Chapter Text
Qiu Jianluo had a guest over.
A guest who invited himself in, who could not be refused - for who would dare refuse the War Beast of Cang Qiong? - and who proceeded to monopolize Qiu Jianluo's time rather thoroughly.
Shen Jiu didn't plan on interacting with the guest. The way the War Beast looked him up and down, as if cataloguing every inch of him… Well. He didn't appreciate that.
He only came close to the man once, when passing him by on a corridor, engrossed in one of the paintings.
(One which Qiu Jianluo believed to be painted by Qiu Haitang on an outing; Little did he know that she spent her time napping while Shen Jiu did the work.)
“I plan on keeping the Young Master busy all night," he said, almost absently. “If anyone were to utilize it to, say, start making his way out…”
Shen Jiu, knowing better than to play these games, pretended he heard nothing.
But the words wouldn't leave him.
It was likely a trap. Who would have been kind enough to offer such an opportunity to a simple slave? It was more likely that the War Beast simply wished for some excitement and set up his own hunt.
As the night passed, though, and the manor was kept occupied, Qiu Jianluo restrained by the trappings of hospitality and the servants run ragged, confused with the constant contradictory orders…
Shen Jiu decided the potential reward of his freedom was more than worth the risk.
***
Slipping out had been easy. No one had noticed him go or, if they had, they didn't have the time to wonder about it.
It had been much harder to decide to leave than to actually leave. It felt like a betrayal, like Shen Jiu didn't trust Qi-ge to come back for him. But it's been a year already, and Qiu Jianluo was steadily growing worse, and-
Qi-ge would understand.
These maudlin thoughts accompanied Shen Jiu as he walked away briskly, trying to get as far as he possibly could. At dawn, he hid in a hollow tree to catch a few hours of sleep before continuing to walk.
No search party came after him.
Once he made it to Cang Qiong, he'd be completely safe. He just needed to-
“Wow, kiddo. You're really hauling ass!"
Shen Jiu yelped, startling away from the voice and nearly falling down a steep slope beside the path, if it hadn't been for a hand grasping his forearm, helping him stay upright.
The grasp did not prevent him from taking his arm back once he was stable again.
It was the War Beast. So Shen Jiu had been right, it was just a ruse-
But the man seemed to be alone, none of the Qiu servants near.
“Well? Don't stop on my account.” The man started to walk down the path, passing by Shen Jiu. “You don't mind if I tag along, right? We happen to have the same destination, I believe."
…Well then.
***
Travelling with the War Beast was… odd. The man didn't seem to mind sleeping nestled between the roots of any random tree, but just as often he'd pay for rooms in an inn.
Shen Jiu had to give up on trying to run away while he was sleeping, though, because the man would always follow after him shortly after, slightly cranky from the lack of sleep.
The more he talked - because the War Beast was always talking - the more it all started making sense.
“We have an acquaintance in common, you know?" the Beast said once, a string of words that caught Shen Jiu's interest amongst a sea of meaningless chatter.
He narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “What's his name?"
The beast grinned - clearly happy at finally managing to get Shen Jiu to contribute - before tilting his head in consideration. “Well, he's a head disciple now, so Yue Qingyuan.”
…So he made a head disciple. Good. That was… Good.
“You're his shizun, then?"
“Nah," the Beast waved his hand dismissively. “Just his shishu."
My shizun, then, popped into Shen Jiu's head uninvited. To distance himself from that unpleasant thought- “So you're the War Beast…?”
“Yep!"
The silence stretched as Shen Jiu waited for the answer he wanted to receive. Finally, the Beast got a clue.
“Oh! My name; It's Luo Báichì."
Shen Jiu squinted at him, incredulous. “Báichī?” Did his shizun hate him, to give such a courtesy name?
“Hungry? Sure, I'll whip something up!"
Unfortunately, he was an amazing cook.
***
It was starting to feel like the Beast was treating the journey like a leisure trip.
Shen Jiu stared incredulously between the bladed shoes in his grip and the frozen lake behind him.
“Live a little!” the Beast cajoled. “You know I won't let anything happen to you, A-Jiu."
Shen Jiu had never given the Beast his name, but the man knew it anyway. Be it through Qi-ge or Qiu Jianluo, he used that knowledge freely.
“Fine," he spat, grabbing the shoes. “But you owe me tanghulu for this.”
“Once we get to the other side, sure!"
It was difficult to keep his balance in those shoes, and it only got harder while on ice. As much as Shen Jiu hated relying on anyone, he was forced to hold on to the Beast’s arm in order not to fall.
But with every passing moment, he got more confident, until he skated alongside the Beast. Maybe this wasn't so difficult-
That's exactly when he twisted the wrong way, falling backwards. He landed on his ass, hard, but it was fine. He survived worse.
But when he scrambled to his feet-
His vision whited out. The Beast was saying something, but Shen Jiu couldn't understand it, hearing the words as if he was underwater.
It was hard to stay up. Shen Jiu made a noise of protest when the Beast moved his arm, but it was just to scoop him up, skating swiftly towards the edge.
He felt safe in his hold.
***
It had been frightfully easy to get used to their dynamic. Luo Baichi kept Shen Jiu safe and fed - two of the most important things in life - and, while his constant chattering was kind of annoying, the man didn't shy away from teaching Shen Jiu anything he expressed interest in.
Or, if it was something outside of the Beast’s skillset, he would find someone who knew more. Which, in the case of most of the arts, meant courtesans.
“My mother was a courtesan," he would explain while Shen Jiu slowly butchered a melody on a guzheng. “I grew up in the Warm Red Pavilion; It's at the foot of Cang Qiong, we can visit once we get there."
Shen Jiu said nothing, plucking away at the strings. The silence was companionable, so he wasn't in a hurry to break it.
He had always thought that immortal masters were those ethereal beings, who came into the world already perfect. But if a brothel brat could make it all the way to a Peak Lord, unashamed to admit it so easily… Why shouldn't a slave be able to do the same?
“How do you like the guzheng?"
Shen Jiu hummed. “I think I like the pipa better," he said. “But it's nice, too."
The Beast nodded. “You'll do well on Qing Jing, then. It focuses on strategy and four arts."
Yes, Shen Jiu could see himself fitting there.
Crucially, he didn't ask whether Luo Baichi was the Peak Lord of Qing Jing.
***
They spent the last night of their journey at the Warm Red Pavilion, pampered almost to death by the jiejies the Beast grew up with.
A promise was extracted to ensure that Shen Jiu would come visit them again sometime and, soon enough, they stood at the start of the longest stairs in existence.
“Second longest, technically," the Beast said as he began to climb. “Qiong Ding is taller.”
“And I suppose you can't use your sword to get through this, either…?"
“It's good exercise! Don't wimp out now, A-Jiu!"
And so they climbed up.
At least the view was nice. So much greenery, such healthy bamboos; Shen Jiu could get used to living there.
“You'll get the full tour later, but first," the Beast grinned as he grasped the doors to the Peak Lord's residence. “You must get accepted as a disciple by your shizun."
Shen Jiu hadn't even realized how strong his hopes had gotten; Not until he saw another person inside.
A woman, working at a desk, dressed in the regalia befitting a Peak Lord. Ones which fit the colour scheme of Qing Jing much better than the Beast's did, no matter how much Shen Jiu tried to delude himself with a “travel clothes" excuse.
Luo Baichi was abandoning him.
Foisting him off onto another peak, into the care of another Peak Lord. Why? Hadn't Shen Jiu proved he would be a good disciple? Had those weeks spent together meant nothing?
“Very well," the woman said, breaking through Shen Jiu's spiral. “But if he doesn't live up to your description, I will not hesitate to expel him."
“Have I ever led you astray, An-shijie?" The Beast chuckled, patting Shen Jiu's shoulder. He didn't seem to notice anything wrong with his expression. And why should he? He clearly didn't care. “Do your best, yeah, A-Jiu?"
He didn't respond, even as the Beast left.
And as he kneeled on the floor, tea dripping down his head, newly made a disciple of Qing Jing, he wondered why he had ever thought the Beast would stay.
No one else ever did.