Chapter Text
Yue Qingyuan was once again overcome with a familiar fuzzy feeling in the back of his head.
With as gentle of movements as possible, he washed the ink-stained brush that he had been using to review coursework for his senior disciples. Some nights before, he had believed that he could fight off the fuzzy feeling and instead focus on his work whenever it came to be, but the last time he tried that he had spilled ink all over copies of budget reports that Shang Qinghua had sent to him for review. Now, he knew better than to try and fight the feeling, lest he makes his senior disciples upset for ruining their hard work with a clumsy mistake.
Yue Qingyuan glanced out the window, surprised to see that the sun had already set. He was familiar with occasionally losing track of time when he knew no one was relying on him to be somewhere, but he would have to guess that two whole shichen had passed since he had sat down with his work.
He hadn't ate in … longer than he could remember, but due to his level of inedia, he still wasn't feeling hungry. He knew that if Mu Qingfang found out, he would be very disappointed in Yue Qingyuan, and the thought made a pang of guilt shoot through his heart.
While he usually would feel at least some level of guilt for things like this, when he was feeling as fuzzy as he was now, any emotion seemed to become much larger than it usually would present itself as. Despite that still, he couldn't bring himself to find something to eat, as even calling on one of his disciples to bring him food made him shrink back with an unknown feeling. Besides, he wouldn't want to disturb anyone at this time of night.
Yue Qingyuan slowly stood up from where he was kneeling at the low table where he was working only moments prior, careful not to knock anything too important over as he made his way up. He always felt more clumsy, like his body was too big for him, when that fuzzy feeling buzzed in the back of his head.
Lucky for current-him though, past-him had decided to bring the papers to his own room instead of staying in his office to work, so his bed was only a few paces away. If he could just make it over there without tripping on his robes, then he would consider the small journey a success.
He had learned through trial and many errors that he was unable to push himself as hard as he would have liked when the fuzzy feeling thrummed at his skull, unless he wanted to feel like the world had come crashing down around him, leaving him lethargic and what he dared to call 'cranky' for shichen or days afterwards.
His legs flared in protest as he took a step, the feeling of being pricked by thousands of tiny needles running down his calves and his feet as he wobbled dangerously. He stuck out his arms instinctively, trying to keep his balance as he waited for the feeling to return to his legs.
Internally, he almost laughed at how stupid he must look. He was an immortal master of all things, one of the most powerful in the entire Jianghu, and he couldn't even keep his balance on a level floor without sticking out his arms like a disciple trying to balance on their sword for the first time.
Yue Qingyuan takes a small breath and pauses, almost bracing himself, before taking another step towards his bed.
He kept his eyes on the blankets and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He had learned that treating himself like a particularly young disciple was the best way to get himself to actually do something and not just sit on the floor feeling like his body was too big for his mind. But that was a thought he never focused on longer than he had to, so he kept his attention on the bed.
The room was bare and dark, he didn't care enough to put any energy into decorating it, but the bed was piled high with blankets. He allowed himself the luxury, as being too cold as he slept always made him think about things better left unthunk.
Yue Qingyuan had been too focused on the sight of the bed that he stumbled on the last step, his foot catching on the bottom of his robe, like he knew it would. It shouldn't be so hard to walk even while his brain was so fuzzy, but it was and it was frustrating.
He lets out an involuntary noise of distress as he catches his hands on the edge of the bed, his knees hitting the floor with a thump. His stomach lurching at the fall, leaving his hands that were now clutching at the blankets trembling.
His eyes were blown wide, his breath hitching as he breathed in shakily. The small fall should not have startled him, should not have scared him, as much as it had. He had had worse. He had survived worse. But all of that now seemed inconsequential to his now fuzzy mind. A mind that felt much smaller than it had only moments ago.
Something lodged in his throat as he slowly gripped at the blankets and crawled his way onto the bed, despite the pain he could still feel in his knees. He swallowed, trying to push back the lump now stuck in his throat. It was a familiar feeling, one of pushing back tears, one that he had practiced ever since he was still on the streets with Xiao Jiu, and his constant practice had paid off. His eyes were completely dry as he finally pulled all four limbs on the bed, not a single tear escaping his still wide eyes.
Yue Qingyuan took a deep breath, blinking away the stinging in his eyes as he let his hands go slack against the blankets. He sat up slowly, knowing the small trip shouldn't have rattled him as much as it had.
He shakes away the feeling as he carefully takes off his outer robes. He knew he couldn't stand up again to change into proper sleeping robes like this, he didn't want to end up on the floor again, so sleeping in his inner robes would have to do.
He tries not to think about how his hands were too big, how he was too big, or how the scars that marred his skin made him feel less and less connected to his body as he further undresses. He glances at the outer robes strewn across the ground, knowing that he would have to pick them up in the morning. But that would have to be a problem for future-him.
He shifts until he's laying down on the bed, trying to settle in a position that wouldn't leave him hurting in the morning. He turns on his side and pulls a pillow that he usually kept under his knees up to his chest, holding it close like it was some beloved toy that he had seen young mistresses carry around in the market while he had begged for coin with Xiao Jiu. Something in his chest settled, his fuzzy mind liking the feeling of having something to hold, even if it was just a pillow.
He glanced around the room, the only light now being from the stars outside, as the candle he had been using to work had burned out by the time he had made it to the bed. He knew he should have put it out while he was still over there, but he had been too focused on making it to the bed for it to have even crossed his mind to do so.
Xuan Su was hanging in it's sheath on the wall, the wall mount hanging where he could see it from anywhere in his room without needing it strapped to his back. The unfinished papers were still at the low table, and the walls were as bare as the day he had taken the room over from his Shizun, excluding Xuan Su. Everything was exactly as it supposed to be.
But for some reason he could only think of how alone he felt. He felt much too small for the large room meant for a Sect Leader, and the unadorned shelves and walls only made that feeling worse. A part of him wished that there was someone else there, even if just to have another body in the too-big room besides just him. His chest ached with want, and he squeezed the pillow closer.
He wanted Jiu-ge
Yue Qi had to wipe the thought from his head quickly. It was something stupid that his fuzzy mind had come up with on a similar night like this one. The longing for the person he had known the longest, that he could no longer reach out to, had thrummed in his chest at such a frequency that he could feel it pushing against his ribcage.
It was stupid, Jiu-ge Shen Qingqiu hated him, as he had every right to, so Yue Qi shouldn't be so selfish as to want the man to comfort him just because his own room felt too big for him. Besides, he was Qi-ge, the one to take care of everyone else, so he shouldn't want someone else to take on the burden of caring for him. That was something he needed to do, no one else was obligated to such a thing, much less Shen Qingqiu.
He curled around the pillow, trying to press it against his chest as much as he could without bruising himself, despite how the position would probably leave him sore in the morning.
The corner of the pillow brushed his lips, and for a moment he wanted to bite down, maybe just hold it for a bit, but he shook himself of the thought. Even if the fuzz in his head made him feel smaller than he should for a grown man, and made him have more … younger … impulses, he wasn't going to go as far as to actually suck on something like a baby would its mother's breast.
Yue Qi shut his eyes and buried his head into the pillow still clutched to his chest. Sleep clawed at him, and he could do nothing as it dragged him into its clutches, a deep longing still worming its way through his chest at the feeling of a too-small mind in a too-big body in a too-big room.