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Shen Qingqiu hated incompetence almost as much as he hated laziness. Which meant that when he was sent on a mission with Shang Qinghua, he very nearly requested someone else. Even the Bai Zhan brute would be less troublesome to deal with than his stuttering coward of a shidi. But he wasn’t about to give them all more reason to harp on him, and so he took the assignment with grace.
He would have protested quite a bit more had he known that investigating a border dispute would end up with them both captured by what appeared to be a small clan of demons. Specifically southern venomous saurian’s, if Shang Qinghua’s muttering was to be believed. Shen Qingqiu did not particularly care what type of demons they were, other than what might be useful in defeating them. But Shang Qinghua was on his way to a breakdown —more so than usual— which meant it was up to him to save them. Disgusting.
A few had been killed while capturing them, which was making any attempt at talking their way out of the situation all that much harder. A thin line of blood dripped from a cut just above his jaw, the smell all too familiar in that horrible way he could never seem to escape.
Whatever venom these beasts produced had gotten beneath his skin, making him feel weak and hot. They needed to get out of here, now, before it fully set in. But every attempt was thwarted, and Shen Qingqiu was starting to fear they wouldn’t be able to escape this one. Not with him cripled and Shang Qinghua useless.
Just as the terror crawling up his throat began to reach the point of despair —lizard-like hands tipped with sharp claws digging into his skin, laughing, slobbering mouths full of sharp teeth bearing down on him, nosing at him with vicious, hungry growls— there was a scream. It was loud and full of agony, a dissonant sound like shattering glass layered overtop a human voice with the earsplitting might of a fracturing glacier.
It was enough to knock him out of the state of helpless terror he’d fallen into, but it was merely replaced by a new primal fear. The fear you felt when in the room with something much bigger and more powerful than you. Shen Qingqiu hated that feeling, but it was better than the feeling of mouths and hands where they shouldn’t be.
Looking up, he found the source of the commotion. Shang Qinghua knelt within a small circle of fried earth, like he had been struck by a perfect bolt of lightning. Yet, not a hair was out of place. Oh, except for the fact that his eyes were glowing.
They were a solid blue, not a hint of pupil within, brighter than water reflected off a river. The light coming from them was so bright they could probably illuminate a room all on their own. And the blue was pristine, purer than any blue Shen Qingqiu had ever seen. Bluer than the sky, bluer than deep ice, bluer than paint. Those were not the eyes of an immortal cultivator. Those were not the eyes of a demon either. Shen Qingqiu had no clue what had become of his shidi, what had forced its way inside him, but that level of power couldn’t mean anything good.
The azure creature slowly blinked its eyes and looked around, only noticeable due to the way Shang-shidi’s head moved and the way his eyelids shifted. A hand rose, open palm curling into a fist, before suddenly jerking down at a diagonal as if pulling an unseen tapestry from a wall.
Just as suddenly as the movement itself, the entire clan of demons dissolved in front of his eyes. Except instead of turning into blood or dust, their bodies collapsed into bits of paper and flecks of cubic light. Within seconds those disappeared as well, not even leaving the charred corpses from the lighting behind.
Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help the way he swallowed. He may be an immortal cultivator now, but that didn’t mean he was invincible nor invulnerable. Pain could still bite him, fear could still strangle him, death could still consume him. And looking into this creature’s eyes, Shen Qingqiu felt his mortality with stark clarity.
The thing in Shang Qinghua’s body got to its feet, coming towards him. For some reason he had expected it to shamble or stumble like someone afflicted with plague, unused to moving in a human body, but instead it moved with elegant grace. Its movements were sure and smooth, almost too smooth, walking with an air of beauty and majesty that Shang Qinghua could never achieve.
Gritting his teeth, still struggling with the poison in his veins, he staggered his way onto his feet. Even if he could not fight in this state, he refused to let it loom over him like a wraith. If this was to be his death, then he would face it on his feet.
"Peace, my little Black Jade,” The creature cooed, “I mean you no harm, and no harm will come to you while I am here. You are safe."
A shiver went down his spine, neither hot nor cold, yet both lurid and slight, confusing his mind with the near contradiction. Despite everything indicating that this was, in fact, a very dangerous situation —with every piece of evidence pointing towards this thing being a threat to him— some part of him that could only find peace in the depths of a brothel practically relaxed when the thing addressed him. It’s voice resonated with him, feeling like how a child might when hearing their mother's call. Despite everything, he could not bring himself to be afraid the way he had been before. He shouldn't believe its words, and he didn't truly, but some part of him reacted as if he did.
It reached up slowly, like he was a flighty bird it must take care not to frighten, slowly brushing fingertips over his cheekbones. The blood that had been spilt seemed to reverse like time was being rewound, slipping back beneath his skin as if it had never left. The torrid heat was washed away by a gentle coolness radiating from the spirit’s touch. It was a relief to have it gone, to no longer feel like he needed to claw his own skin off, but he knew the danger had not yet passed.
He gave no indication of his plans, yet the moment his mind began to send the thought to his body to attack, a new surge from the creature pulsed through him. Just as suddenly as the demons had been killed and his health had been restored, all of the muscles holding him up went limp. He slumped into the creature's hold with a bitten-off yip of shock, trying to breathe through the freshly coursing panic as small, slender hands caressed his hair and back.
“Tsk tsk, none of that now. Swatting at me will do you no good, and we do not have time for games tonight.”
”Is that so?” He grunted out, trying to get his body to obey him.
“It is. There is little time, and much for you to learn. The fabric of reality has twisted, the flow of time has taken a turn it was not meant to. Tonight is a night of change. It will be up to you to make that change for the better.”
Shen Qingqiu did not care much for the babbling riddles of a celestial, he wanted to be out of this thing’s arms and back in control of his body. So many internal alarm bells were screaming, about the danger of men, and of beasts, and of being paralyzed with no way to stop anyone from hurting him.
And yet, despite knowing that it was a man’s body that held him, a man’s hands that carded softly through his hair, a beast’s voice that spoke to him though a man’s mouth, his panic did not reach the overwhelming buzzing it usually would in a situation like this.
He did not freeze up —at least no more than he had been forced to, but that was more of melt than a freeze— nor lose himself to memories of pain and blood. He did not spiral down into despair, unable to remember when things had been well.
His panic and fear were not gone, for if they had been he would have thought himself enchanted, but it did not consume him in the way he so loathed.
“Hmm,” Hummed the creature, “Why don’t we settle somewhere more comfortable? This is not a good place for the talk we need to have.”
Before he could protest the world melted away like the wax of a candle, blowing away like ash in the wind, solid objects turned to streaks of color before shifting and then becoming solid again. Except now they were standing in his bedroom on Qing Jing Peak.
“Here we go little Jade, nice and soft.”
He was lowered onto his bed, deceptively strong hands cradling him as if he was a delicate flower. He couldn’t decide if the tenderness irked him or soothed him, insulting his pride while also comforting his jagged fearful edges. Something shameful burned in his throat as how easily his body was maneuvered, offering no resistance nor protection no matter how sorely he longed for it.
“Why do you call me that?” He asked, trying to distract himself from the panic settling down to a simmer in the back of his head.
“Hm?” The thing hummed questingly, still messing with his hair, “Black Jade?”
Shen Qingqiu made an affirming noise.
"Because it is your name. Or at least the meaning of it. What it was meant to be, before the slavers called you nine."
His breath caught in his throat, a nauseating mix of feelings bubbling up inside him. He had always hated the name Jiu and all it represented. Hated how he couldn’t remember what he had been called before he was simply ‘the ninth slave.’ But apparently, according to this ethereal creature, it had always been his name. It just hadn’t always been meant as a demeaning label.
There was no true way to know if it spoke the truth, yet looking into those bright glowing eyes, Shen Jiu had no doubt that every word was utterly painfully sincere. Somehow, that surety just made the realization worse. The bite of it deeper, the cut longer, the wound wider. It knocked a crack into his carefully crafted shell, the faintest bit of unnaturally blue light shining through.
"And what should this master call you?" He rasped, mind still spinning at such a deeply rooted part of himself being ripped up and left unmoored.
"Hmm. You may call me Airplane."
"Airplane?"
That was a very strange name. But, well, this being certainly wasn’t human nor demon, why would it have their kind of name?
"It is a shortened version of what amounts to my courtesy name. Not that it is precisely the same, but it is the closest concept your culture has."
How strange, the thought of creatures of light having a thing such as courtesy names. Maybe they weren’t all that different, when stripped down to their bare essentials. He wondered what it looked like, in its natural form, when it wasn’t possessing his shidi.
“Now, to business. We have much to get through, and not much time.”
Shen Qingqiu raised an eyebrow, “And what does master Airplane request of me?”
Maybe if he said it eloquently enough, he could ignore the fact that this being could ask anything of him and he would be helpless to refuse it. Not without putting him and the sect at great risk. If it could take over a Peak Lord’s body and teleport inside Cang Qiong without setting off any alarms, he was certain it could do much worse to them all than paralyzation.
“I need you to do better.”
Shen Qingqiu spluttered, "Excuse me?!”
Even in a vulnerable state such as this, he would not allow himself to be insulted!
“You heard me. You need to do better. You need to be better. And being better requires trying to be better, which is closer to ‘doing’ than ‘being.’”
The flush of anger that filled his cheeks was burning hot, indignation at the utter affront to his character and his efforts thoroughly overwhelming any lingering fear at the situation he was in.
"I clawed my way out from-!" He began, snarling and spitting his words with no attempt to hold back.
This creature already knew more about him than it should, more than even he knew about himself, so he did not need to mince his words and hide his tainted past. But the firm, chilling voice of the celestial interrupted him, staring unwaveringly at him with its bleak gaze.
"You never left that manor. The only parts of you that escaped that place are the pieces most like him. Because you wanted to be a powerful man, and so you scraped away every bit of yourself that could be deemed a weakness. In doing so, you stripped away your very self. And when you became the powerful man you so wished to become, you acted as you believed all powerful men did. But in the end you weren’t acting like a powerful man. You were just acting like Qiu Jianluo."
Each word cut unerringly, extreme precision stripping him open like a fishmonger flaying his prize catch. Letters scraped against his bones, separating them from his flesh as his worldview flipped on its head. The painful, unavoidable truth of the speech clung to him, filling his lungs until they were struggling to work through the newly revealed clots.
"I am not-!" He tried to protest, wishing desperately to go back to the ignorance he had lived in before the revealing light of Airplane had illuminated him.
"Do you not leave the markings of a whip on your disciples? The young men who have no easy way to escape you? Who must do as you say, even if it is a detriment to them? Do you not behave harshly with them, wearing down their spirits so that they will be docile and fit into the mold you have made for them?"
It wasn’t the same, it couldn’t be the same! He had to teach them discipline, he couldn’t just slack in his duties like the Bai Zhan brute! They were all selfish little brats, young masters that had never felt true hunger in their lives! They did not deserve his- his sympathy!
Airplane’s gaze remained fixed upon him, somehow both soft and disapproving even without pupils or irises.
”Do you not see the world in a way that was molded by the people who hurt you? Do you not look at people not as people, but as talking objects to be used or maneuvered around? You are not a good man Shen Jiu, and you know it. But what saddens me is not the blood on your hands nor the venom on your tongue. It is the fact that you’ve given up trying. You don’t want to be better, and so you never will be, and everything and everyone around you will be worse off for it. Including yourself.”
He hated it, he hated it, he hated it! He did not want the truth, not about the world and not about himself! Not when it hurt like this, a horrible aching he knew he would never be able to escape.
“If this lowly one is so vile, then why is the great master Airplane still speaking to me?!” He sneered, hating the sinking pit of worms writhing in his stomach.
Airplane took no offense, still looking at him with overwhelming sympathy, “Because it is not too late for you. That is why I am still here, sitting with you, instead of any of the number of things I could be doing with my limited time. I know your fate should you continue down the path you walk, and it is a terrible one. But it can be avoided, should enough things change course.”
Of course, that was what this was. Some shimmering path of hope, some light at the end of the tunnel, just waiting for him to turn and walk towards it. He was a Cang Qiong Peak Lord, he knew better than that! Pretty lights were most often lures or poison or both, never some sign of a path to salvation. There was no such thing as ‘better’ for him. He had known that he was rotten, he just hadn’t realized how much. But that didn’t change anything. Not really.
”Why should I care what the fates have planned for me?” He grumbled.
A piercing stare bore into him, like Airplane was gazing into his soul. The feeling of this being seeing everything he had always kept hidden was only made worse with the knowledge he knew it had. Knew him better than he knew himself indeed.
“If you will not feel dread for your own fate, then feel it for your Qi-ge.”
If it had been possible, he’s sure his heart would have stopped in his chest. No one knew that name except him and Yue Qingyuan, except of course this being that knew the name he’d hadn’t even known himself would know it. Still, the shock of those words coming from another’s mouth was bad enough, without taking into account the rest of the sentence.
“W-what-?” He croaked out, voice suddenly hoarse.
”The poor man is always too late. Too late to save you the first time, and too late to save you the second. But just like before he puts in a valiant effort, this time actually dying in the process. Not that he didn’t nearly do that the first time, foolish man. He rushed only once in his life, and it cost him everything, so now he always waits for far too long. Stagnate until the time for action has long past, and any good that could have been done long gone.”
There was just… so much there for him to unpack. So much about his past and his present, and apparently about his future… it was enough to make his head spin and his chest constrict. It was all too much, overwhelming him with a different kind of panic. That selfless panic he so rarely felt, only ever directed towards the wellbeing of another. He’d spent so very long trying to put Yue Qingyuan out of his mind, intentionally not worrying nor thinking about him in any way, lest he ruminate on his betrayal.
A betrayal which… may not have happened? But if he’d had a reason all this time, why hadn’t he spoken about it? Why hadn’t he told him, any of the times he’d begged for an explanation?!
He huffed, the sound quite pitiful, and so he took a moment to breathe deeply and at least try to recenter himself. He could interrogate the idiot later. Right now he had a celestial giving him omens of a dire future he should probably heed.
”I will not allow Zhangmen-shixiong to succumb to this fate,” He said, both of them knowing what he wasn’t saying.
Airplane had convinced him. Even if he was lying, there wasn’t any harm in doing preventative measures. And if those preventative measures included… bettering himself, then so be it. He had spent years clawing his way up mountains others would have gladly kicked him down. This would be no different.
“Good,” Airplane said with a decisive nod. “Now we may begin part two.”
The fine hairs covering his body stood on end.
“Part two?” He asked with caution, suspicion layering his voice.
The corner of Airplane’s eyes crinkled in amusement, “Did you really think I would rely on talking you into a better ending? I know you better than that little one, you are far too stubborn for that to work.”
Once more his breath caught in his throat, trying to imagine what they might do to him and failing. Somewhere along the way his mind had come to multiple conclusions he didn’t actually have any basis for —notions of safety and honesty he would never reflexively expect from anyone else— yet he couldn’t bring himself to think of Airplane as malicious. Which meant that whatever he was about to do would at the very least mean well, even if it would only serve to crack him open further.
“What are you going to do to me?” He asked softly, an unexpected meekness tinting his voice.
He would rather it have been strong and commanding, but he wasn’t sure if it would have helped him any. This person already knew more than anyone else, had already slipped beneath so many of his walls, they probably would have seen right through him. They probably still do now.
Airplane’s entire being visibly softened, “Something that will help, I promise. I could put you to sleep, if you would like. I do not know if this will hurt, and it will at the very least make you uncomfortable.”
Shen Jiu could clearly hear both the apology and offering in their words. Shaking his head, he mentally braced for whatever was about to happen. If something was to be done to him then it would be done to him while he was conscious. Not that he thought Airplane would stop before achieving his goal, even if he begged, but he’d rather have the ability to protest than be completely helpless and oblivious.
He got a firm nod in return, “As you wish. Please try to remain calm, and tell me if you need a break. I may not have much time, but that does not mean I cannot be courteous."
Despite everything, that did give him some comfort. Up until Airplane started to undress him.
“W-what are you doing?!” He screeched, desperately wishing he could move his arms so he could cover himself.
The dreadful terror that had long ago simmered away into nothing surged with a vengeance, lashing at his already unsteady mind.
A hand cupped his cheek, and he looked up into pure blue.
"I know you, down to your last atom,” Airplane intoned, somehow tenderly soft and tremendously solemn, “Your body holds no surprises for me."
Shen Jiu didn’t know what that meant, not really, but it slowed his racing heart nonetheless. Something in those words reminded him that no matter what they looked like at the moment, this creature was not a man, and would not act like one.
“Clothing this intricate and covering is rare where I come from,” Airplane said conversationally, likely to distract him from the feeling of his robe slipping off his shoulders, “Depending on the location, you could see people walking around with very little covering their skin, and it wouldn’t be considered odd at all.”
An indirect assurance that Airplane would not look at him with perverted eyes, would not lust over his skin like others would.
“Of course, it depends greatly on the weather and the context. Nobody wants to go out without a few layers when it's snowing outside, but when it's hot people like to cover as little as possible. Shoulders, thighs, sometimes even the lower stomach. And that’s not even getting into swim wear. Then you’d get views of entire chests and legs up to the hip.”
Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but blush at the thought of such a sight, an entire crowd of people flaunting their skin so shamelessly. He couldn’t imagine it properly, it was so outlandish.
“There we go. Now, I should probably grab something to help steady things.”
Airplane tapped their chin and glanced around, turning their head and giving a little ‘aha!’ as they caught sight of whatever it was they were looking for. A moment later they returned, holding one of his clean writing brushes.
They gave him a reassuring smile, before bringing the brush up to his arm and pushing. It wasn’t a rough push, nor particularly strong, but the bristles did not meet the resistance of skin they were supposed to. The brush dipped beneath his skin as if it were ink, painless and bloodless but still felt. The feeling of a numbed touch suddenly became a sharp tingling, and he watched with an almost detached horror as the brush pulled up and white strands came with it. They clung to the brush like strands of a spider web, slowly straightening out as they were stretched in ways they were not meant to.
Airplane reached out and gently pinched the strand between his fingertips, sliding along its straightened length and leaving an iridescent sheen behind. He could feel it, a coolness that was less cold and more an absence of heat. The sharp burning pins and needles that he associated with his ruined meridians vanished beneath Airplane’s touch, soothing an invisible but not intangible pain.
It was about then that he realized what it was he was seeing. Airplane had pulled his meridians out of his body and was physically straightening them out.
Something like hysteria bubbled within him as he watched the coated part of his meridians slip back beneath his skin, settling down easily like there had never been a problem in the first place. He could glimpse light shining from beneath his skin, indicating where Airplane had already worked.
‘Useful,’ he thought absentmindedly, still trying to pick up the pieces of his brain due to how many times it had been broken today. Maybe some sleep would do him some good. He could make all of this tomorrow-him’s problem.
“Airplane-sama, I think I would like to sleep now,” He heard himself say faintly, as if from far away.
“Alright A-Jiu, you rest now. There’s a lot of work ahead of you, but I know you can do it. Even once I am just your Shang-shidi again, I’ll always be there. Even if he doesn’t like to admit it.”
Shen Jiu hummed slightly as his vision faded to black, not fully registering the words being said to him. More earth-shattering words to add to the pile, he was sure. Something to dissect another time. Right now it was time to sleep, with soothing coolness in his veins and a persistent bit of hope once more sparking in his heart.
Huh. He’d thought he’d gotten rid of that.
…
Oh well. What could a single spark do?