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Shen Qingqiu was standing next to a table which had an extravagant spread of food across its surface. He watched with an indifferent expression hidden behind his fan as the people around him talked about nothing of importance. They were currently waiting like hawks for the main event of this stupid Winter Solstice Celebration to begin.
He did not want to be at this party. In fact, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t think of anywhere he wanted to be less than at this very party. A party that was supposed to symbolize the good relation between the Great Sects, to reinforce their strong bond to any onlookers and their commitment to uphold it.
Grabbing his third egg roll of the night, Shen Qingqiu was fuming once again about the series of events that had brought him here. Fucking brute! Of all the mornings to start a fight, Liu Qingge couldn’t have chosen a worse one. Shen Qingqiu could have gotten the arts, for heaven’s sake! But no, of course Qi Qingqi had already snatched up next year’s Immortal Arts Exhibition and Mu Qingfang had taken on the Cultivator’s Science Exchange Convention by the time that Shen Qingqiu arrived, already winded and irritated because of his most brutish shidi. Gods forbid Shen Qingqiu got one of the decent events–or at least was able to sit out this stupid worst one–but luck hated him even more than Liu Qingge did.
The brute was currently at the other side of the room, talking to his sister. It grated Shen Qingqiu’s nerves that they seemed to have a good time when this was all his fault! All the pain and pressure of the last months Shen Qingqiu had to endure, staying up late with nightmares that only grew night after night, and for what? For someone like Liu Qingge to have a good time while he, who had done the actual work, wanted no part in this farce of a celebration?
Taking a bite out of his egg roll, Shen Qingqiu closed his eyes for just a moment to savour the taste. At the very least him being the one responsible to plan out everything included him being responsible for picking the food of the night. And who could stop him from filling the tables with all his favourites?
Shen Qingqiu picked a rice cake from the spread and sidestepped to let Ning Yingying near the table, watching her take one of the cookies Shen Qingqiu had commissioned from his favourite bakery, that one in the shape of a snake with Qing Jing green frosting decorating it.
Shen Qingqiu liked how those in particular had turned out. Ning Yingying, judging by the joyous smile on her face as she admired the cookie, had impeccable taste and knew how to appreciate its quality. It was almost enough to make Shen Qingqiu’s lips twitch into a smile.
Before Ning Yingying could say anything, Shen Qingqiu had to step aside even further as Wu Chen reached between them for the generous selection of fruit on the table, breaking the small moment of reprieve.
Shen Qingqiu turned away, the overpowering desire for the event to end once again filling him.
Soon. It would be over soon. The traditional exchange of gifts between the disciples of the Great Sects was about to start, then the one between the masters would follow and then Shen Qingqiu could finally slip out. His gaze wandered towards the center of the room where Yue Qingyuan was talking to the Old Palace Master, Wu Wang standing between them as he listened to them with more attention than they probably deserved as they talked about some useless nonsense.
Well, it could have been worse, Shen Qingqiu supposed, eating the last bite of his rice cake. Shen Qingqiu could have gotten stuck having to prepare a gift for that old coot! He shuddered just thinking about it. And yet, his stomach kept churning every time his hand even so much as touched the qiankun pouch on his side.
Shen Qingqiu knew it was stupid. He should have just gotten Yue Qingyuan a nice brush or given him some impersonal painting. That would have already been more than that fool deserved and enough to fulfill the requirements of this whole sham of a gift exchange. But no, some part of Shen Qingqiu had insisted he take this seriously. If Shen Qingqiu had to give a gift, he would do it right.
Still, that did not stop his heart from beating just the slightest bit faster than it should as he thought of Yue Qingyuan. (That traitor.) He took one of the glasses holding the sweet plum wine Zui Xian had provided from the next table over and sipped at it, just enough to take the edge off of his nerves but not enough to impede his perception. Shen Qingqiu could not let down his guard. Not right now. Not while surrounded by people that would take advantage of any sign of weakness.
A gong coming from the far side of the room sounded, announcing the beginning of the main event–the traditional gift exchange–and throwing the room into silence. An expectant kind of excitement charged the air as everyone’s attention turned towards the center of the room where the Tian Yi Overlook sect leader hastened to join the other sect leaders to project a unified front.
While Cang Qiong were the ones to host these festivities this cycle, it was tradition that the disciple’s gift exchange was opened by the highest ranking disciple of the sect that won the previous year’s Immortal Alliance Conference, honoring the next generation of cultivators.
The conference had been a rather weak showing for Cang Qiong, the timing of the flu that had knocked out over half the disciples could not have been worse.
Shen Qingqiu had not cared in the slightest at the time, but now, watching the self-satisfied smirk on the Old Palace Master’s face, he very much regretted not sending Ming Fan to compete and letting some no name Huan Hua brat take the win and bragging rights for the next four years.
“As Huan Hua Palace has proven its standing last year, this zhangmen asks Lao Gongzhu to officially open the disciple’s exchanging of gifts of this year’s Winter Solstice Celebration,” Yue Qingyuan declared calmly. The Old Palace Master smiled smugly in response and gods did Shen Qingqiu want to walk over and smack the expression off his face.
“Of course, thanking Yue-zhangmen for the honour.” The Old Palace Master gave a barely there nod that showed none of the respect he owed to his fellow sect leader before turning away. “Gongyi Xiao,” he called out as he magnanimously looked around for his head disciple.
The boy hastened over towards the Old Palace Master’s side and bowed before the sect leaders. “Shizun.”
“None of that, A-Xiao,” the Old Palace Master said as he pulled Gongyi Xiao back up. Shen Qingqiu narrowed his eyes at the way he left his hands on Gongyi Xiao’s shoulder a few moments longer than would be appropriate. At the way the boy took it as if it was a normal occurrence.
This was very much none of Shen Qingqiu’s business.
However, seeing the Old Palace Master’s lingering gaze on Gongyi Xiao made Shen Qingqiu’s teeth clench. His focus was so consumed by that disgusting Old Palace Master that it took him a moment to process what name Gongyi Xiao had called out. When he did, Shen Qingqiu’s gaze shot to the other side of the room where he had last seen his own disciples huddle together.
“Ming Fan of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.”
Ming Fan nearly jumped out of his skin at being put into the spotlight so suddenly, and Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but feel a drop of pity for him for getting such an uneven match. His disciple was an excellent student with fine looks and a decent enough head disciple, but standing next to Gongyi Xiao, Ming Fan seemed plain with no hope to compare to someone as warm and regal as the Huan Hua head disciple. Yet in spite of what people would say, Ming Fan seemed sincerely excited to be receiving his gift from Gongyi Xiao, whether out of stupidity or ignorance over the situation.
Either way, seeing how uneven the match was and hearing the whispers of the people around them only reinforced Shen Qingqiu’s decision to avoid future Winter Solstice Celebrations as he had been up until this one. Clearly nothing good could come out of this. The night was already off to an irritating start, but as the event organizer, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t leave. Not yet, at least.
Shen Qingqiu’s lips pressed together into a fine line as Ming Fan accepted his gift from Gongyi Xiao–a beautifully made set of carvings. Ming Fan took way too long to admire them before he realized that he was making everyone wait and forcefully turned his attention to the room. “Liu Mingyan,” he ca
Grabbing a plate of the snake shaped cookies, Shen Qingqiu withdrew into a corner to wait out the rest of the disciple gift exchange. He bit into one of the cookies and a fresh, minty taste filled his mouth, perfectly coordinated to compliment the sweetness of the cookie. Once this was over, Shen Qingqiu had to remember to send his compliments to the bakery’s owner, she had truly done an excellent job.
Despite that momentary delicious reprieve, Shen Qingqiu could not wait for the day to end already. But with how many disciples were present and participating in the exchange of gifts, it would still be far too long before the masters would even be able to begin presenting their own gifts to each other.
While more and more disciples presented their gifts to one another, the attention of the crowd started to falter as people whispered amongst themselves about the gifts they received or the ones they saw others get.
Shen Qingqiu estimated that about half the exchanges had passed by the time he felt a familiar presence step up beside him.
“Is Shen-shidi enjoying himself?”
It was Yue Qingyuan.
The glare Shen Qingqiu threw Yue Qingyuan’s way made his thoughts on that question clear, and yet Yue Qingyuan either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “It doesn’t matter. The festivities have been proceeding without issue, that’s all Zhanmeng-shixiong needs to know.” The words had a tone of finality to them, making it clear that Shen Qingqiu had no interest in continuing this conversation any further. However, as usual, Yue Qingyuan appeared to not pick up on Shen Qingqiu’s tone.
Yue Qingyuan stepped closer, right on the edge of what Shen Qingqiu would consider too close if it were anyone else. It still was, but it was Yue Qingyuan and a little traitorous part of Shen Qingqiu–the Xiao Jiu part that refused to die–still recognized the comforting rhythm of his breathing next to him. The way Yue Qingyuan instinctively stood to his left, as if he was still covering what used to be Shen Qingqiu’s weak spots. The small movements Yue Qingqiuan would make that complemented Shen Qingqiu’s own. “Shen-shidi did indeed do an exceptional job organizing these festivities.”
Of course he did. To organize the event poorly would be inexcusable. “If Zhanmeng-shixiong is implying he expected anything less, he shouldn’t have permitted this shidi to take on the responsibility of overseeing the preparations,” he quipped, doing nothing to hide the sharpness of his tone.
Yue Qingyuan shifted even closer. “Of course there couldn’t have been anyone more suitable for this task. This zhangmen never had any doubt in shidi.”
That was a blatant lie. There was a reason An Ding were usually the ones to organize the Winter Solstice Celebration. It had only fallen on Shen Qingqiu this year because Shang Qinghua had been on forced bedrest on Mu Qingfang’s order during that fateful meeting, leaving the rest of the peak lords to divide his usual workload among themselves.
Shen Qingqiu turned away. The words rang hollow, just as empty as the smiles Yue Qingyuan frequently directed his way. Smiles that never even reached his eyes. Just another reminder of how this was no longer Qi-ge. “Of course, Zhanmeng-shixiong,” he cut off any further attempts to continue this waste of time of a conversation. “If shixiong will excuse this one.”
Stepping away, Shen Qingqiu scanned the room and caught Shang Qinghua slipping in, still in his dirt-covered traveling robes from his trip to Fengxi City to trade for the sturdy wood they specialized in. And… was that a bloodstain on the hem of his outer robe? Shen Qingqiu wrinkled his nose as he watched his most un-assuming shidi make his way towards the tables with the food and grab a plate he promptly piled so full it seemed only a matter of time until something fell off.
Not that it was any of Shen Qingqiu’s business.
Another quick look revealed that at this point, most of the disciples seemed to be done exchanging their gifts; only a few disciples were still standing around the room, awkwardly waiting for someone to approach them, jealously watching those who had already received their gifts.
How pathetic. Shen Qingqiu was once again glad to have never needed to join this performative show of unity before.
Soon enough, some Tian Yi Overlook disciple approached one of the Bai Zhan brutes and handed him a bottle of sword polish oil. After the usual thanks were finished, the few people who were still following the disciples’ exchange of gift looked around the room, trying to guess who would be next to receive their gift, but Shen Qingqiu had kept track of the proceedings closely enough that he was not surprised by the gong silencing the room once more, announcing the second stage of this stupid exchange.
From the corner of his eyes, Shen Qingqiu caught Shang Qinghua munching on one of the rice cakes, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the next part of the event had begun. Well, at least he had the good sense that the food was far more interesting than the pointless exchange. Shen Qingqiu could respect that.
The crowd fell silent, anticipation palpable in the air as the attention sharpened, just waiting for a target. There was shifting, someone coughed, but nobody dared to step out and go first.
Instinctively, Shen Qingqiu’s hand once again grazed over the qiankun pouch on his waist holding his gift, making sure it was still right where it was supposed to be, but he did not volunteer to open this next round of the festivities, even though technically it should have been on him as the one who organized everything. No, he would keep to the fringes and wait until the attention scattered once more to hand his gift over, and then he could finally, finally slip away.
There was the sound of someone clearing their throat. It was painfully loud in the silence, and so very close and so very familiar. Shen Qingqiu tensed as the attention shifted towards Yue Qingyuan who somehow was once again only a few steps away from Shen Qingqiu.
Even though he was not the center of attention at that moment, Shen Qingqiu wanted to trash this whole place and crawl back to his Bamboo House, to get away from all the watching eyes grating against his skin. However, he did not move beyond tightening the grip on his fan.
Yue Qingyuan threw one more glance in Shen Qingqiu’s direction before he turned to address the room. “If everyone will allow this Yue-zhangmen to open this second exchange of gifts…”
Shoulders pulled back, Yue Qingyuan walked towards the center of the room where the rest of the sect leaders still stood in a loose circle, seeming unaware of the eyes on him to any onlookers, but Shen Qingqiu saw the slightest twitch in Yue Qingyuan’s eyebrows as speculative whispers began to fill the silence. He hated that he still knew his every tell, no matter how much Yue Qingyuan tried to suppress them.
He stopped right before the Old Palace Master. “If Lao Gonghzu will accept this one’s gift?” he said, pulling out an intricately carved box that revealed an ivory comb when the Old Palace Master opened it. It was a perfectly fine comb, an appropriately tasteful yet impersonal gift for someone of the Old Palace Master’s standing.
Shen Qingqiu’s fan creaked as his grip tightened. He was trying to suppress the wave of… something washing through him. He hated this. He hated how much this stupid gift was just the same as every single gift Yue Qingyuan had tried to give him over the years. Shen Qingqiu thought of the beautifully decorated fans he had received that he could easily match and even surpass the quality of with his own painting skills. The tacky gold-encrusted haircrowns that Shen Qingqiu could have easily purchased with his own funds if he so desired. The various dishes seasoned with expensive spices that Yue Qingyuan should have known Shen Qingqiu despised.
Stupid, stupid Yue Qingyuan had tried so many times to give something “meaningful”, yet not once had he tried to give Shen Qingqiu anything he would have truly appreciated.
As Shen Qingqiu’s mind was still on those barely veiled attempts at bribery Yue Qingyuan had attempted over the years, he watched the Old Palace Master give Yue Qingyuan a smile that seemed almost genuine. “Thanking Sect Leader Yue.” He took the comb from the box and held it up to inspect the intricate details on its surface. “This one could not have asked for a better gift.”
Shen Qingqiu felt the qi boiling in his meridians and took a deep breath to wrangle back his control.
He hated the sincerity in the Old Palace Master’s voice that shone through the pleasantly polite words. He hated it so much. How did this old coot, with all the years of wisdom he supposedly had over Shen Qingqiu, not see the pointlessness of this stupid comb? And, even worse, how had Yue Qingyuan managed to make someone as worldly and supposedly wise as the Old Palace Master happy with his gift when he never even actually tried to do the same with the man he had known for most of his life?
While Shen Qingqiu continued to seethe–hiding any outward sign of it that might show on his face behind his fan–the Old Palace Master finally put that damn comb away and took out a tacky box covered in gold leaf, calling out, “Shang Qinghua.”
From the corner of his eyes, Shen Qingqiu caught Shang Qinghua dropping the cookie he had just raised to his mouth. As the cookie landed on the floor, it broke into several pieces, covering Shang Qinghua’s grimy shoe with crumbs. What a waste.
As Shang Qinghua hastened to put down his plate without dropping it and rushed towards the Old Palace Master–his dirt covered robes now ever more stark in contrast to the festive robes of the cultivators he passed and his whole body visibly shaking–the room around them filled with murmurs. Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes at the pathetic display. Shang Qinghua might be a master, but he always acted as if he expected to be attacked any second. If the man had been a street rat, Shen Qingqiu could understand the behavior, but at most Shang Qinghua was a mouse. A mouse afraid of shadows that didn’t exist.
“Ah, Master Shang doesn’t deserve to have such a great gifter. His gifts are always so subpar!” Shen Qingqiu heard someone nearby say, and when he turned his head, he found Wen Chen leaning towards Wu Wang and failing to keep his voice low enough to not be heard by cultivator ears. “Don’t you remember what he gave to Master Lan last time?”
“Wasn’t it a bunch of candy? Not even any that would cost more than a few coins in town?” Wu Wang asked.
“Exactly!” Wu Chen nodded, his eyes sparkling at the chance to share this particular piece of gossip. “What an insult to poor Master Lan, to not even be worth giving an actual gift to.”
Narrowing his eyes, Shen Qingqiu looked back at Shang Qinghua, his hands trembling so much Shen Qingqiu wasn’t sure he would even be able to hold on to the gift he received. Candy? Even with An Ding’s miniscule budget, that was a ridiculously cheap present to buy for a pompous event such as this.
Though if Shen Qingqiu thought about it for more than a second, he supposed this wouldn’t be the worst kind of gift. There were a few kinds of candy he could think of that he wouldn’t be opposed to receiving himself, candy that he had dreamt of ever since his slave days but never gotten the chance to even try. Granted, most of those he could buy with his own money now, but some of them like that milk candy flavoured with local berries were a specialty of the towns in the far north he had grown up in and not returned to since.
Shen Qingqiu’s thoughts then wandered to another memory. Some nights, he still dreamt of the Lantern Festival in one of the cities the slavers once brought him to. The huge variety of candy made specifically for this one festival only and the various toys and incredibly beautiful statues that were sold as signs of the celebration seemed unreal, like Shen Qingqiu had made them up in his wildest dreams. He had never seen anything that could match it since, but Shen Qingqiu had never even learned the town’s name. No matter how much he secretly yearned to return and fully enjoy the festival now that he could, trying to find this one little festival somewhere out there was nearly impossible. Especially with his life as a peak lord keeping him almost exclusively in the sect besides when he was given a mission or had a meeting at one of the other sects, leaving little room for exploration.
Yes, something from an event such as the one from that town would make for a fine present, Shen Qingqiu decided. At least for him it would. But he was also aware just listening to how Wu Wen and Wu Chen spoke that they would never understand the value of such a gift.
Shen Qingqiu could see the sweat on Shang Qinghua’s face as he received his gift from the Old Palace Master.
Opening the wrapping revealed a set of golden tools; a hammer, a chisel and several more pieces Shen Qingqiu couldn’t make out from where he stood.
Shen Qingqiu scoffed silently. Useless. This gift had without a doubt been expensive, but it would also get damaged if Shang Qinghua actually used the tools. It was gold, goddamit! Whoever had thought it worthwhile to include such a soft metal in something as practical as tools had clearly never intended for them to be used for their usual purpose.
Well, he supposed this gift truly encapsulated Huan Hua Palace, didn’t it? Shen Qingqiu’s lips turned up bitterly at the thought.
Shang Qinghua looked up from the uselessly gaudy tools and at the Old Palace Master with a strained smile, as though he wanted to curse the uselessness of his gift to the old coots face. “Ah, thank you,” he said with the appropriate amount of enthusiasm for the situation.
Namely, none.
The Old Palace Master was either better at controlling his expression or blind to the cool response his gift had received, looking just as infuriatingly “pleasant” as he had the whole night. “This Master is glad Peak Lord Shang likes his gift. Now, will Master Shang continue the exchange of gifts? This Master is sure everyone is eager to see what present you brought for the event.”
“Ah! Yes!” Shang Qinghua suddenly stood so straight that it was painful to watch, his trembling chased away by the tension in his limbs. “Sh-Shen-shixiong.”
The room went so silent Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t have needed to be a cultivator to hear a pin drop. After a few, excruciating moments of silence, whispers began to fill the area.
“Oh no, for Master Shang to get Shen Qingqiu of all people...”
“Do you think Master Shang will be alright?”
“This will be interesting.”
Lifting his fan to cover his face once more, Shen Qingqiu did not allow his gaze to wander, looking straight at Shang Qinghua as he walked towards him, not once turning his head. He still knew how everyone in the room was watching him, could feel their stares boring into him from all directions.
For just a moment, Shen Qingqiu considered turning around and leaving the room, then the building, then the peak and the mountain. To leave behind everyone who was just waiting for his reaction. Deny them what they were so clearly hoping for.
But standing in front of him, Shang Qinghua looked even more miserable than himself, once again trembling under the collective attention after it was no longer solely on his shixiong. Shen Qingqiu met his shidi’s eyes and for a second, he felt closer to him than he ever had before. Neither of them wanted to be here, but who had asked them about what they wanted?
Who even cared about what they wanted?
Shen Qingqiu stopped several steps away from Shang Qinghua, refusing to get any closer to the Old Palace Master, and waited. Quivering in his boots, Shang Qinghua closed the distance between them, shoulders raised to his ears as if he was trying to make himself smaller than he was.
Pathetic.
“Shen-shixiong,” Shang Qinghua said, rummaging through the bag hanging over his shoulder that was just as dirty as his robes. “This shidi is aware it isn’t much, but please accept my gift.” And with that, he pulled out a little wooden figurine he hadn’t even bothered to wrap and pressed it into Shen Qingqiu’s hand.
Mentally, Shen Qingqiu was already prepared to toss out whatever he received as soon as he managed to leave the festivities. However, he promptly forgot his plans when he looked down at his gift. The sight of the little cat he was now holding made him freeze in place.
The figurine was simple, just a roughly-cut wooden little thing like one would find at most markets for only a few coins.
But… It looked exactly like the one Qi-ge stole for him one year during the Lantern Festival in a town he couldn’t name. The one he had jealously protected against the other slave kids and even managed to sneak into the Qiu household when that wretched slaver Yu Song had sold him. The same one Qiu Jianluo had found among the few belongings Shen Qingqiu had owned at the time and destroyed right before his eyes.
Qiu Jianluo had watched Shen Qingqiu for the smallest sign of a reaction as he meticulously cut into the wood, spraying pieces of his most precious possession everywhere. Shen Qingqiu had used all his willpower to hide his reaction, fully aware that any action Qiu Jianluo could interpret as disobedience would be used against him.
Not that it had changed anything, Qiu Jianluo had just found another excuse to punish him.
Shen Qingqiu couldn’t stop staring, his heartbeat quickening in his ears. Just how had Shang Qinghua found the exact same cat figure? And why? For some time, Shen Qingqiu himself had been checking out the toy stands on any market he came across, hoping that the toy had made it beyond that unknown town’s borders. However, he had never managed to find this exact one with the smoothly polished wood and the tail that curled just so. For Shang Qinghua to have found the toy. To have gifted it to Shen Qingqiu. This… this was impossible.
Shen Qingqiu was vaguely aware of the not-so-subtle whispers filling the air, insulting his gift or throwing jabs about how the “snake of Qing Jing” was about to punish poor Shang Qinghua for giving him such a cheap gift, but he ignored all of them.
“Shen-shidi, if you’ll allow–” Yue Qingyuan tried to step in, but Shen Qingqiu interrupted him before he could finish his sentence by putting up his hand which held his fan, making a gesture to silence him.
Reflexively, Shen Qingqiu closed his hand around the little cat figurine as his gaze met Shang Qinghua’s. “Where did you get this?” he asked, positioning his fan so that all that Shang Qinghua could see were his eyes. A poor attempt to hide the whirlwind of emotions he was currently experiencing. He could feel his usually immovable mask cracking with every moment that passed.
Shang Qinghua began blabbering so quickly it was hard to follow his words. “You see, Shen-shixiong, during one of his recent meetings with some merchants, this shidi came across a Lantern Festival in one of the towns I passed through–Caoyu District I think it was?–and this cat reminded me of shixiong, so I just had to get it for him, because–well, anyway, this shidi hopes shixiong will accept this gift?”
The longer the silence hung between them, the louder the murmurs around them grew, invading the space between him and Shang Qinghua. Finally, Shen Qingqiu nodded. Just once. Just big enough that Shang Qinghua could make out the gesture. “This shixiong will accept the present. Thanking Shang-shidi for his gift.”
Then he focused on the man standing halfway between the two of them and the Old Palace Master. “This one’s gift is for Zhanmeng-shixiong,” he announced.
Shen Qingqiu watched as Yue Qingyuan hastened to close the last of the distance between them, as if he had just been waiting for an excuse to approach.
Shen Qingqiu was perfectly poised as he pulled the painting out of the qiankun pouch. His hands were not shaking. No, he did not allow any of the tension he was feeling to show outside of his mind.
Without looking at it, Shen Qingqiu handed his gift over, now glad that he had covered it in some paper on a whim, giving him a few more seconds to prepare himself for how Yue Qingyuan might react. Shen Qingqiu was barely breathing as he watched him remove the paper.
The painting that was revealed showed a series of mountains. Buildings lined each peak, their style reminiscent of the dark, sturdy architecture of the north. The greenery, too, was of the kind one might find in the northern parts of the land. Dotted across the landscape were figures in vibrantly colored robes, looking elaborate enough that only the rich could ever hope to afford or maintain them.
As more and more people clamoured closer to get a look with their own eyes at a painting done by the famous Xiu Ya Sword himself, Shen Qingqiu caught several people’s eyes widen at the display of his skill–each stroke in the painting was placed with care and precision, the eye to detail of someone who had memorized every detail of their subject.
Some part of Shen Qingqiu enjoyed the validation none of those people would ever give to him directly, but he would have appreciated their validation even more if they hadn’t been so damn close, almost close enough to brush against Shen Qingqiu’s outer robes.
And yet…
"Where is this place?" Liu Qingge's voice reverberated through the silence, because of course it would be the brute who would dare ruin the moment with questions.
Almost as one, everyone turned briefly towards Liu Qingge only to almost immediately return their attention to Shen Qingqiu, eagerly waiting for his response. However, Shen Qingqiu ignored the stares boring into him, his eyes focused on Yue Qingyuan’s face like a hawk as the other gazed at the painting he had been gifted.
Yue Qingyuan let his eyes wander slowly over the painting, taking in every detail of the piece as though he would never see it again. As Shen Qingqiu watched him, it felt as though a weight was being lifted from his shoulders. This. This was exactly why he’d done it, the undisguised admiration in Yue Qingyuan’s eyes at something in any way related to Shen Qingqiu. To their shared past. He could have watched Yue Qingyuan admire his work indefinitely if the whispering filling the area hadn’t grown adamant enough to demand his attention.
"I would like to know as well!" Someone in the crowd stated. “Where is this?”
"It is so beautiful, I would love to visit this place," said another.
Shen Qingqiu was waiting for Yue Qingyuan to speak up, to explain, but he seemed like he was too engrossed in the painting to notice anything around him. “Well, Zhangmen-shixiong?” Shen Qingqiu asked, narrowing his eyes the slightest bit. One of his hands was still clenching around the little wooden cat Shang Qinghua had given him, grounding him.
Yue Qingyuan looked up from the painting as though through a haze. But instead of giving the answer Shen Qingqiu expected, Yue Qingyuan smiled apologetically, a muted look in his eyes. "I… This seems to be a place in the north that this one has not visited, I am afraid. But this shixiong can assure that the place Shen-shidi has captured here must be more beautiful than the actual location. This zhangmen cannot even imagine a place this beautiful existing, it is so magnificent."
Shen Qingqiu felt like ice was flowing through his veins, his jaw went tight. That response… He had been wrong. All his effort had been for nothing.
Shen Qingqiu shouldn’t have bothered.
The crowd’s attention shifted once more towards Shen Qingqiu, waiting for him to answer the question on everyone’s mind. His ears were ringing, the space around him suddenly feeling even smaller, way too small, and he knew he would do something he would regret any moment now since–
Then Shang Qinghua, of all people, spoke up.
"Ahhh this is such an interesting reinterpretation of the sect! Those trees? If Cang Qiong was located any further in the north, these ones would surely be the ones we would have around here. Oh, and the clothes? They look warm yet elegant, this one should see if our robe makers can match some of these colours for our winter garments. Shen-shixiong did a remarkable job!”
“A northern reinterpretation of Cang Qiong? Surely that isn't what this is.” Qi Qingqi pushed to the front of the crowd to examine the painting for herself with a critical eye. "Well, I suppose I can see it now that Shang-shixiong mentions it. What an… unusual painting subject to choose." Qi Qingqi huffed.
Everyone nodded in agreement. Everyone except for Yue Qingyuan who was looking at Shen Qingqiu with a sadness in his eyes Shen Qingqiu was sure no one but him could see.
Cang Qiong Mountain had always seemed so far away to two street brats dreaming to join a sect, to become real cultivators and live the life of someone who had reached the top. But being children of the north who didn’t know anything but the few towns they passed through, of course they had only ever envisioned the kind of buildings they saw around them when they whispered about their shared dream as they were hiding from the slavers; the trees that lined the edges of the towns and the clothes they saw the lords and ladies wear shaped their vision.
In the end, the Cang Qiong of their dreams was just that... only a dream. But now that Shen Qingqiu had the artistic skills he had fought so hard for, he could at least capture the place on paper that he and Yue Qi had dreamed of. At least let them have that other Cang Qiong in that way.
Shen Qingqiu had been so sure this would be the perfect gift when he had gotten assigned Yue Qingyuan for this stupid gift exchange, but Yue Qingyuan was acting as though he didn’t know what the painting was depicting. And Shen Qingqiu couldn’t decide if he hated the idea more that Yue Qingyuan didn’t know or was pretending not to know. Either way, Shen Qingqiu was on the edge of something dangerous. And the only thing that was keeping him grounded was Shang Qinghua of all people.
Everyone was still looking at Shen Qingqiu, waiting to hear more about the decisions that had gone into the creation of this painting, but he said nothing. Instead, Shang Qinghua piped in, "Ah, so, Zhangman-shixiong already gave his present away, so someone else will have to continue the exchange. Someone from Cang Qiong maybe? How about Wei-shixiong? As the most senior Peak Lord who hasn’t had his turn yet, you should go next."
At that, everyone's attention shifted to Wei Qingwei who nearly jumped at finding himself suddenly being the center of attention. Shen Qingqiu didn't wait to hear Wei Qingwei's response, and instead began to briskly walk away; now that all the parts of the event that mandated his presence were over and done with, he had no reason to stay. In fact, he now had even more reasons to leave than before.
It was all too much. Qi-ge not even acknowledging his gift for what it was, after the hours upon hours he had poured into it…
It hurt.
Shen Qingqiu had thought he and Yue Qingyuan had something special, something worth remembering, even if it was only in little moments nobody else could see, but it seemed like he had been wrong.
Shen Qingqiu couldn’t wait to get back to his Bamboo House. To be able to lock his door and separate himself from everyone and everything. If he stayed here any longer, it would be only a matter of time before he qi deviated. At least now that he was outside of the building, he was able to breathe in the fresh air rather than the stuffy air of too many people in a room with too little ventilation. Of course there was something Shen Qingqiu had forgotten to take into account. The fresh air was enough to make his muscles relax a little, but it also gave his mind space to process what happened, leaving him feeling like he was burning.
“Wait! Shen-shixiong.” Shen Qingqiu turned around to see Shang Qinghua following after him, looking a bit flushed still as he nervously wrung his hands.
Another time, Shen Qingqiu probably would have mocked him for that fact, especially since he had been the one to approach Shen Qingqiu, but through the turmoil raging within him, and after what had happened–what Shang Qinghua had done for him–he couldn’t even consider it.
Why had Shang Qinghua given him that gift? How could he have known what Shen Qingqiu’s own gift was… when even Yue Qingyuan had said nothing?
“What is it, Shang-shidi?” Shen Qingqiu asked instead as he turned to face Shang Qinghua, giving him his undivided attention. The only person that deserved it, apparently, if today was any indicator.
“I just… there was another part to the gift…” If possible, Shang Qinghua seemed to grow even more nervous than before. His hands kept fidgeting, as if needing something to occupy them. “I couldn’t give it to you earlier because… well, you’ll see.”
Shang Qinghua pulled out a piece of paper from his robes. It looked like nothing special–quite the opposite, in fact. The paper was wrinkled and ripped. Still, Shen Qingqiu took it without question.
“Anyways, just… Well, thanks for, you know, organizing this whole thing.” Shang Qinghua gestured vaguely around the hall. “Since shixiong has not joined any of the previous Winter Solstice Celebrations, this one can imagine shixiong wasn’t exactly keen to be here. But, I… this one hopes it wasn’t completely awful for shixiong and that… Anyways, this one has to go, surely someone needs something from An Ding, as usual.” He let out a nervous laugh as he inched back now that his task was completed. “Bye shixiong! Have a nice rest of the night!”
Shang Qinghua’s words came out at such a speed Shen Qingqiu didn’t even have a chance to completely unfold the paper before Shang Qinghua hurried back inside. He was gone so fast that he missed how Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widened as his gaze fell onto the words at the very top of the paper, the racing thoughts in his head going blissfully quiet for a moment.
CERTIFICATE OF THE EXECUTION OF YU SONG IN FENGXI CITY ON THE 5TH DAY OF THE 12TH MONTH
Yu Song, like that asshole who had sold Shen Qingqiu to the Qiu household all those years ago. And right there, at the end of the line, the date. Today’s date. A date Shen Qingqiu had stared at for months preparing the Winter Solstice Celebration.
Something in his chest Shen Qingqiu had never even been aware of loosened, allowing him to breathe more deeply than he had in years. He felt an unconscious smile growing on his face as he tucked the paper away.
From where he stood, Shen Qingqiu could see through the window how Shang Qinghua was hurrying between people as though his robes were on fire. Something that would make most see him as a fool. However, Shen Qingqiu now knew, concealing the actual sharp mind he kept hidden underneath, because how else could he explain how Shang Qinghua just… knew things he wasn’t supposed to. Shen Qingqiu had always expected there to be more to that man and now… Well, now he started to get an idea on exactly how much more there was to his least offensive shidi, and how much more there was yet to peel away and discover about him.
Shen Qingqiu’s hand tightened around the cat figurine he had not let go of ever since Shang Qinghua had given it to him while his other hand delicately held on to the crumpled paper, treating it with the care that no one else would give to the document.
Turning around, Shen Qingqiu felt calmer than he had all day–no, all month, if he was honest with himself. As he left the hall behind, Shen Qingqiu felt that maybe this stupid celebration hadn’t been for nothing after all. Shang Qinghua shaped out to be a great ally. It was an unexpected thought, but not an unpleasant one. Shen Qingqiu certainly could recognize when he needed to keep someone close.
And maybe, just maybe, Shen Qingqiu did not hate the thought of getting to know Shang Qinghua better.