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The whole situation had been something of a disaster and everyone knew it. First of all, it wasn’t often that the sect leader went on missions that weren’t diplomatic. This, perhaps, should have been a hint that someone needed to keep close to him in case something went wrong. No one had, of course. Yue Qingyuan was known to be the hammer of the sect. He’d fought Tianlang-jun. He’d be fine without a personal escort, surely.
Shen Qingqiu could have told the others that that was a ridiculous notion if any of them were even a little prone to listening. He was not fine. This was not fine.
Mu Qingfang, in direct contrast to everyone else here for this disaster, was, in fact, ecstatic and it was frankly enough that Shen Qingqiu wanted to smack him. Was he not seeing the same thing as the rest of them? Did he not understand? Their sect leader had gotten younger, looked like a teenager in a jarring contrast to the fact he’d always looked a little older than the rest of them. Even putting that aside, he was broken all over and covered in blood!
Fingers tightening on his fan as the healer descended on their sect leader in open delight, he snapped, just a little, because no matter the bad blood between them, that was his business, and no one else had any right to be pleased about the man suffering. No one else had the right. “What are you so excited about, Mu-shidi?”
If the man heard his sharp tone, he didn’t show it at all. “I can fix a chronic condition he has if I handle it correctly. Quickly, quickly, we have no time to wait and I’m going to need you to pry his sword out of his hands when I say. It’s probably going to be the only chance we ever have to fix this.”
“We can’t even get back to the sect first? Fix his broken bones perhaps?” Shen Qingqiu moved closer, gaze still sweeping for threats, but Qi Qingqi had long since taken off after their attackers with most of the disciples that had accompanied them and had yet to return. She hadn’t seen this.
“No time. I need to reseat this connection while it’s still weakened from his reversion and only then can I tend to his physical injuries. I would ask you to help directly but you haven’t done the same research.” Mu Qingfang was working even while he spoke, hands moving over the prone figure where he lay in the dirt and doing something that hummed against his senses almost aggressively.
Without thinking, he leaned down and put a hand on Xuan Su, shooting qi through it in a sharp rebuke to calm it when it started to rattle in Yue Qingyuan’s hands. He was shocked when it actually subsided under the jolt. He hadn’t thought that it would. “Strange...”
Mu Qingfang gave him a sharp look and then jerked his head at the blade. “Do it again. See if you can get him to let go of the hilt at least, that should help with what I’m doing here.”
Giving the healer another narrow eyed glance, he finally knelt, lips pressed into a flat line as he worked on prying Yue Qingyuan’s fingers away from the hilt of his weapon. He had an impressively tight grip even de-aged like this. Possibly with broken bones in his hands. If he wasn’t so upset by the whole situation he might even have been impressed. “Damn you, let go of it, it’s not helping you right now!”
Of course the contrary man had to wake up then, muzzy and unfocused in the alarming way that spoke of the trembling edge of a qi deviation, but when his gaze landed on him it stuck, and he smiled, looking so horribly, viscerally relieved to see him that it made him reel. “Xiao Jiu. Qi-ge’s sorry. Didi has to fix his mistakes again.”
Hissing at him and clenching his hands on the one he’d tried to open hard enough to make the boy whimper, he forced himself to ease his grip and go back to getting him to release the weapon. “Yes yes, you’re always very sorry. Let go of the sword!”
He was far too aware of the glances the healer was giving them both, but he was staying quiet which was the best he could ask for as the hand under his released the sword all at once like he hadn’t been hanging onto it like his life depended on it. “Mm. You’re here. Don’t need it.”
“What.”
“Shixiong, not now, remove the blade quickly.”
“Xiao Jiu is here so Qi-ge’s stupidity doesn’t matter. He didn’t need him to rush after all. Glad. Was going to be so late,” he whispered the words more than anything, nearly a sigh really as he seemed to be about to pass out again.
He was all too glad to swat his face to jerk him back to alertness when Mu Qingfang indicated he still needed him awake. “Late? You were still coming then?”
“Mm. Soon as I was let out. Promised. But you’re here.” Hazy and unfocused, the smile was none the less the most sincere he’d seen on the man’s face since they were children.
Unable to bear it, Shen Qingqiu jerked the blade fully away from him and sat down in the dirt, struggling to keep the choking sensation from crushing him as he dug his nails into the sheath. The last thing they needed now was for him to have a qi deviation as well, and he clung to his focus tightly with both hands. “Let out?”
Broken fingers gripped his sleeve to keep him from going any further, like they were children again and he had any right. It made his eyes sting. “Mm. Caves. Sword. Deviation. Xiao Jiu will fix it. He fixes everything.”
“Of course.” His breathing was shaky, and he saw Mu Qingfang’s alarmed look, but whatever he was doing wasn’t something he could stop in the middle of, apparently, because he did nothing else but what he was already doing. “You’re so stupid. Qi-ge is stupid.”
That got a laugh of all things, and he realized all at once he couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard him laugh. It made it even harder to see, the world blurry. “Yes. Xiao Jiu is the smart one. Can I sleep? Tired.”
Mu Qingfang did something that charged the air like ozone and he vaguely noted what seemed like a nod from him. “Fine. See if I care.”
“Mm. Understood.” And just like that, clearly having been waiting for permission, the hand on his sleeve went limp.
He only just managed to catch it before it dropped to the ground and possibly aggravated his injuries. “Well? Did whatever was so important work?”
“It did, Shixiong.” Mu Qingfang’s fingers touched his hand, ran a thread of qi through him to smooth down the worst of his agitation. “It didn’t fix everything, but I think it did enough he might be alright now. At least about that.”
He stared at him, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes without a single drop of moisture escaping them, then shook off his hand. “Good. Fine. Stop wasting your qi and focus on getting him stable for movement.”
“Ah. Yes. Of course, Shixiong.” Those seafoam eyes studied him for what Shen Qingqiu considered a moment too much longer before returning to Yue Qingyuan. Qi-ge. Just thinking the name ached, and he stumbled to his feet instead of remaining seated. Someone needed to be on guard until the others returned and it obviously wouldn’t be Mu Qingfang.
They’d figure out the rest later.