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Chapter Text

The susurrus of the rain drowned out all other noise. Wind rattled the shutters and raindrops sped up and slowed in an endless cycle. The shutters kept out the rain itself but the chill and the damp still crept in.

This far past sunset, there was no light to be had even if the shutters had been opened, and Shen Jiu wasn’t wealthy enough to own night pearls–those sorts of cultivation artifacts were for extremely wealthy nobles and sects. The school he ran could just about afford high quality candles, and Shen Jiu had to be careful not to use too many of those.

Shen Jiu scowled as he examined a particularly messy set of brushstrokes, and brought his candle closer to the page. The writing was sloppy, but that could be taught–the mind behind the brush was what Shen Jiu had to figure out.

When Shen Jiu had started his little school, he’d personally met and hand-chosen every one of his first disciples. In the years since, the school had grown, and those students were now teaching a much larger number of students.

One of them, Shen Yuan, had many opinions on the structure of the school. Some of the ideas were even good ones, and Shen Jiu had particularly liked his thoughts on an organized admissions process for the students. Which was why Shen Jiu was here in his office late at night squinting at the messily written pleading of the uneducated.

Shen Jiu had been less pleased by Shen Yuan’s suggestion that he stop directly teaching the younger children. If they couldn’t handle a little harshness, why were they even here? They’d never amount to anything without understanding the facts of life.

But Shen Yuan, Ning Yingying, and even Ming Fan had all begged Shen Jiu to switch to administration and the occasional upper level course.

His former students claimed handling the parents was the worst part of teaching. And Shen Jiu could do that with ease. Meanwhile, apparently the mere threat of being sent to Shen Jiu for discipline kept even the rowdiest students in line.

Shen Jiu still felt Shen Yuan was too soft on them. He’d clearly been too soft on Shen Yuan, swayed by the strong resemblance between them. Side-by-side, now that Shen Yuan was grown, they could almost be twins.

But Shen Yuan was only a former student and now a subordinate teacher. Not a brother. Never a brother.

Shen Jiu had only one brother. Long gone, now.

Shen Jiu’s hand went to the guanyin pendant at his throat, as it always did when he thought of Qi-ge. When they were children, Qi-ge had saved up and bought Shen Jiu the pendant for an irresponsible amount of money. Shen Jiu had scolded him viciously for it, but he wore it always.

Qiu Jianluo had mocked him for it. Useless trash clinging to useless trash–for the jade itself was a fake. But it was the only thing Shen Jiu had to remember Qi-ge by. As Shen Jiu’s memories faded over the years, touching the guanyin pendant still brought back the sound of Qi-ge’s voice, the fall of his hair, the warmth of his hands clasped around Shen Jiu’s own.

Qi-ge had promised to rescue him from the Qius, and certainly died in the attempt. Shen Jiu had never really expected otherwise. But he had hoped, for a long time, that Qi-ge would return and save him.

But Shen Jiu never saw Qi-ge again. It had been Shen Jiu’s Shizun, Wei Zhiqiang, that pulled him from that hell. Wei Zhiqiang had been a wandering cultivator that had been passing through town and spotted Shen Jiu’s potential.

If he hadn’t bought Shen Jiu out–well. Shen Jiu had been close to doing something drastic and terrible to escape, as he grew increasingly certain that his Qi-ge was never coming back. Sometime after Shen Jiu had left, Qiu Manor had ended up burning down. Apparently, they had offended the infamous demonic cultivator Wu Yanzi. Shen Jiu was grateful to have escaped that fate. And grateful Qiu Jianluo had been killed, if not by Shen Jiu’s hand.

A knock at the door startled Shen Jiu from his thoughts. Who could it be, this late at night? His fellow teachers had already all gone home. Had one of them forgotten something?

“Come in,” Shen Jiu called out, setting aside the admissions paperwork he’d been studying.

The man that strode into the room was a complete stranger to Shen Jiu. He was clearly a very powerful cultivator, in black and white layered robes of the finest silk and wearing an elaborate guan. The cultivator radiated power, the likes of which Shen Jiu knew he couldn’t match. Shen Jiu’s Shizun had given him a cultivation manual and taught Shen Jiu whenever he was in town, but Shen Jiu’s golden core was a candle to this man’s inferno.

“I don’t understand,” the man said as he looked Shen Jiu up and down, “how you are even now in my way.”

“I beg your pardon.” Shen Jiu said stiffly, but internally he was baffled. He had no idea who this man was.

The man came up to Shen Jiu’s desk and loomed threateningly over Shen Jiu’s seated form. Shen Jiu pulled up a cool, calm mask. If they made you feel afraid, at the very least, never let them see it. That would only invite more pain and punishment.

“He keeps coming back to this puny little town, and at first I thought it was a coincidence. But then I found out about you.” Anger simmered beneath the surface of every word the cultivator said. “He has spent far too much time and energy on scum like you. You’ve been the greatest distraction for him since he came to me, and you’ve sabotaged his progress on every level.”

Was he talking about one of Shen Jiu’s students? Bewildered, Shen Jiu struggled to make sense of the situation. “I don’t-”

The cultivator grabbed Shen Jiu’s hair in one hand and slammed Shen Jiu’s head down onto the desk. Sharp pain lanced through Shen Jiu’s cheekbone where it had struck the wooden surface, and his scalp stung under the cultivator’s merciless grip.

Shen Jiu seized his writing brush, channeling qi through it so the bristles were sharp as blades. He swung out with one arm, slashing upwards at a target he couldn’t see. Hoping to take out an eye, or at least distract the cultivator enough to get him to let go.

The cultivator effortlessly dodged Shen Jiu’s swing and caught his wrist. As the pressure let up, Shen Jiu tried to push himself up to get away. But the cultivator shoved him down once more, and squeezed the delicate bones of Shen Jiu’s wrist together until Shen Jiu was forced to drop his only weapon. It rolled out of reach.

Shen Jiu scrabbled helplessly, but the cultivator’s strength and power were relentless. Shen Jiu was pinned.

“You can’t stop interfering? Then I’ll make you stop,” the cultivator hissed.

Shen Jiu heard the rustle of fabric as the cultivator pulled something from his robes. He set it down on the desk in view of Shen Jiu–a carved stamp, the sort Shen Jiu used to sign his name. But Shen Jiu’s stamps were mundane. This one was infused with qi, and Shen Jiu had no idea what it was meant for or what it would do.

The cultivator inhaled slowly. Then he reached down and snatched the guanyin from Shen Jiu’s neck.

“No!” Shen Jiu couldn’t help crying out. Take any other possession, but please! Not that!

The man picked up the stamp once more. “This is your punishment for your interference and sabotage. You keep holding him back. No more.”

The man pressed the stamp into Shen Jiu’s skull, through his hair. It sank impossibly deep. Shen Jiu felt like he could feel it in his mind somehow, pressing against his innermost thoughts. A violation of the kind he’d never known to fear.

“You will forget all about Yue Qingyuan,” the cultivator declared, and twisted.

The world spun, warping around that one feeling of the stamp bending his mind, corrupting his thoughts, remaking him.

Shen Jiu screamed.

No, no! He couldn’t–he couldn’t take–

Chapter Text

Shen Jiu woke up slumped over his desk. The morning light was streaming in through the windows of his office. The rain had stopped, and the air smelled fresh and new. For some reason, the absence of rain annoyed Shen Jiu. He didn’t particularly like rain, but today it seemed wrong for the morning to dawn bright and sunny.

Someone was sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

“Did you sleep here again?” Shen Yuan was annoyingly chipper.

Shen Jiu was not in the mood.

“What do you want,” Shen Jiu snapped. His head was pounding.

“Shizun, you have to take better care of yourself,” Shen Yuan reprimanded softly.

Shen Yuan gestured to the pot of tea he had apparently brought. It was the tea set Wei Zhiqiang had given Shen Jiu when Shen Jiu had first founded the school, all pale green and white with a bamboo motif. Shen Jiu’s favorite set. And from the scent, Shen Jiu’s favorite oolong tea. Shen Jiu dialed his glare down, just a little bit.

“This school holiday thing was your idea,” Shen Jiu groused. “So why are you here?”

“It’s supposed to be a holiday for all of us, Shizun,” Shen Yuan replied. “And you’ve been working dawn till dusk for the last ten days, and you didn’t even come back to your rooms last night. I’m worried about you.”

Shen Jiu scoffed. “Just because you’re content to laze about and do nothing, doesn’t mean the rest of the world shares your work ethic.”

Sometimes Shen Yuan really did seem like a rich young master. He certainly picked up their bad habits quickly. Shen Jiu knew perfectly well that Shen Yuan was an orphaned street rat just like Shen Jiu had been.

Shen Jiu reached for his throat. But there was nothing there. The skin of his neck stung slightly, rubbed raw somehow. And Shen Jiu felt a pang of loss. How strange.

Shen Jiu had no nostalgia for his childhood on the streets or his time with the Qius. It was all best forgotten. Shen Jiu had worked hard to lose the mannerisms and speech and still maintained that mindset. Shen Yuan had shed all of that like an ill-fitting cloak.

Shen Yuan’s rich brat attitude really grated on Shen Jiu sometimes.

“I can help you with some of the paperwork,” Shen Yuan offered as he poured Shen Jiu a cup. “For a little while. I have plans for today.”

The tea steamed in the porcelain. Shen Jiu blew lightly on it as he brought it to his lips. His fingers warmed as the heat of the tea bled through the cup into his hands.

“You’ll start advocating for the idiots,” Shen Jiu took a sip. “Your standards are too low.”

Shen Jiu closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of the tea in satisfaction. For all his many, many faults, Shen Yuan did know how to make good tea. Shen Jiu had dumped so many cupfuls on Shen Yuan’s head until he’d learned to brew it just right–but those trials had been worth every minute.

Shen Yuan rolled his eyes.

“I’ll copy the rejection letters,” Shen Yuan picked up a brush from where it had rolled onto the floor. “You take a break and drink up.”

Shen Yuan was probably still going to be too nice about it. Shen Yuan’s rejections looked like encouragement to most people. Like Luo Binghe.

“Your plans for the day. Do they involve that little beast?” Shen Jiu asked, passing over the list of students he’d ruled out as not worth the time to talk to, let alone teach.

“I wish you wouldn’t call him that,” Shen Yuan said as he ground ink. “He’s a Cang Qiong inner disciple on Qiong Ding peak.”

“He’s a nuisance,” Shen Jiu sneered, picking up the profile of another potential student. He’d been halfway through this one’s application essay when he’d fallen asleep. “I disapprove.”

“Of our friendship?” Shen Yuan said, trying to be as sarcastic as Shen Jiu. The attempt was amusing. “You rejected Wan Ai? I liked her.”

Shen Jiu ignored Shen Yuan’s transparent efforts to change the subject. Luo Binghe’s feelings for Shen Yuan were as platonic as they were subtle. Meaning, they were clearly neither.

Luo Binghe had long been visiting their town to see Shen Yuan. He must have been claiming every night hunt in the area. He occasionally brought some of his fellow Qiong Ding disciples, and some of them had come to befriend Shen Yuan, the little socialite. Shen Jiu was just waiting for the day Shen Yuan left with them.

“He’s come again, hasn’t he,” Shen Jiu accused.

Hopefully Shen Yuan had at least enough sense not to let Luo Binghe stay over in his rooms at the school. Shen Yuan claimed it was because Luo Binghe made a delicious breakfast. Shen Jiu felt Luo Binghe was trying to leverage this into more overnight stays. Luo Binghe was far too devious for Shen Jiu to feel comfortable with his and Shen Yuan’s closeness.

Shen Jiu felt a wave of envy, as though there was someone Shen Jiu would have liked to share a room with, and have breakfast with. Someone Shen Jiu felt safe around.

Such a person didn’t exist. No one was safe, not even Shen Jiu’s flaky Shizun. Shen Jiu was alone in the world, fighting tooth and nail against the cruelties it would always show him. No one had ever had a moment of kindness for the little street rat Shen Jiu. He could earn respect from those below him, and that was as much as Shen Jiu could expect.

Shen Jiu reached for his throat again. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. Shen Jiu felt strangely adrift, as though a cornerstone of his world had shaken loose.

“He’s doing a night hunt in the area,” Shen Yuan admitted as he briskly finished a short rejection and set the wet paper aside. “He’s staying in the inn with one of his shixiongs.”

Shen Jiu paused and set down his tea. “A night hunt? Something affecting peoples’ minds?”

Shen Yuan looked at him, startled. “Yes, actually. I don’t know the details, but people are doing things out of character, having affairs and claiming they’ve been influenced. Binghe said there were enough cases to be suspicious.”

Shen Jiu touched his throat again, the space that felt too empty. And his heart ached in turn, longing for something Shen Jiu didn’t know. He felt all wrong. Maybe it was nothing. But this couldn’t be a coincidence.

“I’ll come with you,” Shen Jiu said.

Shen Yuan gave Shen Jiu a worried look. Shen Jiu glared back. Shen Yuan really was obnoxious–he should mind his own business!

“All right,” Shen Yuan said slowly.

Luo Binghe met them in the dining area of their small town’s only inn. On seeing Shen Yuan he immediately began apologizing–apparently his shixiong was all business, and was insisting on handling their night hunt first.

And then Luo Binghe spotted Shen Jiu, and stopped mid-apology.

“Ah, you brought Shen-laoshi!” Luo Binghe said with a smile that was mostly a grimace.

Shen Jiu crossed his arms and looked down his nose at the little beast. “Luo Binghe,” Shen Jiu loaded it with as much disdain as he could.

Shen Yuan drew Luo Binghe aside. Luo Binghe at first looked delighted to have Shen Yuan draw so close, but his face fell into a serious expression as Shen Yuan spoke.

Shen Yuan was probably telling Luo Binghe all kinds of baseless speculation about Shen Jiu. Shen Jiu wasn’t even sure himself that he was affected. Shen Yuan’s concern was entirely unwarranted.

In any case, Luo Binghe was a known factor and a fool–especially around Shen Yuan. But Shen Yuan had mentioned a friendly shixiong who had come as well. Hopefully this would happen to be one of the rare competent Qiong Ding cultivators.

“Luo-shidi,” someone called out as they approached.

Shen Jiu turned to evaluate the newcomer.

This Qiong Ding cultivator was dressed finely in black and white, with a hair crown that indicated either wealth or high rank on the peak–he might even be the succeeding disciple. He was tall with broad, strong shoulders that should have made Shen Jiu feel nervous or intimidated. Big men usually did, even though Shen Jiu could use his cultivation to defend himself. But something about this cultivator soothed Shen Jiu and made him feel safe. Like his big hands would only cradle Shen Jiu gently, and would never hurt him. A ridiculous thought.

As Shen Jiu examined the cultivator, the cultivator did the same in turn. He was staring at Shen Jiu like he’d seen a ghost. His face was ashen and his eyes wide.

“Shen Yuan,” the cultivator croaked without looking away from Shen Jiu’s face. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Oh, no, we’re not related,” Shen Yuan told him. “This is Shen-laoshi, we work together.”

“Xiao-Jiu?” The man said. He looked like he was blinking away tears.

Shen Jiu scowled at him. That was entirely too familiar. Just because he had some sort of strange charisma, didn’t mean Shen Jiu would let him be so casual. If this cultivator hadn’t even mastered basic diplomacy as a disciple of Qiong Ding Peak, he must be an imbecile. Probably a rich one that had bought his way in. An idiot with his head in the clouds.

“Shen Jiu,” he corrected icily. “And you are?”

Yue Qi stared at Shen Jiu as though Shen Jiu had ripped his heart out and begun to eat it right in front of him.

The man said, “Yue Qi.”

He looked expectantly at Shen Jiu as though he thought the name would mean something to him. How vain!

Shen Jiu schooled his expression into his best incredulous sneer. How dare this Yue Qi be so presumptuous? Yue Qi clearly thought they were backwards and unfit for polite conversation–Shen Jiu was certain Yue Qi had a courtesy name he wasn’t sharing. But Shen Jiu would show him! He no longer had the crude manners of a slave, and could talk like the highest of cultivators thanks to Wei Zhiqiang’s thorough tutelage.

“Yue-xiuzhe,” Shen Jiu said, with frosty politeness. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Though Shen Jiu’s manners were perfectly polite, Yue Qi took the words like a knife to the gut. He closed his eyes and gave a pained gasp.

Shen Jiu often hurt people with his habit of harsh words. He didn’t feel particularly inclined to hurt Yue Qi. As always, Shen Jiu’s intent didn’t make a difference. Somehow, he was wounding Yue Qi all the same.

What was wrong with him? It would probably be useless to question him; Yue Qi didn’t look able to put two thoughts together.

Shen Jiu gave up on him and turned to Luo Binghe, apparently the lesser of two evils. “Tell me about your night hunt,” Shen Jiu demanded. “What are the symptoms?”

Shen Jiu’s education from his Shizun had been focused on cultivating through the four arts, and Shen Jiu was a proficient scholar in them all. But crude practicalities like night hunts had been touched upon. Most of what Shen Jiu knew he had acquired by Shen Yuan’s incessant babbling about this or that monster or plant.

“Four victims,” Yue Qi said, even though Shen Jiu hadn’t asked him. “They all traveled to the town by the eastern road, and reported a need for touch and intimacy. Feelings of loss and pain if it wasn’t accommodated. We were going to go examine the area and see what we could find.”

Not quite the same. But it was possible. Shen Jiu could feel that hole in his heart was like wanting someone. He hadn’t used the eastern road, but perhaps there was some other commonality linking him to them.

Shen Yuan looked at him, then at Luo Binghe. “I know it’s an imposition,” Shen Yuan cast Luo Binghe a pleading look. “But can we come along with you? I’d love to see you in action.”

The little beast was clearly slavering with lust at the thought of more time with Shen Yuan. Shen Jiu gave him a disapproving look that didn’t make a dent in Luo Binghe’s enthusiasm.

“Yes, of course,” both of the Qiong Ding cultivators said at the same time.

Yue Qi drifted uncomfortably close to Shen Jiu as they made their way through the town. The cobblestone road was wide and uncrowded, but Yue Qi kept walking so near that his arm repeatedly brushed up against Shen Jiu’s.

“So, you live in this town?” Yue Qi asked, his gaze on Shen Jiu still uncomfortably intent.

“Yes, at the school with Shen Yuan,” Shen Jiu replied.

The school had dormitory buildings–rooms for the students, and slightly nicer ones for the teachers. The students had almost all gone home for the holidays, except for a few charity cases that didn’t have homes to return to. Shen Jiu preferred the quiet when the brats were all gone, but even when school was in session, it wasn’t bad.

“You’re a teacher at the school, like Shen Yuan?” Yue Qi continued.

“I’m the head teacher,” Shen Jiu corrected scornfully.

Shen Jiu had found Shen Yuan as a helpless orphan wandering barefoot in the streets, taken him in, and taught him everything he knew. Shen Jiu was not about to let Yue Qi assume that Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan were equals, even if–thanks to Shen Jiu’s well-developed golden core–they looked the same age.

And technically Wei Zhiqiang might be considered the head of the school, since the man had taught Shen Jiu, funded it all, and helped Shen Jiu organize and set everything up. But Shen Jiu’s Shizun spent so much time traveling and so little time in their town, Shen Jiu didn’t think he counted.

“Do you have a cultivation partner?” Yue Qi’s interrogation was unceasing.

Shen Jiu shot Yue Qi a sidelong glance. Was Yue Qi hitting on him? Despite Yue Qi’s air of wealth and apparent imbecility, he wasn’t bad to look at. Firm muscles, trim waist, and a kind face. He probably had plenty of suitors. Perhaps he was trying to get some nighttime entertainment from Shen Jiu. But his charisma and handsomeness didn’t mean Shen Jiu would be one of his conquests!

But why would Yue Qi be trying to get Shen Jiu’s attention when Shen Yuan was right there, just as pretty and actually nice? Even if Luo Binghe had staked a claim, crude little beast that he was, Yue Qi was his shixiong. Yue Qi could pull rank and bully Luo Binghe into leaving Shen Yuan to him.

Yue Qi made no sense.

As they passed a street vendor, Yue Qi stepped aside and bought some fresh bao without even haggling. Shen Jiu maintained a polite, frozen smile, but wanted very badly to roll his eyes. A rich idiot, just as expected.

“Have you had breakfast?” Yue Qi asked Shen Jiu.

“Only tea,” Shen Yuan said before Shen Jiu could respond.

Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe were both watching Yue Qi and Shen Jiu with avid fascination. Like Shen Jiu’s conversation with Yue Qi was some sort of spectator sport.

“Here, please, take these,” Yue Qi said, and then inexplicably handed Shen Jiu the entire bag of bao.

Wasn’t this supposed to be Yue Qi’s breakfast?

“I am capable of inedia,” Shen Jiu said stiffly.

Was Yue Qi trying to insult him? Shen Jiu looked at Yue Qi’s innocent, dopey face. Probably not.

Shen Jiu knew he should be offended anyway. But instead he found himself relaxing. Warmth suffused him as though he’d already eaten a bun and it was warming him from the inside out.

Shen Jiu passed Shen Yuan a bun.

“You’ll be weak and useless if you don’t eat,” Shen Jiu told Shen Yuan sternly.

Luo Binghe puffed up, ready to be offended on Shen Yuan’s behalf. But Shen Yuan just took the insult with an easy smile, in a way that Shen Yuan knew infuriated Shen Jiu.

“Thank you Laoshi!” Shen Yuan chirped obnoxiously.

Shen Jiu huffed, then cast a sidelong glance at Yue Qi to see if Yue Qi would be upset that Shen Jiu was giving away his gift. But Yue Qi said nothing, that stupid placid expression still all over his face.

Shen Jiu withdrew one of the bao and began to eat it. The fluffy white bun was soft under his fingers and in his mouth. Shen Jiu eyed Yue Qi suspiciously as he ate, but Yue Qi just looked happy to watch Shen Jiu eat. Yue Qi’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes, and pink dusted the apples of his cheeks.

Shen Jiu stumbled.

He could have caught himself easily but Yue Qi was already there, steadying Shen Jiu’s elbow. Even though Shen Jiu was not even close to falling. Shen Jiu didn’t need Yue Qi’s help!

Yue Qi’s hand remained on Shen Jiu’s arm, and Shen Jiu looked at it, and then Yue Qi. Yue Qi still didn’t move.

An unshakeable feeling that something was missing had been plaguing Shen Jiu all morning. But now his heart ached a little less. Shen Jiu had never found comfort in another before, but somehow this stranger was comforting him now.

Luo Binghe spoke up, snapping Shen Jiu back to his senses.

“Yue-shixiong, did you get cursed?” Luo Binghe said accusingly.

Yue Qi sighed. “No. And we don’t know that it’s a curse.”

“You’re acting strange,” Luo Binghe said. “If you’ve been affected, you need to tell us. It could be dangerous.”

“He’s acting strange?” Shen Yuan asked, confused. “Because he’s being polite?”

Luo Binghe shook his head. “No, he’s… I can’t describe it. He’s more present. I’ve never seen him like this.”

Shen Jiu looked at Yue Qi, who had been kind to Shen Jiu since the moment they’d met. Shen Jiu owed him nothing, but felt a strange desire to help Yue Qi anyway. Perhaps if Shen Jiu explained how it felt, Yue Qi would realize he’d been affected as well.

“It’s like an ache in your heart,” Shen Jiu offered. “Like there’s someone you need like breathing. And they’re missing. You want to reach out, but you can’t. It’s not that they’re not here, it’s that they don’t exist at all.”

Yue Qi’s eyes became glassy, and his face twisted as though he felt the same grief that plagued Shen Jiu.

But Yue Qi shook his head. “No. I’m not affected.”

Shen Jiu felt hot with embarrassment. Clearly he’d humiliated himself for nothing, then! Shen Jiu kept walking, and said nothing. A moment later, Yue Qi hurried up to walk beside Shen Jiu once more.

Luo Binghe watched them both with narrowed eyes.

They continued on in silence, Yue Qi persistently creeping close and closer to Shen Jiu until their sleeves were brushing.

Morning turned towards afternoon. The morning’s clear skies had passed, and gray clouds crept back across the sky. Sunlight diffused into a soft pale glow that lit the road ahead and the trees alongside it. It did not rain heavily as it had the night before, but the occasional drizzle fell again and again.

Shen Jiu finished the whole bag of bao by himself just because they were warm–when they were gone, he felt his fingertips grow numb from the chill.

Shen Jiu stuck his hands on his sleeves. Yue Qi noticed.

“I could-” was Yue Qi really going to offer to hold Shen Jiu’s hand?

Shen Jiu didn’t get the chance to consider how he felt about it, because they passed under a tree with hanging vines. The vines had a distinctive cupped shape that was both unusual and familiar. Where had Shen Jiu seen them before?

“Oh, that’s it!” Shen Yuan cried out. “The Lover’s Dew Fountain Vine! Wait, no, don’t-”

Luo Binghe had reached up and given one of the vine’s trailing tendrils a delicate tug. Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu leaped back just as it dumped all the rainwater collected in its cupped leaves on the hapless Yue Qi and Luo Binghe.

Shen Yuan hissed through his teeth.

“An aphrodisiac?” Shen Jiu asked sardonically, looking at the now completely soaked heads of the Qiong Ding cultivators.

“Yes,” Shen Yuan confirmed miserably. “Exposure causes fever and destabilized qi. It’s treated by skin-to-skin contact and medicinal qi transfer.”

People that passed along the road under the vine had probably been dripped on. A small amount would have been relatively harmless, and those lighter symptoms had been reported to Cang Qiong.

But Luo Binghe and Yue Qingyuan had received a much larger dose.

“And because their qi is destabilized they can’t help each other,” Shen Jiu narrowed his eyes at Luo Binghe in particular, who was wearing a pitiful expression that Shen Jiu was certain was fake. “Well, I know a brothel.”

“Laoshi!” Shen Yuan looked scandalized at Shen Jiu's entirely pragmatic suggestion.

Gullible idiot! This was exactly why Luo Binghe had dumped aphrodisiac water on his own head! Of course if Shen Jiu told Shen Yuan this, Shen Yuan would insist that Luo Binghe was an innocent little lamb who would never, and Shen Jiu was just paranoid due to scarring of previous negative experiences.

It wasn’t paranoia, it was a learned survival skill that Shen Yuan seemed to lack entirely.

And poor pitiful Yue Qi, whose only crime was standing too close. Shen Jiu clearly needed to look out for him; Luo Binghe was supposed to be Yue Qi’s teammate on this night hunt and had gotten Yue Qi poisoned instead.

“I can take care of Binghe in his room at the inn,” Shen Yuan proposed.

Behind Shen Yuan, Luo Binghe was struggling to suppress a smug, eager look. Greedy little beast.

Shen Yuan looked guiltily between Yue Qi and Shen Jiu. “Shen-laoshi, would you mind looking after Yue-xiuzhe?”

Shen Jiu looked at Yue Qi, whose face was turning very red. The fever must already be setting in. If it was happening that fast, Yue Qi really would need a great deal of help.

Shen Jiu crossed his arms, annoyed. He didn’t feel well either–his heart was pounding. But Shen Jiu was certain he hadn’t been splashed, and his qi was stable enough to perform an infusion for Yue Qi.

“Fine, since it looks like you don’t have any better options,” Shen Jiu grumbled at Yue Qi.

Yue Qi protested, “No, you don’t have to! I couldn’t impose. I’ll just–”

“Die?” Shen Jiu said sarcastically. “Look. You need help. I’m offering. Do you want this or not?” The words were vicious and biting.

Yue Qi looked ashamed of himself for accepting help from someone like Shen Jiu. But clearly he recognized the necessity.

“Yes,” Yue Qi whispered. “Yes, I do.”

Chapter Text

Shen Jiu’s room at the school was a cluttered mess. Outside these four walls, Shen Jiu projected the confidence of Shen-laoshi, who was a refined cultivator and master of the four arts. Within the privacy of these walls, however, Shen Jiu indulged himself and let things slide. Now he regretted not having this room conform to the “Shen-laoshi” image.

His disciples had pressed many of their messier paintings and calligraphy attempts on Shen Jiu over the years. Shen Jiu had used them to paper over the bare walls–simply to have something more interesting to look at than wood grain.

Similarly, combs and ornaments and books likely meant as bribes were scattered on the tables, for Shen Jiu to use as he pleased whenever one caught his eye.

Shen Yuan, Ning Yingying, and Ming Fan had worked together to embroider a bedspread for Shen Jiu for his birthday the year before. Their attempts to get along and work together had foundered quickly, and the embroidery trailed off into a tangled half-finished mess at the corners.

Shen Jiu had been supremely amused at the shamefaced looks they had worn when they had presented it, having run out of time to finish. They still made faces whenever they saw it, and that was worth Shen Jiu having to use it himself. Thoughts of their humiliation made the blanket feel extra warm.

Shen Jiu shoved Yue Qi down onto Ning Yingying’s careful embroidery of an abnormally fat crane.

“We might as well be comfortable,” Shen Jiu said, keeping a cool expression plastered onto his face.

Shen Jiu had never brought a man to his bed before. He had never wanted to. The thought of even touching a man ordinarily would have repulsed him.

For whatever reason, Yue Qi felt different to Shen Jiu. Safe.

Yue Qi’s skin was still flushed and hot. The fever seemed to be affecting his faculties as well–he hadn’t spoken much on their walk back to Shen Jiu’s rooms at the school, but the little he did say was halting and stammered.

“Disrobe,” Shen Jiu commanded.

Yue Qi turned even redder. Shen Jiu could practically feel the heat radiating from his face. They should act quickly if the fever was so strong. Maximum skin-to-skin contact would also increase the efficiency of the qi transfer.

Shen Jiu quickly removed his own layers until he was only wearing pants. That should be sufficient. Shen Jiu wouldn’t go any further unless it did turn out to be necessary.

“Xiao-Jiu–I mean, Shen-laoshi, I–” Yue Qi was still hesitating!

Didn’t he realize it was his life and health on the line? Did he have so little care for himself? He really did need someone looking after him, didn’t he!

Frustrated, Shen Jiu came to stand before Yue Qi, easing between Yue Qi’s parted legs. Yue Qi remained seated on Shen Jiu’s bed, the sheets rumpled around him. His lips were parted, cheeks flushed, chest heaving. He looked–

Well, Shen Jiu wasn’t planning on any other activities. Not even if Yue Qi was the handsomest man on earth! Which he wasn’t.

Shen Jiu tugged Yue Qi’s belt until the ties came loose, and tossed it aside. It landed with a thump on the floor that almost seemed to echo in Shen Jiu’s ears. Then Shen Jiu reached in and pulled Yue Qi’s robes off his shoulders and down his arms.

Yue Qi just sat there staring at Shen Jiu like he couldn’t believe what was happening. A rich young master like him was probably horrified at Shen Jiu’s forwardness. Shen Jiu was a little horrified at himself. Shen Jiu had never wanted anything like this before. But he wanted it now.

And then Shen Jiu saw the scars.

Hundreds of silver lines marred Yue Qi’s muscled skin. Thick ones, the remnants of truly deep wounds, over what looked like every one of Yue Qi’s meridians. Smaller ones littered the spaces between, as though someone had decided to try to give him the death by a thousand cuts and then let them all heal poorly. All were straight and thin, as though he had been sliced over and over by sharpened blades. Some were fainter than the others–Yue Qi had acquired them over a long span of time. This wasn’t one incident–it was many.

Shen Jiu realized he had dropped to kneel between Yue Qi’s legs. Shen Jiu traced one of the scars with his fingers. The thick soft scar tissue over Yue Qi’s lower dantian, so wide it was like a trough carved into his flesh even after healing.

“What happened,” Shen Jiu murmured.

“It was my mistake. My fault,” Yue Qi replied grimly. “I will always regret it.”

Yue Qi’s dark eyes were fathomless. He seemed to be thinking of someone or something else, far away and long ago.

Shen Jiu was suddenly furious. “I’m right here,” Shen Jiu snarled. “Don’t look away. Look at me.”

Yue Qi looked at Shen Jiu and gave him a weak smile. “Yes. You’re here. So in the end it was all right anyway.”

Shen Jiu didn’t understand him at all.

“Lay back,” Shen Jiu told him.

And then Shen Jiu pressed their chests together, and began passing Yue Qi his qi. Yue Qi’s sweat-soaked skin seared Shen Jiu where they touched. Yue Qi’s breath in his ear was loud enough to drown out the whole world.

Pressed against him like this, it didn’t matter how silently Yue Qi cried. Shen Jiu felt the hitching of his breath, and the tears that dripped from Yue Qi’s eyes to wet the skin where their cheeks were pressed together.

Shen Jiu levered himself up to look Yue Qi in the eyes.

“What, do you have regrets?” Shen Jiu snapped indignantly. “Wish you’d gone to the brothel after all? Or perhaps back to the inn, with Shen Yuan?”

“No!” Yue Qi seemed offended by the suggestion. “I just… You shouldn’t have had to do this.”

Shen Jiu glared at him. “I wouldn’t have had to do this if you weren’t an idiot,” Shen Jiu sneered. “Be more aware of your surroundings next time. And I hope you punish Luo Binghe. Thoroughly.” If ever a boy was in need of a beating, it was that one.

“He made a careless mistake,” Yue Qi said. He was as gullible as Shen Yuan. “I am sorry to be an imposition, though.”

Imposition! As though Shen Jiu was a brothel whore Yue Qi had cheaped out on, and not a refined cultivation teacher of some standing!

Well, perhaps from the perspective of the succeeding disciple of a great sect like Qiong Ding, there wasn’t much difference between the two. The thought galled Shen Jiu. But it probably wasn’t far from the truth.

Shen Jiu wanted to bite Yue Qi. He wanted to hurt, rend, destroy–all the things Shen Jiu was best at. No one wanted healing or care from someone like Shen Jiu. What had he been thinking, offering to help like this?

But then Yue Qi pressed his hands to Shen Jiu’s shoulder blades, pulling Shen Jiu down again. Pinning Shen Jiu tight against him, as though he feared Shen Jiu would abandon him.

Shen Jiu let himself be held, and the anger melted away. Shen Jiu wanted to be infuriated about that as well, but he couldn’t.

He felt safe and warm and loved. What a delusion. He hadn’t felt this way since–no. Shen Jiu had never felt this way before. But it was nice, however long it lasted.

Silence fell in Shen Jiu’s room. Yue Qi and Shen Jiu breathed together, connected by the qi passing between them. Hearts pressed against each other, a prosaic act that still felt more intimate than it should.

Outside, rain lightly began to fall. Inside, Shen Jiu and Yue Qi shared one heartbeat that fluttered in time with the raindrops.

Shen Jiu had thought it would be courteous to see Yue Qi off. He was quickly growing to regret it. One would think a head disciple of the highest peak of Cang Qiong would have important things to get back to. But if Shen Jiu didn’t know any better, he’d think Yue Qi was searching for excuses to keep Shen Jiu by his side!

First Yue Qi had insisted on a long breakfast together at the inn. Shen Jiu had agreed only because Yue Qi was paying. Then he had lingered over the dishes, placing morsel after morsel of Shen Jiu’s favorites into his bowl, and ordering several rounds of food heedless of the expense.

The sun was high in the sky by the time Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan had emerged, blushing, to join them. The evidence of licentious liaisons was clearly written on their faces. Their arrival gave Yue Qi an excuse to extend breakfast into lunch and drag things out further.

But then of course, Shen Jiu had to stick around. He needed to demonstrate to Luo Binghe the consequences of trifling with Shen Yuan.

“I see you’ve finished. Take a seat.” Shen Jiu snapped at his foolish disciple.

Luo Binghe hadn’t been invited, but sat down next to Shen Yuan anyway. He was so consistently ruder than Shen Jiu expected.

“We’ve ordered the roast duck,” Shen Jiu informed Shen Yuan. “It should be arriving soon.”

If Yue Qi had volunteered to foot the bill, Shen Jiu was absolutely going to take advantage! And Yue Qi hadn’t cut the meal short, so clearly he was willing to be taken advantage of.

Luo Binghe smiled at Shen Yuan and interjected, “The fried fish here is also very good.”

Shen Jiu sniffed. “Absolutely not. The oil would be bad for your skin.”

Luo Binghe and Shen Jiu glared at each other.

Between them, Shen Yuan meekly tried to interject. “I like both…?”

The waitress appeared with the roast duck, placing the platter on the table. Its skin was a lovely brown that glistened with fat. It sat on the wooden cutting board looking as delicious as it was expensive. Shen Jiu couldn’t help a greedy stare.

When he glanced at Yue Qi, instead of looking at the duck, Yue Qi was watching him. Shen Jiu inclined his chin in gratitude, and Yue Qi returned it with a vapid smile, as though all he ever wanted in life was the chance to feed Shen Jiu expensive delicacies. What was he playing at?

The waitress set out the brown bean sauce and cucumber, then drew out a cleaver to cut the slices of duck.

Shen Jiu took the cleaver from the waitress. “Please, allow me.”

Luo Binghe held up one hand to signal to her. “We’d like to add an order of the fried fish, please.”

Shen Jiu brought the cleaver down on the roast duck with a thud. “No. The duck is already here.”

The waitress looked helplessly at Yue Qi. Yue Qi looked at Luo Binghe, his fellow Qiong Ding disciple. They had been coming to this town for night hunts and working together for years, if Shen Jiu recalled correctly from Shen Yuan’s stories. And Luo Binghe was Yue Qi’s shidi, so Yue Qi owed him protection and guidance.

Shen Jiu was on his own, as usual, but that had never stopped him from fighting. Not since-

Yue Qi looked at Shen Jiu, the stranger he’d spent the night with. Shen Jiu looked back with narrow eyes and the cleaver raised.

“No fish, thank you,” Yue Qi told the waitress gently. She smiled back at him.

Shen Jiu felt suddenly enraged, even though he had gotten his way. He raised the cleaver higher and brought it down on the duck again with unnecessary force.

“I’ll pay!” Luo Binghe said, a desperate and transparent attempt to save face.

But the waitress ignored him and quickly scurried away from the tense atmosphere mounting at the table.

“Luo Binghe. I’ve known men like you,” Shen Jiu said, straining to keep his voice level.

Men that were beautiful and powerful like Luo Binghe were always greedy. They hurt those weaker and more vulnerable with callous indifference.

Shen Jiu didn’t trust Luo Binghe one bit. “Perhaps you think Shen Yuan is without friends in high places like you.”

“Laoshi-” Shen Yuan protested.

Shen Jiu brought the cleaver down on the duck again, neatly bisecting it. “But you are not immune to the consequences of your actions.”

Luo Binghe tried to stare Shen Jiu down. “I will not hurt Shen Yuan.”

“You had better not,” Shen Jiu said. “You will never own him. He will always be able to leave you, and I will always be there to help. And to burn your bones to ash.”

Shen Jiu punctuated the threat by bringing the cleaver down on the duck’s neck with one final thud.

Luo Binghe looked beseechingly at Yue Qi. Yue Qi inexplicably looked at Shen Jiu. And didn’t defend Luo Binghe.

“Laoshi, please, we’re just friends!” Shen Yuan broke in.

Luo Binghe made a truly pathetic face in response.

For just a moment, Shen Jiu felt the briefest flicker of pity for Luo Binghe. It blinked out in an instant, and Shen Jiu resolved to forget it had ever happened.

Shen Jiu smiled. “Friends. Of course.” Shen Jiu passed Shen Yuan a pancake. “Eat some scallions, they’re good for your teeth.”

Shen Yuan blushed. “Laoshi, I’m not a kid anymore,” he protested.

Luo Binghe suddenly placed a platter of fried fish on the table. When had he left to get that?

Yue Qi gave him a look. “Did you steal that from another table?”

“No!” Luo Binghe affected an innocent look.

It was undermined by the customers behind him, who were making a ruckus and glaring furiously in his direction.

“Theft is immoral and wrong,” Yue Qi said piously as he took the plate away and signaled the waitress. Then he shot Shen Jiu a conspiratorial look.

As though he hadn’t eaten the proceeds of Shen Jiu’s thefts for years! He-

Shen Jiu’s hand spasmed as he was passing Shen Yuan the sweet bean sauce, almost spilling it on the table. Thanks to good reflexes from his high cultivation, he managed to save the sauce and his dignity.

Luo Binghe gave up on the fish in the face of Yue Qi’s stern looks, and switched to wrapping the duck with pancakes, scallions, and cucumber for Shen Yuan. His careful arrangements were sabotaged before they reached Shen Yuan’s plate–first by Shen Jiu, and soon enough Yue Qi joined in as well. Lunch ended with Luo Binghe thwarted as Shen Yuan filled up on Shen Jiu’s selections.

“I’ll never forget this betrayal, shixiong,” Luo Binghe muttered to Yue Qi.

Yue Qi looked unruffled by the threat, looking down at Luo Binghe as though this was merely the barking of a rowdy puppy.

“You said that about my coming on this mission, shidi,” Yue Qi said blithely.

Shen Jiu rode the high of victory as he glared a sulky Luo Binghe down. It was great timing for the Cang Qiong cultivators to leave.

But then Yue Qi tried a new tactic to prolong their acquaintance: persuading Shen Jiu to come along to Cang Qiong. Yue Qi really was baffling. What was he after?

“If this is the result of a qi-deviation, Qian Cao may be able to help you. And if they can’t, my Shizun is a master of the Mind Arts.” Yue Qi insisted. “Come back with us.”

Yue Qi, as the succeeding disciple, apparently had the power to invite visitors to Qiong Ding. Perhaps he was using this in an attempt to repay Shen Jiu for services rendered. Noble idiot–once he ascended as Sect Leader, he was going to be taken advantage of by anyone and everyone.

“It’s nothing,” Shen Jiu snapped. “Just a strange feeling I woke up with one day–probably a lingering effect of a vivid dream, that’s all. It’s already passing.”

The longing had faded and was almost unnoticeable now. Shen Jiu felt his normal self. Better than that. He felt complete. Even with all the qi he’d passed to Yue Qi while caring for him through the evening and night, Shen Jiu felt invigorated.

But Yue Qi seemed to think Shen Jiu was on the brink of death, as though saving Shen Jiu from such a situation would balance out what he owed Shen Jiu for helping him. Yue Qi wouldn’t let Shen Jiu out of his sight. He seemed genuinely worried Shen Jiu would suddenly drop dead because Shen Jiu had been feeling a little nostalgic one day.

“Please, just let the healers look at you,” Yue Qi said. “To find out what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong!” Shen Jiu wanted to scream.

Why was Yue Qi being so stubborn about this? Everyone knew when you got sex pollened on a mission you did what you had to and then everyone moved on and tried to forget it ever happened.

“Would he be able to visit the library of Qing Jing?” Shen Yuan piped up. “I’ve always wanted to see that.”

Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe were holding hands now. Shen Jiu felt like the progress he’d made over lunch was eroding like a fortress made of sand. Today was the worst.

But Shen Yuan did have a point.

“Even without access to the library of Qing Jing, Qiong Ding has a respectable selection. Perhaps Shen Yuan could come along as well?” Luo Binghe suggested.

“Oh, yes, Shen Yuan would be welcome to accompany us,” Yue Qi said immediately.

Shen Jiu felt inexplicably betrayed. But this was only to be expected. Shen Jiu hadn’t understood why Yue Qi had taken Shen Jiu’s side against Luo Binghe in the first place. So it should not have been a surprise that Yue Qi turned traitor now to satisfy some other hidden motivation.

Shen Jiu was not about to let them take Shen Yuan to Qiong Ding alone! Who knew what that little beast would do once he’d gotten Shen Yuan in his power. Shen Jiu knew all too well what beautiful men like him were like in the face of the powerless.

Perhaps Shen Yuan was now an accomplished cultivator, but Shen Jiu kept seeing the sad little urchin he’d been when they had met. Luo Binghe wasn’t taking Shen Yuan away where Shen Jiu couldn’t protect him, not while Shen Jiu still breathed!

“I’ll go too,” Shen Jiu said, internally seething.

Shen Yuan lit up with excitement, but then his face fell. “I don’t have a sword–we usually rent one.”

Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan usually rented swords as needed, but as most of their cultivation was through the arts, they usually didn’t bother.

Luo Binghe drew his own sword and set it hovering in the air, then offered Shen Yuan a hand.

“You can ride with me,” Luo Binghe offered.

Shen Yuan looked surprised at the offer, but nodded and took Luo Binghe’s hand to step up onto his sword. Luo Binghe stepped up behind Shen Yuan, pulling Shen Yuan tight against him, and then zoomed up and off before Shen Yuan could change his mind.

Shen Jiu couldn’t afford a spiritual sword of his own. On the other hand, Yue Qi had two spiritual swords, one bonded to him and one not. It was an excess of wealth that should have made him ashamed to walk in the streets.

Yue Qi could have offered Shen Jiu the unbonded sword to use. Instead, he stepped aboard it himself. So when Yue Qi offered Shen Jiu a hand, Shen Jiu was forced to swallow down bitter jealousy and accept the help.

But Shen Jiu stood behind Yue Qi on the sword and made sure to keep Yue Qi at arm’s length, his hand on Yue Qi’s shoulder for balance. Shen Yuan had been much too close, and had an undignified amount of skin contact with Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe had already been cured, there was no need for any of that! What was Shen Yuan thinking?

This whole trip would be foolishness of the highest order. Shen Jiu trusted Ning Yingying and Ming Fan to run things in their absence, particularly since the school itself was on holiday. But this excursion was pointless. Shen Jiu hadn’t gotten this far in life by indulging himself–he had survived by doing the pragmatic thing, over and over. Shen Jiu knew he should be catching up on paperwork and preparing a curriculum for the next year, not sightseeing.

Cang Qiong wasn’t far. Shen Jiu could have traveled there at any time in the years past, but never had. After rescuing Shen Jiu from the Qius, his Shizun had told him to never come to Cang Qiong. That it would be dangerous for him to go there.

Shen Jiu tightened his grip on Yue Qi. So high off the ground and on a sword under the control of another man, Shen Jiu should have felt tense. But Yue Qi had a strange way of exuding feelings of safety. It was probably his reliable, affable nature.

Shen Jiu’s Shizun might have offended Cang Qiong somehow, but it should still be fine for Shen Jiu to go. He didn’t see why not. If he wanted to leave, it was hard to imagine Yue Qi of all people stopping him. What would Yue Qi do, cry at him?

So Shen Jiu put his teacher’s words out of his mind.

The sky stretched above them, full of grayish clouds from horizon to horizon. Though they threatened rain, no drops actually fell. Shen Jiu was all too familiar with how unpleasant flying while soaking wet was, and had no desire to repeat the experience. But as it was, the clouds sheltered them from the glare of the sun, and the day was warm enough.

Shen Jiu felt the heat of Yue Qingyuan through his hand, sheltering him from the wind as they cut through the air. He was still pleasantly full from their breakfast turned lunch together, and relaxed enough to enjoy the experience of flying. The whole thing was actually quite pleasant.

Ahead of them, Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan were already vanishing into the distance. Shen Jiu harrumphed when he realized this.

“Do you want to catch up?” Yue Qi offered, turning his head to look at Shen Jiu’s grouchy face.

“Yes,” Shen Jiu said shortly, still a little annoyed. He had a suspicion that he’d been outplayed, whether by Luo Binghe or Yue Qi.

“Hold tight,” Yue Qi told him, and then leaned forward.

The sword accelerated to absurd speeds, faster than any rental sword was capable of. Shen Jiu couldn’t suppress the giddy delight that rose up in him and they zoomed across the landscape.

Before he knew it, Shen Jiu had his arms crossed over Yue Qi’s chest, and was plastered firmly against Yue Qi’s back. Shen Jiu’s chin was probably digging into Yue Qi’s shoulder, but Yue Qi didn’t say a word of complaint.

Shen Jiu looked at Yue Qi and Yue Qi looked back with eyes like rain clouds that dropped life-giving water on green seedlings below. They curved into crescents as he smiled at Shen Jiu, and Shen Jiu smiled back at him.

Then a laugh escaped Shen Jiu’s lips before he could push it back down. He heard and felt Yue Qi’s rumbling chuckle in response.

Ahead of them, Luo Binghe did a barrel roll. Shen Jiu could hear Shen Yuan yelp and scold Luo Binghe for it.

“Shall we?” Yue Qi said low and teasing.

“Do it, Qi-ge!” Shen Jiu demanded, breathless with excitement.

Yue Qi twitched and he looked at Shen Jiu, eyes wide. Then he smiled broadly and flew in dizzying spirals. Shen Jiu laughed in his ear. And then Yue Qi was laughing too. They easily passed the stupefied Luo Binghe and equally stunned Shen Yuan.

And then they were soaring across that cool gray sky, free as birds. Laughing like the carefree children they had never been.

Shen Jiu came back to his senses as they approached Cang Qiong. He had been proud of the school they had built, but it was a shack compared to the grandeur of Qiong Ding peak. The mountain peak itself rose above some of the clouds. Great pines reached still further upwards. As they descended it became clear that the pines were enormously, impossibly tall. The trees loomed, closing in over their heads and blocking out the sky.

“Xiao-Jiu?” Yue Qi asked.

“That’s still rude,” Shen Jiu reprimanded him, but without any heat. They still weren’t anywhere near close enough for Yue Qi to be using a diminutive like that.

Yue Qi looked hurt. “You called me Qi-ge,” he protested.

“I don’t think so,” Shen Jiu said doubtfully. He couldn’t remember saying that. Who was Qi-ge?

Yue Qi’s shoulders slumped as though he was disappointed.

Down, down, down, they went until they landed on carefully maintained cobblestone paths. And then Yue Qi and Luo Binghe were showing them all the sights of Qiong Ding.Trying to impress the yokels, probably.

It was impressive. Shen Jiu thickened his face and didn’t let his awe show. Shen Yuan was much less effective at that, smiling effusively at everything from the meeting hall to training rings.

Luo Binghe had at least been impaired by this, and had walked into a wall twice already. Good. Shen Jiu hoped he walked off one of the cliffs.

“Shizun!” Yue Qi called out to a black and white robed cultivator. “This is Sect Leader Xu Zhiyi. Sect leader Xu, this is Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan.” Yue Qi explained, gesturing at the Shens. “They will be staying with us for a while. Shen Jiu needs assistance, so we’ll be going to see Qian Cao next.”

The man turned and started on seeing Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu, looking between them with something like dismay before schooling his expression. And though Xu Zhiyi had affected a calm expression, Shen Jiu knew better. At one time Shen Jiu’s life had depended on reading the mercurial moods of his masters. Shen Jiu could read the crease of his eyes and the shape of his lips like an open book. Xu Zhiyi was descending into a fiery rage.

Shen Jiu suspected that Yue Qi was supposed to be using his ability to invite visitors on actual important people, not the random low-ranked cultivator that had helped him one time.

“Luo Binghe. Go show Shen Yuan that library he’s been talking about.” Shen Jiu snapped the command at Luo Binghe.

Luo Binghe blinked owlishly back at him. Idiot! Shen Jiu wanted to wring his neck, but first he needed Luo Binghe to get Shen Yuan out of the line of fire. Xu Zhiyi might hesitate to strike at his own disciples, but Shen Yuan would be vulnerable.

“Laoshi?” Shen Yuan was confused by Shen Jiu encouraging Shen Yuan to spend time with Luo Binghe.

Shen Jiu was surrounded by fools. He should have spent less time teaching weiqi and more time teaching obedience!

“Go,” Yue Qi told Luo Binghe softly.

Yue Qi’s shoulders were tense, and Shen Jiu could tell Yue Qi was seeing the same signs.

Luo Binghe tugged an uncertain Shen Yuan away.

Xu Zhiyi stalked up to Yue Qi and grabbed his robes, roughly yanking the collar straight. “Look at this mess,” Xu Zhiyi said. “I cannot believe you would go out like this. Shameless.”

“Shizun-” Yue Qi said meekly, glancing furtively at Shen Jiu.

Shen Jiu felt stuck in place. The slave masters had always made their punishments a display–an example to the others. Witnesses only made the beatings more vicious. But Qiu Jianluo had hesitated when others were watching. His blows were softer and slower, his words less biting when others were watching. Shen Jiu knew he was no Qiu Haitang. But could he protect Yue Qi by staying, or would he only make things worse?

Then common sense overrode the fear. This was the Sect Leader of Cang Qiong, not a slaver or jumped up noble. And Yue Qi was no slave boy. He was a cultivator who could defend himself. This would be no worse than the scoldings that Shen Jiu gave his students. Yue Qi would be fine.

“I’ve told you time and again not to waste time with that hopeless case Luo Binghe. He has cultivation potential but with his lack of discipline and focus he will fritter it all away. His true value is nothing.” Xu Zhiyi continued, his words growing clipped as his anger grew. “You should be cultivating your core, or studying to further yourself. Do better, I know you can. You were meant for more.”

“Yes, Shizun,” Yue Qi’s face was still forced upwards but his eyes were downcast.

Xu Zhiyi dropped his hand. “Come, Yue Qingyuan. We have further things to discuss. Privately.”

Yue Qi hesitated, looking at Shen Jiu.

“Now,” his Shizun said sternly, clearly displeased.

Yue Qi departed alongside his Shizun, and Shen Jiu hesitated. His heart pounded with an irrational fear in the wake of that man’s enraged voice.

But that look on Yue Qi’s face… Shen Jiu couldn’t leave him alone. Even if he only followed at a distance, Shen Jiu wanted to be there for Yue Qi in whatever way he could. If Yue Qi didn’t want him, he could send Shen Jiu back home, as Shen Jiu had expected he would all along.

So Shen Jiu followed after Yue Qi and his Shizun as they stepped off the cobbled path and walked through the forest of pines. Shen Jiu made sure to keep a respectful distance, too far to hear what was said even with cultivation-enhanced hearing. But he also kept them in sight, catching glimpses of white and black robes between the thick trunks of tall trees.

As Shen Jiu stepped carefully over fallen branches he spotted a glint of green among the leaf litter. It was a guanyin pendant, bright green, made of fake jade. Shen Jiu stared at it and his head suddenly began to ache. He reached down, and his fingers brushed the surface of the pendant.

Qi-ge.

Memories came back to him in an overwhelming rush. He couldn’t process it all at once.

Qi-ge, who he had loved in every way there was to love a person. Qi-ge, who Xiao-Jiu always tried to help, whether or not Qi-ge wanted it. Qi-ge was always there for Xiao-Jiu, and Xiao-Jiu wanted to always be there for Qi-ge.

And then Qiu Manor. Qi-ge, leaving him, promising to get help. Xiao-Jiu, knowing that it was unlikely, but still holding out hope. As long as Qi-ge made it out, everything would be okay. Qi-ge would come back and save him, if he could. And they would be together and happy once more. Xiao-Jiu had always had ambitions but the greatest of all of them had been to be by Qi-ge’s side forever.

Instead, Qi-ge had never returned.

He was surely dead. Because the one true thing in his life, the rock that Xiao-Jiu built his understanding of reality on, was that Qi-ge would always be there for Xiao-Jiu. And if he wasn’t there it was because he couldn’t be there. Because Qi-ge was gone forever, to where Xiao-Jiu couldn’t follow.

But before the grief could swamp him again, Shen Jiu remembered Qi-ge’s face. It was Yue Qi’s face.

Xiao-Jiu had been wrong.

Qi-ge had come here to Cang Qiong, become successful, and then never come back for Xiao-Jiu. Yue Qi, the succeeding disciple who could invite visitors to the peak as he pleased. Who was so well off he had two swords.

Qi-ge might as well be dead. He had abandoned Xiao-Jiu. Yue Qi didn’t want him. Yue Qi had replaced Shen Jiu. Upgraded to the superior model: Luo Binghe.

Shen Jiu’s heart cracked open. His chest felt tight. Shen Jiu felt like he had swallowed a bundle of thorns, and they scored burning lines of pain all through his throat.

He shouldn’t feel sad. Yue Qi had just gone on to better things. Shen Jiu was only ever a pathetic wretch clinging to his hems, wanting more than Yue Qi wanted to give.

Look at the life Shen Jiu had. It was nothing to complain about. It was more than Xiao-Jiu had ever dreamed of. Except that Qi-ge wasn’t there.

Xiao-Jiu had never imagined a life without Qi-ge.

They were both successful.

Shen Jiu should be happy for Yue Qi and leave him be. That was the right thing to do. Leave Yue Qi to his immortal life as the leader of a wealthy sect, respected by all.

What good would Xiao-Jiu, the filthy little street urchin, do for a man like that?

Shen Jiu’s heart twisted at the thought of marring that bright soul. Holding Yue Qi back from everything he could be. Because Shen Jiu was scum. Despicable. Unloved and unlovable.

He had a Shizun who didn’t care enough to keep him. Students who thought so little of him that they shut him out and away. Yue Qi–Qi-ge–who had left him and never come back.

He clawed viciously at those he cared about until they left him. He was a creature made of wire and knives. To hold him was to be hurt. Shen Jiu’s affections were cold and cutting. What sane man would love a wretch like him?

Shen Jiu would go home. He would go back. He wouldn’t trail pathetically after Yue Qi, holding him back, weighing him down.

Shen Jiu would go home and set Yue Qi free.

That was what he should do.

Shen Jiu picked up the guanyin pendant and followed after Yue Qi once more.

Chapter Text

Xu Zhiyi stalked off, clearly in a temper. Yue Qi was not with him. Then Shen Jiu spotted Yue Qi sitting at the base of one particularly large pine. Its roots cradled Yue Qi like they were trying to comfort him–and Yue Qi did look in need of comfort. His shoulders were bowed as though with a great weight, and his brow was furrowed.

Shen Jiu looked at Yue Qi and thought it served him right, to suffer. Yue Qi had betrayed Xiao-Jiu for this rich life. It was fitting that this life brought Yue Qi some measure of suffering in turn.

Shen Jiu was absolutely glad Yue Qi was miserable. Yue Qi deserved it! He deserved…

“Are you all right?” Shen Jiu asked grudgingly.

Yue Qi was his host here, and it seemed Yue Qi’s Shizun didn’t want them here. It was logical to be concerned about being sent back right away!

“I’m fine,” Yue Qi said, plastering on a stiff smile as though to reassure.

It was completely transparent. Shen Jiu could see right through him. Who did he think he was fooling? Qi-ge had always been such an awful liar. Totally incompetent.

The thought made Shen Jiu still. Yue Qi was the succeeding disciple of Cang Qiong. And he was an idiot who would be taken advantage of, and not realize it.

Shen Jiu thought of Luo Binghe, the new and improved Xiao-Jiu, dumping aphrodisiac water on Yue Qi’s head and leaving Yue Qi to suffer in the bed of an apparent stranger. It must have been worse for Yue Qi, facing the boy he’d abandoned, and needing his help. If Shen Jiu had his memories at that time, he could have refused. Tormented Yue Qi or left him for death or qi-deviation.

No, Luo Binghe was not a reliable ally for Yue Qi.

And then, when Yue Qi had disrobed–the scars. All over his body. Yue Qi had been scarred by the whips of slavers, but Yue Qi’s scars were something else entirely.

“Did your teacher give you those scars?” Shen Jiu asked, trying as well as he could to keep his icy rage from his words.

Yue Qi hesitated a moment too long. “No,” he said.

No one was looking out for Yue Qi here, without anyone like Shen Jiu at his side. Worse. They were hurting him.

And Shen Jiu could just return to the little school he was founding, and live as best he could a life without Yue Qi in it. He had been before, after all. He should miss Yue Qi even less now, knowing Yue Qi lived and wasn’t worth loving!

Shen Jiu knelt before Yue Qi and grabbed fistfuls of his fancy embroidered Qiong Ding robes in both hands. Shen Jiu shoved Yue Qi back against the tree he’d been leaning on.

“I know you’re lying,” Shen Jiu hissed.

The expensive fabric creased in Shen Jiu’s hands. A little more force and it would tear, irreparably.

Yue Qi’s eyes were wide. Shen Jiu could see his own silhouette in them.

Yue Qi’s lips trembled as he spoke. “He was saving my life,” Yue Qi whispered.

Yue Qi could have died.

If Shen Jiu left Cang Qiong, he might never see Yue Qi again.

Don’t do this. You’ll only bring him down.

Don’t do this. He’ll only hurt you more.

As all the sensible parts of Shen Jiu’s brain cried out for him to stop, Shen Jiu pulled Yue Qi harshly into a kiss.

Their teeth clacked together with a burst of pain. Shen Jiu tasted blood.

Yue Qi’s lips were soft and gentle. Shen Jiu bit savagely at them, wanting to hurt as much as love.

Yue Qi’s idiocy was an opportunity for Shen Jiu. Shen Jiu could use this connection to Yue Qi to gain power and rank. A better person would have stayed away from Yue Qi so as to not bring him down. But Shen Jiu was not a good person, and he would use Yue Qi until he had wrung back every drop of what Yue Qi owed him and was unwilling to give.

Yes. Shen Jiu would find a way to stay close to Yue Qi, for his own gain. Shen Jiu was only practical. And looking out for Yue Qi as he did–well, that would just be preserving the status quo. If Yue Qi were harmed, Shen Jiu would be cast out, no further opportunities available.

So this made sense. It was self-serving. Shen Jiu didn’t need to stop.

Yue Qi’s hands came up, tangling in Shen Jiu’s hair. Shen Jiu’s topknot and pin came tumbling down, to land in a dull crunch among dead leaves. His long hair slid free as though reaching to caress Yue Qi’s body.

Shen Jiu pulled away to catch his breath.

“Xiao-Jiu,” Yue Qi whimpered, eyes full of desire.

Shen Jiu burned to have stirred up that feeling in Yue Qi. He wanted this so badly–and more.

But then Yue Qi seemed to regain his senses and sorrow crept across his features. “I need to tell you-”

“Shut up!” Shen Jiu snarled and covered Yue Qi’s mouth with his own, so Yue Qi couldn’t say another word.

Shen Jiu yearned to dominate Yue Qi. To have his retribution in any way he could. Yue Qi thought he could leave Shen Jiu? Abandon him and forget him and move on? Well, Shen Jiu would take his revenge by taking what he wanted from Yue Qi, here and now.

And then a sudden blow to Shen Jiu’s side ripped him out of Yue Qi’s arms and sent him flying. He landed on his back and skidded to a stop, head cracking against a protruding root. Shen Jiu laid there and looked up at Xu Zhiyi standing tall and protective over his student.

And seeing him like this, Shen Jiu remembered the same figure standing tall over Shen Jiu. Twisting his mind and making him forget the person he had loved most in all his life.

“What did you do to me,” Shen Jiu croaked, stabbing pain lancing through his skull.

“You are a cockroach,” Xu Zhiyi snarled. “How did you undo my Reforging? What do I have to do to make you leave him alone?”

“Shizun?” Yue Qi’s voice was tremulous.

He didn’t understand. He always saw the best in people. Yue Qi never did learn how to see a monster when it was standing by his side.

“You made me forget him,” Shen Jiu said, and oh how he hated this man.

Xu Zhiyi had manipulated his memories to keep Shen Jiu away from Yue Qi.

“Why did you do it?” Shen Jiu demanded to know. “I was out of your way! I thought he was dead! Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?”

Xu Zhiyi gritted his teeth. “That was my mistake,” he admitted. “I didn’t realize there were two of you. I knew Yue Qingyuan was making excuses to visit. It was a distraction he didn’t need.”

Yue Qi was horrified. “You didn’t. Shizun–it was you? You cursed him?”

Xu Zhiyi leaned down to caress Yue Qi’s cheek. “Oh, Yue Qingyuan. You are my precious disciple. I would slaughter thousands to see you succeed.”

Yue Qi stared up at him, at a loss for words.

Xu Zhiyi straightened up and gave Yue Qi a fond look. “I remember when I first saw you. Digging a hole at the trials. All scrawny and underfed, grimy with the dirt of living in the streets. I took you in, and raised you high.”

Shen Jiu levered himself up to a sitting position. His head spun.

Xu Zhiyi began to walk towards Shen Jiu. “When you took up Xuan Su early instead of waiting until you were ready, I didn’t give up on you. I saved you from the wreck you made of yourself. I sacrificed a piece of my golden core to bind your soul to Xuan Su and keep you amongst the living. I kept you as my head disciple, even when you had to rebuild your core from the ruin you had made of it!”

Xu Zhiyi’s voice rose to a furious roar as he spoke, and his qi began to fill the air with palpable fury. “Xiao-Jiu, Xiao-Jiu, you cried over and over, hurting yourself trying to get out. This scum doesn’t deserve it! Why can’t you see that?”

Xu Zhiyi drew his sword.

Shen Jiu scrambled back. He knew if he stood, he would fall.

Yue Qi stood too. “You hurt the one I love,” Yue Qi’s lips set in a grim line as he glared at Sect Leader Xu. “Because I love him.”

“You’re better off without him,” Xu Zhiyi said.

“If you hurt him, I won’t forgive you.” Yue Qi vowed. His hands clenched into fists, but Shen Jiu could see how they trembled.

Xu Zhiyi gave him a sorrowful look. “I know. I never wanted to Reforge you. You’re like a son to me. But I won’t let your past hold you back.” He raised his sword. “When you’ve forgotten him, there will be nothing to forgive.”

Shen Jiu looked at Xu Zhiyi, bright and powerful, holding that gleaming sword ready to swing.

The man was right, of course. Yue Qi would be better off without trash like Shen Jiu holding him back. And who would miss Shen Jiu?

Qi-ge would. Qi-ge who still loved him. Who had never stopped.

“He’s not better off without me,” Shen Jiu said defiantly, bracing himself against a tree as he shakily stood. He looked into Xu Zhiyi’s shadowed face. “Qi-ge takes care of everyone but himself. He needs me, because none of you care if he’s happy. I do.”

Xu Zhiyi snarled and swung his sword. Shen Jiu pushed off the tree and jumped inside his guard, grabbing the man’s shoulder with one hand and his wrist with the other. A technique that his own Shizun had taught him for disarming a sword-wielding cultivator.

But Shen Jiu’s grip was kitten-weak and Sect Leader Xu was far beyond him. With his free hand, Xu Zhiyi grabbed Shen Jiu’s neck and held him in the air, dangling, to choke.

Shen Jiu let go of his arm to scrabble instinctively at the hand holding him so effortlessly in the air, trying to peel away strong fingers for the chance to breathe.

And a glowing blade of light emerged from Xu Zhiyi’s chest.

He dropped Shen Jiu, then fell to his knees himself. Yue Qi stood behind him, Xuan Su unsheathed and thrust through into Xu Zhiyi’s back.

Yue Qi blazed with power. The soft and gentle Qi-ge was gone. This was Yue Qingyuan, the storm that ripped great trees from the ground and sowed destruction in its wake.

Xu Zhiyi turned his head to look at Yue Qi, blood painted lips parting to release a ragged breath.

“Oh, Qingyuan,” Xu Zhiyi said. “You could have been…” And then he fell, and said no more.

“Sheathe your sword, you idiot!” Shen Jiu immediately snapped, moving forward to make him when Yue Qi hesitated. “I can’t believe you! You stupid, self-sacrificing jerk! I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

Yue Qi sheathed his sword and looked up smiling with eyes that glittered with tears. “Xiao-Jiu. You promise?”

Shen Jiu crossed his arms. “I’m not a liar like you,” Shen Jiu said.

Yue Qi’s face fell. “I’m sorry I left you there. It was my fault.”

Shen Jiu pulled the fake jade guanyin pendant from his sleeve and held it between them. It dangled glittering green in one of the patches of sunlight that made it through the trees.

“I promised to keep this with me always. But…” Shen Jiu’s eyes flicked to the body of Sect Leader Xu. “I lost it. If you forgive me, then I forgive you.”

Yue Qi’s lips turned down into a grimace, guilt weighing down his brow. “It’s not the same,” Yue Qi said.

“It is if I say it is! Listen to me!” Shen Jiu grabbed Yue Qi’s face, squeezing his cheeks.

Shen Jiu couldn’t be upset with Yue Qi when he had that silly smooshed face, and Yue Qi couldn’t make sad faces at him like that either.

Shen Jiu continued, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. We have to go on the run now, but we’ll be together.”

Yue Qi brought a hand up and carefully covered Shen Jiu’s hand with his own. Shen Jiu relaxed and brought their entwined hands down to rest on his heart.

“Yes,” Yue Qi said. “I’ll be happy as long as we are together.”

There was a snap of a twig breaking underfoot, and they both whirled around to find an interloper emerging from the brush. It was Shen Jiu’s teacher, Wei Zhiqiang.

“What are you doing here?” Shen Jiu whispered, but even as he spoke he was putting the pieces together.

His Shizun was wearing the green and white of Qing Jing Peak and a guan and yaopei that spoke of wealth and power, the likes of which he had never shown Shen Jiu.

His Shizun was no ordinary wandering cultivator; he was the Qing Jing Peak Lord.

Wei Zhiqiang’s eyes glittered with amusement at the realization dawning on Shen Jiu. “I hope you’re not so eager to leave already,” he said.

Shen Jiu couldn’t help but glance at Sect Leader Xu’s body.

“Ah, yes, what a tragedy,” Wei Zhiqiang announced. “It seems our Sect Leader has qi-deviated. So close to ascension, too. It is fortunate that our successors are such capable young men, ready to transition to leadership earlier than anticipated.”

Yue Qi’s hand gripped Shen Jiu’s tight. “You don’t have a successor,” he said, outwardly calm. But Shen Jiu could tell Yue Qi was terrified for him.

“His name is Shen Qingqiu,” Wei Zhiqiang said, equally calm. He could have been speaking of the weather. “He was revealed to me by divination–as was the fact that if he met Sect Leader Xu, one of them would soon perish. So I trained my successor away from the sect, and kept them apart for as long as I could–until I could be certain that he would be the one to survive.”

And now Shen Jiu was squeezing Yue Qi’s hand instead. His Shizun had been keeping them apart all this time–it would have been a betrayal if there had been more trust between them. It was always understood that they were using each other–there was no true bond between them. And yet.

“Your students will have to move to Qing Jing,” Peak Lord Wei told him. “But given the status that will come with studying at Cang Qiong, I’m certain they won’t mind.”

And Shen Jiu felt himself sag against Yue Qi as the tension in him fell away. Yue Qi wrapped his arms around Shen Jiu.

It was over. They could finally stay together. Xiao-Jiu and Qi-ge, Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan.

Chapter Text

Luo Binghe was delighted. Everything was great.

When Luo Binghe had first met Shen Yuan on a nighthunt, Shen Yuan had saved his life. Under Shen Yuan’s care, how could Luo Binghe not fall in love? But Shen Yuan was too loyal to the awful Shen Jiu to move to Cang Qiong with Luo Binghe. So Luo Binghe had arranged to get all kinds of missions anywhere near Shen Yuan, and stopped by to see him every time.

And then one time he’d dragged along the perpetually mopey and depressed Yue Qingyuan, on the basis that the mission needed two cultivators and Yue Qingyuan needed a distraction–and deeply regretted it. Because Yue Qingyuan kept making excuses to join Luo Binghe’s visits to Shen Yuan, and Shen Yuan occasionally smiled at Yue Qingyuan!

No, Luo Binghe absolutely had to prevent any further developments there.

He never would have predicted that Yue Qingyuan would take even more of an interest in Shen Jiu. Really, there was no accounting for taste. But if Yue Qingyuan ended up seeing Shen Jiu, then perhaps Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan could be convinced to relocate. And Luo Binghe would also no longer have to worry about potential competition for Shen Yuan’s heart.

So he’d deliberately doused himself and Yue Qingyuan in the water of Lover’s Dew Fountain Vine. It wasn’t really a noble sacrifice, since it meant Shen Yuan had very diligently cradled Luo Binghe in his arms all night. But Luo Binghe thought it was a very effective method for setting Shen Jiu and Yue Qi up with one another.

And it had worked! Unbelievably well!

Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan had come to Cang Qiong the very next day, and never left. And Shen Jiu was now the successor of Qing Jing Peak, bringing along Shen Yuan as a Qing Jing disciple!

Admittedly Luo Binghe hadn’t had much of a hand in that, and really wasn’t sure how it had happened. There were rumors that the late Sect Leader had found them in an indecent position in the woods and had a fatal qi-deviation over the fact that someone had dared sully his precious Yue Qingyuan.

Shen Jiu very clearly hated those rumors. But he also didn’t contradict them, which meant they were probably true.

Peak Lord Wei had taken over and was running things now, and Qiong Ding Peak in general had become a happier and freer place. Sect Leader Xu had never let his disciples have anything like personal lives if he could help it. But Peak Lord Wei was actively encouraging them to bond with others. So under the guise of inter-peak relations Luo Binghe and Yue Qingyuan could see Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu as much as they wanted.

Yue Qingyuan did go to see Shen Jiu a lot, and Luo Binghe still didn’t understand why he wanted to. They so often argued when they did meet. Luo Binghe waited out of sight of the windows of Shen Jiu’s bamboo house, wondering if this would be the day peak loyalty would compel him to bail Yue Qingyuan out of trouble.

“You were meeting Shang Qinghua in private! What else am I supposed to think?” Shen Jiu was snarling like a rabid dog.

“It wasn’t like that! He was arranging for delivery of… certain things I thought you might like.” Yue Qingyuan responded calmly.

“Certain–Oh. Oh.”

There was a long silence. And then, judging by the noises Yue Qingyuan and Shen Jiu began to make, they had made up. Enthusiastically.

Luo Binghe fled before he could hear too much, but inwardly he was thrilled. He was certain Shen Yuan’s guard dog of a teacher would be busy for at least the next shichen. And Luo Binghe intended to make good use of the opportunity.

Life was pretty good. Except for one thing.

Liu Qingge, the bane of Luo Binghe’s existence, had encountered Shen Yuan and was now trailing after him with offerings of monstrous beasts that made Shen Yuan’s eyes light up. That was not allowed! Only Luo Binghe could make Shen Yuan smile like that!

Luo Binghe wondered if there was a way to set Liu Qingge up with Shen Jiu as well. What was that expression Shen Yuan sometimes used?

All is fair in love and war!