Chapter Text
“The artifact you are tasked to procure is assumed to be located at a cavern on Mount Wutong.” The Qing Jing Peak Lord points its location on the map with a slender finger. “Although it isn’t very hidden, the area is known to be infested by demons and monsters too strong for the average cultivator to face,” she explained with an even voice, “and since this area is on the other side of the border with the Demon Realm, no cultivation sect has bothered with exploring and recording it thoroughly. It is necessary to proceed with caution, understood?”
The head disciples, Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge, assent without a single comment. Shen Qingqiu appears to be calm, but the blank expression and the aborted motion of covering half of his face with his fan evidence his distaste. Liu Qingge, on the other hand, doesn’t bother hiding how he feels, scowling down to the map, and curling his hands into fists by his side.
The Peak Lords exchange a side look. The Bai Zhan Peak Lord, with her arms tightly crossed, breaks the silence.
“Speak your mind,” she orders, locking eyes with her disciple. “Do you have any problems with this mission?”
“No, not the mission.” Liu Qingge sustains her gaze, transparent in his resolution. “I won't go with Shen Qingqiu. I want another partner.”
Having expected something like this, the Peak Lords only steel their gazes. They know about their disciples’ animosity toward each other, of course. They have been expecting one of them to say something like this at any moment.
At his side, Shen Qingqiu’s posture becomes more rigid, and his gaze acquires a coldness that was slowly becoming the Qing Jing head disciple’s trademark. Although the urge to speak up against Liu Qingge was strong, he didn’t dare speak out of turn, at least not in front of his shizun.
“You have no say in the matter,” the Bai Zhan Peak Lord says with finality. “It has been settled. You and Shen-shizi are to accept this mission.”
“But he tried to kill me!” Liu Qingge exclaims in a burst of outrage. He backs down, however, as soon as he sees his shifu’s scowl grow deeper. As if remembering who he is speaking to, he bows his head and joins his hands forward to show respect to the Peak Lords and to make up for his outburst. “Apologies, but I cannot accept if it's him. He tried to backstab me on our last mission together. I ask shifu and shibo to assign me another partner.”
When this story first came out, right after the three disciples’ return to the sect to deliver their mission report, the Peak Lords found themselves in a… complicated position. It’s not uncommon for disciples of different peaks (sometimes even from the same peak) to find animosity between themselves. They understand, of course they do, for they were once disciples themselves and had felt the rivalry and competition that mark some of the relationships between peaks. Qing Jing and Bai Zhan have one of those relationships, with “brutes” or “scholarly pricks” being thrown around from time to time. The hostility, though, was somewhat mitigated by the respective Peak Lords’ civilized posture towards each other.
The thing is, they don’t expect Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu to get along.
Of course they don’t.
But the thing is, they are in the line of succession for Peak Lords.
They don’t have to like each other, but they must know how to work together without killing each other. This mission was of extreme importance not only because the artifact they were going to retrieve was essential for future sect plans, but also to test Shen Qingqiu’s and Liu Qingge’s efficiency while working together.
So, they wouldn’t bend in their decision.
"Shizi, this master understands your aggrievance,” the Qing Jing Peak Lord starts with simpathy. “You may doubt my disciple's intentions, however, you shouldn't doubt his intelligence. There is a reason he has been appointed as my successor, after all.” She sends a pointed look to Shen Qingqiu, underlining something reserved solely for his understanding. Growing in her posture, she incorporated the refinement her peak was known for to look over Liu Qingge again. “Rest assured that no harm shall come from this master's disciple in this mission. This master is sure two head disciples are more than capable of putting their enmity aside for the sake of the sect.”
Gritting his teeth, Liu Qingge considered insisting a little more even with the Qing Jing Peak Lord’s guarantee, but at his shifu’s pointed look, he agreed.
“Does Shen Qingqiu also have thoughts on this matter?”
“To answer Shizun, this disciple has no qualms about executing the mission with Liu-shidi.” Although his straight answer and calm tone made him seem unperturbed, it wasn’t enough to mask the sharp side look he sent Liu Qingge.
“Good.” Choosing to ignore that, the Qing Jing Peak Lord continued. “Any more questions about your assignment?”
“No, Shizun.”
“No.”
“Good. You are to report first to the Sect Leader upon arrival and then to us, separately. Depart by sunrise tomorrow. You’re dismissed.”
“Shen Qingqiu!”
Shen Qingqiu is forcedly stopped by the hand grabbing his arm, only having time to groan quietly under his breath before turning back to Liu Qingge’s ugly scowl. He had hastily exited the Qiong Ding meeting hall precisely to avoid confronting Liu Qingge, as he thought it surely would happen given how the meeting had gone. He almost managed it — Xiu Ya in hand, prepared to take flight — when Liu Qingge suddenly manifested at his side and grabbed him.
“Didn’t you hear me?! I called!” Liu Qingge’s surly expression implied he had been calling for him for a long time, but Shen Qingqiu is sure he only heard him twice since they exited the main hall.
“Oh? This one didn’t notice, shidi,” Shen Qingqiu stubbornly answers, a malicious glint coloring his eyes. It certainly doesn’t go unnoticed by Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu doesn't mean for it to be. “What does shidi want from this shixiong?”
Liu Qingge looks like he wants to strangle him. His hand tightens its hold on Shen Qingqiu’s upper arm as they lock eyes in a fierce battle. Sparks fly as the disciples passing through the entrance to Qiong Ding Hall feel sweat forming on the back of their necks with the sheer hostile energy that emanates from the pair and hurry to get out of the line of fire. As much as Liu Qingge looks like he wants to brawl with Shen Qingqiu right then and there, something in his expression changes as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
“A truce.” The distrust in his eyes is now accompanied by his usual irritating determination.
It irks something in Shen Qingqiu.
“What?”
“A truce, I said. Let’s not fight on this mission.”
“The brute asking for no fight,” Shen Qingqiu scoffs, trying to provoke with a dry laugh. “That’s hilarious.”
“I’m serious.”
Looking into his eyes now, Shen Qingqiu notices his determination is more prominent than his uglier feelings. The irk becomes overbearing.
How dare he look down on me like this?! As if there is any need to talk about a truce, as if I would be idiotic enough to put my position at stake because of a childish rivalry! Does he think he’s better than me for being the first to bend the knee like that?
Shen Qingqiu yanks his arm from under Liu Qingge’s hold. It’s easy, he realizes with shame, because Liu Qingge had slacked his grip just moments before. It sours his mind, his thoughts running like acid.
Disgusting.
“This shixiong thought the matter had been settled already,” he puts his sword away in a controlled motion and hides his loathing behind his fan, “but it seems Young Master Liu still needs to be reassured. Don’t worry, this shixiong isn’t planning on being mindless about his head disciple’s duties as some others are.”
Confusion mixed with suspicion tints Liu Qingge’s face. Shen Qingqiu smiles spitefully behind his fan.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Forgive this shixiong, but what exactly went over Liu-shidi’s intellect this time?”
Liu Qingge double takes, face contorting into offence. Shen Qingqiu’s hidden smile grows into glee.
“You—! Are you insulting me?!”
“If Liu-shidi has to ask than the answer is no, this shixiong is not insulting him.”
“Shen Qingqiu—!” Liu Qingge’s hand flies to his sword’s handle threatening to pull it out of its scabbard.
Shen Qingqiu could laugh. He tuts at Liu Qingge with electric satisfaction running through his veins.
“Ah, ah, Liu-shidi, weren’t we just talking about a truce?”
Liu Qingge tightens his hold, his hand trembling with effort, before releasing it entirely with a huff. His qi signature is erratic from its frustrated misuse.
Pride soothes over Shen Qingqiu’s chest, but it’s swiftly washed over by a single sentence.
“You agree to the truce, then?”
The irk comes back along with a sharp coldness. Shen Qingqiu feels his upper lip curl up as he answers, “Yes.”
Liu Qingge eyes him for some time, probably searching for signs that he’s lying. Shen Qingqiu refuses to give him any.
“Good,” he says with a deep breath that almost instantly calms his qi down. “I’m off, then,” he suddenly decides, unleashing Cheng Luan and hopping on top. “See you tomorrow,” he throws over his shoulder.
Left alone with his bitterness, Shen Qingqiu feels the need to have the last say.
“Don’t be late,” he says with his qi-infused voice.
“I won’t,” comes the reply.
Shen Qingqiu huffs, slapping his fan shut. He unleashes Xiu Ya in a calculated motion and puts himself on his way to Qing Jing Peak. He flies just at the right speed, not too slow, not too fast. Behind a cold façade, hatred and bitterness poison his thoughts.