Work Text:
Ever since Shang Qinghua was little, even before transmigrating, he seemed to collect scratches and scrapes easily.
In his old life, it was because he was fairly clumsy. Tripping and skinning his knee or bumping an elbow into a wall was common, and stubbing his toe was a weekly occurrence. After transmigrating, his clumsy nature seemed to fall away, left behind in the world of modern convenience. Instead, Shang Qinghua’s sudden ability to avoid the grief of smacking his head against an open cabinet door was transferred into more life-threatening issues.
Shang Qinghua’s next life was spent stuck between the system’s constant missions that all usually ended with severe bruises or a sprained ankle, and his weekly assignments from Mobei-jun left him with deep scratches and broken bones. Shang Qinghua had spent more time dressing his wounds during his first few months on Cang Qiong than he had during his entire life in the modern world.
Putting himself back together after every mission, despite being annoying and tiresome wasn’t the hardest part. No, the worst part was trying to gain access to medical supplies as an An Ding outer disciple.
The proper protocol was to report to a hallmaster or a senior disciple before being directed to a Qian Cao disciple who would handle it from there, but Shang Qinghua couldn’t do that. Half of his scrapes came from doing spy work for demons and it would draw far too much attention if he started showing up to Qian Cao every other day for treatment. So, Shang Qinghua had to do the next best thing; steal supplies and hoard them in a safe spot so he could be ready for any snag after a job.
Despite all his careful planning, even the genius of preprepared medical supplies fell through, which led to Shang Qinghua’s current problem.
After becoming head disciple, the system’s missions had decreased in severity, most of them appearing before him with descriptions like; “Turn paperwork in on time +10 points,” or “Continue to work for Mobei-jun +25 points.” Shang Qinghua was spending less and less time worrying over the system and instead was focusing on An Ding as a whole and the stress that it accumulated. This is why when Shang Qinghua accepted the side quest from the system while on an assignment for his Shizun, he didn’t expect it to be so dangerous and difficult that he ended up desperately needing that secret stash in the Qian Cao storage house.
. . .
“Ouch- fuck!” Shang Qinghua leaned into the large crate, unintentionally putting pressure on a deep bruise on his abdomen. Usually, there was a small bag full of salve and bandages in the bottom corner of the crate, but currently, Shang Qinghua was struggling to find it. To be fair, Shang Qinghua hadn’t checked to see if it was still there over the past four months, not needing any of the advanced supplies as he kept a decent stash in his current head disciple home. But, Shang Qinghua had run out at home and thus was neck deep in cursing himself out as he continued his furious searching in the crate.
“Dammnit, where is it?” Shang Qinghua ground out frustratedly. He leaned further into the crate, tempted to just climb inside. Before he could make up his mind the dark store room suddenly was lit up in light.
“Where is what?” Called a masculine voice, raspy with sleepiness. Shit!
Shang Qinghua scrambled out of the crate, falling flat on his ass in an attempt to meet the inquiring voice head-on. Sparing a few seconds to make himself a little bit more presentable, Shang Qinghua held up his hands in surrender.
“This lowly one apologies for sneaking in- I- this one was only checking in on the.. s-supplies..?” Shang Qinghua trailed off, cringing at his own excuse. Really? Checking on supplies, he had been cosplaying a raccoon with how deep he was in those crates.
“Shang-Shixiong?” Started the voice again. The person was holding a candle, illuminating the room in a soft warm light. Oh great, he knows- “It’s not that I don’t believe you or anything but… why exactly are you here this late? And working in the dark no less?”
Wincing at the sound logic, Shang Qinghua lowered his hands and squinted past the light to see who exactly had caught him. Long wavy raven hair, a pair of thin glasses, and a faint mustache still in the process of growing. It was Mu Qingfang. Double shit!
Not only did Shang Qinghua have the terrible luck of someone catching him in the act of stealing medical supplies, but it was the head disciple of Qain Cao. Shang Qinghua was screwed!
“Well, I-” Shang Qinghua stumbled over his explanation, looking away from Mu Qingfang awkwardly. Shang Qinghua was tired! He barely had enough energy to look for these stupid supplies in the first place, he definitely didn’t have enough to come up with anything believable.
Before Shang Qinghua could continue to make a fool of himself, a cool hand suddenly cupped his cheek. The hand gently nudged Shang Qinghua to look towards it’s owner, to which Shang Qinghua complied stiffly.
“You’re hurt!” Gasped Mu Qingfang. His brow was furrowed in something, maybe worry? Shang Qinghua wasn’t sure.
Shang Qinghua opened his mouth the respond but was cut off yet again as Mu Qingfang gingerly snatched up Shang Qinghua’s hand and looked horrified at the scratched-up knuckles and purpling fingers.
“What were you doing? Fighting demons?” Mumbled Mu Qingfang as he fondled Shang Qinghua’s bet up hands in alarm. Mu Qingfang then let out a shaky sigh and stepped back from Shang Qinghua. He looked back at Shang Qinghua with concerned eyes. “Shang-shixiong, I- you don’t have to sneak around in the dark if you need help, Cain Qao is always open to other disciples... No matter how little or big the problem.”
“It’s not like I want to- uh- s-sneak around but I-” Shang Qinghua shook his head, cutting off the rest of his sentence. Shang Qinghua took a deep breath, fighting back the frustrated tears that burned behind his eyes. The problem isn’t the injuries Shidi, it's how I got them…
Shang Qinghua always felt so isolated and tired, and honestly, how could he not? He worked himself to the bone with head disciple duties that left him with migraines from the eye strain. He labored over missions dictated by his monotoned system that would snatch away points if the task was completed in an unsatisfactory way. Not to mention all the hours spent sweating under the frozen stare of Mobei-jun. There was no one to heal his injuries, no one to help with the exhaustion of completing what felt like three full-time jobs, and no one to just talk to.
“I just can’t do that.” Shang Qinghua finished. He wrung his hands together and prepared for the inevitable punishment. Mu Qingfang, probably wouldn’t assume that Shang Qinghua had been doing this for years, and thus would only tell his shizun about this singular incident. Shang Qinghua scrunched his eyes closed. The sentence for stealing some minor medical supplies would probably be minimal, but Shang Qinghua could kiss his sweet reserve of remedies goodbye after this.
Cool fingers pulled Shang Qinghua’s hands apart and gentle Qi began to make its way through the battered hands. huh?
Shang Qinghua opened his eyes, staring straight into the kind face of Mu Qingfang.
“You don’t have to tell me anything and I won’t report you,” Mu Qingfang started softly, “I’d just rather you got help from me, or well any trained healer. These injuries need more than just a simple salve or bandage.” Mu Qingfang help up one of Shang Qinghua’s hands as an example.
“I don’t know exactly what you are doing that would cause these injuries, I’ve seen you with bandaged fingers and limping at the head disciple meetings.” Mu Qingfang continued, “But, I won’t ask you any questions. So please, if you are ever injured just come to me, no matter how small. I’d rather not see any of my fellow sect mates or well, fellow peak lords injured.”
Mu Qingfang smiled softly, the candlelight turning his normally deep brown eyes into warm honey-tinged ones.
Oh
Oh
Shang Qinghua’s face felt warm, the whole room felt warm. No one ever really asked about Shang Qinghua’s limps or bruised knuckles. For a long time, Shang Qinghua just assumed no one cared. But maybe this time…
“I-” Shang Qinghua began before stopping, a small smile forming on his face. “Okay.”
. . .