, he hadn’t noticed anything strange, but the burning anger he felt rising from the situation suddenly banked as a sound reverberated through the door.

           “Was that…music?”

           It wasn’t a guqin, and Shen Jiu would break Shen Yuan’s hands if he ever dared touch his again, but it was something… well… Shen Jiu had never quite heard something like it before.

           Moving stealthily, Shen Qingqiu slipped from his room, barely pausing to pull on an outer robe over his sleeping garb.

           There were things in his house.

           Things that were decidedly not there before.

           Small boxes and crystal screens and knickknacks on new shelves dotted the walls in small, mostly unobtrusive spaces. But there, in the far corner of the sitting room, there was… that.

           And Shen Yuan, once more dressed in a level of garb bordering on obscenity with its sheer lace sleeves to the wrist and shortened trousers sitting above his ankles, his hair pulled up in some sort of caging pin with tufts poking out of the top, was playing that, and Shen Qingqiu found his voice unable to rise.

           The sound… was not unpleasant, if tinged with a sort of quiet reflection or even melancholy. And he was angled in such a way that he could make out the profile of his expression, and Shen Yuan seemed… content. Perhaps for the first time since their meeting at the gates of Not-Qing-Jing that ever-present flittering that suffused him seemed to have settled, and he moved his fingers across the black and white playing board, his eyes closed as he tilted his face towards the sun.

           Shen Jiu was not sure how long he stood by the entrance to the room, simply watching, finding himself loathe to interrupt, even as Shen Yuan shifted his hands, the song moving up a pitch, and his shoulders began to sway with the movements of playing, until the last chord settled softly on the air.

           “What is that monstrosity?” he finally asked once the song was finished.

           Shen Yuan jumped, a horrible, jarring cacophony of sound jangling from the instrument as his hands pressed the playing board when he suddenly bolted up from the stool he was sitting on to turn around like a misbehaving disciple caught in the act.

           “Peak Lord Shen!” the interloper said, far too loudly to be appropriate, the use of such formal titles leaving something in Shen Qingqiu’s chest turning cold as the young man fiddled with his hands. “I, um, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in. I didn’t mean to bother you, I thought a talisman would be enough to dampen the sound.”

           “The talisman was sufficient,” Shen Qingqiu said simply, finally stepping into the room. “But that is not what I asked. What is that thing?”

           “Oh, um…” Shen Yuan looked down at the instrument, one of his fingers tracing along the edge. “This? Its called a piano. Its pretty popular in my world. My mom was insistent we all learn at least one respectable instrument, heh. I was always better at it than guqin or guitar. Which is probably why the System did it instead. I’m sorry about all the stuff, by the way. I didn’t realize it was going to get all mixed in with your space, but I probably should have since we can’t leave. But I guess I was thinking it might do like a mirror vibe thing, you know? I can move it. Maybe? Er, I’ll try to, at least. But um… sorry. I’m rambling. I’ll, uh, I’ll go in the other room so you can,” he made a gesture towards Shen Qingqiu and the rest of the room, “you know. Without me annoying you.”

           “That won’t be necessary,” Shen Qingqiu said, settling down at the reading table with a book he’d grabbed at random from the shelf. “Continue playing, if you like. It’s sound is still better than your fidgeting with things where I can’t see you.”

           “Oh… um, ok.”

           “What was the song you just played?”

           “Its called ‘Kiss the Rain’,” Shen Yuan said, taking his place on the stool once again. “It was one of my Meimei’s favorites.”

           “Mm.” Shen Qingqiu was only half listening, noting that the book in his hands was not one of his bestiaries like he had assumed, but a novel he had never seen before.

           As Shen Yuan settled back into playing his piano with slightly less trembling than a startled noble lady’s dog, Shen Jiu had the passing thought that maybe having their things thrown together so chaotically would at least be a small reprieve from the monotony he’d grown so used to.

           He started reading the book.

***

            “Eat it,” Shen Yuan demanded, pushing the bowl back across the table towards the peak lord. “Its good! This is like, the fancy shit where I’m from!”

            “It looks revolting,” the peak lord answered, turning his head away in disgust.

            Shen Yuan clutched his pearls. “You take that back!” He sighed, leaning down to whisper into the bowl of agnolotti del piin, dressed with a cream sauce and truffle, which the System had assured him was Michelin Star quality, delivered as an interaction opportunity. “Don’t listen to him, he just doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

            “You are talking to a bowl.”

            “Well, you aren’t showing it any respect!” Shen Yuan huffed. “One of us has to be thankful to the food.”

            “There is no way your world had an actual habit of thanking your meals.” Shen Qingqiu looked at him like he was a bug pinned to a board for science. It was kinda fun, even, to see how much he could bullshit before the peak lord called him out, and even funnier when he was saying something completely true.

            “We did so! Some people even had special prayers they would say before eating to give thanks, either to the food itself or to whatever deity they worshiped!” Shen Yuan shared with a smile, sitting up a little bit straighter. “Some families were even so strict that you weren’t even allowed to see the food until the prayer had been said.”

            “Why?” Shen Qingqiu asked emphatically, his gaze sharpening with bewilderment.

            “There is not nearly enough time to get into it,” Shen Yuan dismissed with a wave of his hand. He’d looked once, there was too much background to explain to a total outsider. “Point being, some people were really into the whole food-prayer thing. My family didn’t really care as long as we at least thanked our cooks for making it. And this,” he said, pulling his own bowl closer, “is something that the cooks would have been thanked for profusely. But if you aren’t gonna eat it, I will happily take your portion and you can keep eating dust mites.”

            “I do not-!”

            “A joke, Lord Shen. That was a joke. Ha. Ha. I’m not a total idiot.”

            “Says the man talking to bowls.”

            “…”

            “…”

            “…its good, isn’t it?”

            “Shut up,” Shen Qingqiu said, taking another bite.

***

            Not every day was the awkward, off-center peace they’d sometimes manage to clobber together. Shen Qingqiu had long since stopped counting the days they would wake up tangled together in the sheets of his bed, his otherwise chilled body kept warm where it pressed against a slowly thawing stranger wearing his own face. Shen Yuan didn’t need to be shoved out of bed or ordered to get dressed anymore.

            He had even managed to summon up some clothing that he considered comfortable without making Shen Qingqiu feel like he was living in a brothel. It was a small miracle, that day.

            He’d taken to not saying anything when he slipped out, shifting their one-two cadence to morning tea and doing something quiet next to each other in the sitting room. Interactions always met the spirit’s minimums, and other than answering Shen Yuan’s questions when he called, or offering small things to move their interactions along, it was seemingly content to leave the two of them alone to their own devices.

            But Shen Jiu could tell as soon as he opened his eyes that today was not going to be a quiet day.

            “Quit staring at me,” he ordered, the demand softened by his voice’s crackling from disuse. “You look like I’m a ghost, and its too early for you to be this annoying.”

            “You’ve been asleep for a week,” Shen Yuan said, his voice stilted, almost like he’d been crying.

            “…what?” he thought.

            “What?” he asked dumbly.

            “I woke up, like usual, but you didn’t, and I couldn’t make you,” Shen Yuan said, his hands twitching like they might try to reach for him before he thought better of it. “You just… laid there. For a week. Are you ok?”

            “Don’t be a fool,” he said, sitting up with a hiss. He did feel… rather sore. But nothing that would make him concerned, or unable to make it through the day. He had woken in such a state numerous times since their initial switch had been made. This was nothing. “I don’t have the patience to deal with your childish antics, now.”

            “Shen Jiu,” Shen Yuan started. (And that was something he had mixed feelings about, too. Shen Yuan had no other title, so he was just ‘Shen Yuan’ but Shen Jiu didn’t like it when he was called Xiao Jiu by anyone, it was tainted, and Shen Jiu was likewise…intimate, but when Shen Yuan referred to him by title, or the unbearably formal ‘Peak Lord Shen’ it made him feel like something in him was withering to dust.) “I mean it. I was worried about you.”

            Shen Jiu paused in his journey to untangle from the sheets, looking over again. Shen Yuan did seem a bit out of sorts, a sort of weariness around his eyes that he couldn’t recall being there the night before, when they’d picked at another one of his pastas and snipped over Shen Jiu’s thoughts on one of the interloper’s strange books.

            It left him discomfited.

            “…I went to sleep, and I woke up,” Shen Jiu finally said, untangling himself enough to escape the bed. “There is no reason to worry over such things.”

            “But-!”

            “There is no reason to worry over such things,” Shen Jiu repeated, his voice dropping colder. “We are already to this point. What worse could possibly happen? It is not as though I have the means to leave.”

            “…you might,” Shen Yuan said, so softly even Shen Qingqiu’s cultivator hearing nearly missed it, and he whirled back around.

            “What did you just say?”

            “I…” Shen Yuan looked away, something akin to guilt in his eyes.

            Shen Jiu was so sick of people looking guilty when he asked for explanations.

            “Answer me,” he demanded, storming back over to the bed to grab the other by the lapel of his sleep shirt. “What. Did. You. Just. Say?”

            “I didn’t want to bring it up, because I wasn’t sure, I’m still not sure if it will work out,” Shen Yuan said, his head hanging in supplication. “But… well… I assumed that Luo Binghe would want Shen Qingqiu dead.”

            “Naturally,” the peak lord hissed, his mood souring even further at the mention of the beast. “So?”

            “So… I used your blood and qi to make a second body?” Shen Qingqiu could feel himself jolt with the knowledge, even as Shen Yuan continued. “And since I thought you were gone, we all just kind of assumed that I would go there once the initial body died. But now you’re not gone, and the System says you have the hosting priority so if the body does grow to fruition and the plan works, it’ll probably bind to you instead of me… and then… you’ll go. And I’ll… be here, I guess. And I thought that… maybe that was what was happening.”

            Shen Qingqiu released him, taking a half step back as he stared down at the other who refused to meet his gaze. “…how did you arrive here?”

            They had avoided talking about that first day, by some silent mutual agreement. There was too much chaos between their synchronicity in the mortal world, so closely followed by the pains of their pasts, and then the endless days of fighting and scorn that followed before they found the cadence of their prison. But Shen Qingqiu had wondered…

            “I’m sorry,” Shen Yuan said. “He… That is, I…um…Things weren’t doing well. After you, uh, left? The sword Luo Binghe has now, its very unstable, and lends itself to it’s wielder’s heart demons. He was on the verge, and I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. So… I… Imayormaynothavedetonatedyourcoretostophim.”

            “Repeat,” Shen Qingqiu ordered. “Properly.”

            “I… may or may not… have detonated your core to stop Luo Binghe from leveling the entire countryside… Yue-gege was right there and the disciples and I-”

            Shen Qingqiu closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose. “… get out.”

            “Shen Jiu I’m-“

            “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry!” He yelled, grabbing the other wherever he could find purchase and flinging him towards the door. “First you go and get poisoned for that beast, then you failed to get rid of it, you get Yue Qingyuan involved in all this, then get poisoned again, TWICE, and now you tell me that you took everything I ever worked for, what I killed for, and you threw it away for a demon?”

            “Binghe is a good-!”

            “Luo Binghe is destined to murder my entire sect!”

            “You… you know about that?”

            “Of course I know!” Shen Qingqiu yelled. “Why else would I have ever agreed to this?!”

            “Whoa, whoa, wait,” Shen Yuan said, their voices overlapping. “The fuck do you mean you agreed to this?”

            “You are only here because I allowed it. Your one purpose was to stop Luo Binghe from killing Yue Qingyuan. And now you- you-!!”

            “What?!”

            “You’re nothing. Nothing. If I had known you’d be so… belligerently ineffectual I would have stayed and just figured out how to murder the whelp myself, societal consequences be damned!”

            “WHAT?!!”

            “Of course it wasn’t enough!!” Shen Qingqiu yelled, a snarl on his lips. “Why should I be surprised? A weak-willed, limp-limbed, lazy little parasite has no place conducting the business of fate. I doubt you could even-“

            “Binghe only ever attacked Caing Qiong because you were an abusive fucking monster that-!”

            “And I was right!”

            “And what about everybody else?! Is everyone out to get you, or are you just a dick who refuses to accept he’s living in a world where he doesn’t always get to be right?”

            “Shut up.”

            “No, you wanna defend yourself? Fine! Defend! Tell me, Oh Great Shen Qingqiu, what the fuck gives you the right to treat everyone like shit whenever you feel like it?”

            Shen Qingqiu’s fist went through the door of the wardrobe, bits of shattered door clattering on the ground. “I don’t need to defend myself to you.” His voice was cold as he fixed Shen Yuan with a freezing stare. “You’ve never had to work for anything a day in your life, or mine. Now get the fuck out.”

            Shen Yuan got out.

            Shen Qingqiu began his quest to see how many things he could break in his room before the spirits decided to put it all back.

***

            He was getting very good at this whole waking up early thing.

            Shen Yuan could be up and out of the room before Shen Qingqiu had even registered it was morning, slinking down the hall to the used-to-be storage room without ever having to feel the peak lord’s eyes glaring holes into his back.

            Whatever few, tentative branches of peace he had managed to craft were burning in a metaphorical pile at his feet.

[Reminder- Quest {{This is Our Get-Along House}} requires a minimum of three (3) daily interactions! Current interactions: -6. Interactions quota must begin regulating, or Host and Host User will incur a punishment protocol.]

            “Fuck off,” Shen Yuan said quietly, pulling down one of the little various baubles the System had generated for him from a shelf in the hallway as he passed by. He couldn’t leave the house, lest he arrive back in the room he was avoiding like the plague, but the least he could do was be as unobtrusive as possible.

            His things were slowly collecting in the side room. It, too, had changed after the ambient environment update, going from a poorly coordinated storage room to Binghe’s bedroom, complete with a replication of Zheng Yang hanging on the wall over the desk. He was placing his own things on a spare set of bookshelves in the corner.

            Binghe never had been much of one for reading at the house. He much preferred spending time in the kitchen, after all.

            It made something deep inside him ache, but where he was sure Shen Qingqiu would flay him alive if he even dared to step foot in the main room, at least he could sit against the frame of the bed and reminisce about his days with the little protagonist.

            Luo Binghe had flinched the first time he’d reached out to him.

            Shen Yuan flinched whenever he heard the bedroom door open in the mornings.

            But… Shen Qingqiu wasn’t all bad, right? He was mean, yeah, but… not without cause? Granted there was absolutely no excuse for his treatment of little Binghe, and Shen Yuan hadn’t forgiven him for it, either. But… maybe he had been a little cruel during their screaming match too.

            It was a lot harder to think about how much he originally hated the man when he had seen exactly what had happened to make him that way.

            And when he had seen… he liked to read. And he had opinions on Shen Yuan’s go strategies. And he’d ask him to play the piano sometimes, and he didn’t even say anything mean after! And he would sometimes breathe hard through his nose while reading and it was the closest Shen Yuan had ever seen him get to laughing and… and…

            And it really fucking sucked that they couldn’t have met a different way. Because Shen Jiu was a bit of a narcissistic asshole, sure, but Shen Yuan could be too. And god damn did they need some form of transmigrator therapy. But maybe…

            …maybe if just one or two of the details had changed, then they might have been able to be good friends.

            Shen Yuan sat in Binghe’s room, his back pressed against the siding of the bed, and wondered if he had done enough for Luo Binghe, or if the protagonist would push everything to a distance.

           Just like a certain peak lord who never came looking for his doppelganger.

           His parasite.

***

            The silence was unbearable.

            Shen Qingqiu was still angry. But after an eon filled with Shen Yuan’s… Yuan-ness, sitting alone in the receiving room painting and reading bestiaries was like torture. Every day, he woke up cold, the warmth of the other barely lingering on the sheets, and the small new shelves were slowly emptying of their articles.

            Even the vanity no longer held his hair accessories.

            It was like Shen Yuan had become a ghost, haunting Shen Qingqiu’s house in the most annoying, insufferable… insufferable… the most…

            He knew he was in the side room. It was the only room where Shen Qingqiu didn’t enter throughout the monotonous routine he had established, and therefore the only one in which the interloper could be hiding in all day. He would sit, awake, in the main room, waiting for the other to emerge.

            But he never did.

            Something was burrowed into Shen Qingqiu’s chest, squirming and twisting around in such a manner that he felt like he might be dying a second time, with the way the hollow void was settling under his ribs. He would wait, until darkness flooded the corners and he reluctantly carried himself off to undress for bed.

           It didn’t matter. He would be alone again in the morning. He would be haunted by the expression the other had worn as he fled from the bedroom.

            Shen Yuan was avoiding him.

            That should be good! He should rejoice at the return of peace! To the sanctity of his home, now that it was no longer filled with random things and books and clips and bare ankles. Just his own belongings and the… the dark… empty shelves…

            Shen Yuan was avoiding him.

            Shen Qingqiu was fine with that! He didn’t need Shen Yuan to be near him. He didn’t even want Shen Yuan to be near him. He didn’t care that the shelves were empty! Or that the piano was silent! Or that weird bowls of foreign food weren’t being shoved into his space while he was bombarded with questions about the book he was reading or a bestiary on the shelf. He didn’t care… He didn’t!

           He didn’t need to think about Shen Yuan’s pale face or wide, bloodshot tired eyes, or his stupid little pout or… or the feeling of whatever-it-was digging into him. Shen Qingqiu was doing him a favor, really. He was a filthy, awful thing, and the sooner Shen Yuan realized that, the better they would both be off. Shen Yuan was cowering! And he should! He was trapped in a house with a man who could shred him alive, and now he should remember it!

           Shen Yuan should be scared of him. He deserved to be feared, if he could not be respected.

            And Shen Qingqiu had scared him, but for some reason, that didn’t bring the dark satisfaction it usually would.

            He paused in the hallway. They had not spoken, or even seen each other, in days. Their warden spirit warned that interactions had to be met, or there would be consequences.

            He had scared him.

           Shen Qingqiu changed course, heading to the kitchen.

            Shen Yuan liked food, he was aware of that much. He pettily picked out all the snacks he could find that Shen Yuan had proclaimed to be “mid” and threw them on a tray with the Annoying Visitor Tea he kept in the back of the cupboard, and set it down outside the storage room door with a single, heavy knock.

            He was still angry. And Shen Yuan, it seemed, had some strange, uncut fangs of his own. But he stood behind the door of his room and listened, and that cavernous feeling in his chest didn’t feel quite so hollow when he heard the other door open.

[Interactions for the day: 1]

***

            He woke the next morning to a cold bed, but a book he had looked at in passing and a passable brew of tea rested on his reading table.

            It was even the kind he preferred.

***

            Shen Yuan heard the guqin through the wall.

            It wasn’t quite perfect, but it sounded like someone trying to play ‘Kiss the Rain’.

***

[Quest {{This is Our Get-Along House}} 25% Complete!]

Chapter Text

            Shen Yuan gave himself one more day to psych himself up. One day to really think out what he would say, and how he would navigate any potential counter arguments.

            …And to panic and remind himself that he was an idiot. But he was an idiot with a plan.

            So, after his planning and panicking, and a night of dark, dreamless sleep, Shen Yuan woke, untangled himself from the original goods, and went to the wardrobe, rustling about for a bit before taking his selections to the side room to get himself put together.

            Shen Qingqiu clearly placed a high measurement on appearance, and Shen Yuan’s mother had made it very clear that if one intended to make a statement in regards to prolific people, it was important to look the part. So, he took his time readying his attire, paying careful attention to his hair and choices for jewelry from his copied possessions.

            Once he deemed himself as good as he was going to get, he took one last look before getting the tray of Shen Qingqiu-preferred tea and snacks he had prepared, kept fresh and warm with the gift of talismans, and steeled himself.

            With his head held high, he glided into the sitting room, and cleared his throat, a pleased feeling humming through him as Shen Qingqiu looked up from his book with wide eyes that abruptly narrowed as he raised his fan.

            The suit was one of Shen Yuan’s favorites- the one he had specially made for his one great venture into posh celebrity culture at a red-carpet event before his health tanked for good. The party had been the talk of the upper crust and cheesy tabloids for months after, and Shen Yuan knew for a fact that the image he cut had been called things like “breathtaking” and “cold-cut confidence”.

            He needed that, to go up against the literal immortal that was watching him settle the tea tray on the table.

            The base was plain- a crisp white shirt with black pants and a tie- but the vest was a luxurious blue and gold brocade, with a dark suit jacket that cut lines closer to “cape” with its split seam sleeves and gold chain across the collars. He had parted his hair to one side, letting his bangs artfully curl along the contour of his jaw while pulling the rest back into an intricate braided bun, complete with a pair of sapphire hair sticks that twinkled and chimed when he moved. Matching earrings, a coat pin, and a selection of rings later, and it was like someone had pasted Shen Qingqiu’s face on a body shot from the latest fashion runway.

            And damn did having the cold, beautiful face of the peak lord help him feel indestructible, even if that very face was also watching him warily from the other side of the table.

            “I made you tea,” he said simply, pouring out a cup for the lord in question. “I hope you’ll be so kind as to let me speak with you while you enjoy it.”

            Shen Qingqiu’s eyes narrowed further. “I am not the one who has been hiding for days.”

            “My absence was at your request,” Shen Yuan reminded him. “And you have every right to be angry, so I didn’t want to force the issue. But there is something I feel we need to discuss.”

            “Is it the fact you finally managed to remember how to clothe yourself with any sense of pride?”

            “Ha.” Shen Yuan smiled, but he could tell it was dry and a bit waspish. “Thank you for noticing, I did say I had the ability to dress nicely, which I felt was appropriate for this, but no. I mean to discuss the situation with the new body.”

            “...What of it?” Ah, so he was still royally pissed then. Fair enough.

            “If it succeeds, it will likely bind to you. And frankly, Peak Lord Shen, if you go back like this, I foresee there will be problems with the reception.”

            “Oh?” The lord’s voice was colder than the northern desert.

            Shen Yuan took a deep breath. “Look, you gave me your identity so that I could find a path wherein Luo Binghe did not destroy the things you care about. And- dude. Don’t give me that look, nobody does something like this if they don’t care.” He leveled a flat stare until the other retreated behind his fan once more. “Anyway, at the end of the day, you’re right, that’s why I am here- to help make things better. And I would say that I have given great effort to that task with great success!”

            “You call that success?”

            “Yes! Luo Binghe was removed from an abusive position, allowed to foster camaraderie with his peers, given a proper education, and a safe dedicated space to live. And as a result, he thrived. He was positively viewed by the other disciples, given praise, and repeatedly reminded that he was valued. Granted that we hit a hiccup at the Alliance Conference, but with all that happened at Jin Lan city and the following… excursions, well… any resentment Luo Binghe had towards Shen Qingqiu should be resolved. And without that hatred, he will have no reason to target Qing Jing or the sect as a whole.”

            Shen Yuan watched as Shen Qingqiu swirled the lid of his teacup around the rim, his expression carefully neutral.

            “Pretty sure he’s considering,” he thought, relying on what little he’d managed to decipher thus far in regards to reading the other’s carefully controlled expressions.

            “Suppose you are correct,” Shen Qingqiu finally said, taking a dainty sip. “If Shen Qingqiu were to suddenly make a reappearance, would that not undermine his sacrifice in the first place, rendering it obsolete?”

            “Naturally we’ll have to come up with a plausible explanation,” Shen Yuan agreed. “There’s the possibility that the final growth stages will have completely altered the structure of the body and you could come back as someone entirely different for all I know. I, personally, was planning to be a rogue cultivator under a new name. But what will really throw a wrench into things is if you keep the peak and then go back to bad habits. Then it undermines everything. Luo Binghe will believe everything was a lie, and all my work will have been for nothing.”

            “And what does Young Master Shen Yuan suggest be done, hm?”

            Shen Yuan cringed at the address, shooting the man a foul look before switching to his most charming smile and tugging his cufflinks back into order and smoothing his nonexistent wrinkles. “You will, naturally, be advised about going through rehab!”

            “I beg your pardon?” Shen Qingqiu tapped his fan on the edge of the table irritability.

            “Rehab!” Shen Yuan repeated, all smiles, his hands spread wide. “Rehabilitation! During the time we have here, let me try to help you adjust to a more… approachable position. Something that will help you keep the benefits I’ve used your name to earn without requiring you to outright betray your own self. You can’t deny that your… ‘unfortunate experiences’ might have made your perceptions a bit… skewed in regards to what you might consider to be normal.”

            “I am perfectly normal,” the peak lord hissed.

            “You threw a preteen into a woodshed and beat the shit out of him for seemingly no reason.” Shen Yuan deadpanned. “That’s not normal.”

            “Every life has adversity! If they are so weak-!”

            “Yeah, everybody goes through something, but not literal torture! Dude… that is exactly what I am talking about. Your whole frame of reference is rooted in what happened to you which is decidedly not normal for anyone, let alone kids. I mean this in the most respectful way, but you are hella fucked up.”

            “If I can-!”

            “This is not about what you were able to handle,” Shen Yuan interrupted, holding a hand out for the other to stop. “No one is saying what you have managed to do isn’t incredible, because it really fucking is, but this is about addressing the root of the problem! And besides, can you honestly tell me that you don’t wish you had been given a life where you never had to go through all that?”

            “It made me stronger,” Shen Qingqiu growled.

            “I have literally used your spirit veins, and I know for a fact that there is more damage there than what could be done simply by starting late, so I doubt that. And more importantly- you were a child, Shen Jiu. You shouldn’t have had to be strong.”

            “Because weakness would have spared me from Qiu Jianluo? Wu Yanzi?”

            “Its precisely because you suffered in that place that you should know better! You killed Qiu Jianluo and anyone associated with him for what he did to you, why would you be surprised that Luo Binghe would take the same reaction when he’s turned into the victim? When he takes your place in the equation?”

            For a moment, Shen Yuan tensed as Shen Qingqiu abruptly rose, thinking his boldness may have finally resulted in him getting one of the lore-infamous beatings from hell himself, but the peak lord only got to his feet and exited the room. His fan struck out to knock the serving tray and its contents to the floor like lightning, shards of ceramic skittering across the ground.

            “I am finished with the tea, Shen Yuan,” he said icily on the way out. “Do not bother me with your idiocy again today.”

            “You can hide all you want, but at least think about it,” Shen Yuan found himself calling out after him. “In the end, if left unchecked, you’ll only end up right back where you started.”

            Shen Qingqiu paused, only for a moment, before slamming the door to his bedroom shut.

***

            Shen Jiu paced his room, a deep, twisting ugly feeling crawling under his skin.

            Shen Yuan may not have said so explicitly, but it was clear that if Luo Binghe was placed into the position of victim, he had thoughts on what role that left Shen Qingqiu to fill.

            How dare that little-! He was not-!! He was not like that- that-!

It had taken all his will to not break off a larger shard of the teapot, slit the little insidious urchin’s throat, and be done with it.

            What did Shen Yuan know anyway? He had seen, secondhand, some of his pains, but that hardly made him an expert! If anything, that outfit he’d put on only proved he was just a rich, pompous fool just like the rest of the Jianghu, all fools who had never had to truly put forth the effort to get what they had- to become something worth being alive.

            He wanted to scream, but he would rather die again than give that little, obnoxious, irritating monster the satisfaction of knowing he had managed to strike a chord. So what if Luo Binghe, the beast, was a little roughed up? So what if he only ate once a day? He was still far from starving! And Shen Qingqiu had never carved into his skin! Never held smoldering coals to his flesh and laughed as he screamed! Never forced him to- to-!

Luo Binghe was lucky! Shen Qingqiu was kind and only scratched the surface of horror. Only used the barest threat to put him down into his place- to teach him what it meant to be a child of potential. He hadn’t even seemed like he was thin enough to have missed more than a handful of meals throughout the week when he was first brought up from digging that stupid hole. From a loving mother to a prestigious sect? Luo Binghe had never truly suffered!

            The boy had been so weak, if he were like that man it would have been so easy to-

            So easy to—

            He abruptly realized that the feeling coursing through him was lancing through his stomach and making his head buzz, and he was forced to lean against the sill, panting.

            Shen Jiu wasn’t like that man… no one could be as evil or as vile as him… that man was a monster and Shen Jiu had done the world a favor when he turned his innards to paste.

            He was not a good person, he knew that and accepted it. He was no good, and his Qi-ge was surely better off without him. But… he wasn’t so evil, surely?

            “I’m sorry, Shizun! I promise, please! I promise I’ll do better!”

            “Master… please, mercy!”

            He threw up out the window.

***

            Shen Qingqiu was waiting for him in the side room.

            Shen Yuan had been surprised to see the bed empty, having gotten so used to being up first to slip away. To not only have Shen Qingqiu beat him out the door but to find him in Binghe’s room, looking around at all the little things that heralded his little white lotus…?

            …it was decidedly bizarre.

            “If you ever compare me to Qiu Jianluo again, I will flay you alive, empty your viscera into a bowl, and make you pray over it,” Shen Qingqiu finally said as way of greeting, setting down a piece of calligraphy the disciple had once gifted to Shen Yuan with a neutral look of boredom.

            Shen Yuan nodded, a sense of quiet danger numbing the back of his skull. He had never really compared that, but it was best to be clear out the gate, right? Now he just knew to avoid any combination of words that could insinuate that really hard.

            “Now then,” Shen Qingqiu continued with a flick of his sleeves. “Where do you suggest we begin?”

            “What?” the transmigrator asked with a stupid expression.

            Shen Qingqiu sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose while he muttered something that sounded suspiciously close to “cannot believe this is what I have to work with,” before straightening. “The theory, Shen Yuan. The…rehab you spoke of. How does it… begin?”

            “Oh. Oh!” Shen Yuan smiled brightly, a feeling of victory settling over him. He was sure the other guy was going to gut him like a fish there for a second! “Well.., it kinda depends on what needs to be addressed.  With you… maybe it would be best to talk and see where you’re at? I’m not a therapist but I used to go in a few times a month for counselling. We can use some of what I learned there to start. Um… would you like to maybe discuss it over tea? I found the set in the kitchen, it doesn’t even look damaged! How’d you do that?”

            “It was the hellspirit,” Shen Qingqiu said with distain, gliding past, careful not to let his sleeves touch the other man. “It is the only thing its useful for.”

            “Yeah, it’s shitty malware most of the time…”

[Users are so mean to the System. ಥ _ ಥ {{ This is Our Get-Along House }} at 35% completion.]

Chapter Text

            It was… awkward.

            That was the understatement of the millennium, but it was what Shen Yuan had to work with. Shen Jiu was resistant on the best of days, short and sniping with his answers to Shen Yuan’s proffered questions, and the younger man often found himself sighing and shelving various attempts at discussion for another time. The few answers he did manage to accumulate were also… deeply concerning…

            It was becoming increasingly apparent that Shen Jiu was going to be much, much more difficult for him to handle than the initial agreement had implied. He was mean, possessive, quick to anger, and deflected all attempts to get into any truly personal conversations. Even simple things, like discussing hobbies or favored interests, were like pulling teeth.

            It took two days for the man to admit he liked tanghulu and fruit teas, even though Shen Yuan had literally used his tastebuds and knew they had a penchant for sweetness.

            But… they were getting somewhere!

            …maybe?

            Shen Yuan wasn’t a therapist, much less a therapist trained to handle… all that, but there seemed to be something happening behind the icy mask Shen Jiu wore. Granted that Shen Yuan knew even real therapy could take ages to finally find fruitful results, but he was going to focus on the baby steps!

            Like how Shen Jiu didn’t throw the tea service through the window again after he mentioned that one kid with the horse! In fact, after their latest bout, Shen Jiu had yelled at him plenty, but he hadn’t broken a single thing!

            Progress!!!

            And it only took him a month. Shen Yuan was so proud!

            And now, it seemed, their progress had earned them another type of victory as well.

[User quest {{This is Our Get-Along House}} has reached a milestone! As such, rebound boundaries have been increased! Users are encouraged to expand and enjoy the camaraderie!]

            Shen Yuan thought he could weep as he spread his hands out on the grass, watching the line where the bright, vibrant green surrounding the bamboo house abruptly cut back to gray.

            “Come outside!” he called back through the front door towards the bedroom where Shen Jiu had yet to emerge for the day. “You need sun!”

            “Did you hit your head this morning?” came the irritable response. Shen Yuan only laughed as the door slid open and he watched Shen Jiu’s face do a micro-expression replication of the surprised Pikachu meme. “What?”

            “We’re being rewarded for good behavior!” Shen Yun called back, his face aching from the smile at his lips as he flipped over to lay on his back. “Come here, get some vitamin D!”

            “Get what?”

            Shen Yuan blinked, and then smiled. “Get out here, and I’ll tell you all about it. If fact, I think it’d be interesting to get your thoughts on it from a cultivation perspective.”

            “You remain a fool,” Shen Jiu sniffed, cracking his fan out, looking like he’d rather die.

            The peak lord was extra prim and haughty as he glided out of the house for the first time in what felt like months and settled in a kneeling position on the lawn like an emperor, but Shen Yuan still claimed it (and the ensuing grass-endangering argument over whether or not inedia could be counted as a genuine development of photosynthesis) as a victory.

***

            Shen Yuan liked playing the piano, Shen Jiu could tell. He would often watch, pretending to read as the younger man’s seemingly boundless energies and ruffling enthusiasm for “talking about their feelings” settled quietly, his fingers moving delicately over the keys. (Shen Jiu had learned the proper term was “keys” and they connected to a board of hammers that struck the strings within instead of plucking like one would a guqin. He pretended that he was not intrigued to learn more. Truly, Shen Yuan could talk about his passions for seemingly endless bounds until he sheepishly remembered himself.)

            ((Shen Jiu did not mind listening, for the most part. Anything was better than the silence, not that he would admit as much, even with his last breath.))

            And Shen Yuan knew a great many songs. Unlike the students of his peak, who learned a set of standard basic pieces in their lessons that they were expected to maintain and not variate, Shen Yuan stated that once one had the formulative basics of the piano, they were often encouraged to play as their heart desired. Shen Yuan, often, would encapsulate as such, his fingers drifting along the keys in soft, unchained melodies that differed from the more solid constructions of practiced music.

            One day, as Shen Jiu once again pretended to read the bestiary he had all but memorized in his initial isolation, Shen Yuan paused his wandering hands, looking back at him over his shoulder.

            “You know,” he said, dropping his fingers from the board. “Music therapy is a thing. I know you have a harder time talking about your personal moments. Maybe you’d like to try that way instead?”

            “Music therapy,” Shen Jiu repeated in a flat tone.

            “Yeah,” Shen Yuan reaffirmed, turning on his playing stool. “I knew a guy who moved to Boston to study it, and he shared a few things about what he was learning with me once. I’m no expert, but it might be a bit of an easier introduction for you. Less talking and more… privacy, I guess you could say.”

            Shen Jiu considered it for a moment, setting his book down on the table. Shen Yuan, despite Shen Jiu’s own best efforts, did seem able to deduce some of his underpinnings, no matter how much he tried to limit the conversions. Perhaps something that did not require the use of explicit statements would be better for him, if he were to truly commit to this harebrained scheme of “rehabilitation” for a life that may or may not come.

            “Very well,” he eventually said simply.

            “Ah, cool,” Shen Yuan said with a bright smile, the kind that made the edges of his eyes crinkle and his head tilt to the side like a puppy looking for affection. “Maybe we can try this evening?”

            “Very well,” Shen Jiu agreed once more.

            How hard could music be, anyhow?

***

            Shen Yuan asked him to listen to one of his wandering note songs, and consider how it made him feel and any memories it might conjure. The notes left something in his heart so tangled and raw he excused himself for the night and laid on his bed, fighting the urge to curl up into a ball and claw it out of his chest.

***

            Shen Yuan seemed to be terrible at words, and even worse at music. He had thought it would be a good idea, ok?! Shen Jiu was being generous if he said more than three complete sentences in a talking session that weren’t insults to someone (Shen Yuan) or their mother (Shang Qinghua) or directed to some very specific people (Yue Qingyuan or Liu Qingge). So, he had thought a therapy that needed fewer words would be ideal to try! But Shen Jiu would only listen to whatever music Shen Yuan offered for that particular day’s emotion, and then get up, and go to his room.

            What the fuck was he supposed to do with that???? That was not how he intended therapy to work??? Weren’t they supposed to talk about what he felt afterwards?? Hello????

            But Shen Jiu still sat through the sessions, and on the one day Shen Yuan was willing to admit defeat and not bring it up, he even asked when Shen Yuan intended to start? He wanted to start??

            Shen Yuan’s shitty piano playing was actually doing something??????

            He picked the emotion “joyful” for the music theme that day- he deserved expression through music too dang it! A miracle was happening over at the desk! He didn’t know why, how, or what kind, but something was happening!

            The next session he even asked Shen Yuan to play something “reflective”. He was making requests for help feeling his feelings?! And Shen Yuan was actually able to deliver???

            Hello?!? Was this shit actually working?!

***

            Shen Jiu woke early, careful to untangle himself from Shen Yuan without waking him. The hour was young, the barest lines of dawn slipping over the horizon to paint the walls of the bamboo house a pale, whispering yellow.

            He was aware of the irony as he collected a single outer robe for modesty and slipped out of the bedroom, sticking a deafening talisman to the door on the way out. With silent steps, Shen Jiu approached Shen Yuan’s piano, turning up its wooden cover the way he had watched the other do on countless occasions by then.

            The strings were silent in their regard of him, as were the rows of black and white keys.

            He did not know how to play, but Shen Yuan had once gone on a rampage about key signatures and corresponding meanings and key placements. Shen Jiu found where the two white keys sat next to one another in the center of the board, the one on the right hand side ringing softly as he pressed down.

            Then he set about tuning his guqin, finding where the note resonated along his strings. In the end, he knew the piano mattered little- it would have no change on his ability to strum, but for some reason, something in him demanded it be open. To witness what he could not permit its owner to.

            Composition in and of itself was not something he was challenged by, but there, in the watercolor bleeds of predawn light, with the consideration of the silent piano and his own whirling thoughts, the notes to name the cacophony that filled him did not necessarily come easily.

            It was one thing to make something sound pleasing.

It was another to make it have meaning.

            When Shen Yuan finally emerged, it was to him plucking along the strings, basic and bare, not yet ready to be called anything other than wandering notes.

            He set the guqin aside, ignoring the question in the other’s gaze, and asked Shen Yuan to play the river song while he prepared their morning tea.

***

            “Spar with me,” Shen Jiu demanded one afternoon, striding out of his bedroom in attire that could almost be called Spartan by his usual standards. He wore only three layers, two of which gathered into his arm bracers, and the third short by a large margin- clearly only there for the fulfillment of his personal standard of modesty without getting in the way.

            “Uh,” Shen Yuan said from his spot curled up in the corner, his hair tossed up into a messy ponytail, wearing nothing but some whitewashed skinny jeans and a sleeveless green turtleneck. He canted his trashy romance book to the side. “Yeah, ok, I guess. I’ll need to find some shoes though.”

            “There is a set for you on the bed,” Shen Jiu said simply, flicking his long tresses (unbound, bold) over one shoulder. “Get changed and meet me outside.”

            Shen Yuan quirked a brow, but watched the other glide out the front door before obediently meandering into the bedroom, and oh. Shen Jiu meant there was a whole set for him- identical. He ran his fingers over the edges of the sleeves, tracing the stitching of bamboo leaves etched into the seams of the work with a thread so similar to the base, it was like the idea of embroidery more than an actual article.

            Even in accoutrement like this, made to be made dirty, Shen Jiu spared no expense, it seemed.

            But Shen Yuan knew an opening when he saw one! Other than requests for music, Shen Jiu had hardly ever invited Shen Yuan’s interaction. To be asked to spar was a lead, and one that the transmigrator would not waste!

            The clothing was soft, fine as any of the robes he had ever worn as Shen Qingqiu, and fitted to be flattering in all its angles. Still, he had never seen this particular set before, and he couldn’t quite resist the childish pout that passed over him. He had been dressing in six to eight layers of robes for years when this handy little piece was hiding somewhere the whole time?!

            It was perfectly decent- still more covering than most lighter garbs would be, even. But no- Shen Jiu had to set an outrageous standard. Shen Yuan quietly wondered if it was to help hide how thin being malnourished had left his body, even through into adulthood.

            But that was neither here nor there, although maybe one day he and Shen Jiu would be on good enough terms that he could ask him.

            Regardless, for the first time in ages, he dressed in his counterpart’s style, from a hair crown to encase a falling braid, all the way down to pristine white boots that came up to the tops of his calves.

            The doppelganger Shen once more.

            The peak lord was waiting, two training swords in hand, and a look in his eyes that Shen Yuan wasn’t quite sure how to classify. He caught the sword tossed to him easily, giving it a light spin in his hand. It was no Xiu Ya, but over the years, his skills had become familiar enough, and it seemed the System pitied him enough to let him keep a bit of the muscle memory.

            “Shen Yuan’s forms were lacking, when last this Master witnessed,” Shen Jiu said, his immortal peak lord aura radiating. “Such disgrace is best corrected by a firm hand.”

            Shen Yuan didn’t bother to point out that they were the only two people there, and as such no formality or training was really necessary. That glint in Shen Jiu’s eyes was almost dancing, and Shen Yuan found himself slipping into an over exaggerated bow, bordering on the edge of disrespectful and mocking.

            “This one turns himself over to the teaching,” he said simply. After all, who was he to deny Shen Jiu enrichment in their enclosure?

            “Then begin,” Shen Jiu ordered, and immediately stepped in to strike.

            Shen Yuan was able to keep the par for the first few moves, but holy shit Shen Jiu was fast. He adjusted his footing, feeling adrenaline begin to pulse through him as he and the peak lord moved against one another.

            “Is this the best Shen Yuan has to offer?” Shen Jiu taunted after a while, their wooden blades crossed at the guards, entering a stalemate.

            “Immortal Master Shen is still panting, isn’t he?” came the answer with a smirk.

            “Cheeky.”

            They continued, tearing through the grass, the back garden, even exchanging blows on the edges of the roof, until the afternoon sun turned blazing red and sank towards the edge of their hollow reality, and their swords both snapped on a particularly brutal strike, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

            Shen Yuan felt like he couldn’t move when he turned to make a quip, only to see Shen Jiu laying in the grass with his eyes closed, sunset painting him in blazing gold, with a small, brilliant, tired smile stretching across his lips.

            “Perhaps Shen Yuan is not so hopeless after all.”

***

            They sparred every few days, and dispersed through the days where they did not, Shen Yuan would play the piano for Shen Jiu in the evenings, or Shen Jiu would play the guqin for him. Shen Yuan sometimes caught the other unawares, the fumbling notes of something taking shape lingering on the air before the man would notice his attention and switch tracks.

            Shen Jiu had been acting squirrely all evening, flicking strings with an unusual restlessness that Shen Yuan couldn’t help but puzzle over. He couldn’t be annoyed about their earlier activities- he had been engrossed in a book and later won all five rounds of go, and the food they’d agreed on for the day had all been to his tastes.

            So, what had him in such a mood?

            “Its good that he’s not lashing out, I guess,” Shen Yuan thought to himself. “But I wonder what’s bothering him…”

            Suddenly, the twang of the guqin soured, and Shen Jiu smacked a hand over the strings, stopping their vibrations.

            “I am retiring early,” he announced, getting up and sweeping towards the bedroom.

            “Are you ok?” Shen Yuan asked at the same time. “Oh…um.”

            “…I do not wish to speak tonight,” Shen Jiu said after a moment, some emotion flittering across his face too quickly for Shen Yuan to decipher. “Goodnight.”

            “Ok,” Shen Yuan said lamely. “Goodnight, then. Rest well.”

            Shen Yuan never went back to the bedroom at night, by his own unspoken agreement to permit Shen Jiu his space without interference. Instead, he usually curled up with a book in Binghe’s room, reading until the world turned and he fell off into the darkness, waking in the soft, perfectly perfect sheets of a different bed, and then unceremoniously banished from the room once more. After Shen Jiu’s departure, the night followed as usual, but the morning found him held up in bed.

            Literally.

             “Do not say anything,” Shen Jiu threatened into his shoulder blades from where he growled into his back, the grip the peak lord had on the front of Shen Yuan’s robe slowly detangling and retreating back behind him to where the other hid, sandwiched between the transmigrator and the wall.

            “I-” Shen Yuan started.

            “Do not,” Shen Jiu repeated. “Get out. I need to get dressed.”

            “…alright.” Shen Yuan slipped from the bed and snagged something from the wardrobe. “If… if you want a hug though you can just ask! It’s cool, no homo, bro. Okay, no, yeah, mercy! I’m leaving! I’m leaving!”

            He laughed as one of the decorative pillows hit the back of the door, not fearing too terribly at seeing the pink tips of the lord’s ears, peeking out from hair that had not yet been corralled into a crown. More like a disgruntled kitten than a lunging tiger, really.

            Shen Jiu took a bit longer to come out of his room, but he didn’t threaten Shen Yuan for the rest of the day.

            So there was that.

***

            Shen Jiu regarded the tray with disgust.

            The taller, clear container was filled with some sweet-smelling brown… mixture of chilled and dubious origin, and the plate was not much better with its startling smear of orange slime atop a bed of pale yellow…somethings.

            “I cannot believe this is being presented as a gift,” Shen Jiu sighed to himself, knocking on the door of the side room where Shen Yuan was no doubt kicking his feet on the bed like a blushing maiden as he read about another of his disgusting monsters. “You. Come out, I have something for you.”

            “For me?” came the muffled response, followed by the chaos that was bound to follow whenever Shen Yuan truly got comfortable anywhere.

            The patience that the Peak Lord had managed to muster over the eternity of dealing with Shen Yuan’s Yuan-ness could almost be called a true effort of the heavens on some days, really.

            He settled the tray of so-called food on the table and picked up his book as Shen Yuan emerged from his latest reading frenzy, the over robe he had haphazardly thrown on over one of his “tanked tops” slipping down one arm as he swung into the room, and froze.

            “I am told you will like… whatever the hell this is,” Shen Jiu explained with an absentminded wave of his hand. “So take it wherever you like, just do not make a mess.”

            “…bro.” Shen Jiu had already clearly professed that he was not Shen Yuan’s ‘bro’ but the wavering sound of emotion carried in the single word had him looking up from his latest trashy pulp novel of Shen Yuan’s hiding behind the cover of an illuminated manuscript. “Is that… oh my god, it is.”

            “If it offends you, as it should, take it up will the hellspirit.”

            “Jiu-ge, you have no idea how much I have wanted this! Thank you!”

            Shen Jiu gaped at him, shock dawning as Shen Yuan really slid to his knees in front of him, ripped open the white covering on what looked like a hollow blue reed and started sucking the brown-!

            “You cannot actually enjoy that,” he said in quiet, abject horror. “This is a horrible joke conspired by you and that hellspirit.”

            “You will respect the good name of slurpees, Jiu-ge!” Shen Yuan wagged a finger at him like he was a misbehaving toddler. “And nachos are a staple food of my generation! I will not have their salty goodness thrashed by a man who doesn’t even know what good cheese tastes like. Here, try a bite.”

            “I would rather spend a week trapped in a cave with Liu Qingge,” the peak lord sneered. “It looks messy and gross.”

            “Rude.”

            “Consume your garbage food and then go away.”

            “Rude!”

            “But accurate, as you did not refute.”

            “Get- ah!” Shen Yuan suddenly fell forward, clutching his head in his hands. “Fuck, I forgot that happens!!”

            “Is it poisoning you?” He tilted his head to the side, sedately waving his fan in front of his face to hide the small, amused smile he was having trouble suppressing.

            “It’s a brain freeze,” Shen Yuan managed to eek out. “And fuck you.”

            “Serves you and your horrible taste right.”

***

            The last notes of Shen Yuan’s wandering song held heavy on the air, Shen Jiu listening with his eyes closed, his head supported on the flats of his knuckles by the desk. The emotion today had once again been reflection, but the atmosphere seemed to naturally sink down towards a somber mood as the music had gone on.

            Shen Yuan couldn’t help but watch his counterpart for a while, noting that it was unusual for him to linger once the playing had ended.

            “Are you alright?” he finally asked, once several minutes of silence had gone by.

            “I am adequate,” Shen Jiu answered after another pause, finally straightening up and opening his eyes once more.

            Shen Yuan couldn’t help but think that they looked tired… but in that way of burden more than just physical need for rest.

            “…can I comb your hair tonight?”

            They both startled at Shen Yuan’s question, the peak lord’s eyes instantly narrowing in suspicion and distrust.

            “Sorry,” Shen Yuan rushed to say, waving his hand. “Sorry, that’s probably like, a super intimate thing here, isn’t it? I didn’t mean to be rude; you just seem like you’re having a hard couple of days, and I used to do it for my sister all the time when we were kids. So, it just… slipped. You don’t have to say anything, its fine, I’m just gonna go… die from embarrassment in the side room or something.”

            Halfway through his mortified quest to expire via smothering himself in Binghe’s pillows, there was a soft knock at the door, so quiet it was almost like it never happened at all. He paused, lifting his head from its fluffy coffin and staring at the door.

            There was definitely a shadow shifting slightly on the other side.

            He reached the handle just as it began to move away, pulling the door open to reveal the back of the peak lord, who paused in his retreat to look over his shoulder. He was still dressed in his regalia, despite the late hour, and seemed like he was also surprised to be there.

            “…you managed to strike my shoulder in our spar today,” Shen Jiu eventually said, the haughty air of his voice dampened by the hesitation. “It is only fair that you would handle its use until it is put right again.”

            “Of course.” Shen Yuan smiled softly and nodded, with a tact understanding that Shen Jiu was not to be reminded that he was one of the most powerful men in the world, who’s cultivation would have handled such an injury in minutes, if it had even actually happened at all.

            Shen Yuan couldn’t remember getting any solid strikes that afternoon, anyway.

            He followed silently, not wanting to break the strange, stilted silence of what was being offered to him, feeling the situation was like a feral cat deciding to allow a human to pet its head. If he spooked Shen Jiu now, there was no telling how long it would take for the trust he was offering to return.

            The hair was silky, deep as ink and familiar where it cascaded between Shen Yuan’s fingers as he removed the signature guan that Shen Qingqiu wore. As though through instinct, his own memories of the tension such a style could cause, his thumbs gently pressed on points of tension, smoothing them down with a quiet hum before reaching for the wooden comb. How Shen Jiu managed to so thoroughly thrash him in their hand to hand and not have an absolute mess of tangles was beyond him.

            Even as he was focused on the strands, he could feel Shen Jiu watching him like a hawk in the mirror, his phoenix eyes locked onto him, tracing every movement to bring the comb down through the ends of his absurdly long hair and back up to the top. He may have run the comb through a few extra times, but Shen Jiu seemed to be overall cautiously enjoying the process, so surely it couldn’t be too bad? Once he felt that he was pushing his luck with how long the lord would permit him to touch, though, he smoothed the ends of the strands with a light camellia hair oil, and twisted them together in a loose braid for sleep, laying it over the other’s shoulder.

            “There,” Shen Yuan said simply, meeting the gaze in the silver mirror with a smile. “All finished.”

            “Mm,” Shen Jiu hummed. “Now sit.”

            And suddenly Shen Yuan found himself corralled in front of the vanity, his own messy ponytail being released with a dainty tug on the ribbon, and falling in nothing but tangles to his back.

            “You don’t have to,” he started, only to receive a flick to the back of his head and an order to sit still.

            So he sat. And Shen Jiu combed out the knots and snarls of his hair, mimicking Shen Yuan as he worked the oil through the ends and twisted it into a simple braid. And then Shen Jiu continued to surprise him, removing the belt around his waist and letting his over robes fall off his shoulders, carelessly throwing them over the chair.

            “You’re here,” the peak lord said with a false air of nonchalance, gesturing to the bed. “You may as well take your place now.”

            “Are you sure you’re comfortable with that?” Shen Yuan asked, his eyes wide as the fucking moon.

            “Did I stutter, Shen Yuan?”

            He had not.

            And that was how Shen Yuan found himself changing into a sleeping robe behind the privacy screen and crawling into the bed he woke up in every morning, awkwardly settling between the edge of the bed and the man, laid out on his back and valiantly pretending to be a corpse.

            Shen Jiu was either finally letting him in, or he was going to wait for him to fall asleep and find a way to subvert the system and commit transmigratonal murder.

            Against all odds, they just kind of… laid there. Shen Jiu was clearly tense on the other side of the mattress, no more so than Shen Yuan, but they didn’t suddenly enter a scuffle for dominance over the bedsheets or trying to smother each other with the pillows. Slowly Shen Yuan found himself relaxing, one miniscule muscle at a time, until he felt comfortable enough in the situation to roll over onto his side, leaving his back right open to the other.

            “I have a knife,” Shen Jiu suddenly started, his whisper like thunder after the silence. “I could stab you.”

            “Even if you do actually have a knife, you wouldn’t stab me,” Shen Yuan refuted sleepily, the last functional part of his brain surprised to find the statement to be considered true.

            “Shen Yuan sounds very sure of himself.”

            “Shen Yuan is sure of himself,” he agreed, nuzzling into the pillow to make his point. “Who’d play the piano otherwise?”

            “You’d trust me enough to sleep knowing I could be armed and dangerous?”

            “Did I stutter, Shen Jiu?”

            Something did poke him in the back then, but Shen Yuan just chuckled and the jabbing finger retreated for a moment.

            “Do I pass whatever test this was?” Shen Yuan sleepily asked, halfway out.

            He felt Shen Jiu’s arm sneak under his own, and his face burrow against his back, and Shen Yuan did not resist the cuddle, the weight offering a strange sense of reassurance. “The verdict has been reached. Shen Yuan is too stupid to be malicious.”

            “That’s me, the stupid, not malicious didi.” He yawned, feeling his limbs turn to lead and sleep press against his mind. “Mm…goodnight, Jiu-ge.”

            “…goodnight…Yuan-di.”

Chapter Text

            Life, against all of Yue Qingyuan’s wishes, continued on.

            The sun still rose, the birds still sang.

            The plot in his garden, hidden from the world in every manner he could contrive, remained still, although his gentle probing showed that everything he was able to observe seemed finished developing. But still, no breath settled into its lungs.

            And life went on.

            The sect ran. Liu Qingge fought for a corpse. Qinghua continued his efforts as a mole in the demon realm. They finally got Mu Qingfang back to his peak in one piece to tend to aforementioned war god. Yue Qingyuan remembered how to smile without the edges of sorrow, and how to lift other’s spirits when his own was wavering between visits to the bamboo house and tearful re-readings of Shen Jiu’s hidden confessions.

            Life went on.

            At least, he dared to think with a modicum of gratefulness, it did not go on entirely alone.

            “And then he left me the equivalent of six pages worth of complaints on how I had mischaracterized her for the sake of emotional tribulation,” Shang Qinghua was saying, sipping on a new mystery liquid and crunching melon seeds. “I was so annoyed, but he did make good points.”

            “Yuan-didi was always one for specifics,” Yue Qingyuan agreed. “It is one of the many traits he and Qingqiu-shidi shared.”

            “You know, he’d absolutely throttle me if he knew, but there were times when I was writing that I would consider how he might react to a situation, and then work it into the text. A secret homage, I guess one could call it.”

            “You do not often talk of the writing,” Yue Qingyuan noted, sipping his tea as he stared at the two untouched settings on the far side of the table. “I am honored you chose tonight.”

            “Yeah well…” Shang Qinghua sighed. “It’s a bit more awkward when you’re talking to the person you made. But frankly, my guy, I miss my friend, and I’m a little too buzzed to care about it being weird. Besides, I know you’re a good listener- I made you that way.”

            “Why did you?” Yue Qingyuan found himself asking, swaying slightly. Shang Qinghua had convinced him to mix some of the mystery liquid into the teapot, and he could feel its warmth settling in his veins, softening his reservations along with his spine.

            “Well Shen Jiu would run off someone who wasn’t.” The author shrugged. “You two were a pair, so I had to make you both in a way that would fit together. He’s mean, but you’re nice to everyone, but you’d each burn yourself to the ground to keep the other safe. He takes what you give and gives what he can in return. You work up front, he runs the background. Just… foils and literary shit. It made sense at the time. Now you’ve both gone off and taken the traits I gave you to the extremes… I guess that’s my fault too.”

            “You made us for each other?” Yue Qingyuan could feel something in his chest go soft at the notion. He’d always felt like he and Shen Jiu had belonged together, but to be made for one another…

            Shang Qinghua just looked at him in that way he did sometimes, where one could see that he knew more than he was supposed to but kept it close to his chest.

            “I’d give you all the answers,” the other peak lord said after a few minutes of silence, sipping his liquor. “But I suspect that if Shen Jiu ever does come back, he’d flay me alive. Besides, Shen Yuan has changed a whole bunch of stuff. I may be the original designer, but I’m no longer the head authority here. If that’s something that you want to know, I suggest holding out and getting it from the source.”

            “And if Shen Yuan is the one to return?”

            “…then we can talk about it some more, I guess.”

            Yue Qingyuan nodded softly, sipping more of the spiked tea, and stared up at the moon. It had been a long wait, but something in his core whispered that it couldn't be much longer now.

            Shang Qinghua said nothing more, but for once, the silence didn’t feel quite so oppressive as it did before.

***

            Eons passed. Or maybe just weeks. Months? Shen Jiu wasn’t sure, in that space where time didn’t really matter.

            He found himself in a new position, one he had never occupied before. Being a shixiong was different than a gege, it seemed, in that his newly appointed didi, seemingly sensing that he would not bite his fingers off at the slightest hint of his shenanigans, became akin to an over-soaked piece of rice- in that he was sticky and incredibly annoying.

            Shen Yuan would pester him from the moment they woke up to the moment they laid down beside one another to sleep.

            “Jiu-ge, let me comb your hair,” this and “Jiu-ge, when will you show me how to refine the motions of that qi technique,” that. Play go, play music, play games that made no sense. Jiu-ge, go for a walk around the newly expanded boundary with him, have snacks with him, settle for meditation or napping. Jiu-ge tell him a joke, or listen to his best ones.

            (They were mostly subpar, or of a theme that was too tinged in other-world humor for Shen Jiu to understand, but still, he found himself hiding smiles behind his fan as Shen Yuan nearly reduced himself to tears sharing the story of a man who accidentally joined a crime syndicate whilst learning a new language.)

            And each instance for companionship or tolerance found the Jiu-ge in question heaving a sigh like is was the greatest request in the world, and agreeing.

            He often threatened to stab Shen Yuan, but unlike that first night in bed, with the wicked blade he kept hidden in the back seam of the mattress, he didn’t actually mean the threat. No, Shen Yuan, with all his Yuan-ness that so clearly annoyed him, had managed to slip in through the smallest cracks in Shen Jiu’s armor, curling around his heart and nesting there.

            Shen Jiu found that he simply didn’t have the will or desire to remove him. Not that he would ever admit that he enjoyed the warmth such a predicament brought his cold, haunted bones.

            Which was probably why he felt like he was dying all over again, pacing the room as he watched the bed from which Shen Yuan refused to rise. The night before had gone as usual- they played songs together, helped each other settle their hair for the night, and then crawled into bed. Shen Yuan mumbled about music, games, and his latest monster obsession, until they’d both drifted off to sleep.

            But in the morning, Shen Jiu awoke, and Shen Yuan… didn’t. Not to shaking, not to yelling, not to threats or begging. Nothing.

            “Demon,” Shen Jiu finally hissed into the void. “Answer me. What’s wrong with him?”

[The System is available for 24 hour service! Running diagnostics… running diagnostics…]

[Diagnostic results: No Abnormalities Detected!]      

            “Then why does he not wake?” Shen Jiu could feel the burn of his anger welling. Clearly something was wrong!

[Host Authority Key recognition: …permitted.]

[Answering Host:]

[Host User is currently in a lowered data orbit for System data maintenance due to external interference. Data management and maintenance may require additional processing time to reinstall, please be patient as the System Server runs background diagnostics.]

            “What do you mean, outside interference?” Shen Jiu asked, his heart going cold.

[Answering Host: …data unavailable.]

            Shen Jiu returned to pacing, waving the demon away with a growl.

            Was this what Shen Yuan had seen, all that time ago? Had Shen Jiu laid there like a corpse, with nothing so simple as a fluttering breath to remind himself of the living?

            No wonder Shen Yuan had looked so badly. But Shen Jiu hadn’t be cognizant of the passed time at all…

            How long had they been on Not-Qing Jing? When they laid to rest, was it just rest, or did weeks pass by each night with neither of them taking note? How long did it take to grow a mushroom body? How long did it take for a mind to find its way back?

            How long would it be before Shen Yuan woke up to ask him for a song again?

            Shen Jiu didn’t want to find out, crawling back into the bed and gathering his didi back into his arms.

            “You’re mine now,” he whispered into his shoulder blades, squeezing tight. “That means you’re not allowed to leave me like this, so you had better wake up soon, didi.”

***

            The bed was warm, but something was wrong. He could tell…

            He shifted, sliding one of his legs back to search for that comfortable touch, only to be met with the bedsheets. And more bedsheets. And his hand, flung out behind him, found the same.

            The bed had no other body, despite the moonlight slanting through the window.

            Where was Jiu-ge?

            Shen Yuan raised his head, heavy with sleep and looked around. It was either very, very late or very, very early. Shen Jiu had gone to bed with him, but now he was nowhere to be seen.

            The door was ajar, and Shen Yuan sleepily pulled on an outer robe before silently padding out into the hallway, noting the front door was open as well, framing the silhouette sitting on the front steps.

            “Wha’re you doin’ out here?” Shen Yuan managed to slur out around a yawn as he stepped out into the porch, making the other jump.

            Shen Jiu looked up at him from the steps, rising to his feet in a blur and promptly squishing Shen Yuan’s face in his hands.

            “Hnllo,” Shen Yuan said through his smooshed lips.

            He smiled when Shen Jiu stepped back and slapped his shoulder. “You’ve been asleep for six days,” his gege groused. “How can I deal with all the noise constantly? I came out here to escape your endless snoring.”

            “Sorry for troubling ge,” Shen Yuan said seriously. “I didn’t mean to.”

            “I know that!” Shen Jiu snapped, briskly turning away and returning to his spot on the steps. Shen Yuan noticed his guqin hiding behind the railing, set aside for the time being. “Just don’t do it again. It was annoying.”

            “I’ll do my best,” Shen Yuan promised, settling down next to the peak lord. “Is it just me, or does the moon look fuller?”

            “Don’t be stupid,” Shen Jiu said, turning his face away as he wrapped his arms up in his sleeves. “Nothing here will ever change.”

            Shen Yuan hummed, turning to watch his brother in favor of the ever-still skies. Shen Jiu seemed… ruffled, now that he was looking a bit closer. He was still in layers, but it was only three as opposed to the many he would wear outside of bed, and his hair, up in its bun without a crown, seemed mussed. Almost as through wandering fingers had strayed to pull the fringes free after it had been styled.

            “You seem upset,” Shen Yuan said, leaning back on his hands. “Were you worried?”

            “I just told you not to be stupid,” Shen Jiu deflected. “I was fine when it happened to me. Of course you’d be fine too.”

            “Mm.” Shen Yuan hummed, stretching his legs out and tilting his head back to bask in the light of a half moon.

            “…” Shen Jiu held his silence, flicking a strand of wayward hair back over his shoulder before not-so-subtly settling closer to Shen Yuan.

            “Do you think that maybe it’s trying to pick one of us?” Shen Yuan eventually asked.

            “It is a… a diagnostic, the spirit said,” Shen Jiu answered, his eyes scanning the empty tree line.

            “No fair! It wouldn’t tell me anything! Why did it answer you?”

            “Host privilege,” Shen Jiu said with a brief flash of his teeth. “It knows who’s in charge here.”

            “Jiu-ge,” Shen Yuan whined, bumping their shoulders together.

            “Get off,” the elder huffed, shoving him away with almost no strength at all. “Honestly, you’re embarrassing us when you act like that.”

            “Ooo I forgot Mr Cold and Aloof was hiding around all that Jiu-ge I see over here.” His finger was smacked away before it could make contact with the other, but the hidden smirk he expected to accompany it never showed as Shen Jiu turned his head away. “Hey… seriously. Are you alright?”

            “…” Shen Jiu seemed to wilt slightly, his gaze affixed somewhere into the false-heavens above. “Do you think this is all there is?”

            Shen Yuan arched a brow, surprised by the somber turn. “What do you mean?”

            “I died, but I did not find a river, or a bridge, or… or anything. There was only this, and this is a mask over the vast emptiness of… nothing. Do you think… I have no next life, because my world is…”

            Ah.

            They had broached a deeper discussion on the subject of Proud Immortal Demon Way exactly once during one of their more open heart-to-hearts. It had… not been received well. Not that he could really blame the peak lord for his rough reaction- it was kind of a lot to be told your whole existence had been crafted by some idiot trying to make a buck and the horrors of your life only happened for other’s entertainment.

            Yeah… it had gone really not good. At Shen Jiu’s request, Shen Yuan had not brought it up again. He was surprised the peak lord would either.

            “If I am all that I am, because this is all I was ever meant to be, is there a point in going back?” Shen Jiu continued. “If the vessel does choose me, will it actually change anything? Or does it change because it was you? Someone… someone real to direct the rest of us…”

            “You’re real,” Shen Yuan found himself saying, vehemently, with an intensity that even took him by surprise.   “Sorry, I just… When I first transmigrated, I looked at everyone like a character. Like they were nothing more than words transcribed into images. Like a video game. You remember how I told you about those? Yeah… and the System doesn’t really help that feeling. But the more I go on, the more I’ve realized… that’s not how it is at all.”

            “But I do not come from a world like yours.”

            “And I don’t come from a world like a million others,” Shen Yuan said with a shrug. “Maybe we’re both from story worlds. Maybe I’m as much of a character for someone as you are. Maybe we’re both from a story, written by a greater hand for entertainment or distraction. Or maybe we’re both real, and we are lucky to have met across the spans of the universe. But that doesn't really matter, I think.”

            “Doesn’t matter?” Shen Jiu hissed, a furrow appearing between his brows. “How can it not matter?”

            “Because at the end of the day, we don’t know.” Shen Yuan bumped their shoulders together. “We don’t know what world is ‘real’ or came first, or if we’re all a bunch of stories floating around bumping into each other. In my first life there was something called the multiverse that kind of went into that. Multiple worlds, with iterations of the same people in different situations, living different lives. But it was still the same person. No matter where I go, I’m still me. And you’re still you.”

            “I’m a caricature made to suffer. What if… what if this is the only situation I fill? If gods so hate my position that I am left to be only this? That each time the book is closed, it only begins again on the next passerby’s curiosity. I am born, I am abandoned, I suffer, I cause suffering, I die, only to be born again. I do not know if I can tolerate the knowledge of an endless cycle.”

            “Then break it,” Shen Yuan said simply. “If you do not like the end that was written for you, you don’t have to go that way. You know what to look out for now, and how to avoid those flags.”

            “Do you really think it so simple? You still prepared for death at the beast’s hands.”

            “Only because I arrived part way through the arc,” Shen Yuan defended, shaking his head. “Besides, things have already changed. Why not change more once one of us ends up back there?”

            “If it is you… what will happen to me?” Shen Jiu pulled his knees up at this, looking awfully small and vulnerable in his simple hair and messy robes. “I thought it was fine to be alone before, but now… I do not think that is how I would wish for my eternity.”

            “If I go back, I’ll find a way to get you too,” Shen Yuan promised, standing with a stretch. “But enough of that for now, I’ve been sleeping all this time! Why don’t you play something for us if you’re not tired? I’ll make some tea.”

            Shen Jiu hummed, pulling his guqin out from his place by the railing, settling it on his lap and absentmindedly strumming a few notes. He heard him mumble something, but turned to hide the smile at the quiet sounds of “idiot didi” that hid under the chords as they resolved into proper music.

            Later, they sat with the tea, quiet on the steps as they watched the static stars above. Shen Yuan inelegantly dropped his head to rest on the elder’s shoulder, smiling softly when a gentle touch was returned.

            Shen Yuan couldn’t help but happily ponder to himself that the stars and moon may have never changed in the time since their meeting, but perhaps the same could not be said for them.

***

            Shen Jiu brought it up again a few days later, as they lay panting in the grass after a particularly intense sparring session, the sun sinking into the edge of the world with a fiery red-orange-gold blazing glory, a water set resting between them as they cooled down.

            “If I were to be the one to go back,” the elder started, his green eyes painted striking emerald by the light, “would it not be a betrayal of my past self to abandon my plights? If I am not Shen Qingqiu, the villain, then who am I to be?”

            “Well…” Shen yuan paused, taking a sip as he watched the sunset. “That’s kind of the hard part, I guess. Even when you grow up, you never really stop being you, you know? There’s a part of you that’s still a little street kid yearning for safety, and another that’s an angry teen who wants justice for his master’s abuse, and the part that’s struggling through pain who wants to heal, and then… all those pieces stack up together and make the foundation of who you are now, and that’ll be the foundation for whoever you choose to be going forward. But who that is, that is a choice you have to make. To decide if who you are today will be better than who you were yesterday, and so on.”

            Shen Jiu seemed to consider the sentiment, his thumb tracing along his sleeve. “When I recognized the beast as the demon from the visions, I swore I would do whatever it took,” the lord said suddenly. “No matter how vile it made me, I would do anything to get him to leave… perhaps that said more about me than his regard for persevering.”

            “What about it made you so intent, if I can ask?” Shen Yuan dared, finally feeling like Shen Jiu wouldn’t castrate him for asking him to share his more direct thoughts and feelings. “I know we kind of touched on it before, but…”

            “…Qi-ge,” came the delayed answer. “I didn’t care if I were to die. I know I am not a goodly person to be missed. But Qi-ge… he is different. Even in his distaste for me, he has never treated me overly poorly. And he is… good… for the sect. I did not wish for him to meet such a fate on my behalf. It would be unsuitable, for someone like him to die for someone like me.”

            “For his friend?”

            “I was not his friend,” Shen Jiu huffed. “I was his burden. A secret to harbor and appease with wealth until it agreed to be silent as to a shared true nature, nothing more.”

            “Yeah… you do realize he definitely didn’t think that about you right?” Shen Yuan sat up, a frown tugging at his lips. “It’s important to me that you understand that he cares.”

            “Do not pander to me, Shen Yuan. I am in no mood for it.”

            “I’m not pandering, Jiu-ge! Yue Qingyuan likes you a lot!”

            “He did not.”

            “His smile-“

            “Was an affected one, harbored for every person to cross his gaze in the art of diplomatic civility,” Shen Jiu interrupted, getting up abruptly and walking towards the bamboo house. “It didn’t mean anything for me more than it did for anyone.”

            “And I suppose the fact that he immediately started crying and locked himself in his house to get drunk for a month when he found out I wasn’t you means nothing too, right?”

            Shen Jiu halted in his retreat. “He what?”

            Shen Yuan sat up straighter in the grass. “Yup. Ugly crying too. Like, deep, heaving sobs that made it seem like his own limbs were being- oof, nope, bad analogy.” He stood, making his way over. “Point being- he was devastated. Like, I was worried I might have to put a call out on him with Mu Qingfang levels of devastated. I don’t think he was able to look at me for months without looking like a man who’d lost his will to exist let alone be happy.”

            “…” Shen Jiu watched him, his fine features carefully blank save for the small furrow between his brows. “If he cared so  much, we would not have ended as we did,” he finally seemed to settle on saying.

            “Maybe you should ask him again if you get the chance,” Shen Yuan said with a shrug, moving past him to go inside and get cleaned up. “Give him one more chance to hash out whatever happened after the manor.”

            Shen Jiu scoffed, clearly annoyed, behind him, doing the oh-so-elegant-lord equivalent of flopping back down into the grass with a frown, his fan waving irritably in front of his face. “Go bathe. You’re filthy.”

            “Mleh,” Shen Yuan sophisticatedly answered, pointing his tongue in the other’s direction. Still, the request for space was clear in the subtext. “I’m using the bath salts!”

            “Good, maybe then I’ll be able to sit next to you without gagging.”

            “Maybe I’ll use all the bath salts then!” he called back.

            “The container will be full again in an incense stick’s worth of time anyway.”

            “Well then enjoy sitting out here in the sunset by yourself!”

            “Perhaps I will, thank you for the invitation, didi.”

“Bastard.”

            “Idiot.”

***

            Shen Jiu was right that the container would refill on their own, so he hid said container in the sleeve of the outer robe he stole and cackled when the other came calling for retribution with dripping hair and a beating fan. He was so good at this whole didi thing!

***

            “Play Kiss the Rain for me,” Shen Jiu ordered after dinner one night. He had finally managed to pull enough to get a simple normal meal of light congee and fruit again, rather than whatever new monstrosity Shen Yuan would have lined up for them, and he was in a rather pleasant mood.

            “Again?” Shen Yuan said with a chuckle, rising to open the piano anyway. “You really like that one, huh?”

            “It has significance that helps me ponder,” Shen Jiu said primly, sipping the simple white jasmine tea he’d brewed for the dinner service. “Much more so than listening to you ramble about aetherdrakes and their native habitats.”

            “You’re just salty because I got to learn something before you did,” Shen Yuan teased, playing a few wandering notes before settling in properly. “Any other requests for the night?”

            “The Waltz of Chihiro,” Shen Jiu answered, closing his eyes. “Entertain yourself for the rest.”

            He could feel the tension of his shoulders slowly begin to loosen as the notes emerged, so startlingly different than what he would know from his own world, and so intrinsically tied to his didi. The tumbling, churning thoughts that had harrowed him for a considerable amount of time unwound, and Shen Jiu found himself in a halfway meditative state, letting the sound wash over him and pass along.

            One song, and another, and then Shen Yuan began the familiar cadence of his wandering songs, soft around the edges and breathing with the feeling of life that the younger exuded. Eventually, he started doing that thing he would sometimes, where the notes would stumble and catch over a melody made hazy with time, and he would pick over the keys until he found the pattern once more.

            The openness of it brought a modicum of peace in and of itself.

            Tonight, it seemed that Shen Yuan was particularly avid, teasing out a string of notes, only to begin humming softly, harmonizing with himself.

            “You fill up my senses,” Shen Yuan suddenly began to sing softly. “Like a night in the forest… Like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain….”

            Shen Jiu’s eyes opened, careful not to move too quickly as he turned to watch the other play along the keys, focused only on the song he was sharing that left something tight in Shen Jiu’s chest unfurling.

            “Come, let me love you. Let me give my life to you… Let me drown in your laughter, let me… die in your arms.” Shen Yuan’s voice cracked suddenly, the keys under his fingers jarring slightly. “Hm hmmm… let me always be with you… come let me love you, hmm hmm…”

            His breath suddenly caught once more, the music ceasing as his hands left to subtly wipe at his face, the movements partially hidden from where Shen Jiu was watching.

            “I’m sorry,” Shen Yuan said quietly. “I’m having a hard time remembering the rest of the words.”

            “Perhaps didi is merely tired,” Shen Jiu offered just as softly, rising from his place by the table. “Come. This one will comb your hair.”

            When the morning came, Shen Jiu didn’t mention the way Shen Yuan’s silent tears had soaked the pillows that night, nor the way he had listened to each wracking breath, rubbing small circles into his didi’s sternum with his fingertips as Yue Qi had once done for him as a child.

            Words of comfort had never been his strength, after all.

***

            “And did you stand for it?” Shen Yuan asked, the gleam of the nightpearls bright against his tired smile, flagging after an evening of tea and snacks, his cajoling words teasing out stories left dusty in the annals of Shen Jiu’s memory.

            “Of course not,” Shen Jiu answered haughtily. “What self-respecting person would? Naturally the group of them were anonymously reported to the governor’s house, and his own daughter’s name was mentioned, so of course it was all handled very quickly and a great deal of money changed hands in the name of good reputation and peace for the city.”

            “Oh, of course,” Shen Yuan snarked, his teeth glinting, bringing Shen Jiu’s likeness around his features for a flash of a moment. “Bastards are always happy to comply when its their interest on the line.”

            “That might be the most aware thing you’ve ever said,” Shen Jiu teased. “The fool can be taught.”

            “Rude.”

            “I jest, didi.” He poured the other a fresh cup of tea. “You wouldn’t have lasted half so well if you were not at least passable.”

            “…next session we’re going to work on you giving compliments.”

            “I refuse,” Shen Jiu snarked. “Now, I believe it is didi’s turn to gossip. Wait a moment, this master will set the example for his sprouting student and fetch us fresh tea.”

            “If I’m a student, what does that make the disciples?”

            “You say that as though this master has not managed a whole peak of students for many years.”

            “We can call it that, if you’d like.”

            “Brat,” he hissed without venom, tapping his fan on the other’s head as he passed by, tea set balanced elegantly in his other hand. “Clear the table for more, this isn’t the cave of a goblin.”

            “Mleh.”

            As he made his way down the hall, a sudden sense of vertigo rushed over him, and Shen Jiu could see nothing but darkness for a moment, the easy peace of the night shattering in an instant.

            “Jiu-ge?” came Shen Yuan’s worried call. “Are you alright?”

            The dizziness let up for a moment, and the glimmering shards of the tea set greeted him, the soaked, soured leaves leaching onto the floor in front of where he leaned against the wall.

            “Jiu-ge!”

            “I’m fine,” he tried to dismiss weakly, standing tall only to feel the overwhelming shift of the world around him once more, careening into a side table, sending its display crashing down with him as he fell to his knees.

            “I’m here,” came Shen Yuan’s voice from somewhere far away. “Hey! I’m here! Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

            “I can’t,” Shen Jiu wheezed, feeling like a vise was tightening around his chest.

[Congratulations! External command connected! Rerouting data set. Please stand by for transmission!]

            “No!” Shen Jiu yelled as the crystalline face of the demon appeared to the side. “I don’t-“

[Host connection secured. Connection code <HOST OVERRIDE> activated.]

[Transmission override in 10…]

[9…]

            “It’s the body,” Shen Yuan whispered, his face falling. “It’s time…”

            “I don’t want to go,” Shen Jiu growled. “I’m not going!”

[8…]

            “Jiu-ge…”

            “I’m not leaving!” No being had ever truly been able to force Shen Jiu, and it wasn’t going to start now!

[7…]

            “Listen! Listen to me, alright?” Shen Jiu found his face held, a serious look on Shen Yuan’s face. “It’s going to be alright.”

            “I won’t leave you here,” Shen Jiu argued, twisting his fingers into the heavy brocade of the robe Shen Yuan wore over his clothes, tangling like talons. “I can’t… I don’t know how to do it without you.”

[6… ]

            “There is no without,” Shen Yuan said with a watery smile. “I’ll be here! I’ll be here, and I’ll be sending you my thoughts. But my part in the story is done, now. I did what I had to, but you still have things to finish up.”

            “No.” He shook his head, something like desperation crawling up his throat.

            “You do!” Shen Yuan shook him, sending pins and needles skittering about under his skin with the motion. “Yue Qingyuan still owes you an explanation, and Caing Qiong still needs a master strategist! The girls have info to pass along and there are still stupid men who need to get what they deserve, and silly disciples who need to be taught.”

[4…3…]

            “You still have a story to tell. So… Just live, please, Jiu-ge. Just live, and try to be better to Binghe, alright?” His own face stared back at him, but it was no longer his, the eons by Shen Yuan’s side forever changing the way he could see those features. The way there was a softness to those cold green eyes…

            “Yuan-di…” The darkness was slipping into the edges of his vision again, and it felt like the whole world was pressing down on his body, like he couldn’t even move a muscle in the encroaching darkness, held up only by Shen Yuan’s strong hold on his arms as they enveloped him in a crushing embrace. “You…”

[2…1…]

            “Just live, Shen Jiu,” Shen Yuan whispered in his ear. “Live, and try to be happy. I’m… I’m really glad that we were brothers, you know?”

[Transmission override completed. Thanking Host for his use of the System Databank!]

[Quest {{This is Our Get-Along House}} COMPLETE!]

[Goodbye.]

            The darkness swallowed him, just as the first of Shen Yuan’s tears began to dampen his collars. It pressed against him, heavier and heavier, until the sensation of weight merged with the sensation of wet and something slimy and bitter on the backs of his teeth.

            He flailed, as much as he could in the constriction, fighting against the midnight mask that surrounded him until at last the pressure seemed to break all at once, and he clawed his way to freedom.

            He retched, something thick and viscous pouring from his mouth with each heave, even as the heavy cascades of rain registered in his mind, lighting arching across a nighttime sky with the bone-rattling shake of thunder booming just a moment after.

            Mud squelched between his fingers, even as he fought to expel the thick coating within, his throat constricting as another flash illuminated the modest greenery around him.

            With one final push, the last of the muck dislodged itself, splattering thickly on the soaked earth, and with newly freed lungs, as the rain washed him of his new body’s cradle, just like a babe fresh to the world, witnessed only by the lightning above, Shen Jiu turned his face to the heavens…

            …and began to wail.

Chapter Text

            Yue Qingyuan startled awake as a bright, world-shaking peal of lighting and thunder ripped though the skies. It had been raining for days, the clouds above so tumultuous and thick that it seemed as though the very sun itself had fled from the might of the storm that ravaged the mountains. Even then, so long into its pelting downpour, the only light that came from the window was the flash of the storm itself, which felt terribly near at the peak of his sect.

            Another peal struck, resonating against the cage of his ribs, and Yue Qingyuan had to steady his breath at the sensation, his joints aching and his bones feeling like they were slowly winding around one another, pulling at ligaments and tendons long-warped from misuse.

            His body did not care for storms.

            Knowing any attempt to simply suffer through his discomforts would leave him tired and foul-mooded in the morning, he slipped from his bed and pulled on one of his thicker robes, padding out to the kitchen to pull out a tea set. He wasn’t particularly masterful at brewing, but he got on well enough for decorum, and his medicinal assortment required less finesse than the fine leaves he would serve to guests.

            As long as the leaves were hot enough to seep without scorching, it would do the job just fine, bitter as it was.

            The tincture was just about finished brewing when the night was disrupted once more, not by thunder, not by lightning, but by a sound that pulled at some point in Yue Qingyuan’s very soul.

            It was coming from the garden.

            His tea clattered on the floor, spilling everywhere as the cup rolled away under one of the cabinets, but he could not find the will to care. Not as he raced to the other side of the house, throwing the door wide in such a rush that it rebounded off the siding.

            He could not care for tea, nor the rain that fell in such heavy sheets that it instantly soaked his thin sleeping clothes and distorted his vision, when a being with jade skin and midnight hair clawed through the wreckage of his garden, crying out, its voice pained and garbled.

            He moved before thinking, rushing forward to clasp the hands that ripped through the roots that had grown them, only to be clawed, scratched, and bitten as he tried to calm the man before him, even as he struggled to escape.

            “Its me!” he cried over the chaos of the heavens. “Shen shidi, its me! You’re alright, its alright now! There is no danger!”

            “YUAN,” the man howled, trying to writhe out of Yue Qingyuan’s arms, his fingers clutching desperately at the plot from which he had risen. “Yuan! Yuan!”

            “Look at me,” Yue Qingyuan pleaded. “Please, shidi, look at me!”

            The man in his arms heaved another sob, his digging turning to pounding on the earth, turning to pounding against Yue Qingyuan’s chest. The first strike was surprisingly strong, but each one after decreased in might until it was nothing more than a weak beat against his sternum, and the man sagged forward, his head connecting with Yue Qingyuan’s before lolling off to his shoulder.

            Shuddering breaths painted his neck, a strange contradiction to the rain, as the fight seemed to leave him all at once.

            “Shen shidi?” Yue Qingyuan asked once more, his voice gentle, even as his chin smarted from the rough impact.

            “…”

            “Xiao Jiu?” Yue Qingyuan dared to ask, his voice cracking, even as his own tears blurred with the rain.

            Shen shidi’s nails dug into the meat of his wrist, tightening painfully.

            “Sorry,” the sect leader apologized, not sure if it meant that he was not Shen Jiu, or he simply did not wish to be called by the old endearment. “Here, you’re all wet.”

            Yue Qingyuan managed to shrug out of the heavier robe he’d just put on without letting go of the other, gingerly wrapping it around his bare shoulders. He allowed himself to look his Shen shidi over, noting that nothing seemed out of place save for the long, thick streaks of mud adorning his bare form. His robe was also already wet, but at least it was better than nothing.

            “Come inside,” he offered softly, gathering the other up into his arms properly as he rose, carrying him in a bridal hold as he turned back to the house. “It will be easy to pull a bath for you. We’ll get you cleaned up and dressed, and it will be better.”

            He settled Shen shidi in a chair, where he seemed content enough to drip muddy water on the floor and stare into the void, his long hair plastered over his face. Yue Qingyuan brushed it back, with a promise that he was not going far, and set about readying the water.

            It was a simple thing to fill the bath, and a quick stirring of qi left it gently steaming, and in no time at all, he was able to gingerly help Shen shidi over the lip of the tub, settling him in the water with no care that his sleep sleeves were getting drenched in the process.

            “It should have been Shen Yuan,” his shidi finally whispered, his hoarse voice ringing like another peal of thunder in the quiet.

            Yue Qingyuan sucked in a breath, faltering in his single-minded dedication to get the necessary accoutrements together.

            “You are dissatisfied with the outcome, I am sure,” Shen Jiu said woodenly.

            “I have two beloved Shen shidi,” Yue Qingyuan whispered into the room, fiddling with the washcloth he had procured from the linen cupboard before turning and setting the stack of bathing essentials on the table near the tub. “There was no outcome where I would not be overjoyed and aggrieved with every breath in equal measure.”

            “Get out,” Shen Jiu ordered, a sharp edge lancing through his voice once again as the storm raged. And then, somewhat softer, “I need to think.”

            “Of course, shidi,” Yue Qingyuan said. “I will get you something to wear. Please call if you need help with anything.”

            Yue Qingyuan was grateful he was able to keep himself somewhat composed as he slid the door to the washroom closed and managed to keep it until passed back through the kitchen on the way to his rooms, catching sight of his broken teacup and sagging against the wall to hold him through bittersweet tears.

***

            Shen Jiu languished in the bath, his mind racing in a million different directions, and somehow still only able to comprehend that he was there, and Shen Yuan was not.

            Shen Yuan… was not there. The plans that had been made for Shen Yuan’s return would ultimately amount to nothing, because Shen Jiu was the one who had slipped into the new vessel never meant for him.

            And he wasn’t quite sure what to do, now that he was here.

            Shen Yuan had once told him in great detail of how he had planned to slip away into the night- to the outer vestiges of civilization where no soul would recognize his face, with a new name. Where he would wander the world, fighting and cataloguing monsters, plants, and other bizarre oddities that caught his fancy to his heart’s content.

            For a long moment, Shen Jiu considered doing the same.

            Perhaps not a monster hunter? Perhaps… a musician. He could go from place to place, with a guqin. Earn his stays with his skills, and leave before he ever had the chance to get attached to something ever again. See the world, on his Yuan-di’s behalf.

            What was left for him anyway? He had never dared put too much hope in leaving that place, and then had outright wished to refuse it if it meant parting from his companion. His mirror image.

            He pondered as he dressed, a part of him twisting at the realization that he was donning his own robes- a predominantly white set with five layers, lovingly decorated with green bamboo leaves on the shoulders, and a delicate geometric pattern woven into the collars and hems.

            Shen Yuan once confided that they had been some of his favorites.

            He wasn’t really paying attention as Yue Qingyuan led him to a spare room, not even caring enough to pretend to focus on the sect leader was saying as he was gently guided to sit on the bed, and only pulled away when the other tried to sneak a line of qi through the wrist that he had passively allowed to be held.

            He was wearing Shen Yuan’s favorite robes. Wearing Shen Yuan’s vessel.

            “Get out,” he said again, his voice flat and dull as he interrupted whatever Yue Qingyuan was rambling about. “And do not think of calling Mu Qingfang.”

            Yue Qingyuan seemed to hover for a moment, before nodding somewhere in the corner of his vision and retreating like smoke.

            He wasn’t really sure how long he sat on the bed. He didn’t really remember eventually falling back, leaving his legs dangling off the side. The ceiling was strange and warped. Hmm. Oh… not warped by the wood, just by his eyes.

            He must have gotten a bit of mud in them earlier. He had been buried after all. Maybe he had lots of little bits of mud in his eyes, and that was why he couldn’t stop- he couldn’t stop…

            He hicc-ed softly as the tears fell.

            He was there, and what had once seemed like such a small, simple thing suddenly yawned wide enough to swallow the whole world.

            "Yuan-di?" he whispered into the void of the room. "Are you here with me?" He waited for what felt like ages, with no answer to his pleading question.

            Yuan was not there, or could not answer him if he was. Was he bound to the loneliness of Not-Qing Jing? Would he be ferried, as Shen Jiu had been to see the world, or was his role not permitted such liberties? How long had it taken Shen Jiu to figure out how to synchronize them? He couldn't remember anymore.

            “Gods,” he prayed without hope. “If you are real, do not subject him to such horrible emptiness without me there to break it.”

            Time passed. The storm seemed to rage without end, lightning flashing and thunder rolling, the shutters on the windows rattling as the wind heaved through the peak. Somewhere outside, he heard the trees groaning with the effort to remain tall, and the cacophony of those that failed.

            Eventually, the pitch blackness outside the window lightened to a gray, overcast morning.

            He did not get up. He did not answer when Yue Qingyuan knocked. He did not eat the food the sect leader brought him.

            “Get out,” he simply ordered in a quiet, dull voice.

            His mind continued to whirl. He did not care when it got dark again. Or light again. Or dark again. He had lived an age in a world where time was an illusion, and had ceased long ago to matter. Why should he care that it passed again now?

            On the fourth day though, he slowly, achingly sat up, feeling his hair shift and cling to itself and the bedclothes with a slightly sharper awareness.

            He was apart from Shen Yuan, it was true. And it hurt. It ached somewhere deep inside him, spreading up through his ribs like a poisonous vine, strangling him.

            He missed him. Gods above, he missed him. The stupidity, the chaos, the meaningless nothings. He would have been bullied to the vanity, his hair combed and braided, and teased into bed. He would have had something warm to hide behind that promised him some modicum of safety. He would have been nagged to entertain.

            Play go. Play music. Play games that made no sense.

            Watch Yuan smile. Feel pleased.

            The writing demon was quick to come, when called, as always, but left him gritting his teeth.

[Issue connecting to main multi-server: Host is currently designated to solo-questing! Host is encouraged to make decisions to advance the plot. Thank you for using the System! Goodbye.]

            “Useless demon,” he hissed, grabbing a small vase off the side table and hurling it into the wall.

            The shards glinted in the low light, the silver dulled by the weight of the clouds outside the window, stretching as far as the eye could see.

            It felt good.

            So he broke the other vase. And the glass casing for a nightpearl. And a jar filled with basic calligraphy brushes on the low table under the window.

            He eventually ran out of glass and porcelain, so he threw the table against the wall. He knocked over the dresser and pulled qi into his hand with the hope to crack the door clean off. He did not expect the flash to decimate the furniture completely. Shen Jiu blinked at the newly formed clump of splinters, and then down at his hands, before sending a searching thread within himself.

            Power welled up from his core like an ocean, vast and insurmountable as it spread through him in waves, one after the next, filling him to the brink and nearly overwhelming his senses before he managed to push it back down.

            Shen Jiu had never felt such a tidal wave before, even when his cultivation had been at its best. The form he had taken…

            Was that what all cultivators were meant to feel? Had he truly been so stunted before?

            “Shidi?” came the sudden panicked voice of the sect leader through the door. “Are you alright?”

            Shen Jiu hesitated for a moment before something in him snapped, and he stalked to the door, ripping it open.

            “Yue Qingyuan,” he said, not bothering to hide the wreckage of the room behind him. “Fly me to the bamboo house.”

***

            The rightful Lord of Qing Jing returned to his domain in silence, hidden in black Qiong Ding robes and secreted through the air on the second blade of the sect leader with all the fanfare of the wind. Few souls dared to brave the storm, and even fewer still were so bold as to attempt to fly in it, and so there was no one to see them leave or land.

            “I wish to be alone for a while,” Shen Jiu said, halfway leaping off the sword to the wood of the porch. “You may return in a little while.”

            “As you wish, shidi,” Yue Qingyuan answered, stepping off the blade himself and turning down to the cover of the forests. There was nowhere outside that was really truly dry after so many days of heavy rainfall, but he recalled there was a small pavilion set back into the wooded paths a fair bit that should only be slightly damp.

            He would wait there, just in case Shen Jiu needed him nearby.

            And he did, settling atop the stone table rather than on the ground, his legs crossed as he counted the time between the dying strikes of lightning and their rumble of thunder. His bones still ached, though not as severely after his tea that morning, as he was happy to see that the clouds seemed to be thinning.

            “System?” he eventually prompted once the rain seemed to slow to a simple patter rather than a gale. “What can you tell me about Shen Jiu right now?”

[Beep beep and Woof Woof!  (▼´ᴥ`▼) Companion Character ::YUE QINGYUAN:: is currently locked into solo-questing mode! Companion is encouraged to make choices to advance the plot!]

[Please note: Due to issues connecting to the multi-server, point buying is temporarily suspended. We apologize for the inconvenience. Please continue to work hard, and enjoy the camaraderie!]

            “Shen Yuan was right,” Yue Qingyuan sighed, looking back up to the thinning clouds. “You’re of no help when it doesn’t suit you.”

            The screen merely blinked a few dots at him for a moment before disappearing on its own.

            “Its been about an hour,” Yue Qingyuan thought to himself. “Perhaps now will be a good time. Worst case, he will tell me to leave again.”

            With his mind made up, the sect leader wound his way back through the trees, each step bringing him closer to the man he had missed for so many years.

            He couldn’t help but notice, as he broke from the trees to make the last stretch to the bamboo house, that the clouds directly overhead had broken, and a bright, shining ray of sunlight cut through the darkness to alight on the side of the house itself.

            “Even the sun has come to welcome Xiao Jiu home,” he smiled to himself as he ascended the steps.

            Xiao Jiu opened the door when he knocked, as though he had been waiting by it for just the occasion. And it was still definitely Xiao Jiu- his face was too carefully blank and his eyes too cold to be mistaken for Shen Yuan- where he had been blind with the first transfer, he could see the tells easily now.

            Even after so many days hiding the other in the side room of his home, Yue Qingyuan still felt as though it were all some fever dream, and his heart warred within his chest. How could he celebrate Xiao Jiu’s return when Shen Yuan was still gone? He had wished for this day for years, but sorrow still beat heavy in his core. Perhaps he was merely destined for heartbreak of one kind or another.

            “Come in,” Xiao Jiu said simply, stepping to the side. Yue Qingyuan obeyed, surprised to be so freely permitted.

            The bamboo house remained unchanged, Yue Qingyuan had persisted in his personal pursuit to keep it clean and orderly. But the man who occupied it now had been gone for several years, and traced his fingertips along the edges of his own abode, seemingly without total recognition, the traces of another man left lingering in familiar spaces.

            There was no tea, nor any snacks to settle on the receiving table. No music flitting on the air, or Shidi to cause a ruckus with wild songs or stories from another world. There was only the rain-scented breeze coming in through the window, it’s breath whispering through the strands of Xiao Jiu’s dark hair as he reacquainted himself with his home.

            “I want to ask you a question,” Xiao Jiu said suddenly, keeping his back to the other man.

            “Of course, Shidi,” Yue Qingyuan answered. “I am sure you have many.”

            Xiao Jiu began to tap the thumb of his right hand against the corresponding pinky- he was nervous. It was a tell Yue Qingyuan was sure he had suppressed a long time ago, but such instincts had yet to be ingrained in his new form, it seemed.

            “Zhangmen-shixiong,” Shen Jiu began, “This master, he wonders…Do you care about him?”

            “What?” Bewilderment flashed through his mind at such a question.

            “I asked,” Shen Jiu repeated with emphasis, “does zhangmen-shixiong care about this shidi? He said that no matter who claimed this body, he would be left to grieve the other. So, is this master to then believe that if Shen Yuan had taken it, zhangmen-shixiong would still have mourned me? Because you care?”

            “…of course I care about you.” Had he not made it so obvious through the years?

            “Then… because zhangmen-shixiong cares about me, he would wish for me to be happy, correct?”

            “It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you,” he admitted freely, dread settling quickly in his heart.

            “This one is sure zhangmen remembers that contentment’s desire for his shidi seems to be in short supply.” The younger man sighed, the stiffness in his shoulders seeming to lessen somewhat. “In order for this shidi to find happiness, he needs to know if he can trust in zhangmen-shixiong. And in order to know if he can trust you, we two must finish what has proven to be a very difficult conversation.” Shen Jiu paused for a moment. “Yue Qingyuan, I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer it honestly.”

            “...” His mouth froze, teeth locked together like two rows of stones left in a lake over winter. This… so soon after his return…

            Xiao Jiu took a deep breath, as though to steel himself. “Why? Why didn’t you come back to the Qiu manor for me?”

            Yue Qingyuan sucked in a sharp breath, his heart catching in his chest. “I’m sor-“

            “Don’t just say you’re sorry again!” Xiao Jiu interrupted, heat entering his voice once more. “That doesn’t mean anything!”

            “But I-“

            “I want an answer Yue Qingyuan! I know that you are sorry! That is all you have deigned to say about it for years, but the issue remains that it is not an answer!!” Xiao Jiu laughed mirthlessly. “I could choose to forgive you, you know? I am willing. But how will I know if you won’t even tell me?”

            “I do not deserve Xiao Jiu’s forgiveness.”

            “That is not for you to decide!” Shen Jiu finally turned to face him, anger flashing cold in his eyes as he advanced. “I get to decide. I am the one who was wronged. I am the one who was left to suffer. I have lived a whole life surrounded by people who thought they were free to make my choices for me, don’t you dare join them now, Yue Qingyuan. Don’t you dare take that away from me.” He took a shaky breath, face to face with Yue Qingyuan again at long last, incandescent in all his simmering rage, but for once Yue Qingyuan didn’t feel the fear of imminent immolation. Any burn was a worthy cost as long as it meant Xiao Jiu was near, and not just as a statue laying in the side room.

            “Answer the question, or do not.” Shen Jiu looked away again, an age-old bitterness crossing over his fine features. “But know that if you leave this house without giving me the truth, I will never be able to trust you again, and there will be no point in me staying here any longer.”

            “Xiao Jiu…”

            “Answer me. This will be your last chance. Why didn’t you keep the promise you made to me?”

            “…” Yue Qingyuan hung his head in shame, something ugly clawing its way through his chest. He didn’t deserve grace, and Xiao Jiu didn’t deserve to consort with someone so useless. But there was something heavy in the air, a finality that hung on the edge of a knife, ready to swing down and sever them forever. So, if he had to face such shame to keep this person… then he would tear his own face to shreds a thousand times if he had to.

            He may have relished in Xiao Jiu’s fire, but he had no desire to hurt the other man any more than he already had.

            “…this one was injured,” he finally whispered, barely able to make the words leave his lips at all as he stared at the floor.

            “…what?” Shen Jiu stepped into his space, crossing his gaze, his eyes searching.

            “I was foolish,” Yue Qingyuan continued, unable to raise his voice. “I wanted to go back and free you as soon as possible, so I pushed hard to progress. Harder than was wise. And when my teacher allowed me to choose a sword… I thought that if I… if I drew one that was powerful, it would help if the Qiu’s tried to stop us. So, I drew Xuan Su. And it is very powerful. It would have cut through them like parchment…”

            “…and…?” Xiao Jiu prodded, a strange, vulnerable look slowly finding a place in his eyes.

            “And I couldn’t control it,” Yue Qingyuan finally admitted. “It was fine, for a few moments, and then the backlash hit. It…when it…” He sighed, tears welling up and he had to turn his head away. Anything to escape the eyes of his most beloved person as he confessed his most shameful sin. “Shizun had to seal me in the spirit caves for over a year, waiting to see if my body would be able to recover, and if it did, if I would stay sane afterwards. I left as soon as they let me out.” He chuckled wetly, feeling disgusting. “I hardly even bothered to change my clothes at the entrance. But… when I got there… the manor had been burned down.”

            Yue Qingyuan could feel his control slipping alongside the single tear that managed to drip off his chin. “I asked around, and they said the young mistress was the only who made it out alive, and that aside from her brother’s, all the corpses had been servants, so they were buried in a mass grave the morning before.”

            There was a beat of silence.

            “I didn’t find you, Xiao Jiu, because I thought you were dead. I let myself doubt your strength and thought I was too late to help you. When I heard people screaming at the Alliance Conference that year, I went towards them hoping that whatever I found there would be enough for us to reunite. And then, we did, in a way that I… that I had ceased to dream was possible,” Yue Qingyuan finished, his tears falling freely at last.

            “…stay here,” Shen Jiu said after a long pause, turning to move out towards the door to his bedroom.

            “Xiao Jiu-“

            “I said stay, Yue Qingyuan! I need to think, and I can’t look at you right now.”

            The door slammed shut behind the peak lord, the force enough to topple one of the fans displayed on a shelf in the main room.

            Yue Qingyuan stayed, shame shredding through him. This would be it- he was surely to be cast away for good for such failure.

            After a few minutes that felt like years, Shen Jiu returned, a snarl on his face, and he seemed as though he would eviscerate him, only to snap his teeth shut and whirl back out through the door.

            Yue Qingyuan stayed. Surely, the last gift he could give was to let Xiao Jiu properly dismiss him from his life forever.

            He could hear yelling, raw and straining and angry, and the sounds of something in the other room being broken. And then silence. He stayed, rooted in place, even as the sky began to sink towards the horizon, and shadows began to fill the bamboo house.

            Shen Jiu returned again, his hems creased and the traces of tears on his face.

            “Yue Qi is an idiot!” he snarled, right as he charged straight up to him and started smacking his chest. “All these years, and he let me be mad at him for nothing! Why wouldn’t you just tell me! We could have had all this time!!”

            “Xiao Jiu?” Hope bloomed in his chest at the address.

            “I thought you didn’t want me!” The statement rung in Yue Qingyuan’s ears. “I thought that you were ashamed of me, so you left me behind. That you only brought me here because you felt indebted to your past after I stabbed Wu Yanzi for you.”

            “I would never be ashamed to know Xiao Jiu,” Yue Qingyuan answered, haltingly returning a sudden embrace, dumbly wondering if he had nodded off standing and found himself in a dream. “I brought you here so we could be together, I tried to give you gifts to say sorry, but you didn’t want them. So I just kept trying to make you happy.”

            “I thought you were buying my silence! Giving me gifts to bribe me to not speak of your past or the murder to the other lords. Why would I want that?!”

            “Xiao Jiu, I wouldn’t ever be ashamed to have been saved by you,” Yue Qingyuan pulled back slightly, hoping to meet the other’s gaze, but he stubbornly kept it hidden in the shoulder of Yue Qingyuan’s robes. “Besides, I’ve known them long enough to give them my trust. The only reason I said nothing from the start was because I didn’t have your permission to share it. Not that it wholly worked, Mu Qingfang definitely already suspects something, I’m sure.”

            “Mu Qingfang can mind his own business,” Shen Jiu grumbled. “Our past is ours. He doesn’t need to be poking around in it.”

            Yue Qingyuan couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from inside him, earning him a smack and a scowl.

            “Don’t laugh at me!” his shidi demanded.

            “I’m not, I’m not!” he promised. “It is only… that I have missed Xiao Jiu so greatly. It brings me joy to hear you speak again.”

            Shen Jiu grimaced, pulling away to sit at the tea table. “Please, don’t call me that.”

            “… does the memory truly displease you so?” Yue Qingyuan could feel his spirits fall.

            “The memories of you are fine, now,” Shen Jiu dismissed. “But… Yue Qi is not the only one to have called me by such a name. It is memories of that one who I would rather forget, and he has ruined it for anyone else, even you.”

            “I see,” Yue Qi answered, a sorrow settling over him. How often had he called that name, hoping it would be the time the ice finally gave way? “I am sorry. I did not mean to bring you discomfort.”

            “Just don’t do it again,” came the dismissal, shocking its recipient with the ease of it. Where was the venom? The vitriol? Was this truly so simple a thing?

            “If you must have some sickly sort of endearment, find a different one,” Shen Jiu continued, tracing the edges of the table with his fingertips. “And if I tell you to stop, you will.”

            “Yes, shidi,” Yue Qingyuan agreed.

            “… let’s go back,” the Qing Jing lord sighed after a long moment of silence. “It is late, and there is too much of Yuan here. I can’t think through it all.”

            “You are more than welcome to stay with me until you feel ready for other arrangements,” Yue Qingyuan offered, removing his auxiliary sword for the flight. “When will you announce your return?”

            “I’m pondering that myself,” Shen Qingqiu demurred, stepping up onto the blade with no resistance. “I must reflect before I make any brash decisions.”

            The flight back was quick, and much easier as the storm that had ravaged the mountains finally broke down and began to disperse. Yue Qingyuan flew quickly, still, to avoid the chance of anyone identifying who exactly was with him.

            It wasn’t until they were shaking off the last of the drizzle in the front room that Yue Qingyuan remembered that he had received an answer from Shang Qinghua that morning, with a promise of swift return to assist in the situation.

            “Yue-bro?” came the call from the receiving room and the sect leader’s gaze cut to his other shidi as he abruptly stilled. “Dude I was wondering where you went. I was just about to dip out, man.”

            “Now I know you might be-!” Yue Qingyuan trailed off as Shen Jiu took off down the hall rounding the door frame to where the An Ding lord was getting up from the table.

            The two locked gazes and for a beat there was silence.

            The Shen Jiu pounced.

            “Shen shixiong! Mercy! Dude! Fuck, which one are you!”

            “I’m the one who’s going to kill you!”

            “Qingqiu!” Yue Qingyuan said, prying him off.

            “Let me go!” Shen Jiu demanded, shaking him off and flicking out the black sleeves of the borrowed Qiong Ding robes he wore. “I’m fine. I’m collected.”

            “Damn dude,” Shang Qinghua said, straitening before his words changed to the foreign tongue Shen Yuan had only ever explained was from their home plane. “Hu maed ju sou aengri?”

            Shen Jiu flashed a sharp smile, whirling over with a speed Yue Qingyuan wasn’t prepared to intercept to land a solid punch directly to the other lord’s solar plexus. “Ju did, ju mizerebel litel ker!”

            “Qingqiu!” Yue Qi yelled again.

            “I’m done,” Shen Jiu declared, flicking his hair over his shoulder as he watched the other man crumble to the ground with a low keening sound. “That was for our childhood.”

            And with that, Shen Jiu swept out to the side room, leaving the other two gaping after him.

Chapter Text

            Shen Jiu had always been quiet when he was thinking on something. Yue Qingyuan remembered that in their youths, when he had not needed to raise his voice to cry for coins or fight off other children, he had found Shen Jiu to be unnervingly silent, communing only through sharp eyes and a downturned mouth.

            Now, so many years past the begging and alleyways of violence, he watched, discomforted, as Shen Jiu seemed to retreat inside himself once more. The ruins of the side room were easily disposed of, and the new resident would perch in the center of the now-open floor to meditate for hours on end.

            Or, in a new turn of events, sift through the garden.

            “What are you doing out here?” the sect leader hazard to ask, stepping out with a tray of tea and settling down at the low table he would work at while watching over the mushroom body.

            “I am thinking,” Shen Jiu answered quietly, sitting with his knees up under his chin as he flicked through the last remains of the mycelium roots, now thin and withered after such a long while without direction.

            “Would you like some tea, while you think?”

            “Mm.” Shen Jiu studied the clump of white, spongy root in his hand, twisting it back and forth in the afternoon sun before tossing it back into the shallow hole. “Why not?”

            Yue Qingyuan poured, passing the tea over and chuckling as Shen Jiu took a sip with a grimace. “I must apologize, shidi. I remain, at best, mediocre in the art of teas.”

            “It is not so bad as I remember,” Shen Jiu said, looking away towards the plot. “…how long was I buried here?”

            Yue Qingyuan hummed, pondering for a moment. “The body was transplanted here in secret a few months after Shen Yuan’s departure. So… just short of five years.”

            Shen Jiu spluttered into his tea, a fit of coughing overtaking him even as he bat the leader’s worried hands away. “Five YEARS?!”

            “Yes,” he acknowledged with a solemn nod. “I have kept careful eye over it, with the help of Shang shidi, as we anxiously awaited the awakening.”

            “And if I had not awakened? If neither of us had?”

            “I would have looked over it until it rotted in the earth,” Yue Qingyuan found himself admitting earnestly. “And then I would have found a way to make another. As many times as I would have to until you returned, or I vanished from this world.”

            Something seemed to flash over Shen Jiu’s face, his head whipping back around to stare out at the greenery before Yue Qingyuan could parse what it was.

            “Idiot,” the second peak lord muttered into his tea.

            Yue Qingyuan couldn’t help but smile.

***

            Shen Jiu, much to his chagrin, was all too aware of his own tumbling thoughts, even as he tried to meditate through the still of the night. He had been on Qiong Ding for over two weeks now, each night spent resisting sleep as long as he could to avoid the cold void space of the bed.

            He could not even watch the stars from the way his room’s window faced out into the trees.

            So, he attempted to meditate. This new body of his was overflowing with power, to the point he could not even sense the end of it, but he was unused to controlling such torrential waves. In the quiet of the night, he fought for command, much like he had once fought to control qi locks on Shen Yuan’s physical form. His ability to direct the ebb and flow of it all was progressing- not yet to the point that he felt he could stand against another cultivator and not accidentally crush them to bits, though.

            The power of the sun and dew seeds were truly something to behold.

            With a heavy breath, Shen Jiu gave up the pretense of meditation, flopping back inelegantly onto the floor. Who was there to witness the disgrace anyway?

            “Yuan-di?” he cautiously whispered into the silence, something in his chest feeling tight. “Are you there?”

            Every night he asked, and every night he received no answer. Even as his heart clenched at the lack of response, he fought the urge to let despair take over his thoughts. Shen Yuan had proclaimed them brothers, and had willingly sacrificed for him to be permitted another chance at life. If Shen Yuan were still suspended in that other place, there was no doubt in Shen Jiu’s mind that he would be working to find a way for them to communicate.

            He was too sticky to be up to anything else.

            Still, the yawning maw of the guest bed did little to appeal to Shen Jiu, and he had decided on the very first chance that he would not wander the peaks without reason, even in the small hours when no one should be around to see him.

            He hadn’t decided to announce his return, yet. And to have it discovered before he was ready could throw quite a tangle into his still-formulating plan.

            With his own bed having no sway, and the outdoors strictly off limits, Shen Jiu sat up abruptly, coming to a decision and setting about preparing quickly, lest he change his mind part way through the commitment.

            Yue Qingyuan had made sure he had the necessary basics. An unfamiliar comb ran diligently through his long, dark strands of hair, and Shen Jiu swallowed the knot in his throat as he once again had to twist it back into a sleeping braid alone. The soft hues of Qing Jing green were traded for a basic set of soft, pale white, and Shen Jiu slipped the door open, padding on silent, socked feet out into the hallway.

            He had made every effort to avoid Yue Qingyuan’s house once they became lords, but now its paths were etching into his mind after days of repetition. He knew where the gardens were, and the kitchen, and the study, and the house office. The nooks and crannies and little hidden divots.

            There was only one room in which Shen Jiu had never set hide nor hair.

            Yue Qingyuan’s bedroom door was plain and unassuming. Its edges bore no filigree, nor did etches adorn its center or the touch plate. Even the touch plate itself was nothing special, hardly more than a slice of treated wood for fingers to gain traction on. Now that he thought about it… weren’t all the doors crafted similarly?

            He was going to make new ones, Shen Jiu decided somewhere in the back of his mind as he quietly slid the door open. The other doors could get away with a little bit of filigree, but for this one… hm… Maybe something with cedar, to match the forest surrounding the house? It would be poetic.

            “Hng?” came a quiet sound from the shadows, and Shen Jiu felt his breath catch slightly as he remembered the original task.

            The room was large, with its own small sitting area and a raised dais on the back wall, cordoned off by a fine wooden archway, where thin beams of clouded moonlight cut through the darkness to alight on the half-sleeping face of the sect leader where he sluggishly raised his head from the pillow.

            Like moving through water, Shen Jiu slowly made his way through the room, looking around at all the sparsity. There was the bare level of furniture acceptable for someone of his station, and a few books on a shelf that sat mostly empty. Nothing of note hung on the walls aside from a perfunctory looking painting of the twelve peaks. The room was undeniably beautiful, but… stiff. Impersonal.

            Yue Qingyuan clearly had terrible taste in decorations. Shen Jiu would make him several things, then. New touch plates for all his doors. And, perhaps, some paintings to give the space a bit more life.

            He could do a scene from Ningjing Orchard, perhaps? A quiet nod to their past years from the one stop they’d made back to Cang Qiong after their fateful reunion, where regret and anger had not yet wholly poisoned their connection. Surely Yue Qingyuan would remember it as well as Shen Jiu did?

            “…move over,” Shen Jiu whispered as he crossed the arch into the back third of the room and ascended the few steps to the bed, something in him loathe to disrupt the quiet.  

            “Hm?” Yue Qingyuan questioned, even as he allowed Shen Jiu to tug him closer to the edge of the bed, tensing only once the other man began his effort to crawl over him to the back half.

            “Qingqiu?” Yue Qingyuan asked, his voice odd.

            “Not that,” Shen Jiu whispered as he settled, jabbing at the sect leader’s shoulder until he dutifully turned on his side to face out. “Not here.” He curled one arm close to his chest, looping the other around the torso in front of him, and buried himself between the shoulders shielding him from the world.

            “I’m not used to sleeping alone anymore,” he whispered after a few moments.

            “Shidi…”

            “Go to sleep, Yue Qi. I’m tired.”

            He chose to ignore the feeling that settled over him as a hand slowly encased his own over Yue Qi’s lapels, a calloused thumb rubbing soothing circles over his wrist. Even if it pulled at something long neglected, yearning for freedom in the quiet night of reconciliation, Yue Qi didn’t need to know about it.

***

            Yue Qingyuan woke to moonlight slanting through his bedroom, and cold sheets bared behind him.

            For three nights, Shen Jiu had waited until the haunting hours settled in, and then had appeared in the doorway to his private chambers like a ghost, gliding in almost soundlessly before crawling over his body to nestle into his bed. And for three nights, Yue Qingyuan would pretend to sleep until the breath that danced over his spine leveled out into the tell-tale rhythm of slumber before he was able to relax enough to join in the rest.

            His bed companion was always gone by dawn, and it seemed an unspoken rule to not speak of it during the daytime.

            Shen Jiu did not frighten him, nor did he find the company displeasing. It was just… unexpected. And he wondered if there was a test hiding somewhere- something he had to puzzle out. Shen Jiu had often staged such things during their many years of misunderstandings, meant to catch Yue Qingyuan up and stumble, although he had never been able to decern into what.

            The truth, most likely, now that he thought about it again.

            Regardless, the bed, which had happily contained two sleeping lords, now only harbored one, and the moon cut through the room in far too great of swaths to be from the windows alone.

            Gingerly, Yue Qingyuan slipped from the bed, stepping down from the dais and through the privacy arch. There was a door on the other side, which let out to his private balcony, warded and sealed with enough power to stop a ruling demon in its tracks, and spelled to look empty from the outside.

            It was not empty now.

            Shen Jiu stood with his forearms on the railing, his hair half loose from its braid after sleeping, with the shorter front strands dancing softly in the midnight breeze. His face angled up to catch the light of the moon, almost perfectly full, crowned in a halo of nebulous stars as they spilled amid the heavens. One of Yue Qingyuan’s outer robes hung loosely from his shoulders, slipping off one side to gather in the crook of his arm, the black striking against the white of his sleeping garb.

            Yue Qingyuan found himself unable to do so much as breathe as he was bowled over with the realization that Shen Jiu was beautiful in the moonlight.

            “Shen Yuan and I used to watch the stars together,” Shen Jiu suddenly said, looking over his shoulder to where Yue Qingyuan had frozen with a hand on the doorframe. “It would settle my nerves, and he would finally shut up about his latest ramblings.” He looked back to the sky. “The view never changed though. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the moon like this, I almost forgot how beautiful it was.”

            “It will be properly full tomorrow night,” he found himself saying, taking the few short strides to join the other at the railing. “On such nights… I often found myself thinking of you, from back then.”

            The statement wasn’t wholly true. He often thought about Shen Jiu on most nights- when the moon waxed full, his thoughts turned to near obsession. He would pour tea in later years, as a silent reminder of his failures and the things his inadequacy had ruined. A silent wish for a shidi who despised him to allow him another chance.

            “Mm,” Shen Jiu hummed in response, his own thoughts clearly wandering the subject. “It will be lovely.”

            Yue Qingyuan watched him as he returned to admiring the sky, an ache settling somewhere deep in his chest the longer he took in the visage before him.

            “Is there something on my face?” Shen Jiu’s slightly acerbic tone jolted the sect leader from his thoughts, and he rapidly turned away to look out into the trees and hope the moonlight would cast enough pallor to hide the blush racing over his face.

            “No,” he said, swallowing thickly. “This one… was just admiring.”

            “…oh,” came the soft response.

            “Shidi has always been exemplary,” his voice ran away, and Yue Qingyuan could feel himself begin to shrivel up and die on the inside. What a tactless compliment! What was he doing?!

            “Don’t be ridiculous,” Shen Jiu snapped before his voice softened, and the wood creaked quietly as he shifted ever so slightly closer. “Even if this one weren’t bedraggled, it is well known that Zhangmen shixiong is considered far fairer to behold.”

            Yue Qingyuan suddenly found the graining on the wood of the railing to be very interesting, and had that rock by the reflection pool always been that shape? Suddenly, he remembered the words of the first letter he had read from the hidden compartment under the floors of the bamboo house, and his face flushed even further as they echoed in his mind.

            “Return to me,” it had said in the beautiful, flowing script of the Qing Jing lord. “Return, and I will be yours without reservation or resistance.”

            “Shen shidi…” he said softly, not daring to look at the other again. “…there is another confession this one must make, if you will permit it.”

            The warmth by his side seemed to chill suddenly as Shen Jiu stepped back once more. “And what might that be?”

            Yue Qingyuan took a steadying breath, straightening tall as he gazed out into the woods. “While both of this shixiong’s shidi were away, he elected to assign himself to the upkeep of their home, when available. During one such visit… this shixiong spilled his papers, and as he was gathering them… he discovered a compartment under the dresser.”

            He could feel the moment Shen Jiu tensed as the meaning of the words hit him.

            “I recognized that it was an invasion of Shen shidi’s privacy, but… I saw my name amid the papers and could not will myself to leave them unseen. This shixiong did not ever go searching for any other secrets and will do all that he can to restore any broken trust this revelation might have caused.”

            “You!” Shen Jiu hissed, batting at his arm with a sleeve and a snarl. “Those weren’t-! You-!”

            Yue Qingyuan felt his heart go cold as an expression crossed over his shidi’s face, a furrow to his brow and a small, unpleasant tremble to his lips.

            “Forget it all,” Shen Jiu ordered, turning away. “Zhangmen shixiong is under no obligation for the content of those words.”

            “I will not,” he defended, reaching out to catch the other by the sleeve as he made to flee. “Those words were the only thing that saved this broken man in the years he was without you.”

            “How many did you read?” Shen Jiu demanded.

            “All of them,” he confessed, managing to get both of Shen Jiu’s hands in his, gently pulling him back towards the railing. “And I harbor no ill will for any of them.”

            “The things I wished upon you were vile.”

            “And for a man who believed himself cast aside, I do not fault you for wishing them.”

            “How could you say such a thing?” Shen Jiu asked, ripping his hands free and turning back to the railing, his face turned so it could be seen by neither Yue Qingyuan or the moon.

            “Because only people who love fiercely can hate so deeply,” Yue Qingyuan answered simply. “And they were not all so cruel or angry. Some were quite lovely, even.”

            “Do not patronize me,” the other man said, though the anger in his voice seemed to be mostly banked. “…I could not take it if you were to think less of me for daring to have such stupid…” The second lord waved a hand, trailing off.

            “There is nothing in this world that would make me think less of you,” Yue Qingyuan said, stepping closer. “I would not have mentioned it at all, save for the fact that I want there to be no more secrets between us. Those words, of hurt or kindness, were clearly very personal to you.”

            Shen Jiu huffed, but did not try to flee again as he came up behind him.

            “Those words you wrote, the kinder ones…” Yue Qingyuan felt as though there was a flock of seven-tailed semper butterflies winging through his insides, and shocks of static zapping through his fingertips as he hesitantly reached out to touch Shen Jiu’s arm. “Do you still feel that way?”

            “You ask me to remember what nonsense I scrawled in the middle of the night over a decade ago?” Shen Jiu asked, finally turning to look at him with a sense of annoyance. “How am I supposed to know what it said?”

            “It is my wish,” Yue Qingyuan quoted, “that you may be more than just a stranger made from memory.”

            “Stop,” Shen Jiu said, quickly turning away again and bringing up an oversized sleeve to hide his face. “I… What do you want me to say? That I missed you? That I wanted us to go back to friendship? That I lov-…” He cut himself off suddenly, tapping the thumb and pinkie of his right hand together as he stared off into the distance.

            “If you were brave enough to say it,” Yue Qingyuan whispered hoarsely, standing flush with the slightly shorter man as the moon and the breeze carried on around them. “I might be brave enough to say it too. But only if you still want it.”

            He could hear the small gulp the other made and dared to rest the fingertips of one hand against the back of Shen Jiu’s shoulder.

            “I loved you,” came the confession, so quietly he almost missed it. “In spite of it all…I still loved you.”

            “And now?” He turned his head, gently nosing along the short, breeze-swept strands of Shen Jiu’s bangs, feeling that tightness in his core coil ever tighter.

            “Now… now it is your turn,” Shen Jiu said, standing still. “What will you do with this knowledge?”

            “What do you wish for me to do?”

            “I wish for you to actually take initiative for once instead of waiting to see what I- mmph!”

            The slightly acidic words abruptly cut off as the coil in his chest suddenly snapped, and Yue Qingyuan’s brain took its sweet time to catch up with the fact that he had a gentle hand on Shen Jiu’s jaw, their lips delicately slotted together as he kissed him.

            “I’m sorry,” he whispered once they finally had to break for air. “I should have asked first.”

            “Shut up,” Shen Jiu ordered, and then the air was gone again, stolen by the sting of teeth on his lips and slender fingers coiled in his hair.

            Yue Qingyuan worried that it would be clear to see his own inexperience- all he knew about such things were stolen from the pages of the few books he had read as a youth to distract himself from other, more important work. But if it was obvious, Shen Jiu didn’t seem to mind, tugging on his hair even as he let Yue Qingyuan corral him against the railing, clutching at him from his stolen outer robe.

            “You are so beautiful,” Yue Qingyuan managed to gasp in a breath between kisses.

            “You are a fool,” came the response, the words soft in spite of their insult.

            “I would be your fool,” he whispered against a pale bit of flesh hidden behind the curve of the other’s jaw.

            “As though I would permit you to be anyone else’s,” Shen Jiu gasped as the other nipped, the scholar’s hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair grasping at the railing as though he might fall.

            “A-Jiu,” Yue Qingyuan tried calling, and smiled as he was suddenly redirected back into a proper, vicious lip lock.

            “I am tired of waiting.” With a halfhearted shove from the scholar, they were slowly fumbling their way back towards the door. “Are you mine?”

            “I have always been yours,” he said without reservation. “I always will be.”

            “Show me.”

***

            The next morning, Yue Qingyuan woke contentedly, with a bare arm around his middle, and breath ghosting evenly across his chest, A-Jiu sleeping soundly in his arms.

           There was light in his chest, shining brighter and more joyfully than even that of the rising sun.

Chapter Text

            A-Jiu was quiet for several days, seemingly lost in his thoughts from the moment he would wake in Yue Qingyuan’s arms to the moment he would direct the sect leader to sit at his vanity so he could braid their hair for sleep.

            Yue Qingyuan’s openings for affection were never rebuffed, but A-Jiu didn’t respond as he had that first moon-touched union, content to chastely kiss and cuddle, but never more. He often laid his head on Yue Qingyuan’s chest in the night, listening to his heartbeat and drawing nonsense shapes across his torso as he stared off into the middle distance, the cogs of his mind clearly turning his attentions elsewhere.

            Yue Qingyuan tried to not take it too personally. Perhaps he hadn’t done as good of a job ensuring his partner’s enjoyment of the activity? Maybe he had done something wrong? They were both ill-informed in the ways of mutual pleasure, after all… But A-Jiu had claimed his contentment, so maybe it was something else entirely. The little blue spirit did nothing to help him, simply repeating that assistance was not available at the moment, and that he was encouraged to “enjoy a solo experience”, whatever that meant.

            He missed having Shen Yuan to explain the nuances to him. Part of him wanted to ask more about the brief explanation he had been given regarding the switch between the two Shens, but Shen Jiu seemed distant in this thoughts whenever something connected to Shen Yuan caught his eye. Yue Qingyuan would hate to make his sorrows worse by asking for further reflections.

            His secondary thought gained credence after the third day of A-Jiu sitting in his home office with a cooling cup of tea held in his hands like it held the secrets of the whole universe. He had once again slipped away in the dark, thin hours of the morning to handle something on Qing Jing, slipping through the sect dressed in Qiong Ding robes and a veil, when no souls dared roam, and returning silently with a pensive air on the cusp of dawn, clearly deep in his considerations of something.

            “I need to get into Ku Xing’s restricted library,” A-Jiu suddenly said, setting the cup down. “But Gao-shidi cannot know that it is me. There are too many gossips in Cang Qiong, and Luo Binghe must not get wind of my return.”

            Yue Qingyuan paused in his review of Chuang Zao’s latest artifact material request, his gaze flicking up to the other man. “May Qi-ge know what it is you need? I can send for it.”

            A-Jiu shook his head. “It is… I do not know where to start looking for the information I need. I have an idea about something, but I wish to perform my own research into its validity before I share my thoughts. It would not do to speak of it before knowing it’s true possibility. If it bears fruit, I will need access to Zhi Ji’s inner texts as well.”

            “Perhaps a disguise or concealment, then,” Yue Qingyuan said with a small nod, returning to the papers on his desk. “Leave it to me, and I will go with you and claim you are my guest working on an important matter for the sect.”

            “Zhangmen-shixiong does not hesitate to indulge this shidi’s flights of fancy without so much as a question. How foolish.” The words might have been harsh, if not for the softness hiding underneath.

            “This one knows that A-Jiu does not ask for favors lightly,” Yue Qingyuan said simply. “If it important enough for him to ask, then it is important enough for this Qi-ge to grant.”

            “Just like that?” A-Jiu asked, that strange, soft look hidden in his sharp eyes once again.

            “Just like that,” Yue Qingyuan agreed.

***

            That night, A-Jiu showed great enthusiasm for Yue Qingyuan’s affections. He made a mental note of it for his own personal reflection.

***

            In the end, they settled on a veil and a set of traveler’s robes in shades of black, tan, olive, and white, discreetly sourced by Shang Qinghua. (A-Jiu seemed content to act as though the clothes had spun themselves into existence right there in the hallway with how he pointedly ignored the other peak lord after the initial dance of threats. It was still better than the bloodletting Yue Qingyuan had feared would occur.) The clothes themselves were still made of quite fine cloth, with subtle threads of gold woven throughout the hems of the tan overlay piece and dark arm guards. Dark gloves smoothly transitioned to the bulk of his bracers, and hid even the slightest trace of skin.

             A-Jiu had wanted to go entirely non-descript, but if Yue Qingyuan was to introduce him as a high-ranking guest, he was insistent that A-Jiu allow him to present a few small, but effective notes of position into the disguise. A fine belt, and a silver tassel with a matching shoulder pin served to take the look and give it a quiet sense of power.

            Yue Qingyuan helped his lover dress, and took his own comb in hand, taking the time to weave an intricate set of braids up the back of his A-Jiu’s head, securing the extra length in a braided tail, and carefully produced a dark scarf that matched the innermost collar to help hide the contours of his face, before he placed the final piece of their obfuscation on top of his masterpiece.

            With the dark brim of the weimao hat angled low to help hide his eyes, and the fine, gossamer veil hanging down to his shoulders making his face more of a suggestion than a fact, even Yue Qingyuan found it difficult to see the traces of A-Jiu that remained. The small, weighted tassels on the corners helped to ensure the veil would not accidentally lift, even in sword flight, and Shen Jiu hummed as he gave it an experimental swish.

            Xiu Ya was hidden within a qainkun pocket built into the robes, and they had agreed to leave the fan behind in lieu of the veil. A-Jiu adjusted his stance, angling his shoulders slightly differently and letting his weight shift to one side, and like a flash, Shen Qingqiu was gone.

            Yue Qingyuan fussed over the asymmetrical olive and white sleeves one last time before taking a step back. He nodded, it was as good as they were going to get on such short preparation, (and rather well crafted even then), and each day that A-Jiu had to wait, he grew ever more restless.

            “One last time,” A-Jiu said, flicking out his mismatched sleeves before clasping his hands in front of him in a mockery of meditative pose, a set of wooden mantra beads looped over his gloved fingers. “What is my name?”

            “Fangbei,” Yue Qingyuan answered, taking a last moment to ensure his own presentation was beyond reproach. “Wu Fangbei, and independent cultivator from the northern borderlands.”

            “Why have I come?”

            “That is a delicate matter for the sect that I am tending to personally. Please, allow my Shidimen to assist you in your efforts.”

            “Why do I hide my face?”

            “Life in the borderlands is difficult. We met when you were tragically injured on a night hunt when you were younger, and you wear a veil to spare others from the discomfort of your scars. It is also why you do not speak above a whisper, and prefer the use of your hands- your voice was damaged in the altercation. I will be remaining with you for the ease and comfort of both parties, as someone who is familiar with you and your assistance needs.”

            “Good,” A-Jiu- Wu Fangbei- praised with a nod. Yue Qingyuan’s heart did something in his chest. “Let us be off, then. This one is eager to begin.”

***

            He had always known that his A-Jiu had the heart of a scholar, even when they had been dirt-strained little ghosts haunting the side of the street corners for spare coins. He asked questions- deep questions, terrible questions, questions that would drive lesser men mad, at times. A boy who’s thirst for knowledge had only ever been matched by his hatred for the world, and who had grown both as he progressed through the ranks of the cultivation world, until even the second seat of Heaven had called for him to study under their personal administrations.

            He had always known that A-Jiu had the heart of a scholar, but he had never gotten to see it so intimately before.

            Under the guise of Wu Fangbei, they entered the forbidden libraries of Ku Xing, A-Jiu quickly leaving Yue Qingyuan to his task of distracting and deflecting the well-meaning and suspicious members of Gao Qinggao’s peak unilaterally, while the man himself began his quest through the shelves of talisman techniques. The table he claimed in the corner had more and more books and scrolls laid out every time Yue Qingyuan looked over, the man turning through them like the wind, making notes in the small booklet he brought with him.

            They had arrived midway through the morning, and stayed until A-Jiu’s veil danced in the light of the nightpearls set along the walls before they made an exit with a promised plan to be back the next day. Even then, A-Jiu did not deign to be embraced by Yue Qingyuan that night, staying up at the table in the corner of the room with a dimmed nightpearl to read and reread his notes, making annotations and sketches of something among the many loose sheets of parchment around him as he muttered softly to himself.

            It went on for a week before his attention turned to Zhi Ji, where Lin Qingshui had clearly heard tales of the veiled ghost that had been haunting and harassing the talisman peak’s library.

            “Zhangmen-shixiong,” his shidi said skeptically as they watched Wu Fangbei begin his conquest of the library. “You know that if you required the assistance of a divinationist, you could have come to me personally.”

            “It is a delicate matter that I felt needed to be handled personally,” Yue Qingyuan dutifully recited. “It is not a question of Lin-Shidi’s skills. Wu-qianbei has a specific thread he wished to investigate with regards to his personal experiences in the matter. Please, this Shixiong would request Lin-Shidi be understanding and forgive him of any unintended offense.” He bowed slightly, genuinely hoping that the peak lord wouldn’t take too much insult at the obfuscation.

            “His aura is strange,” Lin Qingshui said, turning to step away. “It is this humble shidi’s hope that Zhangmen-Shixiong will see fit to share his guest at a later date, so we may discuss our theories, if he is truly as prolific as he seems.”

            “I will offer the invitation on your behalf,” Yue Qingyuan answered with a smile. If only his Shidi knew that the man under the veil was one who had been spoken with many times! “Thanking Lin-Shidi for the hospitality to this one’s guest.”

***

            All in all, his A-Jiu spent a week and a half pouring over tomes and scrolls from sunrise to sunset, and working through the night. Yue Qingyuan would often wake to find him half asleep with his head pillowed on his arms, his notes stacked orderly as though he had only just set his head down to rest.

            But in the end, there was one more surprise.

            “I was not expecting to get called in like this,” Shang Qinghua said, whispering his nervous tittering to Yue Qingyuan as Shen Qingqiu got his notes from the bedroom in order. “Do you think this is the part where he kills me? My king will not be enthused if I come home in separate pieces, bro.”

            “It is not my intention to kill you,” A-Jiu said, elegantly kneeling at the table, with the two other lords on either side. “Yet.” Shang Qinghua squeaked. “I have been working on a conceptualization, and have come to a decision.”

            “Your research as given the idea merit, then?” Yue Qingyuan asked. He hadn’t pried, it was clear A-Jiu hadn’t been willing to discuss it yet, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been burning with curiosity.

            “In theory, yes. If it is to be a success, we will likely have to involve other members of the sect, at least in part. But as it stands, here is my general intention and interpretation.” He slid a large piece of parchment to the center of the table, whereupon a large, complex circular array had been sketched, with a rectangular one stretched out above.

            Shang Qinghua nodded for several seconds before looking back up. “What are we looking at, exactly?”

            “A-Jiu,” Yue Qingyuan started, pulling the document closer as some of the talisman lines became clearer. “Is this…?” His voice cracked, and he could feel the stinging behind his eyes as they began to water, leaving him to blink furiously to stop the tears.

            “Based on what information the three of us share, it should be possible to fill in the required identifying details,” A-Jiu confirmed, that fervent, all-encompassing tone taking over his voice. “It would work, with the right refinement. This Master is sure of it.”

            “The seeds are withered. Getting more could take years, if were able to get that close to them at all.”

            “We do not need the seeds, if the rumors coming out of Huan Hua are true.”

            “…” Yue Qingyuan stared at his second-in-command, his light, his lover, his everything.

            “…” A-Jiu stared back.

            “…” Shang Qinghua kept switching his gaze back and forth, clearly unsure of what exactly had the other two in a tizzy.

            “He would never agree to it,” the sect leader finally continued. “He’s obsessed with it, he’d never turn over to us.”

            “He might, if the offer is worded correctly and made at the right time,” Shen Qingqiu countered. “Even monsters have things they wish for more than any other, and even a beast has its uses. We all want this, do we not? If he were to deny the very offer he has so desperately been searching for, then he is even more a fool than this one thought.”

            “And you would be alright with that?”

            “It is mine.” The man drew himself up proudly, a dangerous glint to his eye. “And as far as I am concerned, so is he. I am willing to give it to him. This is my choice, and I have made it.”

            “What are we talking about right now??” Shang Qinghua finally squeaked out, terrified by the manic look sneaking into Shen Qingqiu’s features.

            The Peak Lord of Qing Jing tapped a finger against the array. “It is my wish that the remaining lords consign themselves to secrecy and take up the labor of refining this array to its maximum potential. And upon an auspicious day, we will invite Luo Binghe to bring the body of Shen Qingqiu to Cang Qiong, and use his position as a favored son of Fate to ensure the success of a soul-summoning resurrection ritual.”

            “But you’re already resurrected?” Shang Qinghua pointed out, a furrow to his brow.

            “Not for me, you idiot,” Shen Qingqiu hissed, anger flashing over him before something soft crossed over it, desperately hiding behind the spreading tines of his fan. “It is my wish to trick the little beast into helping bring back our bumbling buffoon, Shen Yuan!”

Chapter Text

            Shen Yuan was, theoretically, used to being alone.

            He had lived a life of isolation the first time around, kept out of the public eye as often as possible and then entirely once he had managed to beg and plead his way into a private living situation with the compromise that his parents could send a specialized cleaning crew through his apartment every two weeks. He had brief, infrequent visits from his family, and was otherwise left to his own devices for entertainment and occupation.

            Then, in the aftermath of his transmigration, he was again a solitary creature for a while. Especially for that first little bit after the conference when he had already pushed-

            …after. After that.

            Point being- he should have had no issue adapting once more to quiet days in the wake of his Jiu-ge’s sudden departure from their shared spirit realm.

            (It didn’t matter that he would wake up in bed and be able to still feel the dissolution of his sworn brother’s form, crumbling away in his arms like dust and smoke. That the warmth he had come to associate with the other was missing in all things, leaving his very core chilled and numb. It didn’t matter that the vibrancies of their home were fading further and further away each time Shen Yuan woke up alone…)

            He was fine. Really.

            So what if he felt a little bored? A little lonely?

            Shen Jiu had managed to figure out a way to view his living form when Shen Yuan had been occupying it. Surely it would be a simple thing for Shen Yuan to figure it out too, right? He could be a kindly little didi ghost and root for him from the sidelines. Maybe he’d eventually figure out how to use Jiu-ge’s hands and they could still play go together… it would be like neither of them were locked in a pocket dimension at all!

            And really, that was the important part, right? If he could figure out how to lock onto things the way Jiu-ge had, and move a body, or share eyes… it would be like he was right there! If he had Shen Jiu’s permission, maybe he could even borrow his voice from time to time, and then he could keep telling Yue-gege stories, or help direct the disciples when Shen Jiu didn’t quite know what to say. If Luo Binghe decided more repayment was needed, maybe he could even help negotiate things to a less bloody conclusion.

            He might be dead, but that didn’t mean he had to be gone, right?

            …gods it was quiet without Jiu-ge to chastise him…

            “System?” Shen Yuan called from where he laid, wrapped up in a stolen outer robe decorated with bamboo leaves and delicate golden swallows. He hadn’t gotten up besides to draw out an article of Shen Jiu’s clothing in days- he was too busy thinking about all the potential he had waiting for him back home, if he could just figure out how to access it. It was fine. Besides, he needed to stay in contact with the style. How else would he be able to match when he was sitting in as a specter? Shen Jiu had been very adamant that he dress properly, he couldn’t let him down now, even if the elder couldn’t see.

            He was a good, filial Didi like that.

[This System provides 24/7 service!] the mechanical voice finally answered after a slight delay. [How can Host User be assisted?]

            “How long have I been here?”

[Host User has been paired to account for ::REDACTED::! The System thanks Host User for such faithful patronage!]

            “That’s not what I meant,” Shen Yuan grumbled, dragging his hands down his face. “How long have I been here? In the data bank?”

[Insufficient Security Clearance- information request denied.]

[Rechanneling Inquiries…]

[…]

[…]

[How can Host User be assisted?]

            “Ugh… just-!” Shen Yuan suddenly waved his hand, frowning as the screen glitched where he passed through. “Nevermind. Go away.”

            The little window vanished, and Shen Yuan felt something welling up under his ribs, cold and heavy. He pulled Shen Jiu’s robe around him tighter, burrowing down into the bedsheets.

            He was fine. This was fine…

            It had to be.

***

            He awoke to beeping.

            In and of itself there was not much to be bothered by- he was used to his alarm clock ringing for several minutes, and today would be no different in spite of his proclamation to his Mei Mei that he did not sleep until noon every-

            “Wait,” he thought, scrunching his nose. “That’s not right…Why is Jiu-ge not-?”

            His eyes flew open as his situation rushed back to him all at once- the crisp, unfailing lines of the bedroom greeting him under an ominous red banner from the System, painting the scene like a low-budget horror movie set.

[Alert!] it read, pulsing slightly. [Firewall code has been damaged.]

            “Uh, what?” Shen Yuan asked dumbly.

[Alert! Firewall code has been damaged!]

[Engaging analog systems for emergency repairs.]

[We are sorry for the inconvenience! Please stand by for alternate holding port.]

            “What?!” Shen Yuan asked again, much more panicked as the room seemed to spin and collapse in on itself, breaking down until there was nothing.

            Not even a simulation of a liminal space- just…

            Nothing.

            The darkness pressed in on him from everywhere, and the silence rang out so loudly he worried he might have gone deaf. He was floating, falling, crushed, expanding, everywhere, with everything and nothing and it was endless and it was too small.

            He was breathing, he was drowning there was too much of nothing of everything and he- he couldn’t-!

            Just as the feeling of being Not was about to overwhelm him, the endless, confining nothingness took shape once more- and he was back in his bedroom, sitting up under the covers in his (stolen) sleeping robes, his hair falling in a braid over his shoulder.

            “What the fuck?”

[The System apologizes for interruptions! Please enjoy this window scene while repairs are underway! The System will be offline until repairs are complete!]

            “What does that even mean?!” Shen Yuan hissed as the worthless mechanical window disappeared again without answering. It didn’t even explain what a window scene was!!

            Typical!

            At least the discordant lighting was gone- replaced by the soft, caressing touch of pale moonlight, painting the room dreamily. Some things had been rearranged, as well. His various little accouterment that had gathered on the vanity were absent, and Shen Jiu’s belongings had once again dispersed over the available space.

            Out in the hall, though, there was sound, which after presumably weeks of bone-grinding silence, Shen Yuan noticed at once.

            “What?” Shen Yuan thought, slipping from the bed and pulling on a fresh outer robe from the wardrobe, noting his modern clothes were missing as well. “Is it that easy to find the way? Jiu-ge made it seem like such an ordeal!”

            Shen Yuan slid the door open slightly, wincing as the boards around him creaked a bit more loudly than he anticipated. If he really was haunting, could the living hear him? Or was this something else? He’d never really noticed his Ge lingering around…

            The sounds from down the hall abruptly stopped, and for a long beat, silence reigned once more. The transmigrator held his breath, counting the long beats of stillness before the soft sounds once again filled the air.

            An investigation was in order, it seemed. He carefully picked his way down the hall, bare feet consciously silent against the floor.

            “Hello?” Shen Yuan called, peeking his head into the kitchen, before stilling for a moment.

            Luo Binghe was at the counter, elbow deep in flour, mixing some sort of dough together, with a surprised look on his face. His disciple’s robes were tied back at the sleeve, but it didn’t stop the little flecks from sticking to his seams where they flicked off at the end of each knead.

            He looked like an innocent little lamb playing housewife.

            “Ah,” Shen Yuan thought, letting a soft smile overtake his features. “So that’s what a window scene is. I suppose it could be worse, given the System’s track record. Pity I can’t visit Jiu-ge yet, though.”

            “Silly boy,” Shen Yuan said to the false-Binghe, letting himself be taken into the illusion as the mask he had built settled over him once more. “How many times has this Master told you rest is more important than an extravagant meal?”

            “…Shizun deserves only the best,” the not-Luo Binghe said after a pause, returning to kneading the dough. “And this lowly disciple was having a hard time resting anyway.”

            “Oh?” Shen Yuan, the mask of Shen Qingqiu easily taking over as he glided into the room further, patting the boy on top of his boundless curls before sliding to press the back of his hand against the other’s cheek. “Has my disciple not been feeling well?”

            The boy did feel warm. Scorching, almost.

            Shen Qingqiu tutted, brushing the boy’s locks away from his face. “No wonder you’re having such a hard time. You’re burning up!” He tapped a fan against the hands still caked in flour. “You shouldn’t be cooking at such an hour, doubly so if you feel unwell! Leave this, and come to the main room. Let shizun take care of you for tonight, hm?”

            There was a bit of back and forth, just as it had been when the real Luo Binghe would have been caught trying to do too much for his old master. Eventually, Shen Qingqiu acquiesced to allowing Binghe to finish what he was making, on the condition that he be behaved as Shen Qingqiu cared for him after.

            It really was too much like that sticky disciple of his.

            Maybe it was just a dream, maybe he would wake again alone in a realm with no warmth, but for a moment in time, he could wrap himself up in a remembered fondness. A moment before all hell broke loose and he had to pivot on all his aspirations.

            He would never regret finding a path that led him closer to the little family he had managed to find in this world, but surely he couldn’t be blamed for indulging in the memories of his little family moments with Binghe, too? His little sheep, his white lotus, his beloved lamb.

            He was sure wherever he was now, the blackened version was being epic and amazing, of course, it was Binghe- most talented, beautiful, charming and charismatic man alive, but this… this Binghe was also precious. If any other path had been available, and he had been able to avoid the betrayal that begat bloody revenge, Shen Qingqiu quite liked to think his little Binghe would have grown up to seem just like this.

            “This one did not mean to trouble Shizun,” the illusion-Binghe said, finally settling down at the table, a meek look on his features as Shen Qingqiu set about brewing a calming tea to go with the small, perfectly executed dumplings the other had crafted.

            “Nonsense,” the elder tutted. “It is the responsibility of the Master to care for the Student. Now come, drink this while it is warm, and I’ll fetch a cool towel for your neck.”

            “Shizun really need not-!”

            “Luo Binghe,” Shen Yuan interrupted, flicking his fan lightly. “Are you disobeying this Master?”

            “No!” The illusion looked like it might have tears well up any second. “It is only… Shizun has done so much for me. I want to do something for him!”

            Shen Qingqiu smiled, reaching out to soft tap the top of his fan against the boy’s forehead, right where his demon mark should have been. “Luo Binghe is the one who deserves to be treated well.”

            With a gentle, small, Qingqiu-esque smile, he slipped away for a moment, returning with supplies that he diligently arranged as needed. It was nice, he dimly observed, to do such things again. As a peak lord, it was very difficult to get sick, but it often took the new disciples years to get to a point where their cultivation would handle smaller ailments on its own.

            It wouldn’t have been appropriate for Shen Qingqiu to nurse every sick child, but he had given aid to a few of them. Luo Binghe at the fore, obviously, but he had also once sat with Ning YingYing as they waited for help from Mu Shidi’s disciples, and again when Ming Fan and his friends had tussled too hard and ended up getting each other sick.

            It was nice, to get to take care of Binghe again. He smoothed the cool rag over the nape of his neck, a dry one positioned underneath to catch any drips and ushered a fresh cup of warm tea into his hands. “Come now, don’t make this Master’s effort in vain.”

            The overgrown white lotus dutifully drank his tea and kept his compress still and Shen Qingqiu could not help but smile.

            “Will shizun not also appreciate this Luo Binghe’s efforts?”

            The request caught him slightly off guard, but after a brief moment, he nibbled on some of the food. This was a dream, after all, and Luo Binghe couldn’t actually get him sick, so there was no point in pretending. Even in dreams, it seemed, the protagonist’s skills truly knew no bounds! How he had missed it!

            “Delightful, as always,” Shen Qingqiu complimented, dabbing at his lips with a napkin once he was done. “If Binghe ever decides to leave cultivation, surely he will ascend into heaven by the grace of his meals alone.”

            Luo Binghe made a cute little squeaking sound, like a chew toy pressed on accident, and Shen Qingqiu found he couldn’t fight the smile that tugged his lips.

            “This master… has missed his Binghe,” he quietly confessed.

            “You have?” Not-Binghe asked, his eyes widening, even as his fingers seemed to clutch tighter at the cup he held.

            “Mm. It is lonely in the Bamboo House without him.” Shen Qingqiu tilted his head slightly, feeling his long braid pool over his shoulder to slide against the table. “He should stay for a while, before he returns to his many duties. Surely after all his work, Binghe deserves a day of rest, no?”

            “This Luo Binghe would be honored to stay by Shizun’s side, always,” the illusion proclaimed, and oh Binghe really would say it just like that, wouldn’t he? That sweet, sticky boy.

            “Then Luo Binghe must stay,” Shen Qingqiu agreed easily, not minding his words that seeped out into the ether. “And he will remain with this Master, always, as it should be.”

            “You mean it, Shizun?” Luo Binghe asked, a blindingly brilliant, beautiful smile taking over his face as he scooted around the corner of the table so they were seated side by side.

            “Does this master often say things he does not mean?” Shen Qingqiu replied, a brow quirked up over the shield of his fan. So! Adorable!

            As quickly as the smile had come, it seemed to falter, cracking and quivering in the corners as a sob wracked through the half-demon, his sigil burning into existence between his brows.

            Decidedly! More! Terrifying!! What! The Fuck!!

            Shen Qingqiu’s own smile froze on his face. “Hello?!? Wasn’t this supposed to be a nice dream in exchange for your shitty maintenance, System?! Why is he crying?!”

            “Binghe?” he tried, reaching out slowly. “What’s wrong?”

            “I’m sorry Shizun,” not-Binghe cried, a single, beautiful, devastating tear escaping to trace perfectly down his cheek. “This Luo Binghe tried to behave, but he is unfilial, in the end.”

            “What- mmph!” His attempt to ask “what do you mean?” was rather abruptly interrupted by a pair of lips pressing against his own, hot like fire and firm like iron. He froze, mind grinding to a halt even as the mirage of Luo Binghe began to gnaw on his lips, what the FUCK?!

            “Binghe,” he managed to gasp once the other pulled away, his voice far too soft in shock to be a proper reprimand. “What are you doing?!”

            “Forgive me, Shizun,” the man next to him begged, even as his hand found purchase at his waist and pulled him close. “This one is awful and cannot stand to hide his affections anymore!”

            “What!?”

            Lips descended on his again, softer this time, and lighter, dancing over his features even as his own mind refused to compute.

            What was this dream?!??!? Shen Yuan wasn’t an ass, he was an ally! All for equality! But, cool as that was, he was still decidedly NOT gay!

            “I love you,” Luo Binghe whispered in his ear, and shivers suddenly danced down his spine. “Please come back, I’ll do anything, I promise.”

            “What?” Shen Yuan squeaked again. Something seemed to change on the air, and he felt Luo Binghe stiffen slightly.

            “Shizun?” Luo Binghe pulled back once more, his brows drawn together slightly. Shen Yuan could feel liquid embarrassment being pumped directly into his veins, his face no doubt turning redder than a tomato at the height of summer as the other observed him, a strange look taking over his features until they seemed to settle on horror. “…shizun?”

            “Binghe?” Shen Yuan was still being held flush, practically in the half-demon’s lap, and he desperately cast his gaze around for literally anything else to focus on. “I-uh- I don’t… I don’t understand what’s happening right now.”

            He could feel the familiar mask of Shen Qingqiu slipping- revealing the Shen Yuan beneath, but that didn’t matter right? It was just… a weird dream.

[Hidden Achievement Unlocked! <Protagonist Promises of Perpetual Adoration> Way to go host! +100 story complexity! +50 b-points!]

[Firewall repair complete. Removing Host User from proxy.]

            Now wait a motherfucking second!

            “Shizun?!” The hands at his waist seemed to spasm, as though they could not decide if it was best to throw him into the wall or tear him to pieces. And how could he resist it, huh? The System was out here forcing its own glorious, glistening, grade A stallion protagonist to play romance with a man! An old man! An old man who was a backstabbing liar!!!

            What the fuck. What the FUCK?!

[Firewall repair complete. Removing Host User from proxy.]

            “Nonono- System WAIT-!” Shen Yuan tried to swipe away the screen that had appeared, gasping as Luo Binghe latched onto his wrist, his dark eyes clouded by a feeling Shen Yuan couldn’t even begin to name.

            “Shizun? …Is this real?”

            Shen Yuan didn’t get the chance to answer, his cry for a delay ignored as he felt himself once again be broken down to nothing.

            He sat up to a black and white morning amid his and Shen Jiu’s belongings, with no trace of Luo Binghe no matter where he looked. If this version of Qing Jing had birds, he would have startled them when he finally had enough, throwing his fan over the edge of the topmost cliff face with a loud shout.

            “What the FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK?!”

Chapter Text

            Shang Qinghua’s role as a mole came with a double edge. It had been moderately easier when he’d been made de facto leader of Caing Qiong whilst Yue Qingyuan was indisposed. Having all the pieces in his own hands was easier to juggle than trying to manipulate, mansplain, manwhore his plans into action through others. (Though thankfully it had been some time since he’d had to flutter his eyelashes at some mediocre person to get where he needed to go. Having an ice giant’s aura lingering around tended to help negate the need for insincere flirting.) But with purpose returned to the sect leader’s days and a direction for their little group to steer the world- that left Shang Qinghua fielding the middle ground once more.

            While Yue Qingyuan had, overall, convinced Shen Qingqiu to agree to his continuation with the sect with the knowledge he shared info judiciously (and subsequently be allowed to continue having his head attached to his shoulders), Luo Binghe…

            Well. Luo Binghe was a different beast to manage for, especially in regards to the whole corpse situation.

            In the last several weeks alone, Shang Qinghua could count the times he could confirm the demon lord had actually slept on one hand, the tell-tale lines of exhaustion that came from extended dream manipulation showing more and more in the fine contours of his face. He’d been nigh on manic for days, mumbling under his breath and stalking through every aisle in Huan Hua Palace’s extensive library.

            While it seemed he was willing to send Shang Qinghua out on new and extravagant fetch quests, it was clear that his prodigal son had no intention of actually sharing his latest flight of fancy. Oh, no, that would be too easy! Rather than a badass demon emperor who collected beauties at every turn, Shang Qinghua was left to play advisor to a moping overlord. It was a good thing he had so much experience from handling the Northern Desert’s court! The sheer level of Luo Binghe’s latest manic wave was a pain to handle.

            Or, rather, that fact that it left Shang Qinghua in charge of his never-ending line of subjects hoping to get a piece of the newly expanded Emperor’s power was a pain to manage.

            “No,” Shang Qinghua sighed for what felt like the millionth time that morning, rubbing his temple. “Junshang is not available to discuss this, and he’s not going to be. I told you the same last week.”

            “My daughter-!”

            “Is very lovely, I’m sure,” Shang Qinghua interrupted, giving the spokesperson a smiling glare from his place at the head of the reception room, just to the right of the empty chair on the dais. “But Lord Luo has no interest in procuring a wife at this time, and if he hears of this insistence, your lovely daughter is going to start being referred to in past tense along with the rest of you, do you understand? His answer is no.”       

            The lesser lord spluttered, and Shang Qinghua tried to keep his head up as they postured and squawked (god why did he make the bird demons so loud and annoying, what was he thinking) until the entourage finally exited the audience hall in a swaning drove of black feathers and gold jewelry.

            “Cut off the line,” Shang Qinghua ordered, waving two of the guards off as he dropped his head in his hands. “We’re done granting audiences for today. Anyone left can leave a message and we’ll sort through them on matter of urgency. Those hoping for marriage alliances need not leave anything.”

            “The lords will not be pleased,” one of the demonic scribes muttered to his assistant. “They came across the borderlands and will expect to at least be seen by an advisor. See how they are here?”

            Unfortunately for him, Shang Qinghua had a cultivators hearing, and snagged him by the collar as he passed by. “No one gets to make demands of the Emperor, no matter how many asses they’ve kissed to be called a lord. They came all this way, and they can either wait for the next session in the west wing, or make the trip again. As for you, you can drop off your notes and return to your home. Junshang has no need for whelps who question who the authority he holds over his own domain.”

            The demon’s eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. “I did not mean-!”

            “Yeah, sure you didn’t,” Shang Qinghua smiled. “But we run a tight ship here, and you’ve just gotten yourself a nice long walk off of a very short plank, so.” He shrugged. “Maybe you can go work for one of those other lords, since you seem to have so many opinions about them, although you can’t expect me to give you a good recommendation with how sloppy your work has been these last few months. Right? Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” He turned to address the rest of the hall. “Anyone else want to share their thoughts about ‘how we are here’?”

            “No, Advisor,” came the chorus.

            “Good!” Shang Qinghua clapped his hands together. “Get the orders organized and sent out, then get working on the docket. Anything requiring Junshang’s approval goes by my desk first, and I will deliver them at the general’s counsel this evening. Questions? No? Good. Dismissed.”

            With the wave of his hands, the amalgamation of demons and human servants scattered in swaths of Huan Hua gold and demonic blacks, setting about to task as he exited the hall to his personal office, leaning against the door once he got inside.

            “Why did I joooooooin,” he groaned into his hands.

            “Qinghua.”

            With a very dignified, manly yelp, the spy jumped and straightened his posture. “My King! I, heh, I didn’t realize you were in here!”

            The room carried oddly warm, the usual chill of his king’s presence dampened in deference to Luo Binghe’s dominion over the area. He was still getting used to the new level, and it was mildly unsettling to not be accosted by the wall of freezing air when within ten feet of the man.

            “Come,” Mobei-Jun said, waving a portal into existence. “Junshang expects us.”

            “Lovely,” Shang Qinghua sighed, shivering as he stepped through the tear in reality, long since accustomed to the sensation of falling through ice as he moved from one side to the other.

            Luo Binghe waited, sprawled over the ornate throne that rested amid the sprawling, serpentine form of a golden dragon, his eyes dull and his expression blank. “Shang Qinghua- your report from Cang Qiong.”

            “Ah, of course,” the mole said with a bow, granting the other a somewhat genuine smile. He knew the boy needed it. “The peak lords have been busy talking, Junshang. There’s a new guest staying with the sect leader on Qiong Ding and there’s many rumors going out. I’ve a set of notes for you here…”

***

            “And you are certain they expect nothing?” Shen Qingqiu asked him again, his fan whipping up a gale between them.

            “If he thought there was even a chance you were alive here, I wouldn’t be able to stop him from barging over and trying to claim you himself, shixiong,” Shang Qinghua repeated, halfway through his flask and slipping sideways at the tea table.

            “Mm.”

            “All I’m saying,” Shang Qinghua continued, “is that he really has been focusing more on the idea of somehow managing to bring his Shizun back. He always has been, but the last while has been…particularly intense. I can’t figure out why though. The whispers aren’t saying anything.”

            “Naturally, we appreciate the efforts,” Yue Qingyuan chimed in, his hand settling over his partner’s, the gale of the hand fan softening slightly. “We will, of course, also be on the lookout for further developments.”

            “Naturally,” the An Ding lord acquiesced. “Now, after my work over at Demon Central, I am recently concussed and haven’t slept in three days, so if there’s nothing else I can help with right now, I would like to return to putting out whatever fires have sprung up on An Ding while I’ve been out and then sleep for the next forty years.”

            “Bold of you to assume Lui shidi can keep from breaking something for even forty minutes.”

            “At this point, I’ll take five.” He slipped away from the table. “Don’t worry, my guys. I’ve got it covered. If anything changes, you’ll be the first to know.”

            “Before you go, Qinghua,” Yue Qingyuan started apologetically. “There is one other thing.”

            “Of course,” the third peak lord answered with a tired smile, sitting back down.

            “What did I just say, Yue bro?”

***

            When he finally had more than four hours in which to rest, Shang Qinghua woke up to no less than fifteen missives from all three of his rotating overlords.

            God he was gonna steal Cucumber bro and go on a damn spa vacation once he wasn’t dead anymore. The last year and a half with the original goods breathing down his neck was permanently cramping his style. Shen Yuan would be perfect for redirecting all that weird energy. He probably remembered all the best hot spring locations too. Damn his perfect memory.

            The thought had him reaching for his flask. Maybe today would be best spent over at Huan Hua after all, and he could try to slip in to make sure things with his bro were still top shape.

            Luo Binghe and he had arrived at an agreement, after all. And his demonic emperor had been even more obsessive over the body of his former teacher as of late, calling for all sorts of manuscripts of ill report and spending even more time in the cold room where it lay in state. It didn’t bode well for things if Shang Qinghua let the plan detour too far in one direction or another on either side.

            It was a delicate balancing act, teetering between loyalty to his King and Junshang, and loyalty to his martial family. But there, in the middle, they would hopefully find the last few pieces that they needed. They had managed to make it this far, after all.

            He was too tired to keep it up if they missed the first window.

***

            “Liu Qingge, you will fill out the proper requisition forms and have them to properly filed by the end of the week or so help me gods-!”

            “And perhaps that would be the signal that we ought to hold a recess for the time being,” Yue Qingyuan interrupted, a warm hand easing the patience-frayed Shang Qinghua back into his seat before gesturing to the circle of peak lords. “Everyone, lets take a quarter shichen to get ourselves back together.”

            The sect leader at least had the decency to wait until the others started shuffling about before turning to him. “Qinghua?”

            “I’m fine,” he deflected. “Just tired.”

            “Perhaps you ought to rest after the rest of the meeting then.”

            “I can’t, I have to go meet with our work associates about the upcoming changes.”

            “Surely it can wait a day?”

            “Yeah, and then your ‘prestigious guest’ will rip my fingernails off and feed them back to me,” the An Ding lord hissed. “He’s got a schedule, and I’m keeping it. Lin Qingshui and Gao Qinggao submitted their final draft this morning and I am not going to be the one who fucks it up in the last stretch.”

            “You have been pushing yourself,” Yue Qingyuan tried.

            “And I’ll rest when it’s done, Qingyuan.” Shang Qinghua looked at him, his eyes heavy and itchy after days without sleep. He didn’t know how much longer he could brute force his way through the plan he’d been given, but he wasn’t going to stop now.

[Mod Quest: {{Brother, Beholden}} is 80% complete.]

[Current Objectives: -Maintain double operative status to prepare for the return of Shen Yuan.]

[Additional Objectives: -Avoid angering Shen Jiu. -Avoid angering Luo Binghe. -Avoid angering Mobei Jun. -Avoid angering Yue Qingyuan. -Avoid drawing attention from --- ------.]

            “I have things I have to do,” Shang Qinghua sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he banished the system window again. “You know that. Its… I don’t think it will be much longer. It’ll be fine.”

            Yue Qingyuan regarded him with a carefully neutral gaze before he stood, brushing his sleeves out lightly. “I have never doubted your dedication, Qinghua. But if there is a fuss over your state at the end of things, I won’t say I didn’t try. Come by the house before you head out, let us give you a hand.”

            “Is that an order, Sect Leader Yue?”

            “Its an invitation, my friend.” His hand settled warm on his shoulder once more. “You haven’t been by for simple company in too long. It will be good for all of us. I know these years have been trying.”

            “Understatement of the century,” Shang Qinghua huffed, sipping from his cup of spiked tea. “But fine. I’ll stop by, but I can’t stay long. I’m expected, and your friend really does have me on a strict run time to get things in place.”

***

            Shang Qinghua did not get wasted at guy’s night. He did not end up calling for Mobei Jun to take him to the palace and end up crying into his massive, icy chest until he passed out. There had to be a totally other, normal, dignified reason for him to wake up to find himself on a titty pillow with a headache that could kill the Heavenly Emperor, in a freezing room bedecked in royal blue.

            Because if he had to admit that this was how he got into his king’s bed, he might just expire on the spot. And-

            Oh.

            Oh no.

            “…uh. Good morning, My King?”

            His response was the quiet narrowing of pale blue eyes and a hand pushing his face back down. “Qinghua needs sleep. This one will deal with Junshang after.”

            Well… if his king was insisting! Delicate balances- he couldn’t afford to be rude.

            He was more excited about the nap for the time being.

***

            “I told you that you are not to enter here without explicit permission,” Luo Binghe said, deftly closing the curtains over the original Shen body as his advisor entered the room.

            “I am aware, Junshang,” Shang Qinghua agreed, bowing his head slightly. “But something has come up.”

            “I am not to be disturbed during these hours. Get out.” Luo Binghe moved, gathering a bowl with damp towels. “Whatever it is can wait.”

            “Ah,” Shang Qinghua thought to himself as he watched, noting several new tomes along the desk, the table in the corner filled with various creams, powders, and elixirs. “He’s just finishing up the cleaning routine again.”

            “All due respect, Junshang,” he insisted, returning to the task at hand. “I do think that this is something you will want to deal with urgently.”

            “I said-!”

            “It involves Shen Qingqiu,” Shang Qinghua interrupted in a rare display of direct disobedience. “As your advisor, and his martial brother, I would highly recommend that you come with me to the throne room to receive your guest in person.”

            “Liu Qingge is overdue for an appearance, I won’t be-“ He cut off as Shang Qinghua heaved a put-upon sigh.

            “Liu Qingge has been sequestered in the Lingxi Spirit Caves by the sect leader with an excuse for strengthening his cultivation. Which, I will tell you, is a ploy to keep him out of the way.”

            “And why would Yue Qingyuan need to keep Liu Qingge out of the way?”

            “As I was saying, Junshang,” Shang Qinghua said with a sharp smile. “I would suggest you come to the throne room and discuss it with him yourself. He’s being very insistent on speaking with you.”

            There was only a moment’s pause as Luo Binghe seemed to register what he was saying before he drew Xin Mo from where it rested against the sword rack on the wall, splicing open a line of darkness and stepping through, leaving Shang Qinghua to follow.

            It wasn’t nearly as familiar as passing through one of Mobei Jun’s portals, and it left the taste of ash and burnt oil on his tongue. But the discomfort soon passed, and the throne room waited, in all its resplendent glory, with a pair of guards standing, armed, on either side of a familiar, mild smile.

            “Palace Master Luo,” Yue Qingyuan greeted with an appropriate bow. “Forgive this Master for stopping by without advance notice, but I hope you have a moment to discuss some matters I feel we will both hold as being of great importance.”

Chapter Text

            Yue Qingyuan was careful to tow the line between deference to another powerful leader, and the intrinsic value of his own position as he bowed to the half demon before him.

            “Cang Qiong is bold, if they think-“

            “I am not here to cause you problems,” Yue Qingyuan politely interrupted, straightening. “In fact, it is my hope that today we can resolve the issues of our conflicts. It is for this purpose that I felt it was necessary to speak to you myself- leader to leader, in the pursuit of peace.”

            “Cang Qiong has sent Liu Qingge to disrupt my courts every other day for seven years,” Luo Binghe said, baring his teeth. “You expect me to believe you mean to do anything else now?”

            “I thought you might have some reservations,” the sect leader agreed, untying Xuan Su from his belt. “So allow me to make the first gesture, if it will appease the Palace Master.”

            He carefully tucked the tassel of his sword (a beautiful thing crafted from flawless jade by his beloved A-Jiu) up against the hilt, smoothly sliding the whole of it into the mouth of a waiting qainkun bag, letting the secondary sword he carried follow it in before tying the bag shut and sliding it into the lapel of his robes. It would be a hard feat to retrieve it quickly, and he was pleased to note that Luo Binghe seemed to also be aware as such.

            “I do not wish to fight with you,” Yue Qingyuan repeated, carefully watching the expressions that flittered across the younger lord’s face. “If this one may be so bold… Palace Master Luo is dear to my dear ones. It would never be my wish to cause them despair by hurting him.”

            “You once drew your infamous blade against me,” Luo Binghe reminded him coldly.

            “In a fit of grief at seeing my shidi fall.” Yue Qingyuan bowed once more. “And this humble Master must live with the regret of that day for all his life. Your master would have never allowed me such behavior. I apologize to you, Lord Luo, though I do not expect any easy forgiveness.”

            “What do you expect to achieve from this?” Luo Binghe somehow managed to appear even taller, lifting his chin with a frown. “Why come to offer empty apologies now?”

            “They are far from empty,” the sect leader corrected, daring to take a step closer. “But I do not wish to cause pain if my recompenseory gift to you is incompatible.”

            “And what gift is that?”

            “In order to tell you, Lord Luo, I would need to see my shidi.”

            “Absolutely not.” The half-demon turned away, his fingers gripping the hilt of his dark sword tightly. “I am not an idiot, Yue Qingyuan.”

            “I do not wish to remove him from your care,” he tried to explain.

            “Like hell you don’t!” Luo Binghe snarled, a wave of demonic qi flooding the room suddenly. “It is all your sect has done to try for these years.”

            “Please allow me to explain,” Yue Qingyuan asked, keeping his voice steady and calm through sheer will alone. “I want him to stay here for now. We need him to stay here for now.”

            That seemed to cut through the haze somewhat, and he found himself bearing the full force of the other’s demonic gaze. “What do you mean?”

            “Let me examine the body, and I will tell you everything,” Yue Qingyuan promised. “But without knowing his state I cannot promise anything. Please.”

            Luo Binghe watched him.

            “Please,” Yue Qingyuan repeated, a tinge of the desperate feeling in his lungs seeping out with the word. “I have sealed my blades, and promised peace. This is your arena, and I will respect that. Please, just let me see him. That is all that I ask. Shadow me with however many guards you like, or with your blade at my throat. Just let me see him.”

            It was humiliating to beg a man who was barely more than a boy in the grand scheme of things, but he and A-Jiu had worked too hard to get to that point for him to put it off for the sake of his pride. If Luo Binghe needed his ego stroked and his power coddled, it would be done. He owed it to his Didi to try.

            “…” Luo Binghe regarded him with suspicion in his gaze. “You will wear a loop of immortal binding cable, and you will keep your hands where I may see them at all times.”

            “Of course, Palace Master Luo.” Yue Qingyuan grimaced slightly. He was of a high enough level that a single coil of cable would not be enough to entirely seal his qi, but it would be uncomfortable for a multitude of other reasons. “Although, with your permission, I would like to check his spiritual paths.”

            “His meridians are fine,” Luo Binghe dismissed, pulling a length of red cord from his sleeve. (Yue Qingyuan didn’t want to know why that was something he seemed to simply carry with him.) “Sect Leader Yue has no reason to touch him at all.”

            Mm. Yue Qingyuan couldn’t deny that it was less than ideal to not verify the state of Shen Qingqiu’s original form, but he did not push the matter, allowing the demonic lord to loop the coil tightly around his wrist. It was too tight to be comfortable, and the longer end remained in Luo Binghe’s hand like a leash.

            “Endure the binding for Yuan-didi’s sake. It is fine as long as he is well,” he thought, pushing down panicked memories as he was led not unlike a dog. The guards followed closely, and behind them, Shang Qinghua.

            “I am surprised Sect Leader Yue has made no comment on my advisor’s appearance,” Luo Binghe said as they weaved through the golden halls.

            “I have known of Shang-shidi’s connection to a particular demon for some time. I assumed he was here to visit them.” A blatant lie, but it was better than admitting that Shang Qinghua was spying on all three of them for each of the others.

            “And Lord Yue has no qualms about that?” The tone was fine, friendly even, but it only served to accentuate the thread of threat that ran through the core.

            “Qinghua is a man of his own. As long as he comes to bear when the sect needs him, why should I deny him his happiness?”

            The martial brother in question seemed to trip over his own feet for a moment, squeaking. “It’s not like that!”

            “Mm. There is no shame in joy, Qinghua.” And based on the very large ice demon that had come at his shidi’s call during their last night of revelry, sweeping him up into his arms and carrying him away, it seemed Shang Qinghua was the only one not aware that it very much was like that.

            “Yue-bro… stooop.”

            In spite of the situation, he smiled. A more genuine one, this time. It was easier to tease his martial brother than to focus on the feeling of the rope around his wrists, or the fear of this last hope failing.

            “I will remind you once, Yue Qingyuan,” the demon lord said as the abruptly stopped in front of an ornate pavilion. “If you make so much as a twitch towards breaking our arrangement, you will return to Qiong Ding in pieces.”

            “I understand,” he confirmed, forcing himself to breathe evenly as they entered, suddenly beset by a rush of cold air, like ice.

            The room was simple, by Huan Hua standards, but everything was fine and immaculately organized. A long table stretched the back wall, filled with bottles and bowls and books, and in the center of the left hand wall, a dais displayed a large bed, its occupant hidden by fine red silks.

            Luo Binghe suddenly tugged on the cable around his wrists, and Yue Qingyuan stumbled slightly, hissing as the cold tip of a thin blade was suddenly pressed against his neck.

            “Any sudden movements,” Luo Binghe hissed. “And I will kill you where you stand.”

            Yue Qingyuan resisted the urge to nod, moving in careful tandem as they stepped up to the edge of the curtains.

            “You,” the demon ordered towards the An Ding lord. “Open them. Slowly.”

            Yue Qingyuan felt like the Endless Abyss opened up in his heart as the fabric was pulled away.

            The body lay peacefully, its hands demurely folded over the chest. It’s skin was pale, but whole. Free of blood or rot as far as Yue Qingyuan could see. The robes it wore were clearly not the ones it had arrived in, a lighter green inner robe and a heavier one wrapped over top in black- both seeming to be clean. His nails were perfect little crescents, and his hair delicately braided over one shoulder.

            It almost looked like he had never died at all, but the thought did little to ease the sudden ache of loss that shot through him.

            “Please.” Yue Qingyuan asked again, his voice hoarse as his fingers stretching slightly. “We think… I have been working with a guest for some time. We think there is a way to wake him but I must check his meridians.”

            The knife twitched slightly, betraying the demon’s surprise. “What?”

            When he was not explicitly denied, Yue Qingyuan pressed only the barest hint of qi available under the cable’s power to the corpse’s wrist, a relieved breath rushing through him as he could immediately tell that the meridians were not only intact- they might have even had some repairs done to them.

            At once, he was pulled away, steel nicking his cheek as he dodged a strike. “I did not give you permission!”

            “Nor did you deny me, and now we know he is well enough to go forward.” He dodged another strike, calling out to the other Peak Lord in the room. “Qinghua! Tell Wu Fangbei that we are able to proceed!”

            “You will explain yourself,” the demon hissed, managing to latch onto his arm as the knife returned. “What did you mean by waking Shizun?”

            “I know you have been searching for much the same,” Yue Qingyuan shared. “In this, we are agreed. He is safest here while we prepare, and if you are willing to agree to our terms, we will allow for you to join us for the rite.”

            The blade fell away, and he was roughly turned. “I do not care for your mocking!”

            “I am not mocking you!” Yue Qingyuan’s neutrality fell away at last, an uncommon expression of mild hostility taking over. “I know Lord Luo has had his difficulties with his martial family, but some of us treasure the bond of brotherhood above all others.” He shook the demon’s hand off. “And at the end of the day, this man loved you very much. If he was able to see the good in you, I am bound by our bond to try and do the same!”

            “What a unique trap you lay,” Luo Binghe sneered.

            “There is no trap!” Yue Qingyuan defended once again. “We just want our brother to come home!”

            “It is always a cry for brotherhood with your ilk.” Luo Binghe gave a sullen laugh. “The Qing generation must truly know no bounds!”

            “As though you were able to not love him either,” Yue Qingyuan bit back darkly.

            “What did you just say to me?”

            “If you were trying to keep it a secret, you didn’t handle it well,” the Sect Leader responded, a small note of satisfaction blooming as Luo Binghe reared back as if struck. “After all, who would fight so hard, and for so long, to keep a person like this if it was not for love? Even hatred burns out, eventually, but you… you have never ceased. Not in this. Not for him.”

            “Sect Leader Yue must be disgusted,” Luo Binghe said, an ugly expression on his fine face.

            “I could not go a single day without Shen-didi telling me that he missed his disciple. In every moment, there was something for him to be reminded of Luo-shizhi by.” At the slightly bewildered expression he was greeted with, Yue Qingyuan decided to press his advantage. “I know what he did to you that day, when you were first separated. And I know he regretted it for every moment after. This… was no doubt his apology. How could reciprocation of such devotion disgust me?”

            “I did not ask it of him.” The demon stalled, hurt glancing through his eyes. “I did not ask him to suffer for me.”

            “You did not,” he agreed. “But Shen-didi is nothing if not an expert at finding the most difficult way to achieve something as simple as saying he had regrets. Perhaps in this we are too alike… But that is not the point! The point is we all want him to awaken. What happens after must be his decision, but I would see him free to make it.”

            “Why are you telling me this?” Luo Binghe asked, a shiver of qi dancing on the air as he seemed almost half-wild.

            “Your master loved you, but it was clear he was afraid you would hold a grudge,” Yue Qingyuan said. “And for the rite we have conceived, it can only be done by those who cared for him and were cared for in return. It is very powerful, and will require strong cultivators with intrinsic bonds if it is to succeed.” He paused, descending the dais slowly, making a point to leave his side unguarded. “It is no secret Luo-shizhi cares for his master. It is only right that he be offered to join us, if his intentions are truly pure.”

            “The members of Cang Qiong hate me,” Luo Binghe said, his demeanor changing to sharp confusion instead of blatant violence. "Why would the agree to this?"

            “You will have to trust that Shen Qingqiu is loved more than Luo Binghe is hated.” Yue Qingyuan said simply. “They blame you for his passing. Earn their forgiveness by helping to bring him back.”

            “How can I trust you?” Luo Binghe asked.

            “I see it there,” Yue Qingyuan thought as he watched the other. “There is still a lost boy hiding under that mask of a Demonic Emperor.”

            “Sometimes,” he said over his own thoughts. “We simply have to trust, without a guarantee.” He reached into his sleeve, pulling out a leather sheaf of papers, setting them down on the table that ran the side of the room. “This is not all of the information- some of it cannot be transcribed accurately. But Luo-shizhi is welcomed to review it.”

            “It cannot be so simple.” Luo Binghe was not looking at him, instead staring up towards the curtains.

            “Not quite, no,” Yue Qingyuan agreed, turning back to pace the wider space slowly. “We do have some terms for your participation.”

            “And what might those be?”

            “In a fortnight’s time, on the eve of the full moon, Palace Master Luo Binghe is welcomed to bring the form of Shen Qingqiu to Qiong Ding, arriving by sunset. He may bring two attendants, but no more. He will wait at the foot of the mountain, and Xin Mo must be secured in our dominion as I have secured Xuan Su for yours. Shen-shidi will be turned over to Mu Qingfang to be cleansed of any residual demonic energies, in preparation to receive an influx of spiritual energy.”

            Yue Qingyuan paused for a moment, allowing the other to digest the information somewhat before continuing. “After the confirmation of his condition, you will be permitted to ascend the mountain and receive in-depth instructions on how you will be assisting the rite by myself and Wu Fangbei- who is an expert in the rite’s construction. Luo Binghe must remain in the presence of at least one of the upper lords and Master Wu for the duration of his visit. Luo Binghe will not use demonic energy inside the sect unless it is to defend himself from unjust actions. If such actions should occur, this Master will mete out punishment to the offender at once. Once the right is completed successfully, Luo Binghe may remain to entreat an audience with his master, but if he is denied, he will be expected to respect that decision. Abide by these conditions, and this Master vows no harm shall befall Luo Binghe or his attendants during their stay.”

            “And if I should decide not to attend?”

            “Naturally, Luo Binghe cannot be forced to participate, and will not be, as the resentment of such an action would ruin the spells woven in. But if Shen-shidi is not at the base of the mountain by sunset, we will naturally attempt to retrieve him ourselves so we may proceed at the correct hour.”

            “And when you fail to do so?”

            “Then those of us who do not die trying may all suffer in grief together for another twenty years as we wait for the right alignments to converge once more.” He tilted his head, smiling demurely. “But I do not think I would be alone in my belief none of us could stand to wait so long. So, it would simply be best if Lord Luo would accept this Master’s invitation.”

            Yue Qingyuan flicked out his sleeves, glancing once more to where the red curtains had parted to reveal the body resting on the bed. “I sincerely hope, for his sake if nothing else, that you will be willing to put aside our differences. But I know that this is likely much to consider, and I will leave you to it. Besides, there are final preparations to be made that require my participation.”

            “You’re just going to leave?” Luo Binghe asked as the sect leader neared the doorway, left slightly open after Shang Qinghua’s quick exit in the middle of their argument.

            “I told you,” Yue Qingyuan said over his shoulder. “I came to offer peace, and I have. Now you must decide if you will accept it. And Luo Binghe?” He turned, thinking of his Yuan-didi as he gave the boy a soft, genuine smile. “I hope that you will. Your master would be heartbroken to see us fight in earnest.”

            He turned and swept out of the pavilion, tilting his head to catch the breeze as he walked away, every fiber in his being begging to turn back and take his family home that instant.

            But Luo Binghe was strong, and it would be no small thing for them to cross blades. They were each legendary cultivators in their own right, after all. There was no telling the damage they could do to one another, and regardless, it would be better to have him as an ally for Shen Yuan than an enemy. And he was no hypocrite.

            He had asked Luo Binghe to trust him, so he too must try to trust Luo Binghe, however difficult that might have proven to be.

Chapter Text

            Shen Jiu was anxious.

            Yue Qingyuan had left for Huan Hua Palace before dawn, slipping from their bed with a tired kiss to his throat and trailing hands. If he weren’t so worried about him getting stabbed in the near future, he might have even asked for more, but with the knowledge that his beloved was headed to the lair of the enemy, all he could do was cling tightly for stolen moments.

            He had braided a thin red string into his Qi-ge’s hair, hidden within his crown. Another adorned his own beneath the veil of Wu Fangbei. A silent promise to one another.

            “It is ready, Master Wu,” one of the few trusted disciples present announced to him, stepping away from the large, flat face of the stone slab before them. “Shall I have the others step out or do you require further assistance?”

            Shen Jiu rolled the large meditation beads he clasped between his fingers, veil dancing gently in the breeze as he nodded once, shifting the beads to rest over his wrists. After two years of maintaining the façade for all besides his Qi-ge, there was an ease to the motion, his mask thickened day by day as he crafted his persona until Shen Qingqiu rested only in the haze of his memories and the halls of the sect leader’s house.

            “Go now. I will attend to this for the remainder of the day. Call once Sect Leader Yue returns and I will appraise him of the progress,” he signed with his hands before allowing them to gather the beads up once more.

            “Of course, Master Wu,” the young man responded with a bow, slipping away.

            Shen Jiu had to admit- when they weren’t conspiring to make his life as difficult as possible, the little whelps were surprisingly useful to have around. Not that he would ever admit as such. It would strike against his image once the charade of Wu Fangbei was put to rest.

            Which would be soon, if all went well in other areas.

            He had been working tirelessly with the aide of Shang Qinghua to formulate, supply, and craft all of the grand requirements- consulting the other lords’ expertise as needed. Even they did not seem to suspect him, each bowing with graciousness for “Master Wu” that a former version of the Qing Jing lord has never been privy to.  With no great arguments that were sure to occur when things were asked by Shen Qingqiu, they were now in the final efforts and well on track- the quarrying and installation of the five large stones excavated from the Lingxi Caves below Qiong Ding- each carefully extracted and hauled to the constructed site at pinnacle of the mount.

            It had taken six months to get the location prepared, and another year for all the pieces to be arranged just so.

            At present, Shen Jiu was painstakingly looking over every pore in the gathered rock, ensuring the younger cultivators had polished it correctly to remove any and all imperfections. Satisfied that it was workable, his wooden beads slipped into the sash at his waist without a second thought, and he pressed the tip of a long, thin brush into waiting ink, painting slow, dedicated lines along the surface.

            He had already crafted three of these in preparation. The ink was only the first step. He would ensure the guidelines were perfect- absolutely perfect- and then, once everything else was completed, each of the five chosen tributaries would arrive to carve out the stones with their qi, imbuing them with channels linked to their resonance and power. In that moment- the rite would truly begin, and none of them would be free for distractions until it was finished. If they wavered for even a moment, all could be lost.

            He held no small amount of trepidation over allowing so much to rest on the hope of Luo Binghe’s good graces, but if the intel was good, then there was no doubt that he was among the dedicated. Fanatical, perhaps, even. Unwilling, it seemed, in any way to admit defeat.

            Yet another skin-crawling similarity for them then.

            He would have scoffed upon the first report Shang-shidi had given him, emphasizing the wholehearted devotion of the young demon lord, and called it a fool’s affection, if not for his own unwavering commitment to see his Yuan-di returned to him once more.

            Had he, too, not been a beast? Had Shen Yuan’s gentle hands and kind words not also shaped him into something softer? Taken the granite of his heart and carved out peace and beauty like a master mason?

            Could he then deny that those touches might tame even demonic fires as well?

            If anyone could learn to truly love a monster- it would be Shen Yuan. His brother from another world had sworn up and down that he would never want to harm a hair on the half-blood’s head. If Shen Jiu were to remain in good standing, he supposed that would mean that he, too, must somehow find a way to allow the mongrel a modicum of kindness- even if it made his skin crawl.

            To be fair, he hadn’t done much in the way of disservice yet. His Huan Hua palace may have been grabbed nefariously, and hosted demons who crossed through the borderlands, but none of those creatures had wandered further into human lands. The actual cultivators, too, were more effective than they had been in years. Attacks overall were on the decline, and human wellness was steadily rising as Huan Hua cultivators spread out in clinics and waystations for laymen and travelers.

            It almost seemed idyllic, if not for the knowledge that the man at its helm was bound by blood to Evil incarnate, and cradled the corpse of his detonated master each night.

            Still, a small voice wondered in the back of his mind. He had not seen the demon himself, so he could not confirm any differences. What if it all was a farce, and Luo Binghe truly did become the monster he had once foreseen? What then?

            He pondered his musings with each delicate swipe of his brush, painting array after overlapping array. He had a fortnight to figure his standing out. A fortnight to constrain himself to a potential future of Luo Binghe around every corner. After two years of the effort, he thought he could maybe manage, as long as the little beast was left to trail after Yuan-di peaceably.

            The moment Shen Yuan seemed displeased, though, Xiu Ya would cleave the mongrel’s head from his shoulders. And if he proved himself enough, he could be convinced to stay his hand.

            Yuan-di would be so proud of his kindness.

            With that thought, he smiled under his white veil, hidden again by his wrap underneath and continued to paint. He still had to trace and carve the arrays for the ground, bridges, and walls as well. He couldn’t delay for daydreams quite yet. They were on a tight schedule, after all.

***

            “It is not a question of your dedication,” he signed to Wei Qingqwei. “The tributaries were chosen based on strength and attachments. You will have use elsewhere.”

            “It is nearly sunset, and he has not arrived!” the Wan Jian lord said, displeased as he fiddled with the tassel of his sword. “Liu Qingge should be off to retrieve him, not meditating in the caves with Shang Qinghua. We’re nearly out of time! Send him, and if he is too weak when he returns, I will be the tributary for Shen Qingqiu.”

            “Wei-shidi’s cultivation lends itself to rapid, short bursts. He would not last long enough to carve the sigil in a single stream,” Mu Qingfang stated next to him, a stern edge to his voice that Shen Jiu found he could appreciate when it wasn’t directed at himself. “This Shixiong will not approve the replacement.”

            The two of them bickered back and forth, but Shen Jiu merely tuned out and fed the large wooden meditation beads through his fingers. There were exactly thirty-six of them, and the counting served to help his anxious mind.

            Luo Binghe was coming. The little wolf he had tried to put down was at last come for the herd, their shepherd clutched in his jaws. The rest of his whole life depended on this one moment. He would not react- would not show fear. If Luo Binghe was half of what Yuan-di had claimed, he would know at the slightest tell that Wu Fangbei was not who he claimed, and if he suspected Shen Jiu lived, he would not hesitate to change course, abandoning the body entirely.

            Such were the supposed perceptions of a worldly protagonist.

            That could not be allowed to happen. His mask could not fail him now…

            “Zhangmen shixiong,” the forge master tried, drawing his attention back, turning as the missing member of their company arrived at the foot of Qiong Ding. “Surely you will agree with me that Liu-shixiong should go now? I will stay.”

            “Your qi cannot sustain,” Mu Qingfang argued again.

            “I understand your intentions,” Yue Qingyuan interjected in that placating tone that once drove him mad. “But Master Wu has already set the arrays, and Mu shidi makes a fair point. Besides, we will need you to keep Hong Jing contained if it reacts to Luo Binghe.”

            “He is not coming!”

            “It is not yet sunset,” Shen Jiu signed with a slight hum to draw eyes back to his hands. “He has not yet broken the agreement. Do not cause problems in your haste. Through a slow, even tempering are the strongest steels made.”

            “Do not lecture me on the art of steel! If Shen Qingqiu were alive he would demand-!”

            “Shizun does not appreciate it when others speak for him,” came the interruption, the sound distorted slightly as it emanated from a jagged, shadowed divide that had suddenly appeared in the fabric of the world.

            “This one recommends Lord Wei remember his place as a shidi,” Luo Binghe continued, just as the sun kissed the horizon between two smaller mountains in the distance. “Before he has to be reminded in less pleasing ways.”

            Shen Jiu did not care about the disrespect shown to his shidi, or the fact that the demon had come with a desert flower in red and a wall of an ice giant as his presumed attendants.

            No, he only had eyes for the body cradled carefully in the demon’s arms, as though it were merely a sleeping child.

            There was a softness to the face that had never come when it was worn by Shen Jiu. It was something he had only been made aware was even possible once he saw it carried by Shen Yuan.

            Shen Yuan…

            “Bring him closer, so he may be examined,” he ordered, dimly aware of Yue Qingyuan acting as his translator for the others. Each peak lord had managed to learn enough such things were no longer needed for them. “This Fangbei will assure all present.”

            “I was informed he would be attended by Mu Qingfang,” Luo Binghe said, his eyes narrowing. “I do not know you, nor do you hold my trust.”

            “I will not harm him, you have my word.”

            “Does Sect Leader Yue vouch for this stranger?” the young half-demon asked, turning to the older lord.

            “Your master showed great kindness to Master Wu in years past, and from it they formed a great and admirable bond. He wishes only to return the assistance he was once given. This I swear is truth, or may the Heaven’s strike me down.”

            Luo Binghe seemed to pause, as though he truly expected a flash of lightning to erupt from the sky before stepping forward. “Respect his person or I will dismember you.”

            “You will be hard pressed to find any more committed to his respect than I,” he signed, trying to force the phantom feeling of his limbs being ripped from his body out of his mind. Yuan-di was finally coming home, and he could not afford to be distracted by events that had yet to come to pass. That would not come to pass. “Hold him steady.”

            He slipped his beads over his wrist, pressing a gloved fingertip against the pulse point hiding in the curve of the corpse’s wrist, feeding qi through the leather and into the waiting meridians beyond, he cycled a few times before pulling back.

            “What method did you use to rebuild his pathways?”

            “Master Wu need not concern himself with specifics,” Luo Binghe said haughtily. “Shizun’s meridians are fine enough to hold power.”

            “You will tell this Master, or you will leave. I will not risk his safety during the rite for the tantrums of an overgrown child. What did you do to rebuild his pathways?”

            “You dare-!:” Luo Binghe’s eyes flashed a bright, crimson red.

            “If they are being held together by your demonic qi, the rite will destroy them and he will die as soon as he lives, and all will be lost. Now answer me. What method was used?”

            The demon lord seemed to stagger, a sharp breath cutting through the air between them. “This Lord first aligned them through the use of his blood, and later sealed them together with the same. Each day after the seals have been slowly replaced with spiritual qi, in the hopes it would encourage Shizun’s soul to return.”

            The visage of Wu Fangbei resumed its thoughtful, meditative pose, the front of his veil angled low as he bowed his head in consideration. “Do any of the original demonic seals remain?”

            “No. The last was replaced some years ago. Now only the blood remains active.”

            “You will have to remove it before we begin. It will be the last preparation before we enter the ritual site.”

            “Why should I trust you?”

            “If you are so incapable of faith, you should not have come at all.” He waved one of his asymmetrical sleeves, gesturing towards the Qian Cao lord. “Turn his care to Peak Lord Mu, so he may begin the preparations.”

            “I trust Lord Mu remembers this Lord’s warnings from when last we met?” the demon asked.

            “As through this humble immortal could forget such colorful descriptions,” Mu Qingfang sniffed, gesturing for his head disciple to approach with a carrying team. “Rest assured, I have no intention of causing Shen-shixiong trouble.”

            Shen Jiu watched through the soft haze of the veil as the corpse was lowered carefully, almost reverently, onto the cot, the demon pausing to brush back a stray strand of the loose bangs away from the face.

            “Then this Lord will trouble Mu-shishu with Shizun’s care for a time.”

            There was silence for a moment as the group of Qian Cao disciples carried the body away, Mu Qingfang at its side, with a thread of qi connecting them at the wrist.

            “All will be well, Luo-shizhi,” Yue Qingyuan said by his side, drawing his attention back to where the demon lord already seemed to be fretting.

            Shen Jiu hummed, waiting for the sound to bring Yue Qi’s eyes back to him. “He needs instructions, still. Handle the sword and we will proceed with the final preparations.”

            “Of course,” Yue Qingyuan agreed, turning back. “The matter of Xin Mo needs to be addressed before we continue. If your attendants have any spiritual weapons, we ask that they commit to the same security measures.”

            “That will not be necessary,” Luo Binghe stated, removing the black scabbard from his belt and holding it for a long moment.

            Just as he felt they might be hitting a very early obstacle in the plan, Luo Binghe heaved a terrible sigh. “All for the benefit of one’s beloved person,” he said, seemingly to himself as he drew a pouch from his lapel.

            The very sword itself seemed to flair with demonic qi, rattling in its sheath and oozing waves of dark miasma as Luo Binghe smoothed a piece of talisman paper over the flat of the scabbard and dropped it into the waiting maw of the qainkun bag. The form of the fabric seemed to ripple for a moment, two forms of power straining against the seals of one another for a moment before it stilled, and Luo Binghe dutifully knotted the strings.

            “To go back on your word now would be shaming the whole of your people,” Luo Binghe said darkly, an intensity to his eyes that had never hidden there as a small child, but still haunted Shen Jiu’s nightmares.

            “This is a path we all will walk together,” Yue Qi said, turning to gesture up the path. “Please, come. These Masters will show you what could not be explained at our last conjecture.”

            Yue Qingyuan began to walk, and Shen Jiu allowed the demons to pass by before following behind the group, silent as he listened to his lover explain some of the steps they had taken to ensure success.

            “I did not think in any life that I would find not only myself corroborating with demons, but the whole of the sect as well,” he thought to himself as he watched Luo Binghe soak up every bit of information Yue Qingyuan was giving. “Though many did not like the idea. But in the end, they were willing to agree if it meant he could come home. I suppose that must be enough.”

            He clapped his hands together twice, signaling to Yue Qingyuan that he had something to say. “Do not forget about the qi binding. He will need time to flush his meridians.”

            “Of course, Fangbei, you are right,” his lover nodded, turning to relay the information with all its attending details for the whys and hows.

            Seeing Yue Qingyuan put such effort into the cause truly made his heart thunder, even as he felt like he was laying on a bed of poisoned needles.

            “Just a little longer now, Yuan-di. Just a little bit more, and your Jiu-ge will help bring you home…”

***

            “This Lord has questions,” Luo Binghe said with little preamble sometime later, approaching where Shen Jiu hid under the mask of Wu Fangbei in a meditative pose on the edge of the ritual site. “Master Wu would be kind to enlighten this one, in private if he could.”

            Shen Jiu made a point of tilting his head, the cant of his weimao and veil projecting a questioning aura as he presses his palms open and closed as if to say ‘how do you intend to ask if you cannot understand me?’

            “This Lord was once a disciple of Qing Jing Peak. My master saw fit to encourage us to learn many things, and among the offered lessons, the speech of hands was included. Which is, conveniently, one of my questions. This Lord is informed that Master Wu comes from the borderlands near the north, but he speaks using the local signs. Why is that?”

            The eloquence and smile on his lips did little but unnerve Shen Jiu, too pointed to be honest, but he nevertheless answered as he and Yue Qi had agreed. “When one comes to a new region, it would be foolish to demand others bend to their native natures. I am a guest of Sect Leader Yue. It is only right that I should know his region’s dialect to show respect. Besides, I too was taught the way of Qing Jing.”

            In truth, he could have learned more of the northern style, but he and Yue Qingyuan had felt it efficient enough to learn a few of the similar quirks to “accidentally” slip in on occasion to trip up anyone who understood. The variants as a whole were very similar in cadence, so it was not too difficult to believe.

            “You were taught on Qing Jing?” Luo Binghe looked at him, eyes narrowed. “I never heard of you.”

            “You would not have. I did not come to this region until after your master had passed. But he taught me in those days where we traveled together for a time, and invited me to visit him here one day. It is unfortunate that our reunion should only arrive after his death.”

            “You met Shizun while I was not here then.”

            “Correct. There are a great many answers Lord Luo has missed in his absence. I will allow your master to give them to you, as is his right. In the meantime, Luo Binghe should center his mind and body for the trial ahead. If your remaining questions are not about the ceremony, wait to ask them.”

            Luo Binghe seemed to watch him as he returned to his faux meditation, the nervous energy under his skin too great to truly lose himself to the energy of the world. “Buy it,” he thought desperately. “Be a fool for your master and buy it.”

            “Very well,” Luo Binghe finally acquiesced. “But I am sure Shizun will have much to say to someone who is so dear a friend as to receive a personal invitation. Naturally I will be happy to attend.”

            Shen Jiu gave all his will to keep the trepidation from sounding as he hummed an acknowledgement, fighting the urge to sigh in relief as Luo Binghe stepped away to inspect the rest of the ritual grounds.

            It had been no small matter to craft, and Shen Jiu preened slightly each time someone stepped through the entrance to see what he had created.

            The area was concealed by a ring of smooth, gray stones. At equal intervals along the walls, the tributary seals were painted, waiting to be carved, and between them danced arrays of spells powerful enough to make even Gao Qinggao dizzy with the intricacy. The ground, too, was woven with sigils, the lines running along stone bridges that arched over water that had rested in the Lingxi Caves for over a year and a half, absorbing ambient spiritual power to the point that it shimmered with qi.

            And there, in the center, was the altar upon with the body would rest, each long line of power culminating in an array around the base that would imbue the resting corpse with a soul, if all went as Shen Jiu prayed it would.

            In just a few short hours, Shen Yuan would either awaken, or the world would burn to meet him.

            It seemed Luo Binghe had similar thoughts, Shen Jiu watching as the demon placed a reverent hand on the surface of the raised stone.

            Perhaps not all their similarities were bad ones.

***

            The night passed slowly, with the sun fading from view to pass its mantel to the stars. Shen Jiu sat just beyond the place they would convene for final preparations, the group of them agreeing to stay out of view of the ritual site after its final cleansing to ensure no wayward energies were accidentally imparted unto the stone.

            Lin Qingshui knelt nearby, watching the alignments of the heavens and measuring the frequencies of yin and yang as they threaded through the earth.

            “It is nearly time,” they said, the small lantern staked near them flickering in the breeze. “I can see Mu-shixiong coming up the path now.”

            “Remember,” he could hear Yue Qingyuan instruct the demon lord who had lingered in their midst. “Once you remove the blood, you must keep your demonic aura completely sealed, or the magic will turn and harm you both. Your master is depending on your control.”

            “I need no reminder,” Luo Binghe said as the flickering light of Mu Qingfang’s processional began to creep up the path.

            “Wu Qianbei?” came a familiar call, Shen Jiu smiling under his veil as Ning Yingying emerged from the shadows on the other side of the small clearing, Ming Fan trailing behind her. “Our shixiongs have all attuned to the tones and are prepared whenever Shizun is ready.”

            “Very good,” he signed, rising easily and smoothing out his asymmetrical sleeves. “Wait for the signal, and then begin. We will be ready shortly.”

            “Of course, Wu Qianbei,” his disciples answered, bowing as they took their leave.

            “We wait only for Shang-shidi and Liu-shidi’s arrival,” Yue Qingyuan said, taking up a post at his shoulder as he joined the group of elders. “Are you prepared?”

            “All I can do has been done,” he answered. “It will have to be enough.”

            Just then, Mu Qingfang’s group rounded the last bend in the path, the body of Shen Qingqiu laid out in plain, white robes carried on a stretcher between the four attendants. It remained much the same, aside from the slight dampness of the hair that had been washed along with the rest of it, and the change of clothing. The scent of sage clung heavily to the air around them.

            “Luo Binghe,” Mu Qingfang said as they came to a halt. “You may remove the blood now. I will perform a final cleansing once it is done.”

            The demon stepped forward, and Shen Jiu watched through the thin haze of white that obscured him as a clawed hand slowly waved over the body, pulling up as it neared the head. As the demon’s fingers pulled away from the corpse’s mouth, a thin stream of dark red liquid followed like a string, slipping between lax lips.

            “Is that all?”

            “Do you doubt my skill?”

            “I doubt your willingness to comply,” Mu Qingfang said with a twitch of his mustache as he lit a bundle of herbs infused with his qi and began the final sweep to remove demonic energy.

            “We are here,” came the call before the two could devolve into more squabbling and damage the feng shui. Shen Jiu looked up slightly, watching Liu Qingge and Shang Qinghua arrive on their swords. “Are we waiting on anyone else?”

            “The disciples are in place and all our tributaries have arrived,” Shen Jiu signed with a hum. “Once Lord Lin perceives the honored hour, all will be prepared.”

            “My friends,” Yue Qingyuan addressed the newest arrivals. “Thank you for being on time.”

            “We wouldn’t be the ones to muck it up,” Shang Qinghua said, swirling his flask but keeping it closed. “Shen-bro is counting on us, after all.”

            “Indeed.” A seriousness settled over the sect leader’s face then. “However, what we are attempting to do has never been done before. The demands on your spirits will be great, and the possibilities for danger are many. If any of you have doubts, now is the time to voice them. Once the rite has begun, we will not have the option to leave.”

            “We are with you until the end, Zhangmen-shixiong,” Mu Qingfang declared, the others nodding in agreement. “Risk is part of great rewards.”

            “The hour is arriving,” Lin Qingshui announced suddenly, their face turned towards the heavens as they sensed the alignments.

            “Very well then,” Shen Jiu signed. “Bring the body to the altar. Let us begin.”

Chapter Text

            The stones’ smooth surface gleamed under the bright light of the moon, the shadows catching in the grooves that Shen Jiu had meticulously traced and carved with painstaking detail. The air weighed heavy as their group took the last few available moments to center themselves, Luo Binghe giving his final instructions to his attendants outside before Mu Qingfang led the procession through the single entrance and placed the body on the altar in the center.

            “Its time,” he thought, steeling himself with a breath as he crossed along the outer edge of the ring to reach the large spirit stone he would carve during the rite. “I can only hope that it will be enough.”

            He watched through his veil as the others took their places. Moonlight danced with the qi under the bridges as each tributary settled at their place, Mu Qingfang and his four disciples leaping effortlessly up to the ledge that protruded from the top of the ring to observe in case any one of them should succumb to the strain.

            “Signal the disciples,” Yue Qingyuan called, giving Shen Jiu a look as they each took their places. “Keep the count in check, Master Wu. If one begins too early or too late it will dampen the effects.”

            “Five stones, with six arrays, each imbued nine times,” Shen Jiu recited to himself, watching the others. “We will start with Liu Qingge, and progress in the flow pattern from there. It can be done. It will be done!”

            Mu Qingfang passed the order, and on the outside of the wall, Shen Jiu could hear Lin Qingshui ring the notifying bell, and soon after, the steady thump-da-da-dum of the ritual drum picked up. It was quiet at first, as the Zhi Ji peak lord set the correct pace, but after three repetitions, the deeper voices of the large drums set up on the overlooking bluff began to join.

            Qing Jing was the peak of scholars, and mastery of the four arts. Its students had been far too insistent to assist in the return of their master to be forbidden from the act entirely, especially once it had been announced that an attempt would be made by the Sect Leader himself. While only Luo Binghe was permitted within the ring of stone, the rest of his former cohort (or at least those to whom Shen Yuan had managed to impart any lessons of skill) were set up around the outside in spots where the flow of energy would naturally gravitate towards the sigils, helping to produce ambient power while the tributaries focused on more specific requirements.

            It made his hardened heart proud as the sound swelled, the chime of bells and the ting of guqin strings joining in tightly controlled harmonies. Shen Yuan would be moved to learn of it, surely. To play at a steady pace for such a long time was already a feat, not to mention the regulation of qi being passed through the music.

            As he meticulously counted the repetitions, he turned his attention to where Liu Qingge watched him. In the quiet beat before the new line of drumming began, Shen Jiu made his cue, a sharp nod of his veil, and the war god turned with the down beat, the spark of qi igniting at the base of the stone, enough power behind the direction to leave the taste of iron on the air.

            “First array, first imbuing,” Shen Jiu tracked, slightly tapping the tips of his right thumb and pinky together in time with the steady beat. “Second array… third… fourth… fifth… sixth… first array, second imbuing…”

            He continued to count each step, watching as the thin line of silver qi consumed the ink guides, gently pulsing in time with the beat, each imbuing causing it to burn ever brighter. While the overall rhythm was fairly intense, each line was long. As a result, each imbuing took a fair amount of time, and by the time Liu Qingge had reached the ninth, the moon overhead had shifted with the stars.

            On the next beat, he signaled Shang Qinghua, the mouse of a man turning to begin his first repetition as Liu Qingge carefully stepped back from his stone, the pulse of his qi following through the channels on the ground as he pulled it over the bridge, the silver qi catching in the water below as he moved to hold the energy in the ring of runes corresponding with the altar.

            “The first tributary is complete,” Shen Jiu thought as he watched, thin lines of silver leaking into the main array. “No issues so far…”

            Halfway through the sixth iteration of his yellow qi carving, Shang Qinghua began to look somewhat pale, but he only lagged slightly, and Shen Jiu could see the moment he took a deep breath and pushed past whatever obstructed him, becoming steady once more.

            In truth, he’d had reservations in allowing the An Ding lord to join them. While it was true that he was counted among one of Shen Yuan’s closest confidants, his qi manipulation left some things to be desired. Hence why he’d been banished with Liu Qingge to the spirit caves for the last two weeks.

            Those two would be sustaining qi the longest, even if it was at a relatively low level compared to the other three who would come after. If they sputtered out halfway through, there was no telling what might happen to their results. The qi was being bound carefully- these sorts of spells could cause untold damage to the surrounding area if they were suddenly warped. Hence why they couldn’t all just pour into it at once- they’d probably level the whole mountain range if things went sideways.

            Refusing to dwell on the possibility of catastrophic failure, Shen Jiu turned to his next biggest concern.

            It was Luo Binghe’s turn to carve.

            The little beast his didi had turned into a house pet regarded him with deep, dark eyes. It made something between his shoulder blades tense, but he gave the cue as it was due, and the monster turned with precise movements, the smoldering spark of red igniting at the base of the stone, following strokes of ink upwards. Still, trepidation filled his heart as he watched the half-demon go through each array, the burning scent of his qi mingling thick on the air with the metallic ting of Qingge’s and the bright, earthy scent of Shang Qinghua’s.

            “Do this for me, do it correctly, and I will be civil for all my days,” Shen Jiu silently vowed, his palms starting to itch as he counted each spell, each repetition, until red qi was trailing over the bridge and Yue Qingyuan turned, the sharp scent of lightning cutting through as a well of qi was opened.

            He had not been present when Tianlang-Jun had been sealed beneath Bailu Mountain, nor had his lover ever had another reason to display such power since. It shook him, somewhat, to feel the way the might of it rippled against the earth, making waves in the water and scattering the dust that had settled in the nooks of the ring. He had always known he was strong, of course, but…

            Yue Qi, he realized with a slight flush, was obscenely powerful.

            The moon kissed the horizon, the sky dim around it’s pale face, even as the night began to lighten on the other side.

            “Its nearly dawn,” he thought, counting still as the air itself began to shimmer with power. “We have to finish before the moon sets completely, or the energies will be out of balance.”

            He could not order the tempo to increase, he wasn’t even sure it would have a positive effect even if he could. So he simply held fast, counting out the last of the heavy beats until he, too, reached down into that well inside him- carved deeper by his Yuan-di’s sacrifice- and pulled on the cocoon of energy held there until it sparked to life- cutting through as a bright green sting with the scent of soil and rain.

            “I will not fail,” he repeated to himself as he worked through the sigils and slowly drew himself back over the bridge.

            As his knees met the carved stone beneath him, the beating drew heavy, the qi in the area hanging so heavily it was nearly suffocating. While the carvings had been the most time intensive part- they then had reached the most important.

            The actual calling of the spirit.

            While the design of the ritual site had been made with every advantage to thin the distance between the waking world and the nether realms, the stones themselves could not call out for Shen Yuan, only direct the energies towards the waiting vessel while making sure that no wayward souls were able to creep in and steal it away.

            Every inch had been annotated and oriented to make it all but impossible for any being other than the intended one to rise. They just had to give him a way to get there.

            He had made sure Yue Qingyuan was very specific in his instructions. It was important that those tributaries not in the know did not accidentally conflate their calls for Shen Qingqiu with calls for Shen Jiu and therefore had been given a set of criterial to uphold.

            The more recent the memory- the better. The stronger the feeling- the more powerful the bridge. The more intimate the memory- the more likely it would be able to sway the soul.

            They had not asked what the others would envision. It was not his concern. All Shen Jiu could fathom as he pressed every iota of his will into the spells was the beat of another heart in tandem with his own.

            Waking in his bed, with another wrapped warm and comforting around him for the first time in decades.

            The exhilaration of chasing one another along the rooftop as they sparred.

            The sight of stars glinting overhead as Yuan told his adventures of life as Shen Qingqiu.

            The tender notes of Kiss the Rain coming from the piano as he painted.

            Shen Yuan singing to him softly on nights where he couldn’t settle.

            The terrible jokes, the odd stories, the insistence to play some game or discuss a random book.

            The way he would dress, the way his eyes crinkled as he laughed. The way he would pout when he didn’t get his way, and the softness he somehow managed to share with a prickly immortal he insisted on calling brother.

            His Yuan-di.

            Every memory, kept bright by his remembrance and reverence. Burned into his mind in the only willing scar he’d ever bear.

            “Shen Yuan… didi… Come home.”

            The air was changing, he could feel it as the wind picked up and tore at his veil, intangible fingers desperately trying to lift it against the weights that held it down. He closed his eyes.

            “Let it howl,” he thought, redoubling the efforts of his qi, feeling it pour from his meridians like an ocean, nearly overwhelming to the point where his senses no longer registered the others doing the same. “Let the water rise and the earth quake and the stars fall from the heavens! I don’t care, as long as it ends with you. As long as it ends with us.”

            With all his might, Shen Jiu poured his very self into the channels, carved with his own two hands, and hoped.

            “Please,” he breathed against the scarf covering his mouth, reaching out to any god that would listen over the gale around him. “Just this once, please, let me succeed. For him.”

            All at once, the thread snapped.

            The ambient qi in the air flashed outwards, knocking the five of them onto their backs. Just as quickly, it made to return, pulling them forward with a shrill sound as it cut through the air and a bright, white flash left Shen Jiu laid out and panting, stunned, on the ground.

            The silence that followed seemed to ring out for eons.

            After another second, he realized that the ringing was actually coming from his ears, the sound of Mu Qingfang frantically shouting slowly filtering in through the haze as he crawled over to where the body laid.

            “Please,” he whispered, pushing aside the high collar to feel along the underside of the jaw for a pulse, threading a weak line of qi through the meridians underneath.

            “Did it work?” Yue Qingyuan asked, appearing by his side with blood dripping thickly from his nose.

            “Please,” Shen Jiu begged again, his voice hardly more than a broken croak as he pressed harder in the search for something. Anything. “Please. Pleasepleaseplease…”

            It had to have worked… It had to have! He’d been so careful! He checked everything, and everyone, and it had all the right lines, all the right spells. It was a masterpiece. He’d made it perfect. It HAD to have worked!

            “Shizun?” Luo Binghe called out somewhere in the background. Shen Jiu had little care for the others, even the dog.

            “Yuan-di,” he keened, something hot and wet pushing against his lashes. “Wake up…”

            His hands found their way to soft, dark hair, brushing it back from where the winds had left it askew. Gently, he continued to trace the curve of it, tucking the head up under his chin, the veil pressed between them. Surely… any moment he would wake. He just… he needed a moment, surely.

            There was so much feeling welling up all at once, surely it would overwhelm his soft-hearted brother. He had to do something… something to make him feel safe enough to open his eyes again…

            “You fill up my senses,” Shen Jiu started to lilt quietly, recalling the soft, compelling lyrics the younger man had once shared with him.“Like a night in a forest… Like the mountains in springtime… Like a walk in the rain… Come let me love you…”

            His voice cracked suddenly, and he could not stop the tears that finally began to fall.

            “Please wake up,” he begged once more, holding tighter.

            “Come love me again…” he could almost hear on the breeze, and a feeling of pure, unadulterated warmth seemed to seep into his bones.

            The body in his grasp suddenly jerked, a deep breath sucking in.

            Shen Jiu reeled back, his hands finding their way to the other’s face, his thumbs tracing just under his eyes. “Yuan?”

            A weak groan answered him, a slight twitch to the thin brows.

            “He’s alive,” he whispered, feeling his lips struggle to keep his smile from ripping through the corners as his heart soared.

            “Mu Qingfang!” he heard Yue Qi call from right behind him, his hand warm on the younger lord’s back. “Come, quickly!”

            Hands were on him, tugging him back, and he whined.

            “He needs space to work,” Yue Qi whispered in his ear, pulling him close. “It’s alright. We’ll stay right here. Just here.”

            “You called him the wrong name.”

            Luo Binghe’s voice cut through the haze of joy surrounding Shen Jiu’s mind, and he turned to regard the half blood through the cover of his veil, suddenly grateful no one had been able to actually see his tears.

            “My Shizun’s personal name is Shen Jiu,” the demon continued, his gaze calculating as he watched the scene before him.

            “Answers are coming, Luo-shizhi,” Yue Qingyuan assured from his place by Shen Jiu’s side. “Please, just be patient a little bit longer as we ensure he is well.”

            “Everything about this has been strange,” the boy continued. “I agreed for Shizun’s sake, and have done all that you asked. I think I have waited long enough!”

            “Luo Binghe…”

            “Why does he get to be the one to welcome Shizun?” An angry finger zeroed in on Shen Jiu. “A mysterious cultivator who claims to know him, but who none of us have ever heard mention of before? Where has he been all these years if they were so close? In all my years by his side, Wu Fangbei was never mentioned!”

            “Junshang,” Shang Qinghua called, a serious tone to his voice. “This is not a conversation you should be having without Shen-shixiong’s input.”

            “Oh, and yet another magnanimous brother come to defend the secrets!”

            “Luo Binghe, compel yourself!” Liu Qingge scowled. “Is this how you want to greet him?”

            Before the argument could devolve further, there was a bright flash of green over the cedar trees outside the ring of stone, flashing with a loud boom! in the pre-dawn light. Silence instantly cut through the group.

            “What was that?” Shen Jiu whispered, dread settling somewhere deep in his gut as a wave of energy washed over the area, so heavy it felt like he would be pressed into the ground by its malignant and dangerous aura. He knew that feeling…

            “Qiong Ding’s demon repelling barrier has been broken,” Yue Qingyuan said dumbly, watching with him as the green light rained down over the peak, and the ringing of the alarm gongs began to sound.

            Almost as one, all available eyes turned to Luo Binghe.

Chapter Text

“This one has not broken his agreement,” Luo Binghe said, a snarl on his lips at the silent accusation. “If demons have come, they do so without my permission!”

            “Where are your subordinates?” Liu Qingge demanded.

            “They have been with me the whole duration, as agreed, Liu-shixiong,” Ling Qingshui called as they entered the ring, the two demons in tow. “Our guests have abided by the pact.”

            “Liu Shidi,” Yue Qingyuan called, “are you able to fight?”

            Shen Jiu looked over the other man, noting the slight tremors that hid where he gripped the hilt of his sword.

            “I’ll be fine,” the war god declared, his voice steady when his hand was not. Before anyone could inquire further, the man turned, quickly leaving the ring of stones.

            “He’s going on foot,” Shen Jiu murmured to the sect leader under his veil as the remainders began to argue once more. “He’s tired. I will go with him, and take the others with me.”

            “I will go,” Yue Qi began, only to cut off with a hiss as the second lord’s nails dug into his arm.

            “You will do no such thing,” Shen Jiu ordered. “You have spent much of your qi, and Shen Yuan cannot be left alone. If there is a true fight, you are not able to draw Xuan Su like this.”

            “My auxiliary sword-!”

            “Will be useless if my fears are proven correct,” Shen Jiu insisted, his skin crawling with the feeling of a familiar, oppressive force that had haunted him for years. “You will stay here. You will protect him. And if the worst should come-“

            “A-Jiu, please-!”

            “If the worst should come, you will ensure that he is cared for in my stead. Promise this to me, Qi-ge. You will not leave his side.”

            Yue Qi looked at him, eyes pleading, but Shen Jiu steeled his heart. He had not sustained his qi as long as the others during the rite, even if he had poured a great deal into the arrays. Even then, the power that his new body possessed was unlike any other he had ever witnessed. Even in that moment, after so much expenditure, he felt steady and strong, the edges of his qi barely disturbed by the fact that he had just brought a soul from another realm.

            “It’s time for this to end,” Shen Jiu said, straightening. “Leave the interlopers to us. I’ll even let the little mutt help if he’s so desperate to prove himself.”

            Yue Qingyuan regarded him for another moment before nodding, drawing up to his full height and putting on the voice he used when instructing unruly disciples.

            “Enough,” he called over the din, stepping forward as the others ceased their arguments to look at him, Shen Jiu hidden behind his shoulder. “There is no time for squabbling. Lin Shidi will remain here with me to watch over Shen Shidi- the rest of you will go with Wu Fangbei to address the barriers.”

            “You order our Lord?” the demoness in red asked, her lips curled back. “This Sha Hualing does not take commands from human men.”

            “If these demons do not come under your command, then put them back in their places,” Yue Qingyuan said to Luo Binghe, ignoring his attendant’s barbed words. “I will not be offended if Luo-shizhi feels it necessary to draw his sword and use force, provided it does not harm our own.”

            Luo Binghe was already reaching for the pouch hidden in his lapels. “Any who would dare disturb Shizun’s recovery are undeserving of mercy, Sect Leader Yue. In this, we are agreed.”

            Shen Jiu made to lead the way out, only to have his arm caught by the sect leader. He looked back with a tilt of his veil.

            “Be careful,” Yue Qingyuan ordered seriously. “He will want to see you.”

            Shen Jiu was too close to the others now to risk whispering, so he merely nodded, straightening as he was released. With a flick of his asymmetrical sleeves, he turned and began to run. The cedar trees of Qiong Ding rushed by in a blur, the racing steps of his cohort thundered against the ground as they wound down the pathways, until the main platform of the peak came into view, still a ways below them.

            Unbidden, a sense of nausea and Déjà vu rushed over him at the sight.

            There was a colorful hoard donned in leathers and spikes, wreathed by the red and yellow of young flames, pushing forward as a mass up the main reception street. The somber blacks of Qiong Ding could be seen, as well as a plethora of others racing in on swords, fighting back with great fury and skill.

            “It is not that place, and it is not that time,” Shen Jiu thought to himself, trying to steady as they continued their decent. “That was a nightmare. Shen Yuan has tamed the mutt, and he will never raise a hand against what he holds dear. It is not the same…”

            But still, that ever-closer feeling of horror pressed against him- the darkness that spoke of a promise to bring doom upon all the world.

            Ahead, Liu Qingge was swinging his blade viciously, corpses piling up around him. But he did not have time to stop and appreciate the benefit of having him on the same side, for once, although it did help to distance his mind from the visions that haunted him. Liu Qingge was alive. Luo Binghe stood with Cang Qiong. No matter his nightmares, things were different now.

            Between one stride and the next, the forerunners of the demonic mass were upon them, and he took a deep breath, sending out a powerful qi blast down the path. The power threw several of them back, one even rending at the shoulder with a dull thump as it landed, slowly rolling down the incline and off the lip of the overhang to the plane below.

            Taking the chance to offer aid to several struggling hall masters, Shen Jiu lashed out again, the bright flare of his qi pushing off the offenders and allowing the adults to sweep up their small charges, fleeing towards the back hills. He did not miss the way they gaped at Luo Binghe and his two generals.

            “Mobei-Jun!” Said demonic emperor called as Xin Mo was released. “You and Sha Hualing help the elders and the children get out of the classrooms and back to the caves!”

            “No!” Shang Qinghua cried back. “There’s no way out once they get inside. Take them up the ridge. If we fail, they can try to evacuate by sword.”

            “The ridge, then,” Luo Binghe acquiesced, his blade biting through a wayward demon’s neck in a bloody arc. “I will call for you if you are needed here.”

            Just then, a massive wave of demonic qi rocked up the path, spraying stone and debris with its force, and Shen Jiu had to throw up an arm to shield himself, hissing as a stray shard of masonry ripped through the edge of his veil to slice his cheek and ear.

            “My, my, my! Well isn’t this an interesting group!” The wave of qi parted, and a handsome demon came forth, his robes hanging from his shoulders and a mess of luscious curls framing his face.

            And there, in the center of his forehead, blazed a bright red huadian, identical in size and shape to another particular notable person present. A demon in green trailed after him, vibrant scales dancing over his cheeks giving him an air of youth, in spite of the frown tugging at his lips.

            “What do we have here?” The Heavenly Demon asked, a purring lilt to his voice as he zeroed in on Shen Jiu. “Are you the one up here showing off your qi reserves? After that little show up the way, I would think you’d be a bit more tired than that. Do pardon us for dropping by unannounced, you seemed rather busy though.”

            “Oh shit,” he heard Shang Qinghua whisper beside him.

            “And who is this?” The demon continued, his gaze shifting to his brother’s pet hellspawn. “It seems that this poor old man just gets luckier and luckier. Yesterday I was alone in the world, save my nephew here, and now I find myself not only the father of a great Lord Emperor, but of two at that! How lucky I am indeed!”

            “This Luo Binghe has no father, nor a brother!” the demon lord declared, Xin Mo leveled evenly across the distance between them. “The demon realm answers to me, alone. Stand down, now!”

            “Oh, an unfilial little thing, aren’t you?” The elder demon smiled, too many teeth showing for the charismatic expression to be taken as purely friendly. “You know, your brother at least pretended to care about this old man, even if it was just to get me to agree to his little endeavor here. Ah, oh well, such is the way of thing I suppose. Oh son of mine!” he called over his shoulder. “I think I’ve found your person of interest!”

            Shen Jiu kept his head angled low, trying to keep the slit in his veil narrowed as he glared at the interloper, only to feel himself pale as another wave of demonic power flushed over the area, and a ripple shimmered on the air before him.

            It cracked, the fabric of the world rending around it as it twisted in on itself, revealing swaths of darkness and an aura that made the very air around him sink like iron.

            “It’s him. The Beast,” Shen Jiu said to himself, only registering that he had spoken aloud when the Luo Binghe to his side stiffened, his red gaze cutting to him at once.

            The form that stepped through the portal had the same face, but the similarities overall ended there. Cruelty graced his featured, the abundant waves of his dark, glossy hair pulled back into an intricate guan, with his robes of pure black offset by the slightest thread of red. Compared to the aura of the mutt with the white outer robes of the Huan Hua Palace Master, it was like comparing a dragon to a newborn chick.

            “I see things are off to a promising start,” the Beast said, his smile sharp and predatory. “Where is Shizun? I greatly desire to speak with him.”

            “You are not welcomed here!” Luo Qingge yelled, brandishing Cheng Luan. Shen Jiu had to give him a point for not falling dumbstruck at the appearance of the double, at least.

            “Clearly, I am,” came the response, the creature waving towards his counterpart.

            “Your Shen Qingqiu did us quite the favor,” the eldest of the heavenly demons said, crossing his arms with a grin. “It’s only fair he should be repaid, right? The whole of the realm seems like a fair enough place to start, after we mete out the proper greeting to the rest of you. It’s been so long since we all got together like this after all. Where is that dear little Sect Leader of yours, hm?”

            “You wish for Shen Qingqiu? Fine.” Shen Jiu raised his head, reaching up to pull away the weimao veil and toss it behind him, stepping forward and drawing Xiu Ya from its hiding place in his sleeve as he ignored the exclamations around him. “I am here, and order you to leave.”

            “But…” he heard Liu Qingge trail off in confusion.

            The Beast seemed to regard him, making his skin crawl under the gaze. “You seem very cold, Shizun.”

            “You have no right to warmth, Beast,” Shen Jiu hissed, drawing his blade.

            “I would give you great honors,” the Beast said, his voice going sweet. “You cannot fathom the riches I would crown you with.”

            “Oh, this master remembers plenty of how Luo Binghe would repay him,” Shen Jiu hissed. “I have no interest in repeating your bloodthirsty thanks.”

            For the first time since the encounter began, Shen Jiu saw a flash of trepidation on the other’s face, a dark satisfaction welling up within him.

            “I see,” the Beast finally said, his features hardening once more. “So it seems this world also holds no hope for you. A pity. After so many, I had hoped to be done with it, but it seems like that fate is not to be, here.” Xin Mo vibrated in the air, radiating demonic power. “I guess there’s nothing left to do here except kill you, then.”

            “Shizun?” Luo Binghe asked, watching him with a wary gaze.

            “This Master thought Luo Binghe would pay closer attention,” Shen Qingqiu snipped haughtily. “Think on what you’ve done today, and see at the end if you’re still so useless!”

            Without another word, the informal armistice was suddenly over, and Shen Qingqiu raised his spiritual blade to part a strike from the demonic sword, knocking it away.

            He had dreamed of his battles, before Shen Yuan came. It had felt so much stronger then, when the black edge of its blade pressed him down into the earth as his peak had burned around him. He had been able to do nothing, in the end, captured and bound, forced to watch his hated home burn as he was swept away to the underground prison that would become his tomb.

            Now, while each strike from Xin Mo left his teeth clenched and every step he made to evade and strike back was matched, the Beast also seemed to struggle as their companions joined their fray. Cang Qiong may not have been perfect, or even kind to him, but it was his home- and there were still things there worth fighting for.

            “Shizun has gotten much stronger than this Emperor remembers,” the Beast said with a snarled smirk, their swords locked at the guard.

            “Perhaps the little beast simply barks more than he bites,” Shen Qingqiu goaded back, snarling as he pushed his qi into the blade, forcing the other back. “You have no place here! Whatever you hoped to achieve will not come to pass.”

            “Why is it so different then?” The Beast howled, redoubling attacks and driving Shen Qingqiu further up the slope. “What does that mongrel possess for you that I do not?!”

           Said mongrel was quick to attack, breaking the press and giving Shen Jiu a much needed breath before diving back into the fray, though he would never admit as such.

            A new aura washed over the space as the competitors changed places again, crisp and clear, like the first clean breath after being held under mud, and a bright flair of qi began to streak through the air from the top of the peak.

            “You’re mistaken,” the peak lord answered, smiling as he managed to draw a thick line of blood from the Beast's shoulder while he was distracted by the approaching storm. “That little mutt isn’t mine.”

            Yue Qingyuan landed like a meteor, but it wasn’t his qi making the air ripple this time. If not for the threat of mortal peril, Shen Jiu might have fallen to the ground and wept as he retreated a few steps to reconfigure with his newly acquired allies.

            A flash of blue and silver found its way into the meat of the Beast’s arm, the fury behind the blow cutting deep and splattering blood before the hurled battle fan returned to its glowering master.

            “Get the fuck away from my brother,” Shen Yuan ordered, bright blue energy dancing in the air around him as he flicked the tines sharply.

            “Yuan-di,” the peak lord called softly, unable to stop the smile that split his lips, demon invasion be damned.

            “With me, Ge,” the younger Shen ordered, arranging himself into the formation.

            “What is this?” the Beast asked, seeming to not even care that he had been wounded twice.

            “I don’t know why you’ve come,” Shen Yuan said, making his brother proud with the level of haughty scorn that entered his voice. “But I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I don’t particularly care to have my mornings disrupted.”

Chapter Text

            “You’re bleeding,” Shen Yuan observed as his brother stepped in next to him. “Are you hurt?”

            “I’m fine,” Shen Jiu answered, taking up a battle stance once more. “Worry about yourself.”

            “In all my searching… a dozen worlds, and I’ve yet to find two of you. How interesting…” The overlord in front of them seemed to be processing, waving his hand to send a small group of lesser demons forward to strike.

            “Care to fill me in?” Shen Yuan asked with a grunt of effort, sticking close to the peak lord as they parried blows. Honestly, how had it come to this?! He had left things in a perfectly respectable condition, and yet he wakes up to find Yue-gege over him talking about demons invading the sect!

            AGAIN.

            Not only that, but to arrive at the scene to find not one, but two demonic overlords? Hell. No. And who was this old guy?? Shen Yuan didn’t remember anything about an older advisor in PIDW, but here he was, with a weird little guy throwing snakes toward people with fangs gleaming and claws outstretched.

            Was that a Heavenly Demon mark?!?!

            Bitch, the fuck.

            But, more importantly, the two Luo Binghes! TWO LUO BINGHES!! That was a 100 percent increase! How the fuck?! He took his brother’s lead, standing with his guard braced against the one Shen Jiu had been fighting against- OP, OG, OMFG, looking like he was fresh off of the official twitter account.

            He was going to grill that Ge of his after this!! Bro!! What did you do!!?

            “This one is mine,” his brother answered, gesturing towards the evil looking demon between strikes. “That one over there is yours.”

            “And those other two?” He added Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky to his list of intended murder victims. Who could he have had on the back burner that he would never dare to share about?! What was the sanctity of Guy’s Night for, if not to reveal such tantalizing secrets within the secure bonds of bro-hood?

            Bitch, the fuck.

            “Apparently Luo Binghe’s father dearest wasn’t as dead under Mount Bailu as the Old Palace Master wanted us to believe. The snake one is the nephew, I presume.”

            His brother paused, stepping away for a moment to use Xiu Ya’s sparkling blade to divorce a green-skinned demon’s head from her shoulders. In the ensuing flurry of blows directed towards the younger brother, and he was carried away from the core of the group, his internal thoughts steaming.

            Honestly! Jiu-ge got left alone for hardly any time at all and Shen Yuan woke up to such a mess! A demonic invasion? Tianlang-Jun??! Two Luo Binghe’s?!?

            “I can’t leave you alone for anything,” he managed to teasingly huff as his brother struck out to his side once more, moving in tandem to buckle a larger demon so Shen Jiu could enact a swift retribution with Xiu Ya.

            “Well, you sure took your sweet time getting around to us at all!” his brother griped, flicking the long tail of his braid back over his shoulder. “What nonsense were you up to? You couldn’t be bothered to check in on your family? I asked if you were watching and you never answered!”

            “I never got the chance!” Shen Yuan shot back, dodging a wayward blade and cutting off its owner with a slice of his fan. “It took you years! What do you expect me to do with just a couple of months, huh?”

            Shen Jiu spared a moment to send him A Look, but not one he could decipher beyond annoyed perplexion.

            “We’ll discuss it later,” the lord dismissed. “Look out!”

            “Well then,” the Not His Luo Binghe called, the trio of heavenly demons stepping in to strike at the pair. “Maybe this world isn’t totally bereft of potential! Shizun,” he turned that heavy, burning gaze to Shen Yuan.   “Come with me!”

            “Over my frigid corpse,” Shen Jiu hissed with a swipe of his blade.

            “Eh, that can be arranged,” the Original Protagonist said with a shrug. “Surely it can’t be held against me when you’ve so clearly invited it!”

            The group continued to attack, trading blows back and forth as members danced a bloody whirl and changed between their partners in the cacophony. After a few rounds of moves, Yue Qingyuan’s sheathed blade interceded between Shen Yuan and the approaching Tianlang-Jun, a flurry of exchanges drawing the elder demon away.

            “Ah yes, I was wondering where you were,” the charming demon said with a polite smile before the intervening fights cut off Shen Yuan’s view. “I’ve heard such illustrious things about you in the last few days, Sect Leader Yue. I wanted to greet you in person and see how you’ve grown! You’ve truly done your teacher proud!”

            “A thousand pardons, Master Shen,” the snake demon that remained said politely, even as his claws struck out against Shen Yuan’s fan to draw him back to his present obstacles. He’d lost sight of his little lotus and his brother… “But this Zhuzhi-Lang is to ensure you do not wander off. Please come with me.”

            “No thanks,” Shen Yuan deflected, smiling with sharp charm as his fan whirled a response strike. “I have no need to go anywhere, so please do not expend yourself on my account.”

            “Junshang and my Lord are very insistent,” the demon, Zhuzhi-Lang, said as his expression turned apologetic. “So, I hope Master Shen can forgive this lowly creature for what will come next as we endeavor to repay your kindness.”

            Repay what kindness?! When had such a thing occurred?!! And how could this be considered any kind of bleeding generosity?! Young man, you are destroying this immortal master’s perfectly good home base!! Back off!!

            In the midst of his confusion, his fan slipped slightly, and he wasn’t able to entirely block the fine spray of mist that suddenly blew his way. He hissed as it made contact with his skin, producing a strange, tingling sensation.

            “This one really would prefer to treat Master Shen with the same kindness he showed upon this pitiful creature at their first meeting in Bailu forest, but unfortunately, Master Shen’s safety is of higher import.”

            Shen Yuan felt his qi stutter slightly, his head going fuzzy as he blinked rapidly. “What did you do?”

            “Do not fear, Master Shen,” the snake demon said, catching him as he stumbled. “It will pass quickly. You merely need to be protected from the fray, is all. If not for the poisons you already possess, it is no doubt you would resist this mild one as well.”

            “SHEN YUAN!” he could hear his brother cry out over the din of the fight, even as the snake demon scooped him up in his deceptively slender arms and began to make tracks back down the path towards the demon hoard.

            “Put me down!” Shen Yuan ordered, struggling weakly. His body was moving too slowly!

            “My apologies, Master Shen, but this Zhuzhi-Lang truly cannot!” The demon continued to race, slipping between various, blurring combatants with a serpentine grace. “Master Shen must be kept safe in order to receive his just rewards!”

            “You really don’t owe me anything!” He suspected his state must be due to some sort of toxin the demon had used in the mist attack, and stopped fussing to turn his attention inward, trying to block the spread of numb tingles and awaken the muscles already put to sleep.

            “Of course we do!” The demon effortlessly vaulted over a low wall, even as the sounds of battle grew quieter as he was carried up and away from the main brawl. “If not for Master Shen retrieving the Sun and Moon Dew seeds from their cradle of holy water, this pathetic one would have never been able to free my Lord from his prison! When you are returned to Junshang’s realm of power, it would be the least of a repayment to hold your sway over all the world, so great is our gratitude!”

            …THIS PRETTY BITCH WAS THAT UGLY FUCKING SNAKE?!?

            “You have a very interesting way of repaying your debts, Zizhi-Lang,” Shen Yuan finally settled on saying aggrievedly, watching the copper eyes of the demon widen at the nickname before a thunderous sword glare cut off their path.

            “Release him!” Yue Qingyuan ordered, leaping down from the ledge above them.

            “This one is charged to protect Master Shen,” Zhuzhi-Lang replied, shifting his hold on the half-paralyzed man in his arms.

            “Don’t you know its rude to run off in the middle of a taunt?” Tianlang-Jun sashayed into the small clearing between the cedar trees, grinning even as dark tracks of rot spread over his bare chest. “I’m not finished looking at that interesting sword of yours!”

            “Shizun!” came another call, and Shen Yuan tensed before seeing the broad expanse of a white outer robe trimmed in gold. His captor turned, ready to deflect from either cultivator.

            “Oh my,” Zhuzhi-Lang said a second after, his head snapping to the other side just in time to catch a bright green qi strike to the face as Shen Jiu emerged from the end of the grove behind them.

            With a hiss, the demon dropped like a ball of lead through wet paper, crumpling to the ground and clutching his bleeding scales as he started to crawl towards the trees, his very form rippling in the grass until only a pile of green robes remained.

            Shen Yuan tumbled gracelessly to the ground a short distance away with a grunt, sighing shortly after as the feeling of cool qi pressed through his meridians once his brother retrieved him, the sluggish feeling in his body dispersing almost instantly.

            “Focus, or I’ll beat you myself,” Shen Jiu said darkly, even as he straightened them both out.

            “Shizun!” Luo Binghe called again.

            “Is he calling me, or you?” Shen Yuan asked, shaking off the last of his dizziness.

            “Well he’s not my disciple!” Shen Jiu hissed back.

            “Very rude to play tricks on your cousin, son of mine,” Tianlang-Jun said, a slight frown gracing his fine features. “Since you were raised by humans, shouldn’t you have an affinity for playing nice?”

            “Hey guys?!” came a loud, pathetic plea. “Maybe we can get some help over here? AH! MY KING!!!”

            Shen Yuan looked over just in time to see Shang Qinghua get yanked into a portal by a pale hand in fur and leather, mere moments before the black blade of Xin Mo pierced where he had been running away.

            “Now that’s an interesting pair,” Tianlang-Jun grinned. “If all else fails maybe you can go with them, nephew!”

            A deep, rustling hiss from the canopy was the only answer, and Shen Yuan turned his gaze heavenward to be greeted by the sight of an exceptionally large snake weaving in the trees, its tongue flicking out beneath the twin rows of nose pits.

            BIG SNAKE! BIG FUCKING SNAKE!!!

            “Now if only- ooph!” The elder demon cut off suddenly as another blue portal opened up underneath his feet, swallowing him whole.

            The snake in the trees instantly began to hiss, thrashing down to the ground violently as it dove after the other.

            Well… he supposed that took care of that…

            Pity he couldn’t enjoy the quiet.

            “Shizun…” came the sickly-sweet call as the dark-clad version of Luo Binghe dropped into the clearing. “Enough running away. Come with me, and all this can be over!”

            The group around him reformed into a diamond, with Shen Yuan at the center as all their weapons came to bear.

            “I have no interest in going anywhere with you,” Shen Yuan stated clearly, his expression stormy. “I’m afraid I’m rather invested in the upkeep of a demonic overlord already.”

            “I am better than that weakling,” the original goods said, a bright, manic smile on his face. “You do not need to be frightened! This Lord has long since purged his desire for your suffering. A dozen worlds have failed to produce you, but I will give you the worlds I crafted from the ashes. All you must do is agree! Say you will return with me, and I will be your slave, my empire will be your throne, and all that I have will be laid at your feet! Just come with me, and be as you have been with this lesser creature.”

            “Is this the same speech you give to all those women whose legs you worm between?” Shen Yuan snarked.

            To be fair, as a reader of PIDW, he had been rooting for the guy. Yes, the sex was boring and filled with cliches, especially in later chapters where it was more endless fan-service than actual plot, but as a dominating male power fantasy, it had served its purpose! This guy had managed to seduce every person he desired, and slaughter every person he did not! The thing was, Shen Yuan didn’t really enjoy being on the other side of things, ok?!

            “I’ve been alive for all of twenty minutes and the heavens have already decided to humble me!” he mourned in his heart. “If I lay back down, what are the odds that he’ll believe I’ve just died from how fucking weird all this is?”

            “You are worth more than every wife,” the man said, his smile growing ever more wild. “Once I realized your existence, I knew there was no other I would take unto my bed! I will have you as an Empress, and all my nights shall be spent by your side!”

            “Gross,” Shen Yuan answered, throwing his fan blade first towards the demon’s face.

            The fighting resumed, but it was much easier to move without the hoard of subordinates crowding in, and without his seemingly limitless back-up to call when he needed to break things up, the Original Flavor was forced to parry and return attacks from all four of them.

            “Fine then,” the darkened protagonist said after several more strikes, the aura of Xin Mo suddenly expanding heavily. “If you will not come, then I will not leave you for this mongrel to enjoy! I hope he is worth it, Shizun, when you die alongside him!”

[General System requirements met!] the system suddenly chirped, making the three peak lords flinch slightly. [Coordinating Information Relay…]

[Relaying… Pairing…]

[Pairing completed!]

[+500 complexity points! Achievement <Teamwork Makes the Dream Work!> unlocked!]

[Hidden Platinum Boss Fight Auto Initiated: {{Hell Hath No Fury Like a Protagonist Scorned}}]

[Current Objective: Defeat Luo Bing-ge! Protect Luo Bing-mei!]

[Sub-system values meet or exceed point limitations! Optional User Enhancement: <Total Synchronicity> available! Enhancement will change battle rating from ::L6. LEGENDARY:: to ::L3. MEDIUM::]

[Would Users like to engage?]

            “Fuck yes!” Shen Yuan frantically agreed as the qi-radiating Xin Mo came too close to Jiu-ge’s arm for comfort.

[Enhancement engaging. Please stand by!]

            In what was now the familiar sharpening of his senses, Shen Yuan could feel another flood of power rush into him, somehow both cool and electrifying. For a moment, everything seemed to slow as Yue Qingyuan pulled their Binghe behind him, and the three peak lords all took a synchronized step towards their foe, weapons ready.

            The ground beneath them crunched as they launched in tandem.

            Shen Yuan had managed to get quite a bit of martial learning in while he and his Jiu-ge were trapped together in the databank, and he had also had the occasional spar with Yue Qingyuan during his tenure as Shen Qingqiu, so it was fairly easy for him to shift between the two. Yue Qingyuan struck down the middle, the decorative embellishments on Xuan Su’s sheath suddenly beginning to glow with qi.

            Had it always had those??

            Regardless, with the demonic sword otherwise occupied, Shen Yuan cut to the right, and Shen Jiu to the left, the stinging silver streak of Xiu Ya and the battle fans passing back and forth between them as the three rained a flurry of blows down on the demon lord so quickly, it was impossible for him to catch them all.

            Blood sprayed, and Shen Yuan had a moment to appreciate the singing in his veins and the enerfy pounding in his heart before a burst of demonic qi lashed out, and he was forced to go on the defensive. The demonic sword was quick to push the other two away, even as a firm hand encircled Shen Yuan’s bicep and pulled him close.

            “You could have had anything you ever wanted,” Luo Bingge hissed, his features twisting angrily as the red mark of his huadian pulsed and seemed to grow larger. “But no, Fate deigns only to further laugh in my face! What’s so good about him, hm?” He blocked a twin strike from the other two, throwing Shen Yuan around like a doll in the process before pulling him close once again. “We are the same, so WHY HIM?!”

            “I DON’T FUCKING KNOW YOU!” Shen Yuan screamed back, swiping out with the tines of his fan. It caught on the edge of the demon lord’s throat as he managed to twist out of the grapple and retreat far enough to throw a few qi blasts of his own. “Is this how you treat those wives of yours? Like meat you can just pick up wherever you feel like it? You don’t know me either!”

            Xiu Ya shot past, and Shen Yuan threw out his hand, the hilt zipping back to nestle into his palm as he whirled, throwing one of the fans to Shen Jiu to use in the meantime.

            How long did Shen Yuan spend playing house with Luo Binghe, huh? How many days did it take for his little white lotus to figure out the things he liked? How often had he woken up to a perfect bowl of fresh congee, with a tea he thought was to die for, before spending his day hardly having to lift a finger because his little sheep was right there, anticipating every need? It had been nothing but his disciple’s attentive adoration in those times before the Endless Abyss. Day after day, for years, until the imposter peak lord could barely tolerate time without him.

            And this bastard dared to think he could compare to that just because he had the same face and a fancy guan? Get lost.

            “You aren’t good enough because you aren’t mine,” Shen Yuan finished, the glow of the blade striking true against the demon’s shoulder, cutting in deep before he pulled it out with a splash of crimson. “And you never will be.”

            The demon lunged once again, a low roar leaving him, but his dark blade was caught by the edge of another. Luo Binghe, his Luo Binghe, whirled by, a streak of light and dark robes dancing with him as the two engaged.

            The aura was overwhelming.

            As the two demon lords battled, Shen Yuan circled back, passing Xiu Ya back to his brother.

            “Looks like the little mutt decided to be useful after all,” Shen Jiu said.

            “Let’s lend him a hand,” Shen Yuan added on, leaning in to track a plan with his brother.

            With a skillful match like Luo Binghe, Luo Bing-ge was clearly starting to struggle as their fight carried out of the clearing and back towards the main throughfare, the peak lords trailing after. At one point, they both attempted to strike out in a qi blast, only for their palms to connect in the middle with a sickening crunch of bone as they were flung apart.

            “Be careful!” Shen Yuan chastised, pulling his young disciple back onto his feet once he had stopped skidding. “Don’t just recklessly attack. Try to back him in somewhere!”

            “Yes, Shizun!” came the reply, and for a moment he could only think that this crispy little lotus might still have some unblackened insides as he bolted forward with renewed vigor, his broken arm held tight against his body.

            With Luo Binghe at the fore, and Shen Yuan bolting around with the other two to take turns keeping lesser demons off, it was easier to press the interloping lord back towards one of the cliff faces. He could still feel that line of energy between himself and Shen Jiu, with the electric undertones of Yue Qingyuan pulsing beyond, each of them moving as part of a whole.

            It felt especially awe-inspiring, as all three blades swung down at once, catching on the edge of the original Xin Mo and bore down with all their might, each piece absolutely radiating with the amounts of qi they were pouring into the attack.

            Luo Bing-ge grunted under the strain, snarling as Shen Yuan placed a hand on Shen Jiu’s back, funneling his own qi through the other and into his blade, watching its bright green light turn slightly teal. How impressive, though, that the Original Flavor was able to stand even under this! Truly his strength must have been at insane proportions before!! Shen Yuan was about to despair, because how much more could this bastard take, really?! But then, there was a loud, metallic hiss, an errant purple streak suddenly appearing from within the cloud of miasma.

            The power surged, biting at every inch of Shen Yuan’s skin, whipping his hair back from his face in a fury, and it took all he had to remain in place as the Lord of the Three Realms screamed, his demon mark expanding to send streaks of red all the way to his temples and cheeks, blood dripping from his nose and lips.

            Fear clogged Shen Yuan’s heart as the sting of demonic power washed over him, making his teeth ache and his eyes burn. He had never felt such an overwhelming level pour from any demon before! If this was the scope of his will, how could they manage to defeat him?

            And just as he thought such things, Xin Mo, that legendary golden finger, the ultimate Protagonist device of unparalleled power, shattered in Luo Bing-ge’s very hands.

            With the abrupt loss of resistance, the swords swung downward, and the foremost edge of Xiu Ya once again bit into the overlord’s shoulder, this time continuing its vicious arc until it swung free on the other side, even as they were all thrown back from the force of the demonic sword’s destruction.

            Shen Yuan felt his head spin as he blinked slowly, his eyes struggling to focus on the scraggly patch of ripped up grass in front of him before he was able to lift his head groggily, something wet dripping down his face and making his eye sting.

            Luo Bing-ge cried out, falling back from where his left arm had dropped uselessly to the ground, surrounded by a fine black silt and a broken sword hilt.

            For a moment, all was still as they all processed what had just happened. Xiu Ya was the first to move again, swinging widely with clear intent.

            “Don’t kill him!” Shen Yuan cried.

            Shen Jiu’s sword halted, barely a hair’s width away from decapitating the demon. “Yuan-di, now is not the time for mercy. This one is not your little pet.”

            “He’s still Binghe,” the younger Shen responded, frowning. “I… I do not wish to see it.”

            Shen Yuan watched, still trying to get his legs under him, as Luo Binghe approached, his own version of Xin Mo glinting in the morning light.

            “Sect Leader Yue,” the youth called, stilling a few paces away. “Please pardon me for my use of excessive violence on your Sect’s grounds.”

            It was all the warning they were given before Luo Binghe’s claws were arching, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh on the underside of the mirror’s jaw. Shen Yuan gasped, his eyes widening as he watched his lotus drag the other away by his head, the one remaining hand clutching at his wrist to relieve the pressure as he gagged on his own blood.

            “You heard Shizun,” Luo Binghe said over the horrible noise. “He does not want you. But he does not want to see you die, in spite of your offenses. Be grateful for his mercy. It is the last of it you will ever see.”

            The young man swung his blade, the face of the world warping in its wake to crackle and spit into a maw of waiting darkness that nearly swallowed the whole of the cliff. Shen Yuan watched as Binghe leaned down to whisper something in the other’s ear with a cruel smile before he bodily threw him into the portal, and it shuffled closed behind him.

[Boss Fight Completed! +500 b-points!]

[+200 Satisfaction Points!]

[-50 Heartbreak Points!]

            “Well done, Binghe,” he praised weakly, feeling fatigue wash over him as the adrenaline and qi syncing settled and tapered off.

            “Are you alright, didi?” Yue Qingyuan called from where he was steadying Shen Jiu.

            “I feel kind of tired, all of a sudden,” Shen Yuan answered honestly. “I think…I might need to sit down.”

            And then the ground was rushing up to meet him once more, darkness striking him before the earth could.

Chapter Text

            Warmth surrounded him, soft and all-consuming. It’s current wandered lazily through his fuzzy thoughts, nestling him into the sweet cocoon between deep, dreamless sleep and wakefulness, where the world remained little more than suggestion, and thoughts passed through with no impact or recollection.

            Soft. Warm. Heavy. Contented.

            It was with such pleasant auras that Shen Yuan slowly blinked his eyes open, bleary for a moment as a familiar white canopy greeted his gaze, the weight of the blankets tucked around his shoulders accompanied by an arm draped over his middle, and a head with damp hair tucked up against his shoulder. Qi passed through each point of contact, gently shoring up his meridians with a touch that was kind, in spite of its obvious owner’s reputation.

            “Jiu-ge?” Shen Yuan questioned softly, breaking the silence.

            “You are awake?” Shen Jiu asked, shifting to sit up at once, and his hands roamed over the younger man’s face, as though to assure himself that he was not dreaming.

            “How long was I out?” Shen Yuan asked, loathe to sit up, instead burrowing deeper into the fluff of the blankets.

            “It is nearly dusk,” came the answer. “Didi has been giving this Master chest pains for nearly six shichen.”

            The Didi in question chuckled lightly, flashing a smile. He tugged on a lock of his brother’s wet hair, before realizing his own was also damp.

            “Did it rain?” The skies had seemed so clear when he’d come hurtling down the mountainside with Yue Qingyuan…

            Shen Jiu huffed, all but rolling his eyes as he crawled over the younger brother to get out of the bed. Not only was his hair wet, Shen Yuan noted, he was also in a plain set of inner robes, as though he were just moments after a wash and still before dressing.  

            “I bathed you, idiot,” Shen Jiu said, rustling through a drawer in the vanity to produce a wooden comb. “You were only awake for a short time, and yet still managed to get so filthy. Someone had to get you cleaned up before putting you to bed to rest properly.”

            “What happened after?” His last truly clear thoughts were of Luo Binghe, his Luo Binghe, crouching low with a sharp smile to whisper in his doppelgänger’s ear before throwing him back to where he came from.

            Then… not much.

            “Naturally, the remaining demons had to be subdued,” Shen Jiu answered, stating the obvious. “It seems some were willing to abandon allegiances with the new Emperor’s power in favor of the old. Your dog dealt with the few remaining leaders while Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun took Tianlang-jun and his snake into custody. Something about proper interrogations, but to be honest, I had my hands full with making sure you weren’t about to depart from us once again.”

            “You know me,” Shen Yuan said, finally deigning to stretch and sit up. “Can’t get rid of me! I’m like a particularly persistent fungus. Er, well… I guess that would actually be you, now.”

            Shen Jiu pursed his lips, gently swatting him on the shoulder as he settled behind the younger brother, gently combing his hair, mushroom-grown fingers delicate through the process.

            “I should give you forewarning, we promised Luo Binghe he could ask you for an audience,” Shen Jiu informed him suddenly, leaving the weight of a mountain spawning in the pit of Shen Yuan’s belly. “He understands that he may only ask once, and if you say no, he will be escorted out by the Peak Lords. So, I would not be surprised if he attempts to return here tonight. He has already tried to see you once.”

            “What did you say to him?” Shen Yuan could feel a tension twisting up under his ribs.

            “I told him he would not be setting so much as his gaze into this house until he’d had a proper bath and change of clothes. He was absolutely disgusting with gore after the fight, Didi, it was terrible. Clearly area control was not a lesson you taught well. I should think he will have to burn that coat- it is not even worth rags after that abuse.”

            Shen Yuan turned, catching the hand that was prepared to draw the comb through his hair once more. “But you did say he could come in?”

            Shen Jiu huffed, his gaze sliding away. “I do not deny that I dislike seeing his… he is familiar with you, in a way I find displeasing. And then, of course, there are the matters that started this all to begin with. But… if Shen Yuan wishes to see the mutt and hear what he has to say, this Master will not forbid him from entering. This bamboo house is as much yours as it is mine.”

            “Jiu-ge,” Shen Yuan cooed, earning a scowl from the other man.

            “Stop that!” the elder hissed, poking him in the ribs. “Get up. We don’t have time for you to moon around in bed. If he comes back, we need to be dressed for company. Besides, Qi-ge will probably stop by at some point to see you as well.”

            “Qi-ge?” Shen Yuan parroted, his eyebrows climbing up to his hairline.

            Shen Jiu seemed to realize what he had said, stalling for a moment as he traded the comb for a green ribbon. “…it was a small thing, after all. It is a pity Didi did not arrive to impart his wisdom on us much sooner.”

            “Then he did give you his reason?” he inquired further, scrambling out of the bed to join the other by the vanity. “And you two are on good terms again?”

            “Good terms is… perhaps an understatement,” Shen Jiu said, and Shen Yuan cackled inside as his brother continued to devolve further and further into a ripe tomato. “He has… that is, this Master…mm. We are…committed. To one another’s happiness.”

            “How committed?”

            “…this Master has spent his days apart from Didi at the Sky House, and will likely return there with great frequency.”

            Shen Yuan could feel his eyes turn into saucers. Great that his big bros had patched things up, but Jiu-ge had moved in with Yue-gege?! Major friendship progress!!

            “We… are on the path of happy endings,” Shen Jiu quietly added on, turning away from prying eyes to fiddle with a set of matching guan.

            …Wait…

            “Ge,” Shen Yuan squeaked. “Are you dating Yue Qingyuan?!”

            “Don’t say it like that!” Shen Jiu chastised, pushing him down into the chair so he could style his hair. “What it is… we have not given a name beyond devotion. That is enough for this one.”

            He couldn’t really say he was surprised, since he’d known for quite a while that Yue Qingyuan and Shen Jiu were anything but normal about each other, but to see the manifestation of it in person! Jiu-ge was smiling!! The little one he did when he was distracted by something else! An honest smile because he was probably thinking about his boyfriend, the sect leader.

            “I’m happy for you,” Shen Yuan said honestly, watching in the reflection of the mirror. “If he ever makes you sad again, I’ll make his life a living hell, though.”

            “Shen Yuan should worry about himself,” Shen Jiu said as he poked the younger brother’s cheek before moving to the wardrobe. “It seems he has managed to collect no shortage of admirers during his time before.”

            “Pfft. As if. They just like me for your money and face.”

            “I too held my money and face, and yet no one was tripping over themselves to see me. Nor were any so… singularly devoted.” He got a faraway look in his eye that had Shen Yuan hesitating to ask for clarity. “Regardless. Those will be your trials to face.”

            “You would leave your precious Didi to the wolves?” Shen Yuan asked with faux outrage as he was handed a pile of familiar silken robes in green and pale gold-a set of his favorites.

            “Wolves,” Shen Jiu muttered, pulling out another set for himself. “That would be one way to address it.”

            It was only once Shen Yuan had (painstakingly) struggled through adorning himself with all seven layers of (murderous) silks and turned to grab a hair stick that he realized he and Shen Jiu were matching.

            Down to the stitch.

            “I thought it amusing,” Shen Jiu said loftily once he noticed the other’s face. “If you are to be constrained back to proper attire, I should like to see our shidi struggle for a bit now that we can move about the peaks together.”

            “Not Yue-gege?”

            “He knows us too well,” the elder dismissed, setting the matching guan over Shen Yuan’s topknot. “I doubt we could fool him now. But enough of that. Come, I will prepare tea, and Didi will let me enjoy his company while we discuss the story we will share with the outside world.”

***

            “There is one more matter,” Shen Jiu said, tracing the rim of his teacup with the matching lid after he had shared all of the main points of the cover story. “It regards our time spent… away. You may have noticed your little pet has developed rather far since last you saw him.”

            “Binghe’s grown so much in just a year,” Shen Yuan mused, smiling as he chased crumbs of tea snacks with his chopsticks. “I think its been a year, at least…”

            “Do you recall those instances where you would wake, but I would not?” Shen Jiu tilted his head slightly, watching closely.

            “Of course I do! It was scary as hell,” Shen Yuan groused.

            “I think it was happening much more than we realized,” Shen Jiu continued. “But we were both stuck asleep, and had no way of knowing.”

            “What makes you say that?”

            “After you joined me there, we were together for a time, and then I was taken to the auxillary body you had prepared. How long would you estimate that time was?”

            “I dunno,” Shen Yuan shrugged, thinking back. “Maybe… ten months? Give or take?”

            “Yue Qingyuan informed me upon my waking that it had been five years, Didi. And you said earlier that you have only had some months to practice the qi locks, but I have been working on your resurrection for just over two years now. Either we were losing time in the sleeping gaps, or time in general just moves at a different pace.”

            Shen Yuan sat back, something heavy settling in his heart. “You gave up two years of your life… for me?”

            “Wipe that look off of your face,” Shen Jiu ordered coldly. “I will not be pitied for a gift I chose to make for my own brother.”

            “But you were pretending to be someone else instead of living your life!”

            “I’ve been pretending to be a lot of things for my whole life. This was the first time it truly served to bring me happiness, and I have no regrets, so you will desist this instant!”

            Before the elder Shen could continue his chastising, there was a knock at the door, and Shen Yuan startled slightly, having nearly forgotten that they were once again in a place where others existed to interrupt.

            “I will get it,” Shen Jiu said, rising elegantly. “Clear your mess if you are finished.”

            Shen Yuan dutifully cleared the crumbs and cold tea dregs away to the service table in the small kitchenette before slipping down the hall towards the front door, with every intention to be nosey. His plan was foiled, however, when Shen Jiu spotted him out of the corner of his eye where he stood guarding the entrance.

            “Your little wolf has arrived,” Shen Jiu said with a bite hidden in his voice as he slid the door open further, allowing Shen Yuan to see out to where Yue Qingyuan and Luo Binghe waited on the steps.

            His heart kicked up to a million beats in an instant as the cool, red eyes of the Demonic Emperor locked onto him, framed by the red huadian and dancing curls pulled back into a simple half knot.

            “Shizun,” Luo Binghe greeted softly after their staring lasted a few beats silently.

            “…Binghe,” Shen Yuan managed to return, plucking a fan from the side table to snap open in front of his face. “Yue-shixiong …it is good to see you both unharmed.”

            “We are far more grateful to see you unharmed, I assure you,” Yue Qingyuan said with a smile, stepping forward to wrap a large hand around Shen Yuan’s shoulder with a squeeze. “You gave us quite the fright.”

            “I promise I don’t intend to cause problems,” Shen Yuan chuckled quietly, smiling up at the man. “Thank you for looking after Jiu-ge for me while we were apart.”

            “Thank you for making means for him to return to us.”

            Shen Jiu swatted at them both. “Yes, yes. We’re all happy to be here. Enough. You two will stand here blathering thanks to each other all night. We have business to get to.”

            “Of course,” Yue Qingyuan agreed, stepping back slightly to gesture towards the demon present. “Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu, Master Shen, Palace Master Luo Binghe has made a formal request for your audience and this Sect Leader is inclined that you should accept.”

            “You’re vouching for him?” Shen Jiu asked, crossing his arms with a displeased expression. “When did this occur?”

            “Luo Binghe and I have had time to discuss some things,” Yue Qingyuan said cryptically. “I think Master Shen has a right to make a fully informed decision regarding the recommendation of retaining his discipleship.”

            “Hmph!” Shen Jiu shook his hair over one shoulder, turning to pull Shen Yuan along. “Well, it’s this Lord’s opinion that such things should be decided by their proper recipient. Wait here.”

            He abruptly slid the door closed behind them, pulling the other close. “Didi does not have to talk to him if he does not want to, even if the ‘Sect Leader’ thinks that you should. It is your choice, and I will see it upheld, whatever you decide.”

            Shen Yuan looked down at where their hands were tangled, squeezing tightly. He had known Luo Binghe was likely to come asking for an audience. He had known that Luo Binghe would likely arrive in a variation of his demonic lord attire, since his set of white robes had been ruined in the battle. He had known Luo Binghe would be… intense.

            But none of that prepared him for the sudden, violent crescendos of nervousness that churned in his middle. Ever since that gaze had turned to him, with no danger or villain to fight getting in the way…

            “I want to talk to him,” Shen Yuan suddenly blurted. “…alone.”

            “Now, Didi, don’t be-!”

            “I need to discuss something with him,” Shen Yuan continued, talking over the elder Shen. “And… I know if you’re sitting next to me, I won’t be able to do it. Just give me a bit to get things in order, and then the four of us can sit down together and go over the rest. Okay?”

            “You were frightened of him,” Shen Jiu tried.

            “I was frightened of your Luo Binghe,” Shen Yuan corrected, squeezing his hands. “This one is mine, and I don’t think he would actually hurt me. I can see that now. I mean, honestly, Jiu-ge. You saw them! It really isn’t the same.”

            Shen Jiu harrumphed, scowling slightly. “I still don’t trust him.”

            “I’m not asking you to trust him,” Shen Yuan said. “I’m asking you to trust me.”

            Shen Jiu seemed to mull it over, before he eventually heaved a great sigh. “Three incense sticks, then.”

            “Half a shichen,” Shen Yuan countered.

            “A quarter shichen,” Shen Jiu returned.

            “Deal.” And being the annoying little shit that he was, Shen Yuan stuck out his hand, nudging it against his brother’s arm until the proffered handshake was completed. “Now if you would be so kind?”

            Shen Jiu slid the door open once again, abruptly interrupting the quiet conversation Yue Qingyuan seemed to be having with Luo Binghe on the porch as he grabbed the Sect Leader by the arm and started pulling him down towards the bamboo groves.

            “A quarter shichen, and then its down to official business, Didi,” he reminded the younger Shen as he drug the Qiong Ding Lord away. “Starting now!”

            Shen Yuan watched them disappear for a moment before turning to the half-demon on the porch. “Sorry about that… um… come in?”

            Luo Binghe took a deep breath, and nodded, following Shen Yuan within, the air laden with a heavy oppression of awkwardness.

            How much of the mask should Shen Yuan wear? Luo Binghe definitely knew that he wasn’t actually Shen Qingqiu now. How much had Yue Qingyuan already told him? How much of the peak lord aura should Shen Yuan hold onto now that everyone was going to know he’d been lying to them for years? Gods, what if Luo Binghe was angry about being lied to, what was he going to do then?!

            “Tea!” Shen Yuan suddenly blurted, whirling around far too quickly to be graceful and almost smacking straight into Luo Binghe’s chest, quickly taking a wobbly step back. “Ah, I mean, would you like any? Would you like any tea? I can make some…” He trailed off awkwardly.

            “This Luo Binghe is fine,” the demon emperor said. “I would not wish to waste time where we may speak freely.”

            “Oh.” Shen Yuan blinked, and then nodded. “Right, of course. This Mast- er, uh. This one is sure that you must have a great many questions. Although, it has not been shared how much Sect Leader Yue may have disclosed already. My apologies, Palace Master Luo.”

            Luo Binghe seemed to cringe slightly at the address. “Shizun need not be so formal.”

            “I’m not your Shizun,” Shen Yuan said, feeling his own heart rend slightly as the words left him. “You poured tea for Shen Qingqiu, not me. I have no right to the title.”

            “I do not recognize Peak Lord Shen as such,” Luo Binghe said icily. “He did little for this one’s cultivation or educations. The honor of Shizun falls to you alone, as far as I am concerned.”

            “I…see…” Shen Yuan managed before tripping his way over to the table. “Then… join me? We can… discuss things.”

            Luo Binghe settled gracefully, his dark robes pooling in gentle waves around his thighs, and his hair caught the dying streaks of the golden sun beautifully.

            “I am glad to see you are well,” Shen Yuan said, abruptly directing his stare down to his hands, kept clasped and fiddling on the face of the table. “This one had great concerns when last we saw one another that you would have suffered in the wake of things.”

            “This one has suffered,” Luo Binghe answered simply. “From that day forward, it has been only suffering for seven long years.”

            “Oh… um… I’m sorry, then, that Binghe has struggled. The demon realm must truly be wild to cause such headaches.”

            “The demon realm is nothing. This lord has suffered from something far more painful than the woes of leadership.”

            Shen Yuan flicked his gaze up, and immediately regretted it. Luo Binghe was looking at him with such intense focus! He did not even seem to blink as his burning red gaze locked onto Shen Yuan’s own, eyes glassy.

[Would Host User like to purchase a small conversation direction hint for 50 b-points?]

            “Yes!” Shen Yuan agreed in a panic as those deep, soulful eyes continued to bore into him.

[Hint: with a physical form enabled and equipped, Host User has access to Inventory!]

            Like a bolt, Shen Yuan sat up straighter, digging through his sleeves. “Oh, wait! I have… where did I… ah, here it is!” His hand closed around the cool, smooth surface of the object, clutching it tightly in his hands as he took a steadying breath. “This one must apologize,” he said with a depreciating laugh. “As I said to Sect Leader Yue before, I do not intentionally cause problems. But… now that things are as they are, I think perhaps… it would be as good a time as any to return this to you…”

            With delicate, slightly shaking movements, Shen Yuan produced the false jade Guanyin amulet from his sleeve, laying it out on the table for the other to take.

            “I know I should have returned it to you sooner,” he continued, even as Luo Binghe seemed to turn to stone himself before gingerly reaching out for the object. “But, in the beginning, I was trying to copy my brother as closely as I could, and I knew he would not be… it is a stupid reason, I accept that. I am sorry to have kept it from you for so long. This one knows it is very special to Luo Binghe, and should not have been taken from him at all.”

            He bowed over the table, as low as he could get with it in the way, only to flinch when a strong hand encircled his wrist. He looked up, a slight tinge of panic spiking, only to see Luo Binghe clutching the pendant in his other hand, tears streaming down his face.

            “Shizun has kept this precious thing safe for so many years?”

            “It is Luo Binghe’s,” Shen Yuan answered, confusion coloring his voice. “What would I do with it, if not keep it safe until it could be returned?”

            “Why would Shizun keep any of these lowly demon’s things, once he knew of the filth that runs in his blood?”

            Shen Yuan frowned. “I told you once that no being is intolerable.” His gaze softened as he recalled the past. “I know that things after the conference might have made that statement confusing. But Luo Binghe has never been anything less than this one’s favorite person, demon or not. I…”

            Shen Yuan trailed off, feeling his face turn bright red, burning enough it could probably warm a house through the winter. He snapped the fan he’d snagged earlier open once more, hiding behind it, whipping up a gale as he tried to cool his expression.

            “This Shen never desired to bring Binghe misfortune,” he managed to eek out, drowning in the humiliation. “But some things… they could not be avoided. Those torments… they were this one’s fault, and he will accept any punishments Luo Binghe feels are earned.”

            “Did Shizun mean what he said to that other Luo Binghe?” the demon suddenly asked, the hand on Shen Yuan’s wrist pulling him closer.

            “I said a great many things… Binghe will need to be more specific.”

            “Shizun said that he would never go, because that version was not his version.”

            “Ah… I did say that, didn’t I?”

            “Did Shizun mean it?”

            “Of course I wasn’t going to go with him!” Shen Yuan dropped the tines of his fan to display his frown. “He was much less enjoyable to meet than you.”

            “Because… Shizun considers this one to be his?” Luo Binghe was looking at him with that face again… the little white lotus face full of hesitant hope, one of the very first expressions Shen Yuan had ever seen him make.

            Defeated, the transmigrator sighed. “Who else could I call mine? Didn’t this one live with you in this very house? Aren’t those your things in the side room? Silly Binghe…”

            All at once, Shen Yuan found himself yelping as he was bodily moved over the table until Luo Binghe was able to crush him in his arms.

            “Shizun!”

            On any occasion, being manhandled into another man’s lap was not an experience Shen Yuan found himself expecting, but being manhandled into Luo Binghe’s lap brought forth a whole other slew of embarrassing memories.

            “This is too much like that damned window scene!!”

            Still, he was powerless to stop himself from going for a head pat, letting his finger sink into the thick curls. Gods, the world was blessed by Luo Binghe’s curls…

            “This Master…” Shen Yuan tilted his head away to hide the furious spread of his blush. “He has missed his Binghe…”

            The strong arms around his middle suddenly squeezed tighter before Luo Binghe was pulling away, a strange, vulnerable look on his face. “Shizun has said those words to me before.”

            Ice formed in the pit of Shen Yuan’s stomach, and he wiggled in a fruitless attempt to escape the embrace. “I’m sure I’ve said many things of such nature!”

            “No,” Luo Binghe insisted, clutching tighter. “Shizun has said those exact words before, only once!”

            “Binghe,” Shen Yuan whined, haphazardly swiping at him with a fan. “Please, don’t talk about it!”

            “Shizun knows what this one is referring to?” Luo Binghe somehow managed to look like he was on top of the world while Shen Yuan prayed for the earth to open up and swallow him.

            “This Shen did not know that he was speaking to the true Luo Binghe,” Shen Yuan confessed, hiding his entire face behind his fan, so not even his eyes peeked over the edge. “Binghe clearly was not in control of the dream either.”

            “Yes I was.”

            Shen Yuan could swear he could hear something breaking. Maybe the tea set had fallen over? Maybe it was his sanity shattering??

            “But… you said…” he trailed off again, unable to find any modicum of face thick enough to repeat the sequence of events.

            “If Shizun cannot understand this lowly Luo Binghe’s intentions, then may he forgive him for being more forward,” the Protagonist said, his voice soft like velvet.

            It was all the warning he was given before a gentle hand traced the curve his jaw, turning him forward to face the other. He had just enough time to feel his eyes go comically wide before Luo Binghe brushed their lips together, the touch firm, but lingering and gentle.

            A sudden, violent shiver raced down Shen Yuan’s nerves, his fingers finding purchase in the fabric at Luo Binghe’s shoulders as his spine seemed to decide it was actually made of warm beeswax. The lips were more gentle this time, nearly hesitant as opposed to the gnawing he’d experienced the first time around. Luo Binghe pulled back slightly, letting Shen Yuan finally gasp for air as his brain continued to bluescreen.

            “Uhng,” Shen Yuan articulated smoothly, rebooting.

            Wow. Like… wow. Okay, so… this was A Thing, then. Luo Binghe… and Shen Yuan had… and then… and it was… mmhmm. Yup. It sure was looking like things were… like that! And that was cool! Shen Yuan was cool! He was an ally! He was totally cool with there being people who liked other people who had matching… things, totally fine.

           But… but him? Not only had he somehow managed to bend the Almighty Protagonist, but all the beauties in the world and Luo Binghe, god among men, Adonis of the Universe, Perfect Physical Being, picked his weak, rickety old man of a shizun?!

            “Binghe, I am begging you to have better taste! If you’re into older men, your Liu Shishu is right there! Or the others! You have had no shortage of handsome men to admire! Why pick me?! Shen Qingqiu gave me his good complexion, but I definitely don’t know how to wield its full potential!”

            Ah, but he was getting distracted, and the half-demon was watching him expectantly.

            “Binghe…has known about his feelings for some time then?” Shen Yuan managed to ask after a long stretch of silence, fighting to ignore the fact that he was very much still sitting in the other’s lap.

            “This disciple has been unfilial, but has known his heart for many years,” the demon lord confirmed, an evil and torturous thumb working circles into Shen Yuan’s waist.

            “But… I lied to you about who I was.”

            “Shizun is Shizun, regardless of what name he uses.”

            “I hurt you.”

            “Shizun once held me on the brink of a qi deviation, and told this Luo Binghe that he was sorry. He said he regretted his actions, and promised that he was remorseful. Is that not the truth?”

            “No, it is!” Shen Yuan said hurriedly, shifting forward slightly in his urgency. “I did! That is, I mean, I am, but I still…”

            “Shizun said sorry, and this Luo Binghe forgives him.”

            Shen Yuan felt his eyes water. “It can’t be that simple.”

            “Why not?”

            “Aren’t you angry? I’m a liar who pushed you into hell and then ran away when you came back for your justice!”

            “All this Luo Binghe has ever wanted was to ask Shizun why, and if it hurt him the way it hurt this disciple. I saw Shizun mourn his actions, I know it hurt him. Yue…Shibo has instilled in this one the reminder to wait for Shizun’s trust to return before insisting on the reason why. But now that I am here, I do not care anymore. Only that Shizun is here. Only that Shizun is safe.”

            “And…knowing that I don’t want to separate myself from Lord Shen? Will that… cause problems? I know things were not…well between you, but… he is not… when we…” He sighed heavily. “His trials have been many, and he handled them poorly. Very, very poorly. But I do care to ease them to try and better all our circumstances. And having Yue Qingyuan to assist seems to help a great deal, although, ah, I suppose it would make sense for you to be angry with him as well. But they are my brothers, and I care for them deeply, regardless of their flaws.”

            “If the Peak Lords bring Shizun joy, this Binghe will endure, provided they are also willing to temper their own distastes.”

            “Mm…” Shen Yuan hummed, leaning back as he considered. “Given that they let you on the peak at all, much less planned to involve you, I think they might be already doing that.”

            “Then Shizun has no need to worry. Peak Lord Shen and Yue-Shibo will not be harmed by me unless it is as justice for Shizun.”

            “Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t hurt me on purpose,” Shen Yuan dismissed with a small wave of his hand, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “He may have a cold shell, but he is a surprisingly doting brother, the same for Yue Qingyuan. I trust them.”

            “If Shizun says so,” the heavenly demon said, a tinge of doubt clear in his voice. “But Shizun, will you only speak of others?”

            “What?” Shen Yuan blinked, his heart kicking up its pace as Luo Binghe’s arms cinched tighter, reminding Shen Yuan of the exact situation he was in.

            “Shizun has spoken of Binghe, and Lord Shen, and Yue-Shibo, but this humble one can’t help but notice that Shizun has said nothing about himself. Does he not have anything to say?”

            “Ah, um, well,” Shen Yuan stammered, heat once again rushing to his face as he remembered exactly why this conversation had turned this way. “I…umm, well, I’m not… well that is to say… Binghe is the best, obviously, but this master doesn’t… I’m not…”

            His stammering and stuttering only worsened as a small, unhappy smile settled on Luo Binghe’s face. “I see. Shizun… does not care for this one in the same regard.”

            “Oh, oh Binghe, please, don’t… don’t cry!”

            The demon turned, his watering eyes falling closed behind the curl of his bangs as he gently returned Shen Yuan to the floor. “Shizun need not witness. This fool apologizes for his rude behavior.”

            “Binghe, please,” Shen Yuan said again, reaching out to place his hand on top of Binghe’s between them before the other could pull away entirely. “It is not that Binghe is lacking in any regard! Binghe is very handsome, and exceptionally talented! This master is just… he is not the person who often has others show such feelings for him! And… he has never had his own before. But…”

            Something warm settled in his core as he considered the path offered to him, a flighty, fluttery feeling dancing under his lungs. “But those things are not so scary here. Not if they come from Binghe.”

            “What does Shizun feel, then?” The half demon asked, his eyes red with both unshed tears and a tinge of demonic qi.

            “I… I don’t know. This has never happened to me before.” He scooted forward on his knees. “There’s a reasonable way to find out though, if Binghe will indulge this master’s proposition?”

            “What’s that?”

            “Do it again,” Shen Yuan said simply, straightening his spine.

            “W-what?” Now it seemed like Luo Binghe was the scandalized maiden, his watery eyes going wide.

            Come now, boy, he knew allllll about your adventurous spirit, and you were going to blush at this after feeling him up in your lap?! He could tell you off!

            “Kiss me again,” Shen Yuan repeated confidently instead. “If I know it’s coming, I might react differently. Then we’ll have a clearer understanding.”

            Kissing. For science. Yeah. Hypothesis and shit, this was so normal of him he was doing so good at not having a crisis.

            “Shizun is sure?” Luo Binghe asked, leaning back into Shen Yuan’s space, his breath ghosting over the transmigrators cheek. The soft brush of it was trembling.

            What a silly boy.

            “Binghe,” Shen Yuan huffed with an eyeroll, deciding to say fuck all and leaning in himself, bracing his fingertips against Luo Binghe’s shoulder as he clumsily found where their lips connected. This time he even managed to close his eyes.

            He was clearly not as smooth as Binghe, having to shift a bit so their angle wasn’t quite so awkward, but it wasn’t… bad. They continued, longer than the first kiss had lasted, and eventually Luo Binghe took control over again, the hand on his chin directing him on where to shift so there was hardly a gap between them.

            And Shen Yuan shivered, something like lightning snaking down his spine and making his stomach clench. Hands, the Protagonist’s hands, were drifting down his arms, and his own somehow found their way into thick, curly locks at the nape of Binghe’s skull. And-

            Oh. At some point in their shifting, he had ended up sitting in Luo Binghe’s lap again. His solid… sturdy… muscular lap…

            That was fine, he supposed. Things were already like this, after all, and they fit around each other comfortably enough.

            “Shizun,” Luo Binghe whispered against his lips, his voice absolutely wrecked, right before his own began to trail.

            Shen Yuan used to make fun of movies where a girl would get her neck kissed and instantly swoon, but… he got it. He took back every single scathing word because the moment Luo Binge nipped at the skin below his ear, a sound that was truly unholy left him at the distinct feeling of the demon’s fangs pressed against his skin.

            “Holy fuck I might be gay. Can kissing a protagonist make you gay? Is this because I’m in a gay guy’s body?”

            “Shizun,” Luo Binghe growled, growled! And Shen Yuan felt lightheaded, no longer caring about the why and just enjoying the feeling of sparks skittering through his core. Hands were on his hips, and he had his head bent in supplication to the side, offering free access to the column of his throat.

            “Fuck,” Shen Yuan fervently whispered, realizing to his horror that his neck was not the only interested party in the mix.

            And it seemed like Luo Binghe might be paddling in the same boat as him.

            Luo Binghe growled against his ear once again and Shen Yuan couldn’t resist the shudder that ran through him, or the jolt of pleasure the sudden movement caused.

            “I think…” he mumbled, trying to remember his own name as strong hands encouraged him to rock. “I think… that’s an answer…” He was thankful for the silencing talismans built into the walls as another high-pitched whine left him.            “Binghe…”

            “This one is here, Shizun,” the demon whispered low against the shell of his ear. “This one is Shizun’s to command.”

            And, oof, that was doing something. Mmhmm. Shen Yuan was figuring out all sorts of things about himself today, wasn’t that wild?

            With slow, reluctant hands, Shen Yuan parted them, slipping out of Binghe’s embrace with a whine. “My brothers will be returning any minute. We mustn’t get carried away.”

            “Let them come, and then they may leave again,” Luo Binghe answered, chasing down another kiss. “Shizun…”

            “Yuan,” the transmigrator corrected.

            “What?” Luo Binghe finally pulled back, giving him a confused look.

            “My name,” he continued, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind his ear with a small smile. “My name is Shen Yuan. If Binghe wants…”

            “A-Yuan,” Luo Binghe whispered softly, reverently, like a prayer.

            It made something in him feel like it was soaring, and Shen Yuan was powerless to stop himself  from crawling right back to the space he had just vacated, pressing kisses wherever he was bold enough to reach. Just for a moment more! Just a little bit! Surely they had time still?

            The metallic hiss of a sword leaving its sheath quickly put that idea to rest as Xiu Ya swung.

            “What the fuck are you doing?!” Shen Jiu screeched as he entered the room.

            “Its fine!” Shen Yuan insisted, once again remembering shame and scrambling to get into something he could pretend was a proper position.

            “It is assuredly not fine, Yuan!”

            Yue Qingyuan walked in behind him, hand on the pommel of Xuan Su, only to lock gazes with the embarrassed transmigrator currently trapped in the lap of a demon and clearly having been kissed senseless. They held one another’s eyes for a beat before Yue Qingyuan flicked to Luo Binghe and back, and Shen Yuan could feel his lips twitch up into a smile, and Yue Qingyuan lost their silent contest, doubling over with laughter.

            “Yue Qingyuan, this is serious!” Shen Jiu yelled.

            “Very serious!” Yue Qingyuan agreed. “But also clearly very happy, A-Jiu. Look at him!”

            “Please don’t,” Shen Yuan groaned, hiding in Luo Binghe’s shoulder. “I’m going to evaporate.”

            “Get off you mutt,” Shen Jiu hissed, prying Shen Yuan out of the demon’s hold and dragging him back to the other side of the table. “I’m going to skin you alive.”

            “Ge!” Shen Yuan cried, slapping his arm. “It was my fault, leave Binghe alone.”

            “You are never getting left alone, ever again,” Shen Jiu hissed at him, jabbing him with a fan. “Honestly, have some decorum. Does your shamelessness know no bounds?”

            Feeling like nothing could possibly strike him down now, Shen Yuan leaned in to whisper, “The brand new hickey peeking out of Yue-gege’s collar says the shameless one is you, ge!”

            He bolted as Shen Jiu launched for him, barely escaping with Binghe in tow as he laughed, darting out of the house and down the path as Yue Qingyuan “accidentally” slowed his partner down as they made for their escape.

            “Let go of me- SHEN YUAN GET BACK HERE!!!”

            Shen Yuan, Luo Binghe, and Yue Qingyuan all received thorough verbal lashings once the peak lord of Qing Jing caught up to the fleeing couple, but he did also give permission for Luo Binghe to return in the morning with a proper courtship proposal.

            So… there was that, Shen Yuan supposed.

Chapter Text

            There were still, of course, matters that needed to be addressed.

            In spite of his joy at being able to stand between both of his Shen shidi, Yue Qingyuan’s mind was filled with arcs of inquiry as the five of them (his three direct shidi and the demon lord in tow) descended the steps of a hidden cavern on the northern side of Qiong Ding. It was built away from the spirit caves, and designed to make escape difficult- if one had no sword to fly upon or ability to portal, their only escape option that remained was to fall several thousand feet to the cold stone below.

            “He’s been on fair enough behavior,” Shang Qinghua was saying, taking point. “With the promise of extending relevant information, he seemed willing to settle quite a bit. And his little friend is willing to follow his lead, it seems.”

            “And you are certain you can negotiate further?” Yue Qingyuan asked, pressing a bit of his qi into the largest, most secure of the holding cell entrances.

            “You know me, Yue-bro,” Shang Qinghua said with a wave of his hand. “I’ve got all the pieces, just follow my lead.”

            “A terrifying suggestion,” A-Jiu mumbled under his breath from his place back beside Shen Yuan, stalwartly holding off the demonic emperor from clinging to his younger brother’s arm. “But noted.”

            “This had better be good, Airplane,” Shen Yuan warned, his fan snapping closed to point at the somewhat-god in question.

            Shang Qinghua simply gave them a dazzling smile, and stepped through the door laid with hundreds of inscriptions for containment. Without Yue Qingyuan, one would be hard pressed to ever gain entry or escape.

            “Ah, the fine Lords and that unfilial son of mine. This one was beginning to think you had forgotten about us.”

            Tianlang-Jun was seated in the center of the room, his posture affecting a carefree attitude in spite of the traces of pain and discomfort Yue Qingyuan could see hiding in the crevasses of his performance. Lines of dark rot spread up through his skin where it peeked through his robes, and his right hand seemed to have begun completely corroding. A green snake, as thick around as his forearm, draped over the demon’s shoulders, balefully flicking its tongue as they approached, its scales glinting in the low light of the night pearls embedded in the walls.

            He radiated the aura of a trained actor doing his best to keep his stage under control.

            “You are not looking well, my friend,” Shang Qinghua sighed, shaking his head as he sat down on the ground in front of the other man. “I did warn you about expending qi, didn’t I?”

            “Ah, so Lord Shang did,” Tianlang-Jun answered with a nod. “But this one has been betrayed enough by humans who claim to want peace, so you will surely understand that I could not simply take your word for it.”

            “Well, I should hope that we can put some of that sordid past to rest,” Shang Qinghua said, turning to motion the others forward. “As you so clearly stated, you naturally have already met myself and Master Shen, but allow me to introduce you to your actual son, Luo Binghe, and Master Shen’s elders, Peak Lord Shen, and Sect Leader Yue. I’m sure you remember him as well.”

            “Naturally,” Tianlang-Jun sighed. “Now- to the point, Lord Shang. This is the part where you declare that in spite of your generous efforts, my nephew and I are to be put to death for crimes against humanity, is it not? Spare me the pomp and circumstance, I am old, and have no desire for it.”

            “On the contrary,” Yue Qingyuan interjected. “Peak Lord Shang is under the impression that this has all been a misunderstanding, and has asked me to offer you a chance for reconciliation in regards to the events of that day in Bailu Forest.”

            “I need no reconciliation,” Tianlang-Jun suddenly hissed, his eyes flashing red. “I was there. I know what happened.”

            “You know who wasn’t there, though?” Shang Qinghua said with a smile, letting the implication hang for a moment. “It seems odd, doesn’t it? If Su Xiyan were to go through such efforts to seduce and isolate you, you’d think she’d show up to witness the reaping of the rewards. So why wasn’t she there?”

            “She played her part, and it was done,” Tianlang-Jun snarled. “She didn’t care.”

            “Your son’s entire life would say otherwise.” Shang Qinghua produced a small pouch of melon seeds and started munching lightly, even as Luo Binghe seemed to tense. “A cultivator of her caliber would have no issue with removing an unwanted seed before it had time to bloom, or at any point after. So why is Luo Binghe here, if she did not care? If she was so heartless, why did she carry your child to term?”

            “Does Lord Shang have a point?” The elder demon’s qi flared slightly, dark lines spreading further through his flesh.

            Yue Qingyuan couldn’t help but agree, not quite sure where his shidi was hoping to direct things from such a sore spot.

            “Of course, after such a long time, you would be rather impatient to get it all handled, wouldn’t you? My bad. I’ll cut straight to the point then- Su Xiyan didn’t betray you,” Shang Qinghua said simply. “And I happen to have access to a first-hand witness that can prove that’s the truth, if you’re willing to comply. If I can do that, are you willing to make an agreement with our sect to uphold an armistice between the human and demon realms?”

            “…Su Xiyan… did not…?” Tainlang -Jun seemed to flounder slightly, the snake on his shoulder shifting to scope the air with a hiss. “How would you prove such a thing?”

            “Our Junshang is also the new Palace Master of Huan Hua,” Shang Qinghua said with a grin, decidedly darker than before. “And I made a case to hold onto a particular witness, whose testimony could be corroborated with one of their many, many, many, truth-seer artifacts.”

            “Shang Qinghua, you sly rat!” Luo Binghe suddenly said, standing up even straighter. “You knew about this?”

            “I’ve been telling you, Junshang, there really is no assurance like a good administrative team! Aren’t you glad you didn’t kill me during that first visit? With your permission, I’ll get it all together, then!”

            “If you had suspicions, why have you waited so long?” Luo Binghe demanded, his clawed hand clamping down on the An Ding lord’s shoulder.

            “Patience, Junshang,” Shang Qinghua said, in a tone that Yue Qingyuan might have even called scolding. “You know as well as anyone that some things need time for the proper treatment. We’ll only get this chance once! It wouldn’t do to squander it early.”

            “I’ll skin you like a rug,” Luo Binghe hissed.

            “And I’m liable to help,” Shen Yuan tacked on, seeming to have realized something Yue Qingyuan had not yet. “Seriously, Shang-shidi, wat deh fuk?”

            Yue Qingyuan had heard him utter that foreign phrase several times throughout the years, usually attached to what one might call a blunder.

            “If there are means of resolving this matter peacefully,” Yue Qingyuan said instead of allowing the devolvement, “then we are honor bound to follow through. If we were wrong, I will be the first to take measures to correct errors where I can.”

“…fine.” Luo Binghe stepped back with a huff of disdain. “Call for Mobei-Jun.”

***

            “Shizun should look away,” Luo Binghe said as the tell-tale shiver of Mobei-Jun’s power laced through the cell a while later. “This creature is unsightly, and undeserving of Shizun’s gaze or regard.”

            “I will keep that in mind, Binghe,” Shen Yuan answered, a feeling of dreaded suspicion settling in his gut.

            He wished he had listened, as he felt something deep in his core recoil as the ice giant stepped through the frosted portal, the slow, grating drag of porcelain against stone grating on his nerves as the Old Palace Master was brought forward. The scene was crushingly familiar- he’d spent hours talking about the methods to achieve it in the online forums, after all. Now, it held a different kind of weight.

            He was trying very hard to not imagine his Jiu-ge or himself being dragged around in that old pot, thank you very much!

            “Demon rat,” the old man slurred, with a surprising amount of venom in his stare for a man who’d been relieved of all four limbs. “What’s this now? Wha- Yue Qingyuan?! Cang Qiong would dare-!”

            “I told you we still needed to be cautious with him,” Shen Jiu hissed in Shen Yuan’s ear from behind his fan as he pulled the transmigrator further from Luo Binghe once again. “Look at what he’s done! He’s still dangerous.”

            “We’ll talk about it later,” Shen Yuan answered behind the silk of his own fan, fluttering it lightly as he found himself locked into a staring contest with the browned blood stains painting the edges of the man’s torn sleeves, the thick lines of sluggish gore long since dried to crusted mess.

            It left him mildly nauseous. But… it wasn’t the same, right? They were talking about Binghe. His Binghe. There was no way either of them had a shot in following suite, right? Binghe had promised! They had kissed! Binghe wouldn’t be the kind of man to betray a lover!

            “What happened to Su Xiyan?” Luo Binghe asked, apropos of nothing. “This Lord will give you only one chance to answer on your own.”

            “Ok, so we’re jumping right in to the interrogations,” Shen Yuan thought, conveniently setting aside his inner turmoil to appreciate the direct tone Luo Binghe was giving.

            “Hmm?” The Old Palace Master seemed to find a little bit of focus somewhere behind his listing eyes once more. “My Xiyan?”

            Tianlang-Jun hissed, his fangs showing sharp in the low light. Shen Yuan didn’t think he’d seen the older demon act so hostile in the entire time since they’d met!

            …not that that was very long, all things considered, but still!

            “You!” The Old Palace Master seemed to realize the other for the first time, his neck straining to reach his glare around the younger Heavenly Demon. “Poisoning Hellspawn!

            “What happened to Su Xiyan?” Luo Binghe asked again, wrapping a golden cord around the Old Palace Master’s neck.

            The man yowled as it began to glow from within, lit by qi as the strands of woven compulsion spells inside it activated. Shen Yuan recognized it- the Cord of Honest Heart, crafted courtesy of Wife #184, who had doubted Luo Binghe’s evidence that her husband was not only having an affair, but plotting to overthrow their patriarch. Naturally Luo Binghe had been right, and they’d fucked about it. He’d mocked it, in the forums, but he wasn’t laughing now. The Old Palace Master thrashed, as much as he could with no extremities, enough that the rim of the jar he was held up in lifted off the floor like a spinning top as he cried out in pain.

            “Answer!” Luo Binghe demanded, the Cord flaring brighter.

            “Nnngh!” The man ground out, giving one last great heave before it all seemed to become too much. “She died!”

            “Before that!” Tianlang-Jun’s voice reverberated against the stone walls, ringing.

            “Agh! She… She was made to atone!” The Old Palace master growled, his once kindly-looking face contorting as the Cord tightened around his neck, pulsing. His proud demeanor was entirely gone- leaving only a frothing, crass creature in its wake.

            “Atone for what?”

            “For letting that demon filth defile her virtue! For bringing shame to Huan Hua! For her stupid, misguided, unrepentant corruption!” The Old Palace Master began to cackle through his grunts of pain. “It should have been you, that day! If she had just been a good girl and behaved as she was meant to, all of the Heavenly Demons would be dead and she could have come home to be forgiven! But no! His rebellious spirit had dug too deeply! It took weeks of punishment to even know about their meeting at Bailu Mountain!”

            “Torture,” Shen Yuan mentally corrected, thinking back to his own excursion to the Water Prison, and the ‘generous’ attention of the Little Palace Mistress. “You tortured her for information.”

            He coughed, red flecks falling from his lips as the Chord wrung the truth from him. “I would have given the whole of Huan Hua Palace to my Xiyan. She could have had the world, offered freely from my gracious hands. But no, she chose to throw it all away for a disgusting monster… In the end, I had no choice but to force her to drink that poison. She should have left it to run its course and cleanse that stain on her, but no… no… my perfect Xiyan… ruined forever…”

            Shen Yuan found his gaze darting back to Luo Binghe, who’s own features seemed to be making a journey through emotions.

            “What wonderings you might have had about your birth parents, I am sure these are not the answers you wanted. I’m sorry, Binghe… But she must have loved you. Who couldn’t?” Shen Yuan sighed quietly, raising his fan a bit higher to cover his face. “Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, I know what I said about fleshing out the backstory, but… you really were too cruel to this Protagonist of yours!”

            “…You killed her…” Tianlang-Jun said dully, the sudden silence of the room nearly deafening.

            “She killed herself!” the old man snarled. “I was willing to be merciful. Even on the banks of that horrid river where I found her- if she had admitted she was wrong, I would have given her the antidote I had prepared. It was her own pride and your disgusting influence that took her from us!”

            “You killed her!” Tianlang-Jun repeated, rage coloring his voice at last.

            “But before she died, she saved the child she bore from you,” Shang Qinghua said, placing a hand on the elder demon’s shoulder, even as the snake there hissed. “I told you- she never betrayed you. Your campaign here is based on a falsehood this man concocted to sow seeds of discord.”

            “It seems Lao Gonghzu’s list of offences grows ever longer,” Luo Binghe said with a hateful sneer, and something under Shen Yuan’s ribs swooped slightly. “To have made a mockery of this one’s Shizun and treated him poorly, you were already consigned to your fate. But to know this as well? Lao Gongzhu you truly are… a most despicable person.”

            “Let me have him,” Tianlang-Jun said, something dark and inhuman entering his voice. “Let me have my justice and I will agree to whatever armistice you desire. I swear it on my blood as a Heavenly Demon!”

            “Shizun,” Luo Binghe suddenly said, turning back to where Shen Yuan stood clustered between his martial brothers. “I should think now would be a fitting time for you to return to Qing Jing, while this humble disciple helps clean up the filth that has been brought to his attention.”

            “Excellent recommendation,” Shen Jiu said airily by his side, a sneer on his lips as he linked arms with his brother. “Let the little wolf get some well-deserved bonding time with its father, Shen Yuan. You and I have other matters to discuss back at the house. Zhangmen-shixiong?”

            “Indeed. It seems this matter is being resolved with appropriate measures.” Yue Qingyuan agreed, something dark hiding underneath his polite, unwavering smile. “You will keep an eye on things, Qinghua?”

            “Yeah, yeah,” Airplane dismissed with a wave. “I’ve got it all in hand. I’ll check in with you once they’re done.”

            “Binghe?” Shen Yuan called, pausing even as his brother tried to tug him back towards the door. “Come by once you’re finished here?”

            “Not at this hour,” Shen Jiu shot down. “He can come in the morning with a proper proposal or else he can stay in here with his own ilk. Now come on.”

            But by the look in Luo Binghe’s eyes, Shen Yuan hoped the young man understood his meaning.

***

            The first recognition was warmth, followed by the soft haze of cognizance returning.

            “Shizun?” a voice called with some hesitation.

            Shen Yuan blinked slowly, the blurred edges of the space coming into focus as Luo Binghe leaned in close, a hopeful, nervous spark in his eyes.

            “Please forgive this humble disciple’s forwardness,” the half-demon continued. “But Lord Shen barred my entry from the bamboo house, and I did not wish to disobey Shizun’s direct invitation. It is my honor to host Shizun in the dream realm instead, if he is permitting.”

            Shen Yuan smiled, breathing through the slight feeling of vertigo as he sat up, his mind anchoring into the dreamscape. “That’s fine. Its what I was hoping for anyway.”

            “Oh?”

            Shen Yuan turned slightly, feeling flushed as Luo Binghe continued to stare at him with the same clear adoration as he had in the past. He wondered just how long this boy had been thinking such things?! “This Shen Yuan… is lucky to have such protective siblings, but there comes a time where the most honest moments are best to be shared in private. My elder brother would not agree to such a thing at present, given how things have been. So… this is best.”

            “Mm,” Luo Binghe hummed gently, extending a hand to help Shen Yuan out of the replication of his bed. “Then let this Luo Binghe make Shizun comfortable, and we can talk about whatever he wishes.”

            Shen Yuan allowed the half-demon to cling loosely to his arm as they exited the dream-construct of the main bedroom in the bamboo house, silently shooting the other a look. Where had all the stickiness gone?? Hello? Luo Binghe? This is the part where you shamelessly throw yourself into this master’s lap and whine about something well within your own power to fix! Are you sick??

            “Something is on Luo Binghe’s mind,” Shen Yuan settles on instead, kneeling at the table in the main room that is already laden with tea and snacks. “Tell me, what bothers you? Did something happen with Tianlang-Jun and your cousin?”

            “It is nothing,” the man denied with a small shake of his head. “What was learned with the two of them… I would rather leave for another time.”

            “Then why is Binghe so far away?”

            It was true- for as long as he had been Shen Qingqiu without the sharper edges, Luo Binghe had been stuck to him like glue. From tea to martial training, he had always found a way to be right by Shen Yuan’s side. But now, he had settled on the complete other end of the table, its maw of tasty offerings yawning wide between them.

            “…would Shizun rather I sit closer?”

            Shen Yuan sighed. “All this time apart, and now you’re going to make me ask for you to sit next to me?” He shook his head, a fond smile lifting the corners of his lips. “I think we’re past this point, don’t you? I mean, not three shichen ago, we were much closer than that. What’s the harm in sitting side by side now?”

            He could feel the absolute blazing inferno that was painting his skin as such casually shameless words left his lips, and he couldn’t bear to look at Luo Binghe any longer, directing his gaze down into his own lap, where his fingers were suddenly very interested in the hems of his sleeping robe’s sleeves. But it was true!! He’d been sitting in Luo Binghe’s lap letting the protagonist play tonsil hockey with him, he wasn’t doing this whole thing!

            He was so preoccupied with his thoughts he almost missed said protagonist slowly rounding the table to settle next to him, apprehension on his face.

            Shen Yuan lost the battle to resist reaching out to poke the furrows between his eyebrows. “Tell me what’s got you acting so strange.”

            “Shizun… really does want me around?”

            Shen Yuan blinked. Hadn’t they already gone over this? “Who else would I want instead? No one is my Binghe but my Binghe.”

            “Even if your Binghe is a demon?”

            “I already knew.”

            “Even if your Binghe… were a monster?”

            “Binghe is many things, but never a monster, and never unwanted,” Shen Yuan said decidedly. “From the moment I learned your name, I knew Luo Binghe would be a favorite of mine. Nothing since that time has changed that knowledge.”

            Something in Luo Binghe’s shoulders softened, and he nodded. “Shizun… really did come at the time I needed him most. With the knowledge this one has learned today, he wonders if it was not some gift sent to a wayward son by his lost mothers.”

            “I don’t know,” Shen Yuan said honestly. “There are things that I can’t share, because they aren’t mine alone. But… I can say that I am happy and grateful to have been the one brought to be in Binghe’s life.”

            “Why did Shizun come?” Luo Binghe asked. “Lord Shen had many qi deviations in the past, but he remained himself after. Sometimes even worse. What about that time was different? Why did you hide?”

            “I imagine it was the severity of it,” Shen Yuan recited with a shrug, shifting so he could lean up against Luo Binghe’s side as he reached to swirl a cup of tea. “Heart demons can be very powerful if left unchecked, and he had many at the time. In the end… what he truly needed was a level of meditation one cannot achieve when surrounded by the chaos of the mortal world. He needed a deep, extensive seclusion to realign his meridians, but of course people couldn’t know that Qing Jing was without its leader for such a long period of time, even if they had a designated stand-in. It would have had implications about the Sect.”

            “So Lord Shen enlisted the help of his brother,” Luo Binghe filled in.

            “It was all very quiet, of course,” Shen Yuan agreed easily with a satisfied sip of the tea. “Even the other Lords didn’t know until I had no choice but to take confidence in Yue Qingyuan and Shang Qinghua.”

            “But Mu Qingfang should have noticed when he examined you.”

            “Lord Shen actively avoids Mu-shidi at all costs,” Shen Yuan dismissed. “And our spiritual veins are nearly identical. It was a simple matter to cover things.”

            “And Hong Jing never reacted because you were not a demon, nor was it a possession,” Luo Binghe continued. “You fooled them all so easily, with such a simple thing.”

            “It was a lot easier once I gave up on being wholly like my brother,” Shen Yuan admitted, ignoring the small stab at the mention of possession. “I know he presents a sterner face, but… I just couldn’t stand to act like you disciples weren’t adorable. And in spite of what he might say, I know he would agree on the whole.”

            “He doesn’t like me, though. He never has.”

            Shen Yuan turned, bumping their shoulders together with a soft smile. “He will. He just needs time to come around to it now that his head is on a bit straighter, is all. And even if he never does, I like you quite a lot.”

            “…Shen Yuan…” A warm hand found its place gently cupping the transmigrator’s cheek. “… This Luo Binghe… he… I- I love you.”

            Shen Yuan felt his smile stretch so wide it almost hurt as he looked up at the other. “Silly boy.” He leaned into the touch. “This Shen Yuan… feels the same.”

            The blush on his face was going to burn the dream realm into the ground if he didn’t do something, so Shen Yuan followed his instincts and shifted, pressing up to place a soft kiss on the half-demon’s lips.

            There were less enjoyable ways to spend a dream, after all, and he wasn’t going to complain about the joy Binghe seemed to radiate as they traded kisses back and forth until dawn.

Chapter Text

            The formal treaty was announced three days after Tianlang-Jun’s vow in exchange for his own justice, the various leaders required meeting to discuss concessions and repayments until the general consensus was reached.

            As long as each kept to their word and minded their own, there would at last be peace between the Human and Demon Realms.

            If only there could be peace in the bamboo house.

            “It is entirely too little,” Shen Jiu sniffed, sliding the document with the proposal closed. “A mere ten thousand spirit stones and copies of ancient texts? Is this really your opening gift? Do you think my brother worth so little?”

            “Jiu-Ge,” Shen Yuan groaned, dropping his head into his hands as Tianlang-Jun simply laughed beside his equally suffering son. “You can stop now.”

            “It is good that Lord Shen is so steadfast in the worth of his kin!” Tianlang-Jun praised, earning an annoyed squint from the elder brother. “But, as this one has been trapped under a mountain for nearly thirty years, and my son has been focusing more on paying his employees fairly than building a treasury, it is the most reasonable place I could advise to start from.”

            Shen Jiu sniffed dispassionately. “Making you beggars once we move on to the bridal price.”

            “Ge.” Shen Yuan tried again. “We’re not officially even dating yet! Frankly, they could give me a crisp high five and I’d be done with it.”

            “Shush,” his elder brother chastened. “This sect has an image to uphold, and you are a terrible negotiator.”

            “Ah, the joys of young love,” Tianlang-Jun sighed wistfully. “But your brother has a point, Master Shen. There are things about status to be conveyed, and no shortage of fine details in a courtship that others will pick apart once it is announced. You two are hardly a commoner's match, after all.”

            “Perhaps younger hearts would care more for a walk around the peak than to sit and listen to their elders barter,” came an interruption from the front hall, heralding the arrival of Yue Qingyuan. “Since Qing Jing saw fit to begin negotiations on their own.”

            “It is not my fault you elected to be late,” Shen Jiu answered haughtily, turning his face away slightly, his fan not angled quite right to hide his soft smile from Shen Yuan. “They are not to roam without an escort.”

            “How fortunate that I have already arranged for such,” Yue Qingyuan smiled, ushering Shen Yuan up from the table. “They’re waiting outside.”

            Shen Yuan made sure to bow perfectly, and mouth “thank you!” to his Yue-gege before all but fleeing out the front hall and out onto the soft, springing grass of the lawn, turning to grab Luo Binghe’s hands with a smile.

            “Its not appropriate for you to touch,” came Liu Qingge’s voice, somewhat shattering the moment like glass.

            Liu Qingge and Luo Binghe seemed to lock into a staring contest for several long moments before Shen Yuan sighed and stepped back.

            “Shizun!” the half-demon whined.

            “Oh, hush you,” Shen Yuan admonished before leaning in slightly. “There will be time for such things later.”

            That seemed to be enough to get the man to at least pretend to have some decorum, letting the other turn back to the Bai Zhan Peak Lord. “Greetings, Liu…shidi?” He stopped to ponder for a moment. “I don’t really know if I’m still allowed to call you that…”

            “Its…that’s fine,” the war god eventually managed, turning stiffly. “I’m supposed to watch you while Zhangmen Shixiong and Shen Qingqiu speak with the demon embassy.”

            “Mm,” Shen Yuan hummed, flicking his fan lightly. It was one of the new ones Jiu-ge had made for him during his absence from the peaks, the guard a dark mahogany paired with a light green silk painted with an image of Haku the dragon.

            His Jiu-ge really was a softie under all that ice.

            When he felt they had stood there awkwardly for a moment too long, he abruptly turned and headed for the back forest behind the house, where beautiful scenery and privacy were abundant- no one dared to venture past the bamboo house except to reach the shrine to old masters at the very topmost edge of the peak, and very few people had reason enough to go there. He smiled as the red and black hems of Luo Binghe joined in the periphery of his vision, and the sounds of Liu Qingge following behind echoed through the bamboo groves.

            Feeling a bit awkward still, Shen Yuan turned to admire the natural beauty of the peak, humming softly as he swept between the stalks. It gradually morphed, moving from one half-line of familiar notes to another, until he landed on one he’d been particularly fond of in his first life, from that western film trilogy about the halfling with the ring…

            …maybe that could be the next story he shared with his brothers. Binghe might enjoy it too. He’d have to see if Shang Qinghua had ever seen it- he could use him as a springboard if he ended up forgetting any of the more minute details.

            They strolled for a fair while before Jiu-ge and Yue-gege found them, halfway past the path to the reflection falls and to the stairs down to the meditation pavilions.

            “Congratulations,” Yue Qingyuan greeted them with a smile. “An agreement has been drafted.”

            “Break it and I’ll break your bones,” Shen Jiu threatened, stalwartly ignoring the other Peak Lord in the grove.

            “Ge.”

            “It will never be my intention to dishonor or disband my commitments in this,” Luo Binghe vowed seriously.

            Shen Jiu harrumphed, elegantly gliding forward to wrap his arm around Shen Yuan’s, their matching robes swishing pleasingly as he swept them down the path. “Regardless, now that it’s been handled, we can get on with more important things. Your pet wolf may come as well, I suppose. We’ve put it off too long already, and I will not dally to find where Ming Fan escorted his father off to while he waits for his escort to Tian Temple.”

            “And what are we getting done now?” Shen Yuan asked, throwing Binghe an apologetic look as he was led down, smiling as the half-demon took up a post on his other side, Yue Qingyuan graciously moving to stand between Shen Jiu and Liu Qingge.

            Shen Qingqiu did not deign to answer, simply shooting him a mischievous smile and taking lead along the path, the others trailing after. He wasn’t really sure why Liu Qingge was still there, but at least he and his brother weren’t trying to rip each other’s throats out? Or Luo Binghe’s.

            So that was nice.

            And he couldn’t stop himself from flicking out his own fan as they made their way down to the more populated areas of Qing Jing, hiding his smile as many of the white-and-teal-clad ducklings stopped in their tracks to openly gape as the two Shen brothers passed by. Even a few of the hallmasters paused about their ways, necks nearly snapping with the power of the double take.

The rumor mill must be running slow after Bing-ge’s rough treatment of the sect earlier in the week.

            While his face remained perfectly composed, Shen Yuan could feel the slight tremor of suppressed laughter shaking between him and his Jiu-ge as they walked down through the main Qing Jing gate as perfect mirrors joined at the hip.

He was still trying to formulate a trajectory as they were walking their little hoard across one of the main rainbow bridges, the glittering hilts of the sword cliffs glimmering closer, when Shen Jiu decided to pick up their earlier conversation again. “Powerful as your battle fans may be, there’s no excuse for a respectable cultivator of your caliber to not have their own spiritual sword. I will not always be nearby for you to execute using Xiu Ya.”

            Shen Yuan’s legs suddenly stopped working, dragging to a halt as he looked at his brother with wide eyes.

            “What?” Shen Jiu snapped with a specific tone of voice that betrayed he was, in fact, laughing at Shen Yuan. “You didn’t think I would let you walk around without proper protection if you’re going to insist on resting with wolves, did you?”

            “Only sect members get to draw from Wian Jian’s halls,” Shen Yuan said stupidly, looking back at the peak rising before them.

            “You’re a member of Qing Jing, you idiot,” Shen Qingqiu answered, drawing himself up tall with a crack of his fan. “Honestly.”

            “Shen Yuan will always have a place with Cang Qiong,” Yue Qingyuan added on in a far kinder tone from behind his Jiu-ge’s shoulder. “He is as much a part of our family now as anyone.”

            “Oh…”

            Shen Yuan blinked quickly, flicking his fan back and forth in front on his eyes to calm the heat that seemed to be spreading. He knew he and Jiu-ge were thick as thieves, obviously. And he had expected to be allowed to visit him and Yue-gege every now and then, like a good sibling should. But… he just hadn’t ever really considered that he would be invited to stay long-term.

            “Idiot,” Shen Jiu repeated, much softer the second time, even as he smacked his shoulder with his fan. “What goes through that head of yours?”

            His elder brother’s grip on his arm tightened, subtly tucking him close to his side once more as they continued up through the sword peak’s gate.

            “Ah, so it really is true!” Wei Qingwei called out, as he descended the steps. “I must say, Shen-shixiong, I had some suspicions as to who your mystery person might be, but part of me still can’t believe I didn’t get thwacked by the bellows into seeing double!”

            “Allow this Shixiong to make a proper introduction, then,” Shen Qingqiu said, releasing Shen Yuan’s arm to push him forward slightly. “Wei-shidi, meet this Master’s younger brother, Shen Yuan. He is to enter the sword yards today with the hope of retrieving a blade of his own.”

            “It is my honor to meet you properly, this time,” Shen Yuan smiled with a bow. “Please forgive my earlier deceits.”

            “As long as you keep up with teaching those little scholars how to not chip their blades, all is forgiven.”

            Shen Yuan cast a quick look towards the Qing Jing Lord before replying with a smile. “I can only promise to try.”

            “Good enough for me! Well then?” Wei Qingwei clapped him rough on the shoulder, making him stumble. “Let’s get you a sword! I’m sure that after overseeing so many of Qing Jing’s disciples, you’ve got the spiel memorized, but I’m going to give it to you again, just in case. Now, a spiritual sword isn’t something to mess around with, so you’ve got to-“

***

            Shen Yuan had been there when Luo Binghe had claimed Zheng Yang. It had been a glorious day, one that had filled him with pride and a great desire to go down the steps to the sword yards to see if it really was like how Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky had described, with glittering metal meeting stone in a reliquary of blades waiting for new masters.

            Standing there now, he felt much more humbled than before.

            Calling it a yard wasn’t accurate. True, the newer forges were there, hilts littered up the sides of the rock face that shielded the yawning maw of the caverns below, swords clustering closer and closer together as one drew near. But the true breadth of the space rested under the rock, in the twisting innards of the peak itself.

            Where the Lingxi Caves were sprawling with qi and a feeling of peaceful quietude, these caverns felt different to Shen Yuan in their reverent silence- almost as though they, too, were waiting for what was to come, bathed in glinting metal and small chips of luminescent stone.

            He’d heard many stories about how other members of the sect had found their spiritual blades, even Shen Jiu had been pestered into sharing his own sword trial, where he had wandered in and found Xiu Ya leaning mostly upright in a crystalline pool of water, the hilt catching in the light of his night pearl and just waiting to be drawn.

            How had he done that though?? There were thousands of swords here! The idea of just grabbing one felt… well… wrong! Wei Qingwei had assured him that he would know which sword was meant for him, if there was one to be found at all.

            Shen Yuan continued to wander through the paths, deeper into the yards, and he watched as the tight clusters of swords slowly began to thin out again, their hilts taking on a more tarnished, archaic edge in their designs. Older swords, either never drawn or awaiting new masters after their old ones had died.

            Maybe this area would have something that stood out to him a bit more? Maybe if he let out a bit of qi, one of them might respond?

            Almost as soon as the thought entered his mind, he felt… something. Not quite a tug, per se, but something akin, pulling gently from his left, down a long, dark stretch of tunnel.

            He paused for a moment, looking back the way he had come to where daylight had long since vanished between the stones, and turned again to proceed. Jiu-ge was offering him something truly special, and he had no intention of throwing it back in his face, after all.

            Shen Yuan sent a small pulse of qi down into the dark.

            A little pulse of something foreign answered him.

            Well then. That was that, he supposed.

            The walls narrowed as Shen Yuan continued on, and soon became slimy with a layer of condensation, making Shen Yuan grimace slightly as he turned sideways to slip through a particularly tight part of the passage.

            He was dismayed to find out it would not be the only tight squeeze he would have to work through as he ventured deeper, unsure of how long he wandered after the quiet feeling of something at the other end.

            This would be so much easier if he was the size of a fourteen-year-old like everybody else who did this!

            He swore slightly as he came to yet another thin passage, this time with a lip protruding from the bottom as well, forcing him to contort his tall frame even further to try and fit through. Light was seeping in from somewhere up ahead and he was curious to see what he’d find so deep below the surface, or if it was a refraction through quartz or something. That was a thing, right?

He was a novel and monster nerd, not a geologist.

A low, deep rumble was coming from somewhere on the other side, and Shen Yuan frowned as he finished weaseling through the crack in the wall, slipping once he was through and stumbling down the corridor, only to trip again, sliding down the wet path for a long flailing moment before being able to stop and catch his breath.

            Not that it was worth much as he immediately gasped once he looked up again.

            A large cavern opened up before him, a wide crack high up in the wall letting the vibrant golden light of the late afternoon spill through, lighting up the staggering cliffs covered in vibrant greenery, each rise bringing up closer and closer to a large waterfall that cascaded down the back wall, seemingly split from the one that poured out from the quenching river that ran alongside the forges and poured out over the cliffs to the valley below.

            And there, centered towards the back of the ensuing lake, stood a sword.

            Something deep inside him settled at the sight of it, its fine silver glinting under the gentle droplets of the waterfall. Almost before he had consciously decided, Shen Yuan found himself stripping off his muddied outer layers and wading into the water.

            It was surprisingly deeper than he had expected, dropping off steeply partway through to the extent that Shen Yuan found himself needing to outright swim to stay afloat as he made his way closer to the blade’s little island. Looking down, Shen Yuan was greeted with the sight of many swords littering the bottom of the lake, each glinting in the sun.

            “Someone will come for them too, one day,” Shen Yuan thought peaceably as his toes once again brushed solid mud under him, and he pulled his soaking wet self up onto the island.

            The sword stood perfectly upright, speared into the earth below it up to about a third of the blade, clinging small droplets of water along its flat and the thin, finely crafted cross guard. Small engravings decorated the metal, thin lines of floral embellishments curling around the hilt and dripping down to the center of the blade itself.

            It was perfect.

            “Hello,” Shen Yuan whispered, the roar of the waterfall suddenly sounding dull and far away. “My name is Shen Yuan.”

            His hand wrapped around the hilt, curling comfortably as he drew it up, finding no resistance as he pulled it free and turned it in his hand to find the characters engraved on the back side of the rain guard.

            Xiu Anxin.

            Shen Yuan felt something bright and free well up under his ribs at the sight of the name, an explosion of joy before it settled into something quieter.

            “I think we’ll get along just fine,” Shen Yuan said, feeling his consciousness shift, the roar of the waterfall returning all at once as the sword in his hand seemed to hum.

            Now he just had to figure out how to get back out.

***

            “Taking your sweet time as usual,” Jiu-ge sniped as Shen Yuan finally trudged up the steps to where masters waited for their disciples during sword selections. “I was about to send Wei-shidi to make sure you weren’t dead. You look a mess.”

            “Not dead,” Shen Yuan confirmed, slinging his soaked hair out of his face for the millionth time after his clambering ascent out of the waterfall cavern. His robes hadn’t made it easier, but he definitely couldn’t leave them behind and just hope his brother would accept the loss- the rest of the sect hadn’t gotten used to his modern sensibilities. Two had been put back on, with the third wrapped tight around the sword. “Just being thorough.”

            “Well, lets see it then,” Wei Qingwei said, rising to come over and take the blade. “Ah, it seems you and Qingqiu-Shixhiong are truly suited to twins, Shen Yuan! I hadn’t heard of Xiu Ya either when he pulled it, but this Xiu Anxin seems like a fine pair.”

            “And what an agreeable name,” Yue Qingyuan smiled from his place between Shen Jiu and Luo Binghe. “For Shen Qingqiu to cultivate elegance, and Shen Yuan to cultivate peace of mind. It is truly a blessing.”

            “Would you like to see, ge?” Shen Yuan asked, pulling Xiu Anxin fully from the robes and presenting it on the table.

            By Shen Jiu’s side, Xiu Ya seemed to hum in its sheath. “It seems we are all agreed,” Shen Jiu said after a moment, the almost imperceptible softening of his eyes leaving something in Shen Yuan all mushy. “We will have to design it an appropriate sheath.”

            “Let me craft it for you,” Wei Qingwei offered with another robust smack to Shen Yuan’s shoulder. “Consider it a welcoming gift.”

“We will leave it in Wei-shidi’s capable hands,” Shen Qingqiu agreed easily. “But for now, it may use a common sheath to bring it home.”

“Home,” Shen Yuan thought, warmth blooming in his heart.

Chapter Text

            Spring grew into the height of Summer, and Summer began to ebb back to Autumn, wherein Shen Yuan found himself once again pleasantly bound to a simple, repeating rhythm of life on Qing Jing Peak. Where his brother walked, he followed arm in arm, to each their respective display of affection. Although it took the other inhabitants of the peak several weeks to stop outwardly gaping and making terrible attempts at reconnaissance.

            Their efforts were particularly futile on the third and seventh day of each week, whereupon Shen Qingqiu allowed one Luo Binghe to enter the bamboo house with an air of reluctant haughtiness, the calm form of Zhuzhi-Lang trailing after to act as his chaperone as they bestowed fine courting gifts for his brother to consider.

            (If they ignored the fact that the elder heavenly demon seemed to “get turned around” several times during their visits, eventually leaving his young lord alone with his intended while the snake demon found his way back, well… who could blame the mild-mannered demon for getting lost in the hubbub of such a large sect? Certainly not Shen Yuan.)

            Once he was once again a familiar presence, Shen Jiu reinserted him into the flow of things with a simple “greet your Shen-Shifu properly” upon their first joint class, where more students got smacked for distractions than praised. As the week had gone on, it was agreed Shen Yuan would handle the less restrictive classes, and Shen Jiu would handle the more particular and exacting details of their students’ educations.

            They worked out the kinks from there.

            The peak lords who had not been involved in his resurrection, on the other hand, came with time, each in their own way. Some seemed to mind little, such as Wei Qingwei, who had already welcomed him with his receiving of Xiu Anxin. Others were… more hesitant, for which Shen Yuan refused to place any blame on them. He had deceived them for several years, after all! He would understand their need for processing time. But one by one, he was once again welcomed into the fold with smiles and quips.

            He had nearly fallen over with relief when Liu Qingge had arrived on his doorstep one afternoon, shoving a trio of missing fans into his arms with a berating comment about misplacing his things, followed by an invitation to a hunt.

            (The pearl-winged leopard geckos had been beautiful once they’d been calmed enough to stop breathing fire at local villagers- he’d made several illustrations of the nest they found to take home to Jiu-ge.)

            Which, overall, was why he had no reservations when Shen Jiu had arrived home after lessons one day and told him to put on his nicest robes, as he would be accompanying him to an important meeting with the other Lords and wanted to look the part as a pair.

            “You must eventually learn to dress by yourself,” his brother grumbled, dutifully straightening his collars and knots after Shen Yuan had emerged from the room with more than two hairs out of place. “It will not do to appear slovenly, and I will not be quiet if you show up somewhere looking a fool.”

            “Forgive me, oh Perfectly Sculpted One,” Shen Yuan snarked back, smiling at the fan that smacked up against the back of his head. If he thought the five layers he’d managed to agree to were a pain, the nine he was currently adorned with were finicky hell. “It’s just the monthly meeting, right? Why are you so pressed?”

            “You missed last month’s session while you were supervising the juniors’ nighthunt,” Shen Qingqiu answered, scoffing slightly as he fixed the draping ribbons of Shen Yuan’s guan so they hung evenly. “It’s important that you look your best now to show that the other lords still have your respect, and that you are deserving of theirs.”

            Shen Yuan sighed lightly, shaking his head as he allowed his brother to tut and fuss over his appearance for a while longer before they made their way to the rainbow bridge to Qiong Ding.

            “Why don’t we fly?” Shen Yuan suggested with his best dazzling smile.

            “Your sword bond is still young, and you’ve been using it heavily the last few days,” Shen Jiu refuted. “I won’t have us late to arrive because you were overeager and ended up plummeting to your death between the peaks on an untempered sword.”

            “Ughhhhh. Jiu-ge, you wouldn’t let me fall!”

            “If it was because you were stupid, I absolutely would.”

            Shen Yuan flicked his hair back over one shoulder, settling in to silently pout and sulk in a way he knew would drive his brother mad while still being playful.

            He failed to consider the fact that his brother was a dirty lying little troll who would absolutely play him for a fool on his own, the elder hiding a smirk as they swept into the hall, the thrones of the Peak Lords of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect standing on a raised dais in a proud semicircle.

            “What… is that?” he managed to eek out, his eyes locked on the newly placed throne on the second level of the dais, right next to where his brother would hold vigil at the side of the Sect Leader.

            On the annotation table to the side of the seat, there was a formal crown and what was clearly a very finely carved, very expensive looking jade talisman.

            “That,” his brother answered, puffing up with clear pride, “is yours.”

            “…” Shen Yuan looked around at the assembled lords. “You cannot be serious.”

            “Yeah, we paid all that money for a joke,” Shang Qinghua sighed with a slow shake of his head. “You got us, bro. Found out!”

            “Be quiet, idiot,” Shen Jiu sniffed haughtily. “Show some respect to your shixiong.”

            “We are entirely serious, Shen Yuan,” Yue Qingyuan gently intervened, stepping forward from the crowd of waiting lords. “We took an anonymous vote last time we all gathered, and this decision is unanimous.”

            “But it’s never been done!” Shen Yuan argued. “Cang Qiong has always had twelve lords. I didn’t even study as a disciple!”

             “Our masters left Cang Qiong in our hands, to mold it as we see fit within the framework of our predecessors’ honorable rulings,” came the Sect Leader’s response. “In all I know of you, Shen Yuan, I cannot help but feel that those masters would have found no fault. And as Cang Qiong is now ours, we must grow it the best we can, as they did before us.”

            “We may both be immortal, but I will not ascend without you,” Shen Jiu whispered, the tines of his fan spread between them conspiratorially before he straightened once again. “You have done the work, and done it well. You deserve the reward that dedication raises.”

            “We agreed to a few stipulations, of course,” Qi Qingqi added on. “You are the youngest among us, and the last to join rank, so you would be counted as thirteenth, not third, even though you would be a Lord over Qing Jing.”

            “If, that is, you choose to accept the offer.” Yue Qingyuan was a very good politician, but Shen Yuan did not doubt that the smile turning up the corners of his lips was genuine. “Now that Qingqiu-shidi has returned and settled in, we would understand if your desires carried you elsewhere.”

            “Speak for yourself,” Shen Jiu huffed, gliding forward to link their arms together. “If you don’t take it, brother, I’ll never give you a moment’s peace.”

            “I…I don’t know what to say,” Shen Yuan chuckled, his mind still whirling.

            “Then say yes, numbskull,” Shang Qinghua encouraged. “Get that bread!”

            Thoughts turned through his mind, faster than he could catch them. He was so off script! Did the script even matter any more? Did he want the script to matter?

            Jiu-ge had been hinting at something in the last few weeks- a change to their schedule or responsibilities… but Shen Yuan had thought that maybe he had been intending to ask Shen Yuan to take on more of the grunt work so his brother could spend more time on Qiong Ding with Yue-gege not… not this!

            “I’m really not qualified,” Shen Yuan hemmed.

            “You ran the peak for seven years,” Jiu-ge pointed out dryly. “This Lord is of the opinion that such labor at quality is more than enough to consider merit.”

            Murmurs of agreement echoed around the chamber, the various lords muttering over their respective praise, making Shen Yuan feel akin to an overripe tomato as he whipped his fan out to hide his face.

            “It seems… the choice has already been made.” He shifted nervously. “If you all truly wish for me to… If this is what you wish, then this Shen Yuan would be honored to continue calling you his martial siblings.”

[Congratulations! Congratulations!! Congratulations!!! Important things must be said three times! Host User has unlocked a New Title: Beloved Shidi of Cang Qiong!]

[Host User has a new optional quest: {{To Be a Peak Lord}}]

[Quest Objective: Prepare for your Ascension Ceremony!]

            Shen Yuan stumbled as Wei Qingwei slapped him on the back, a laugh ringing out as the other lords swarmed him, each with a suggestion or advice, and he watched as Lin Qingshui approached his elder brother and the sect leader, their divination tools in hand. No doubt prepared to find an auspicious day…

            It was kind of overwhelming, honestly, but he found that as he was swept up in the tide, his lips were turned up in a smile.

***

            “They’ll probably call me something like Shen Qingxiao,” Shen Yuan laughed. “I cannot escape the role of little brother, it seems.”

            “I am sure Yue-shibo will pick a name that suits you,” Luo Binghe murmured against his ear, draped over his shoulder as they continued their illicit date in the dream realm. “I would be honored to be allowed to bring Shizun a gift once the official Ascension is announced.”

            “Binghe gives this one too much already,” Shen Yuan chuckled. “I’ll never have to wear the same robes twice with how many you’ve been bringing lately.”

            “Shizun deserves only the best,” his… his boyfriend (?) intended (?) stated like it was a matter of fact. “It seems to be one of the few things this Luo Binghe and Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu agree on.”

            “How are things in the demon realm?” Shen Yuan asked, changing the subject as he moved a piece in their game of weiqi. “Do you think you’ll be able to make it for your end of the week visit?”

            “The Shu clans are being more difficult than expected,” Luo Binghe answered with a sigh. “It is my hope that I will not be delayed, but if the conflict doesn’t come to an end tomorrow, I will leave it in my general’s hands for the time being. I would hate for another to get to congratulate Shizun before me.”

            “Binghe, conquest in battle is important if the demons are going to respect you properly! You can’t just up and leave!”

            “Mmm,” Luo Binghe hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of the other’s neck. “The demon realm means nothing to this one if it is not being secured for Shizun’s glory.”

            “You’re incorrigible,” Shen Yuan sighed, swallowing slightly. “All this one needs is for Luo Binghe to be happy, and it will be enough for him.”

            “To love someone is to give not only what they need, but also whatever they may want. If the demon realm answers to this Luo Binghe, it answers to Shizun, and he will be safe to see all the oddities of the world his heart might desire.”

            “Stop that,” Shen Yuan hissed, swiping at the half-demon’s arm halfheartedly. “You’re being all sappy again. Just… just play the game!”

            If said game devolved into kisses (as they tended to in the dream realm) no one else needed to know.

***

            “…and this I vow, witnessed before man and the Heaven’s, as writ by the laws and commandments of the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect,” Shen Yuan said, his solemn voice soft as he knelt before the sect leader’s throne, Xiu Anxin braced across his lap.

            Jiu-ge had grilled him on the exact wording for ages as he fluffed the ceremonial garb and made sure every single iota of Shen Yuan was pristine and immaculate. The oaths of a Peak Lord were long, meant to bind a person who would live for several centuries. But he had managed to memorize it, and he hadn’t fucked up the sword drawing bit of the ceremony either, so he felt like he was doing pretty great!

            Now, it was just a matter of Yue Qingyuan pronouncing him.

            “By the recommendation of Qing Jing’s Lord, Shen Qingqiu, and the agreement of all the Lords of Cang Qiong,” the Sect Leader said with a clear, magnanimous voice, “I, Sect Leader Yue Qingyuan, recognize the cultivator known as Shen Yuan, and hereby extend to him a place among the Qing generation.” He gestured to the elder of the Shen brothers. “Shen Qingqiu, if you please.”

            His brother made no move to hide the pleased smile lurking in the corners of his lips as he stepped forward.

            “You accept this position of your own free will and of a sound heart and mind?” his brother asked.

            “I do,” Shen Yuan answered, the nerves of the moment suddenly hitting him all at once. He was doing this!

             Fitting the formal guan over Shen Yuan’s topknot and sliding the elegant pin home in its casing, Shen Jiu made a small humming noise before pulling the younger up to his feet and tying a jade token onto his belt.

            “As the one who spoke first, this Master has been given the honor of sharing the name Zhangmen-Shixiong has chosen for our newest martial sibling.” He turned, encouraging Shen Yuan to follow and face out towards the other Peak Lords and their attending Head Disciples. “From this day forward, you shall be known as the Second Lord of Qing Jing Peak, Shen Qingchun.”

            Clear Spring.

            “I found it particularly fitting,” Shen Jiu added on as he pressed a cup of wine into his hands, low enough to only be heard by Shen Yuan as the others raised their glasses with a toast.

            Shen Qingchun raised the smooth rim to his cup, sipping around his smile as Yue Qingyuan ushered them all off to a celebratory banquet with the disciples.

            Something warm settled in his chest as he was pulled along by his brother, arm in arm as always.

***

            “I’m glad you could both come,” Shen Yuan said, smiling as his brother and Yue Qingyuan crossed over the entryway of the bamboo house. “I know you’ve just got back from the meeting for the next conference. I hope you’re not too tired.”

            “Its always a pleasure to spend time together,” Yue Qingyuan said with a grin as he helped Shen Qingqiu out of his heavy cloak. “I hope you enjoyed the time alone.”

            “You act as though he didn’t secret a demon in here the very hour we crossed the sect wards,” Shen Jiu huffed, coming over to tap his little brother on the shoulder with his fan. “Well? Where is your little wolf?”

            “Setting the table,” Shen Yuan answered, linking their arms to walk together down the hall, smiling as they rounded into the main room where Luo Binghe had made a beautiful table display filled with dishes wafting tempting aromas.

            “…must he have cooked?” Shen Jiu sighed lightly, something flashing across his features before vanishing behind his fan.

            “I was with Binghe the whole time,” Shen Yuan assured him. “And I even put charms on all the dishes so he couldn’t tamper with anything while I wasn’t looking, just so you’d be comfortable.”

            “Mm…”

            “Just give it a chance, Jiu-ge? He really is quite good!”

            “…tea for now, provided he ever actually learned how to brew it.”

            Shen Yuan smiled, ushering them all to sit at the table, one to each side. True to his word, Shen Jiu stared down the cup of tea placed before him for a long moment before making eye contact with both his brother and the half-demon and taking a small, dainty sip.

            “…passable.”

            The rest of the meal continued in a slightly stilted cadence, where Shen Yuan was content to beam his smile to the world as the other three played nice. He even managed to get Shen Jiu to eat some rice! He checked it for poison twice, but he ate it!

            “So…” Shen Yuan started once the awkwardness became too thick. “Um, as much as I’ve just missed you both while you’ve been gone, I did have another reason for inviting you to dinner with Binghe and I tonight.”

            “How convenient,” Yue Qingyuan said with a smile as he set aside his chopsticks, his bowl at just the right level of empty to be polite without swaying one way or the other on enthusiasm. “As it was, we had intended to invite you to dine as well. But please, speak first.”

            “Well…” Shen Yuan looked over at Luo Binghe before turning back with a nervous chuckle. “Its just… Luo Binghe and I have been courting for a while now, and… well…” He took a steadying breath and focused his gaze on the fluttering fan of his brother. “We discussed it, and with your permission, we would like to get married in the spring.”

            “No.” Shen Qingqiu’s fan snapped closed with a loud crack! “You cannot.”

            “But Jiu-ge!”

            “No!”

            “Ge, please, I know you have your reservations but-!”

            “The sect cannot afford four Peak Lords getting married this spring!” Shen Jiu smacked his fan down on the table, his voice carrying an air of finality. “With the repairs we’ve had to furnish after this year, we’ll be lucky to afford one proper wedding for the quarter and propriety dictates that seniors should be first.”

            Shen Yuan gaped at him for a long moment, noting that Yue-gege seemed to be struggling to breathe before a case of airy laughter wheezed from him.

            “You two are engaged?! Why didn’t you say anything?!” It was apparently Shen Yuan’s turn to throw a fit, his own fan sailing to thump painlessly against his brother’s chest before falling to the ground. “You better not have told Qi-shijie before me!”

            “Don’t be ridiculous,” Shen Jiu huffed, his posture easing slightly as Yue Qingyuan put his arm around him. “Who else would I care to tell before you? Besides… we only decided yesterday. But as we are getting married in the spring, I suppose you may have next fall.”

            “Summer?” Shen Yuan asked hopefully.

            “Give that An Ding rat a chance to breathe before you shove another major event onto the budget, Yuan-di. A wedding to an emperor is going to take time to pay for.” Shen Jiu rolled his eyes.

            “Who’s the fourth?” Shen Yuan asked suddenly. “You said four lords wanted the spring, but we’re only three.”

            “Mobei-Jun made quite the declaration of intent for Shang Qinghua in the middle of court a few days ago,” Luo Binghe supplied. “Surprising, considering most of the demons in the palace thought they were already married.”

            Shen Yuan blinked. “Heh, good for them! And Shang Qinghua managed to not confuse it for some weird demon dominance thing?”

            “For once, it seems Qinghua’s mind has finally worked in his own favor,” Yue Qingyuan agreed. “We’ll account for him next winter, as it will likely be taking place in the Northern Desert.”

            “Fitting, given his partner,” Jiu-ge hummed. “But enough of that. Yuan-di?”

            “Yes, Jiu-ge?” Shen Yuan perked up as Shen Qingqiu got to his feet.

            “Come with me for a moment, there’s something else I wish to discuss with you.”

            Shen Yuan gave Luo Binghe’s hand a gentle squeeze, before he rose to follow after the other. Shen Qingqiu was quiet as they exited the house, walking down the steps of the porch and across the lawn towards the bamboo groves.

            “Jiu-ge?” Shen Yuan asked after a while of walking, following the other up the path towards the tallest point of the peak, where the shrine to the old masters lay.

            “Shh,” his brother hushed him gently, approaching the shrine and lighting a few sticks of incense. “Come kneel for my master with me for a while.”

            Quirking a brow, Shen Yuan humored him, kneeling before the altar and bowing his head reverently. Shen Jiu didn’t really seem like the sentimental type on the outside, but his master must have been a true force to be reckoned with if he would kneel for them even now.

            After several long minutes, the elder lord spoke again. “Are you happy, Yuan-di?”

            The urge to joke around was strong, but there was something in his brother’s face that kept him from quipping out some sarcastic remark. The air was too calm, the scent of smoke too heavy.

            “I think this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time,” he eventually confessed. “I know you have reservations about Luo Binghe, but I do genuinely believe he’s a good person. And I believe it when he says he cares about me, although I can’t really understand why.”

            “If he ever hurts you there won’t be a chance in hell that they’ll find his corpse when I’m done with him.”

            “Jiu-ge.”

            “I am serious, Yuan. But… if you truly wish it, then I will not oppose. Though, the demonic emperor cannot ignore his realm to come pander around here. A marriage to him… it will change things for us.”

            “I’ve got an idea for that,” Shen Yuan confessed, looking out towards the setting sun. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since we decided we wanted to ask, actually. There are two of us now, after all. We could take turns or something. Give us both some designated time to spend with our spouses, and our spouses dedicated time to focus on their own responsibilities.”

            “…those whelps are going to have to start calling that wolf ‘shizhang’ now… what hell has my life come to?” Shen Jiu rubbed a hand over his face with a sigh.

            “Don’t be a grump, it could be worse,” Shen Yuan admonished. “…Does that mean the Qiong Ding disciples will start calling you ‘shimu’?”

            He dodged with a bright laugh as a fan was hurled at his head and joyously fled back down through the bamboo towards the house, flush and out of breath as he flung himself behind Luo Binghe, watching his brother’s thin face force him to give up the chase and settle back down next to the sect leader to sip at the cold tea as though he were the picture of demure civility.

             If the two brothers kept shooting each other small grins and chatting about what would be needed for a “proper” ceremony for the remainder of the evening, well…

            Shen Yuan wouldn’t be ashamed of it.

Chapter Text

            The air was crisp, with the scent of Autumn thick on the air as Shen Qingchun walked along the path down the peak. The disciples were all trilling about, eager to make their way into the small town at the foot of the mountain where their families were waiting, ready to spend an evening together in celebration of the yearly Mid-Autumn Festival.

            His elder brother had elected to stay behind, citing the need to prepare the house for their own gathering later in the evening to avoid the chaos of the youths. (Could he really still call some of them youths? Those little ducklings he had found when he had first transmigrated were now well into their adult years, nearing the era where they might branch out and find little ducklings of their own… How quickly the time had passed!)

            “Shen-Shifu, do you think this year I might find someone who catches my token?” Ning YingYing asked him, cheerfully swaying her way down the path by his side.

            The master didn’t miss the way the Head Disciple’s face turned red a few paces away.

            “The only way to find out is to toss it,” he finally settled on saying, reaching over to pat her head. “But Ying-er deserves only the best, so she must pay attention carefully, alright?”

            “Hehe, yes Shifu!”

            Shen Qingchun smiled, watching as she bounded forward to link arms with a few of her shimei from Xian Shu Peak, their heads coming forward to titter.

            Technically speaking, he didn’t have to escort them himself. He also would not be attending to babysitting for the whole time. Once the majority of the disciples were accounted for with their respective families or the locals, the Second Lord of Qing Jing would turn the remainder of the festival watch over to the hallmasters who had volunteered, and make his own way back up to the bamboo house.

            It would be the first time to ever host a proper party there, and he couldn’t stand to miss it.

            As the small town’s gate finally came into view, the children were once again set abuzz- all but dashing through the last stretch into the waiting arms of parents and other family waiting for them.

            Shen Qingchun smiled graciously through the hoard of parents thanking him for their children’s education and wishes for his prosperous future. Where applicable, he would offer his own congratulations for studious discipleship and inquire on the few ins and outs that he had been trusted with by the students in question.

            For those whose families were too far to travel (or were too calloused to) Shen Qingchun lead deeper into the town, settling them with the communal celebrations to be watched over by the hallmasters with a gracious smile and a wish for a pleasant evening.

            Like all great festival days, there was a market set up. He had to pass through it on the way in, but with his little charges now the wonderfully chaotic responsibilities of the hall masters, he took his time looking around a bit on the way back out.

            Luo Binghe had been nothing short of generous in his gifts during the duration of their courtship, and Shen Yuan found himself always wondering if the things he gave in return were nice enough. While it was more common to give mooncakes during the festival, surely it wouldn’t be remiss to give something else as well? Luo Binghe could make mooncakes better than anyone else, so surely something in addition would make up for the lesser quality?

            There were plenty of little things- small jade rabbits and moon charms hanging off of beautiful displays, scrolls of poetry and paintings, even several guan shaped into lunar motifs, but none of it really stuck out to him as he wandered by.

            What did one gift an emperor who already had pretty much everything?

            Eventually, though, something caught his eye- a small stand tucked a bit out of the way, with several long cords draped over a bar, and rows of small ornaments organized to the side.

            “Greetings, Immortal Master,” the stall tender said as he approached. “Do you see anything that catches your fancy? We are very good at tassel making, and would be happy to customize anything the Immortal Master would like.”

            Shen Qingchun reached out, gently touching a few strands of cord, testing their supple flexibility. “If this one were to pay for the materials, would the tassel masters be willing to indulge what might be an odd request?”

            The stall tender only smiled brighter, and Shen Yuan handed over the needed coin.

            It took him a few tries- making elegant loops without ruining the weight distribution was surprisingly finicky, even for someone who had become fairly crafty in his time on the peak of artists and scholars. Which ties to pull when, and which would bear the load of the decorations, which strands to thread through so the long loop would lay correctly.

            It took him a little while. But eventually, he had managed to follow the crafter’s guidance into making four intricate longevity knot tassels, two green, one blue, and one red- each adorned with a different set of accented crystal beads.

            They would make fine gifts for Luo Binghe and his brother, each with the corresponding pair for Shen Yuan to keep.

            With a smile and word of thanks, Shen Yuan placed the sets into their respective boxes before he bid the tender farewell, turning to finish his ascent up the mountain. The sun was starting to dip lower, the colorful lanterns strung between the buildings slowly being coaxed to life as night grew closer.

            He had never decorated much, when it was just himself. When he had been concerned about remaining under cover, he had only ever sat a small red table lantern out on the porch of the bamboo house, worried any more might be too far from his brother’s tastes to be believable.

            Honestly, he had no idea what Shen Jiu would do for the little get together the younger brother had managed to plead for, but he had insisted on being the one to handle the house’s preparation, so Shen Yuan hadn’t put up a fight.

            Coming around the final bend through the bamboo, though, he found himself stopping short.

            There were lanterns. Strings of lanterns, draping from the corners of the house out to posts staked into the yard, making a little square of lights around what was already becoming a lively space.

            He could see his brother, directing Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge as they settled a larger table in the center of the impromptu courtyard. Wei Qingwei and Mu Qingfang were off to the side, helping Shang Qinghua light the lanterns, while a trio of demons consisting of Mobei-Jun, Zhuzhi-Lang, and Tianlang-Jun watched from their spots lingering on the grass.

            Even as he watched, Luo Binghe emerged from the house, a tray of something in his hands. Shen Yuan couldn’t help but smile as Shen Qingqiu turned to gesture at him roughly with his fan, stalking around him only to emerge with another platter and settle it on the table. Even from such a distance, he could see his brother relax slightly as Yue Qingyuan put an arm around him.

            The sun was sinking quickly, but even in the last rays, there was no gloom around their little house- with a shove, Tianlang-Jun sent his nephew stumbling out to speak with Liu Qingge, and Mobei-Jun found Shang Qinghua, and Wei Qingwei’s loud, boisterous laugh echoed at something Yue Qingyuan had said. He couldn’t help but just stand and watch for a little while, taking in the sight and committing it to happy memory.

            “Yuan-di!” his brother suddenly called out, shaking him from his reverie as he was noticed dawdling. “Don’t just stand there, people will think you’ve lost your wits.”

            His voice was joined by the others, calling for him to join them, and a sudden burst of warm, overwhelming joy erupted from behind his ribs.

            As he adjusted the boxes in his hands and started up the final stretch of the path once more, Shen Yuan couldn’t help the wayward thought that if someone had asked him to describe what the beginnings of a Happily Ever After looked like… well.

            He thought it would be a lot like this.

[The End]