Work Text:
Liu Qingge slams his way into Yue Qingyuan’s office, startling him in the middle of dipping his brush into ink. Yue Qingyuan stares mournfully at the ink splattered all over the letter to Huan Hua he has spent the better part of the morning composing.
“Shidi—”
“Where is Shen Qingqiu?” Liu Qingge interrupts, marching forward.
“What? Shen Qingqiu?” Yue Qingyuan’s head snaps in Liu Qingge’s direction, letter shoved aside for much more important matters. Alarm rises within him, but he tries to shove it down. “Shidi, this one is not kept up to date on Shen-shidi’s comings and goings.” His heart aches at the thought; Shen Qingqiu does not owe him that information. Does not owe him anything, really.
“We planned a night hunt. He didn’t show.” Liu Qingge states, arms crossed in front of him.
“I see.” He takes deep breaths, trying to remain calm, but the earlier alarm returns, stronger, more urgent. Shen Qingqiu would not appreciate his needless hovering, he knows. So he tries, to no avail, to ignore his rising alarm. “Have you visited the bamboo house?”
“Yes.”
Yue Qingyuan resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. This Shidi of his… As reliable as Liu Qingge always is, getting his Shidi to explain anything is always an ordeal.
“And what did Shidi find out?”
“Shen Qingqiu wasn’t there.”
He holds back a deep sigh. “Did Shidi inquire with Shen-shidi’s disciples?”
“No.”
“Shidi.” Exasperation tints his words. “Wouldn’t his disciples have a better idea of where Shen-shidi is than this Shixiong?”
Liu Qingge gives his words a bare few seconds of thought before simply answering: “No.”
“Shidi…”
“I report to Shixiong when leaving the sect.”
“What…” Yue Qingyuan pauses to think for a few moments. Liu Qingge does report in every time, even if only by barging in and stating his intention to leave. Does he expect other peak lords to do the same? “Shen-shidi has not been by today. This one unfortunately has not heard anything from him.”
Liu Qingge frowns, brows slightly furrowed. He seems to think briefly before nodding and turning to leave. Evidently, in typical Liu Qingge fashion, he has decided that the conversation is over, Yue Qingyuan thinks ruefully.
For a moment, Yue Qingyuan thinks of simply letting him go. He taps his fingers restlessly against his desk, holding himself back from following his Shidi. If anyone can be trusted to locate Shen Qingqiu, Liu Qingge can, right? As if drawn by an invisible force, he looks toward Xuan Su, leaning against his desk at his side. And yet… what if something really is wrong?
His hand reaches for the sword, grasping the hilt in a white-knuckled grip.
What if Yue Qingyuan is too late, once more?
(What if this is just another failure in a long series of failures?)
More hands can’t hurt, right?
Liu Qingge is already at the door, wide open from when he charged in earlier. He takes a step over the threshold and—
“Wait.” Yue Qingyuan abruptly stands grabbing Xuan Su. “This one will come with you. We should check Qing Jing again; Shen-shidi’s disciples may have more information on his whereabouts.”
A simple nod answers him, once again, and, together, they head off in the direction of Qing Jing Peak.
---
“Reporting to Shibo. Shizun left in a hurry a little more than a shichen ago. This disciple is unsure where Shizun went.” Shen Qingqiu’s head disciple, Ming Fan, says, saluting respectfully.
“Thank you Shizhi.” Yue Qingyuan answers, heart racing. He had hoped they might get a straight-forward answer from Shen Qingqiu’s disciples, that they could put the whole matter to rest. His hand, which has not left Xuan Su’s hilt, tightens convulsively and he resists the urge to start pacing in front of Shen Qingqiu’s head disciple. “Did Shizhi notice anything… strange with Shen-shidi before he left?”
For a moment, Ming Fan looks around hesitantly, wringing his hands together. Looking more unsure than he has in years. More unsure than he has since being thrust into leadership duties when Shen Qingqiu had… when Shen Qingqiu had been absent from Cang Qiong.
Then, his gaze lands on Liu Qingge, standing next to Yue Qingyuan, radiating frustration at the slow proceedings. Ming Fan’s face scrunches up in worry; evidently, he is aware that Shen Qingqiu was meant to be on a night hunt with Liu Qingge. That Liu Qingge’s presence here meant his Shizun’s disappearance was unrelated to the night hunt in question.
A small, horribly resentful corner of Yue Qingyuan’s mind wants to blame that… demonic husband of Shen Qingqiu’s, but…
“Apologies Shibo, this one is unsure whether he should say or not.” Ming Fan seems to think for a moment. “Shizun… Shizun did receive a strange note this morning. This one delivered it to him along with breakfast. It was marked for Shizun’s eyes only and this one did not dare open it without Shizun’s permission. Shizun looked… alarmed at the contents of the note, but did not indicate what was wrong.” Ming Fan looks at the ground, one hand clenching around the hilt of his sword. “Shizun didn’t touch his breakfast and left soon after.”
“A strange note?” What could have alarmed Shen Qingqiu so? “Might we have a look, Shizhi?”
“Shizun should have left it in the bamboo house.” Ming Fan answers, staring at Yue Qingyuan, eyes filled with determination. “Of course, this disciple would not dare to enter the bamboo house without permission to look at Shizun’s correspondence. Even if Shizun might have left the note in question on his desk when he left.”
Yue Qingyuan smiles knowingly at the young man. How well he’s grown, really.
“Of course not, Shizhi. This one appreciates your assistance.” With a shallow bow, Yue Qingyuan walks away, in the direction of the Rainbow Bridge, trusting Liu Qingge to follow.
They walk in silence for a few short minutes, before Liu Qingge breaks the silence.
“The note?”
“Yes. But we should take a slightly circuitous route, to avoid implicating Ming-shizhi.”
Liu Qingge scoffs, shaking his head. “Useless mind games. You and Shen Qingqiu both. He’ll know. What’s the point?”
This Shidi of his, Yue Qingyuan thinks, laughing softly. As blunt and direct as ever.
“But without proof, no blame may be cast upon Ming-shizhi.” Though a lack of proof would not have mattered before that fateful qi deviation, so many years ago. Likely, it would not truly matter now either, in a different way, with this softer version of Shen Qingqiu.
“Useless. Let’s hurry, we’re wasting time.” Without another word, Liu Qingge stomps ahead, turning back in the direction of the bamboo house. Following a different path than the one they came from. Yue Qingyuan smiles and hurries after him. Despite his callous words, Liu-shidi truly is the most reliable.
Following Liu Qingge’s pace, they arrive rather quickly at the bamboo house. Without any preamble, Liu Qingge slams open the door to the Qing Jing Peak Lord’s residence, marching in and immediately looking around for the mentioned note. He finds it, simply discarded on the floor. As if Shen Qingqiu had dropped it and rushed out without caring what happened to it.
Liu Qingge picks it up and hands it over to Yue Qingyuan to read, clearly unconcerned with its contents. It is a simple piece of folded paper, nothing like the typical official correspondence they receive; it is clear why Ming Fan thought it strange.
Yue Qingyuan unfolds it. The note holds two simple sentences.
I know what you are.
Come to Python’s Heart Plains
---
Yue Qingyuan pushes himself faster, heart pounding within his chest, Liu Qingge close behind him.
Someone threatened Shen Qingqiu. Someone found their way onto Cang Qiong Mountain with the specific intention of threatening Shen Qingqiu and succeeded.
Has he failed Xiao Jiu once more? That note was clearly a trap. A lure made specifically to drag the Qing Jing Peak Lord from the safety of the peaks and, as much as Yue Qingyuan is loath to admit, from the safety of his demonic husband’s arms.
Underneath the mounting panic of the still missing Peak Lord, Yue Qingyuan cannot help but feel reassured by Liu Qingge’s steady presence.
Long ago, when Yue Qingyuan had just arrived on Cang Qiong Mountain, Liu Qingge had been one of the few young masters to entirely ignore his state of utter disarray. Before Yue Qingyuan had learned to blend in with the rich young masters of Qiong Ding Peak, before he had learned proper manners and unlearned years of street living, Liu Qingge had been there. Eager to cross swords, to train together. Eager for whatever challenge Yue Qingyuan could offer.
Then, when Yue Qingyuan had believed Xiao Jiu dead, Liu Qingge had been his rock. He had shown up constantly, always there, a silent, comforting presence. Liu Qingge had dragged him out on night hunts, helped him release his frustration on the wildlife. Dragged him out to eat, to train, to walk. Anything to prevent him from wallowing in the misery of his failures.
In those years of worsening enmity between Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge, Yue Qingyuan had felt torn between his reliable shidi and his oldest friend. Both, people he owed a great debt to. Both, people he cared for deeply. How much he had wanted them to be friends. It had been difficult, trying to find a middle ground between them. He hadn’t done well, he knows. Too weak in his convictions. Too indulgent with Shen Qingqiu, too passive with Liu Qingge.
And now, in spite of that rough start, here Liu Qingge is, a scant few feet away, looking for Shen Qingqiu with him. Through the tightness in his chest and the gnawing worry in his stomach, there is a glimmer of happiness. He is so glad to have them both in his life. He needs to find Shen Qingqiu so they can be reunited once more.
If only…
No. He shakes his head vigorously. There is little point in thinking such thoughts now. Shen Qingqiu is happy with that Luo Binghe. Happier than Yue Qingyuan has seen him in years, maybe decades. And that is enough for him.
It has to be enough.
And yet.
He pushes the thoughts out of his head. Finding Shen Qingqiu is all that matters. He has no time for some melancholy thoughts.
Staring ahead, he sees Python’s Heart Plains fast approaching. Where the note directed Shen Qingqiu to go. The Qing Jing Peak Lord left in a hurry after reading that strange note. Where else could he have gone?
Just a bit more.
Let him not be too late this time.
Please, let Shen Qingqiu be safe.
He pushes faster.
Liu Qingge remains at his back, a steady, reassuring presence.
---
Python’s Heart Plains are empty of either Shen Qingqiu or his unknown opponent. There are no traces of any confrontation either. He and Liu Qingge do a quick investigation from the air, finally spotting an area where the grass has been disturbed.
Without a word, he and Liu Qingge land and split up to investigate the area more closely.
The grass is tall and thick, reaching well past their knees. Except in certain spots. Strange holes cluster in the ground where large numbers of small things seem to have burrowed their way up. Each hole is perhaps no more than a finger’s width but the sheer number is worrying. The dirt also seems freshly dug up around many of the burrows, though not in a pattern that indicates a confrontation.
There is no sign of Shen Qingqiu.
“No signs of fighting. Or of Shen Qingqiu.” Liu Qingge echoes his thoughts, walking back over to him.
“Ming-shizhi confirmed that Shen-shidi left the peak this morning, where could he have headed if not where the note indicated?” Yue Qingyuan’s grips Xuan Su tightly, resisting the urge to pace nervously.
“Some footsteps in the dirt and many thin drag marks over there.” Liu Qingge continues, gesturing toward their left, where he came from. “Lots of little burrows, but no signs of animals. No signs of any wildlife.”
“Footsteps? Near the burrows?” Yue Qingyuan quickly walks over to the area Liu Qingge pointed out, Liu Qingge following closely behind. “The lack of wildlife is concerning, especially in such a verdant area.” Yue Qingyuan ponders absent-mindedly, entirely fixated on the only hint of a person’s presence in the area.
“Something must have either devoured everything or scared everything off. Or both.” Liu Qingge states.
Something to investigate in greater detail at a later time, in all likelihood. Not their primary concern at this time, Yue Qingyuan thinks. Shen Qingqiu is the priority.
Yue Qingyuan turns his attention to the footsteps, little more than light scuff marks in the dirt, unrecognizable. Around them, dense clusters of these strange little burrows dot the grounds. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spots a long ribbon on the ground near one of the burrows. The familiar green of it renders it nearly invisible against the wild grass surrounding them.
He scoops it up gently, cradling it to his chest. Frantic, he scours the immediate area. There are no other signs of Shen Qingqiu’s presence. No blood, no bodies. He is torn between relief at there being no signs of outright harm and complete panic at the absence of any further signs of Shen Qingqiu.
Where is he?
The burrows. Are they related?
“Has Shidi ever seen such burrows in his travels?” He asks, tone carefully blank.
“No.”
“We must—”
Suddenly, the ground starts shaking violently beneath them, stringy white tendrils shooting out from the burrows around them.
Yue Qingyuan realizes with a start that they are entirely surrounded, having wandered to the heart of this strange infestation in their investigations. His hand tightens around the ribbon; his only clue as to Shen Qingqiu’s whereabouts. With a quick motion, he wraps it around his wrist
Without a word, Liu Qingge draws his sword in the blink of an eye and slashes viciously at the tendrils around them, trying to cut his way through. But more seem to spring from the ground even as Liu Qingge cuts them down, multiplying too fast for even the Bai Zhan War God to hold at bay. A thick wall of writhing tendrils slowly closing in on them.
“Shidi! Get down!” He calls out to Liu Qingge, drawing Xuan Su.
Immediately, he feels the familiar tug at the center of his chest, life force siphoning off into Xuan Su. With a wide swing, he carves through an entire swath of the tendrils, charging through without a second thought, trusting Liu Qingge to guard his back.
Together, they dash forward, hacking and slashing, but the wall of tendrils only gets denser and denser, closing in around and above them.
Soon, tendrils shoot toward them with unerring accuracy and a strange level of sapience, aiming to disarm or wrap themselves around their limbs. Yue Qingyuan tries to intercept them, but he can feel his energy draining at an alarming rate even as the tendrils only grow in number, more and more of them sprouting from the ground. There is nowhere to run, no path to escape. Who will look for Shen Qingqiu if they disappear?
Yue Qingyuan grits his teeth against the rising tide of frustrated panic. He touches the ribbon on his wrist lightly. This. This is all that matters.
“Shidi!” Yue Qingyuan calls out, gathering his energy for one large, final strike. “This one will create an opening, Shidi should escape when he gets the chance!”
Liu Qingge nods, immediately dashing in the direction Yue Qingyuan is facing. Just as Yue Qingyuan loosens his qi in a single concentrated strike, Liu Qingge jumps forward and through the newly created hole.
Good, Yue Qingyuan thinks as he collapses to his knees, Liu Qingge will have made it at least. Liu Qingge will be able to continue the search for Shen Qingqiu. Only habit has him quickly sheathing his sword before he can hit the ground, interrupting the constant drain on his life force.
Sensing his sudden weakness, as he had hoped, the tendrils turn their attention in his direction, wrapping themselves tightly around him. Much too tired to fight, he goes limp in their hold. Liu Qingge will find Shen Qingqiu, Yue Qingyuan thinks to himself. He can trust Liu Qingge with Shen Qingqiu’s safety.
Please, gods above, he hopes Shen Qingqiu escaped this strange creature safely.
“Yue Qingyuan!” The sudden cry has him raising his head. Silhouetted against the bright sky, Liu Qingge is flying back in his direction, swerving erratically to dodge the tendrils shooting upward in his direction.
“Shidi!” A sudden burst of anxious energy has him tugging against his bonds, which tighten in response. He gasps, struggling to breathe through the constraints. “Leave! Please! Please find Shen Qingqiu!” He tries to yell, but he cannot find the air to raise his voice.
There are too many of these strange tendrils. Even Liu Qingge, as adept on his sword as he is, will not be able to evade them for much longer.
“Shidi, return to Cang Qiong!” He tries again, frantic and tugging more and more desperately against the bonds, hoping against all hope that Liu Qingge will listen to his orders, just this once.
The bonds tighten once more, crushing his chest in their grasp.
He gasps at the sudden pain, breaths coming quick and shallow.
The tendrils respond to his struggles, he realizes, holding as still as he can.
In the air, Liu Qingge weaves around the tendrils, doing his best to reach Yue Qingyuan. Ignoring his orders, as expected. Inevitably, a single tendril succeeds in wrapping itself around Cheng Luan, tangling more and more around the War God and dragging him down into the mass of them, even as tries to wrench them apart bare-handed. Tendrils attach themselves to flailing limbs, wrapping around Liu Qingge’s body. Soon, Liu Qingge finds himself entirely cocooned in the mass of tendrils.
“Stop struggling Shidi! The tendrils—” Yue Qingyuan calls out in warning.
Too late.
He can just barely see Liu Qingge’s throat desperately convulsing for breath that won’t come; tendrils wrapped around his chest with enough strength to crush metal. Liu Qingge’s strong physical cultivation is likely the only thing keeping him in one piece. But he will not last long if he remains unable to breathe.
Yue Qingyuan looks around desperately, trying to keep as still as possible. If Shen Qingqiu came here earlier and escaped – and Yue Qingyuan refuses to explore any other possibility – then there must be a way out. No creature is undefeatable; as the one who overpowered Tianlang-jun, Yue Qingyuan should know.
Force, however, is not the answer here. Dual cultivation seems unlikely as well – creatures of that ilk tend to have an… unusually arousing effect. Probing around, Yue Qingyuan tries feeding the plant some qi, but their hold only tightens further in response.
Fuck. What he wouldn’t give to have Shen Qingqiu’s advice, here and now. His vast knowledge of the creatures that populate the world.
He glances at Liu Qingge, trembling with the effort to remain still. Too late, Yue Qingyuan can tell. He doesn’t have long before his shidi suffocates.
Think. Identifying features. There must be some sort of identifying features Yue Qingyuan can use.
He looks around. The tendrils encircling him are soft and streaky; like hundreds or thousands of threads wrapped around each other many times over to form a whole. Bright white in color. Unlike any plant or creature he has ever seen. No other part of the creature is visible, so this information is very unhelpful to him in this moment.
Another quick glance at Liu Qingge tells him that he is running low on time, the man’s face flushed a deep red and his eyes going hazy.
What else? What else do they know?
The note! The note Shen Qingqiu received that morning! What did the note say? It had, very obliquely, threatened Shen Qingqiu with some truth.
I know what you are.
What if… Maybe this threat wasn’t based on anything this unknown sender knew? Could this creature be, in some way, related to revelations?
It clearly does not compel the truth, but what if…?
His heart pounds at the thought of revealing any of the truths he keeps buried deep. But one look at Liu Qingge limp form and he knows he does not have the time to reject this possibility. What other information do they have? He is out of time. If this does not work… he doesn’t know what else to try.
Something shameful, yet, ultimately, harmless.
“This one… I greatly envy Luo Binghe for having won Shen-shidi’s heart!” He confesses in a rush. As if, if he says it fast enough, it might dissipate into the air, never to see the light of day again. “I wish I could have been the one to stand by his side.”
He feels the truth leave with a small burst of qi that is quickly absorbed into the tendrils wrapped around his body. With a small spasm, the tendrils loosen slightly. Not enough to slip out of their grip, but enough for him to take a deeper breath. The ribbon feels like a brand around his wrist; a witness to his confession.
At his side, Liu Qingge lays motionless, but conscious. Yue Qingyuan can see his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Liu Qingge stares back at Yue Qingyuan, tense, but clearly taking his advice to remain unmoving.
“Liu-shidi, the creature seems to loosen its hold with secrets. It seems that my, um, revelation,” he can feel his face flushing at the thought, “was insufficient to release us.”
The look Liu Qingge shoots him is full of a scorn he usually only sees on Shen Qingqiu’s face. One that all but proclaims him to be an idiot.
“A secret?” Liu Qingge shakes his head slightly, exasperation tinting his words. “Yue Qingyuan, everyone knows.”
Yue Qingyuan gives a nervous laugh in response, resisting the urge to try and cover his face with his restrained hands.
“Surely not, Shidi?” He asks hopefully.
“Not Shen Qingqiu.” Small mercies, truly. “But everyone else.”
Yue Qingyuan closes his eyes, trying to banish the knowledge that everyone is aware how big of a fool he is, to want a man he has long lost.
“Shidi, please…” He isn’t sure what he is asking for, but Liu Qingge seems to get some idea.
“Hm.” Liu Qingge turns red and flustered as well, looking away as he mumbles his own confession. “Shen Qingqiu should not have married that unfilial disciple of his.”
“Shidi?” Yue Qingyuan opens his eyes to stare questioningly at Liu Qingge.
“I mean…” Liu Qingge turns brighter, steely grey eyes and dark beauty mark standing in sharp contrast against his pale, flushed skin. “Shen Qingqiu should have… I—I would have…”
Ah. Yue Qingyuan smiles. Liu Qingge truly is a good, reliable shidi. He could have revealed anything and yet…
“It’s alright, Shidi. This Shixiong knows. There is no need to force yourself through this confession since we have already determined that widely known secrets are insufficient.”
If anything, Liu Qingge’s blush only deepens and he ducks his head to try to hide his face.
Seeing him like this is quite endearing, Yue Qingyuan thinks to himself. Not that he would ever dare say such a thing to the Bai Zhan War God’s face.
In any case, this is not the time for such thoughts. Revelations are needed, it seems. Secrets.
“Hm,” Yue Qingyuan hums under his breath, “well, when Shizun took me in, I… did not yet know how to read and write.” He admits, sheepish. It is not quite uncommon for Cang Qiong disciples, but he had nevertheless been ashamed at the time.
Liu Qingge nods in understanding. “Shixiong worked hard to get to where he is now.”
Unfortunately, the creature is not quite so understanding; its hold remains as tight as ever.
“My mother had me wear a veil like Mingyan’s when I left home.” Liu Qingge frowns, distaste carved in every line of his face. Yue Qingyuan can picture the direction this particular revelation is taking. “I tore it off as soon as I got to Cang Qiong. It got in the way.”
Yue Qingyuan chuckles. As expected of Liu-shidi.
They go back and forth for a while, trading light-hearted confessions. The mood is lighter, in spite of their situation. Worry still gnaws at his stomach but he is confident that Shen Qingqiu would have figure out the solution must faster than Yue Qingyuan himself did. He must have. Why else would the ribbon be the only trace of his presence?
The thought is not as reassuring as he would like, but it keeps him afloat.
The tendrils, however, remain unmoving. With every failed attempt, Yue Qingyuan’s heart sinks a bit more.
Could it be… Are deeper revelations needed?
His chest tightens; he has kept so many secrets buried deep for so long. Shen Qingqiu has heard his confessions and that is enough for him. Whether Shen Qingqiu grants him absolution from his guilt or not, Yue Qingyuan has exposed his heart. Is he really to tear his chest open once more, all to satisfy some creature’s twisted needs? Would Liu Qingge’s opinion of him change? An honorable man like him, what would he think of the promise Yue Qingyuan broke?
But what else can he do?
Liu Qingge finishes telling a story of his sister breaking a priceless vase from some long-gone dynasty or other and taking the blame for her with his terrible inability to lie. His mother had known the truth; he is certain now. It had been his first and only lie and he has never told anyone.
The creature does not react.
In this unofficial trade of theirs, it is now Yue Qingyuan’s turn, once more.
“I…”
The words catch in his throat.
Where to start? Of his long list of failures, which should he confess to first? Will he lose Liu Qingge’s unwavering support if he confesses?
“I… grew up a slave.” He whispers into the space between them.
A violent burst of energy, quickly absorbed by the creature.
He barely notices as he barrels on, the words falling from his lips in a wild torrent. A weight lifted from his chest.
“Shen Qingqiu and I grew up together. I escaped, left him behind. I promised to return for him and I broke that promise.”
Energy swirls around him, rapidly draining into the creature. The bonds keeping him trapped loosen, yet he remains. Unmoving. Unseeing.
“Yue Qingyuan—”
He barely hears Liu Qingge’s interjection, continuing his stilted confession.
“I trained and I trained. For years. All so I could be granted my sword and finally return for Xiao Jiu. I was too reckless. Pulled the wrong sword.” He laughs, humorlessly, shaking his head. “Xuan Su. One of the most powerful swords in the cultivation world. Hah! What use was it? What was the point, when it kept me trapped in those damned caves, unable to reach Xiao Jiu!” A surge of anger. “Why did I—Why did I pick Xuan Su? If I had only… Xiao Jiu—I could have saved Xiao Jiu. I could have kept my word! And maybe—maybe Xiao Jiu would have—”
He chokes on the words that want to escape him. What a horrible thing to think. What a horrible thing to hope for, in the midst of confessing his sins, when even Shen Qingqiu’s forgiveness should have been too much to ask for. What are his wants, against the sum of his sins?
“—maybe he would have chosen me.” He murmurs. Tears flow down his cheeks as he utters this final confession. A secret buried so deep, Yue Qingyuan himself had scarcely been aware he had kept it.
“Maybe Xiao Jiu would have been mine.” He repeats the revelation like a mantra, again and again, lost and unmoored.
He takes a staggering step backward, belatedly realizing how sluggish the tendrils trying to grab onto him are. They slither around and over him with an almost drunken sway, twitching here and there.
Yue Qingyuan steps back farther, out of reach of the tendrils slowly crawling after him, a stark contrast to the earlier frenzied chase.
Liu Qingge. He needs to focus on Liu Qingge, right now.
He tries shaking himself out of his stupor, stumbling over to Liu Qingge’s side on unsteady legs. Liu Qingge stares at him with an indefinable look in his eyes. Yue Qingyuan looks away, gaze focusing on the tendrils still wrapped around Liu Qingge. He does not want to know what judgment those eyes contain.
“Yue Qingyuan—”
He cuts Liu Qingge off, not prepared to listen to whatever condemnation the righteous Bai Zhan War God might visit upon him.
“Is Shidi able to escape his bonds now?”
“…No.”
“…Apologies Shidi, this one—I don’t think…” ‘I can do this’ Yue Qingyuan tries to say, eyes still fixed on the tendrils rather than on Liu Qingge’s face. “Shidi, can you…”
Liu Qingge’s face twists with discomfort, but he gives a terse nod. Yue Qingyuan can see his fists clenching and unclenching through the tendrils wrapped around his body.
Yue Qingyuan looks down at his own hands and suddenly realizes that, having been freed, he can give his ever-reliable Shidi some courtesy and not listen to his confessions. Allow him the privacy he deserves.
The privacy Yue Qingyuan himself would have hoped for.
He raises his hands and places them against his ears—
A sharp shake of Liu Qingge’s head.
“No. Listen.” Liu Qingge grits out. “Please.”
Yue Qingyuan drops his hands to his sides and drags his eyes up to stare straight into Liu Qingge’s clear, straight-forward gaze. If the Bai Zhan Peak Lord wants him to listen, he owes him his full attention.
“I was courting you. When we were disciples.” Liu Qingge blurts out, face a bright red. “You didn’t realize. You were grieving. And hurt. So, I stopped.”
Brain sluggish and foggy, it takes Yue Qingyuan a few moments to latch onto the meaning of this confession.
(Neither of them notice the tendrils slowly loosening around Liu Qingge.)
“You… were courting me?” Yue Qingyuan echoes, tone incredulous.
Liu Qingge nods, face still tense. “Then, you came back with Shen Qingqiu. You were happy.” His frown deepens, a regretful look on his face. “I was… angry. Shen Qingqiu seemed unworthy of your attention. A shameful man. I hated him. Focused on his flaws and failures. Wanted to prove to you that he was unworthy.”
“Shidi, you—”
Liu Qingge cuts him off, pushing forward with his confession.
“I hated Shen Qingqiu for taking advantage of your kindness.” He says, stepping out of the loosely wrapped tendrils.
“He didn’t! Xiao Jiu—Shen Qingqiu could never—” Yue Qingyuan sputters, taking a step back. “I owed him everything!” He insists. “Everything and so much more…”
Liu Qingge crosses his arms in front of him with a deep scowl.
“I was wrong.” He declares.
“Shidi…”
“I should have known better.” He adds, looking away. “Shouldn’t have assumed.”
They stand in silence for a few moments, surroundings all but forgotten.
“Whatever you owe him,” Liu Qingge says, arms still crossed, still staring somewhere to the side, “you’ve repaid it.”
“Shidi?”
“Whatever happened between you and Shen Qingqiu.” He seems to gather himself and turns sharp eyes in Yue Qingyuan’s direction. “You made a mistake. You’ve since repaid him. Forget it.”
Indignation fills Yue Qingyuan. How could anything he does ever repay Xiao Jiu for the harm he’s caused? How could he ever forget such an important failure?
“No.” He shakes his head vigorously, taking a step forward. “No, this one can’t—”
“Yue Qingyuan!”
Liu Qingge suddenly shoves him to the side. Out of instinct, Yue Qingyuan’s hand closes around Xuan Su’s hilt. Until he notices the tendril slowly reaching for his leg.
Shit, they aren’t safe yet. How could he have forgotten?
The creature is much slower than previously, almost sluggish in the aftermath of their confessions. But it is still stubborn in its intent of re-capturing them.
It is slow enough, however, that this time, when they fly off on their swords, it is much too slow to come after them.
In the air, Yue Qingyuan shows Liu Qingge the ribbon he had found earlier. Shen Qingqiu must have been here and returned before they even arrived. By mutual agreement, they head back to the peaks. Shen Qingqiu will be on Qing Jing Peak, Yue Qingyuan convinces himself. And if not, they can return to the Plains with the full force of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect behind them. They will find Shen Qingqiu even if they have to tear these Plains apart.
---
Thankfully, when they land on Qing Jing Peak, Ming Fan announces that Shen Qingqiu had returned some time ago, Luo Binghe in tow, and seemed well, if tired. He had stated that he wanted no visitors for the rest of the day and to send his apologies to Liu Qingge for missing their scheduled night hunt.
Apparently, on the way to the bamboo house, Shen Qingqiu had been lecturing his husband about the differences between mushrooms and plants and how the mushroom in question could be identified by its highly recognizable bright white hyphae.
Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge wisely decide that, perhaps, it would be better to respect Shen Qingqiu’s wishes and return to visit another day, when his mood might be better.
Deep within himself, Yue Qingyuan wants nothing more than to see Shen Qingqiu regardless of his mood, regardless of his wishes. To verify that the man really is alright and not concealing some form of injury, as he is wont to do. But he knows it is not his place. Not anymore. A long time ago, perhaps. When they were children and before he had ruined things between them. Now, Shen Qingqiu has a husband at his side. No matter how Yue Qingyuan himself might disdain Luo Binghe, he cannot deny the care the man has for his husband.
He and Liu Qingge leave Qing Jing Peak.
---
They end up in Yue Qingyuan’s office, where everything started that very morning.
It hits Yue Qingyuan, suddenly. The knowledge that someone else knows about him now. Knows about his background, about his mistakes and his failures.
And yet, Liu Qingge had said…
“Does Liu-shidi truly think I have done enough to repay Shen-shidi?” Yue Qingyuan keeps his eyes locked onto the ink-smeared letters on his desk; useless platitudes wrapped in flowery words. Unerringly, his eyes drift toward the pale green ribbon, still wrapped tight around his wrist.
Liu Qingge does not know the full truth; can he really make such a judgment? “When we were children, Shen Qingqiu succeeded in developing his own cultivation techniques. He had such potential. And it was my failures that destroyed that potential. Is it even possible to repay such a thing?”
“Did Shen Qingqiu place the blame on your shoulders, Yue Qingyuan? Or did you?”
Yue Qingyuan meets Liu Qingge’s impassive gaze. There is none of the judgment he feared. There is none of the condemnation he sought. Yet there is an inescapably clear understanding in those eyes.
“Who are you truly repaying?” Liu Qingge continues. A sharp, decisive strike to the center of Yue Qingyuan’s self-blame.
Because that is the truth of it, isn’t it? For years, he sought only to assuage his own guilt. Shen Qingqiu… Even before Shen Qingqiu had lost his memory of their shared past, Shen Qingqiu had never asked for repayment. Only for answers. So, who was he repaying, really? Was it all solely for his own benefit?
“I wanted… absolution.” A realization, spoken into the world. And how obvious it is, now that he has said it. “I thought, maybe, if I did more. If I did enough, it might erase my mistake. But it was never enough. It never felt like enough.” He closes his eyes tight, fists clenched where he leans against his desk. “And now, he remembers nothing, but he is happy. Wedded in bliss, as they say. But… none of it was my doing. What place do I hold in his life? After everything…”
A hand pats his back with enough force to be uncomfortable and Yue Qingyuan looks up with a start to find Liu Qingge at his side, grimacing and tense. Without a word, Liu Qingge pats his back again, motions stiff and awkward.
Despite himself, a soft chuckle erupts from Yue Qingyuan. Truly, Liu-shidi is the most reliable. How can he push these issues onto Liu Qingge’s shoulders?
He shoves his spiraling thoughts away and takes a deep breath, gathering himself. The very picture of sect leader, a light genial smile firmly fixed on his face.
“Shidi need not force himself. This one greatly appreciates Shidi’s advice.” Liu Qingge throws him a doubtful look, but takes a step back, giving him space. “This one will be alright. Shidi should—”
“Yue Qingyuan.” Liu Qingge interrupts. Yue Qingyuan freezes, struggling to keep the smile in place. “Don’t hide. I…” Liu Qingge trails off, face flushing suddenly, throat convulsing around words that refuse to come out. “…am here.” He finishes, glaring at the floor as if it has somehow offended him.
A pit opens in Yue Qingyuan’s stomach. “…I know.” He whispers softly. “I know.” He repeats with more conviction. The ribbon weighs him down; a self-imposed reminder of all that ties him to his past. “Liu-shidi is always there when I need him. Ever reliable. Ever present. An anchor in the storm.”
With every declaration, Liu Qingge’s face turns brighter and brighter. It seems as if he might burn a hole straight through the floor, with the force of his glare.
A mean little part of him that sounds just like Xiao Jiu points out how amusing it is just how the Bai Zhan War God blushes at the slightest word of appreciation. How easy it might be to beat him in a fight with that knowledge, if wielded correctly.
Yue Qingyuan waves the thought away, but Xiao Jiu remains. A constant presence haunting his every move. As he always does. Yue Qingyuan places a hand over the ribbon, soft and wistful.
His smile drops. “Shidi… I care for you deeply. But,” his throat feels dry and he tries to swallow around the sudden tightness, “Shen Qingqiu will always occupy a place within my heart. I don’t know if I can ever… I don’t know if I want to ever move past what we had.”
Liu Qingge only nods, still glaring at the floor.
“I… also. Still want.” Liu Qingge grits out.
Yue Qingyuan thinks back to their shared disciple days. To Liu Qingge’s constant presence and support. To the courtship he had never noticed, so lost in thoughts of Xiao Jiu as he was.
Truly, Liu Qingge has been at his side for so long.
“Then,” Yue Qingyuan steps forward, hand extended, mind made, “perhaps Liu Qingge will allow this one to accept his courtship proposal. If a bit late.”
He waits. Patient. Ready to accept whatever Liu Qingge’s response will be.
Liu Qingge’s hand shoots out to grab his, tugging him forward suddenly and meeting him halfway in a quick kiss.
It’s little more than a bump of their lips before they part.
Liu Qingge, still bright red, still glaring into the distance, holds Yue Qingyuan’s hand softly. Yue Qingyuan smiles at him.
“I am glad.” Yue Qingyuan whispers, dragging Liu Qingge in for another, deeper kiss.
Liu Qingge goes, unresisting. Tense, but willing.
His ever-reliable Liu-shidi.