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The grass made for him a soft cushion to sit upon. The wind carried with it the ominous musings of upcoming seasons. The bamboo grove sighed soundly as if finally eased from the burdens of a cruel, nameless master.
Such dreadful poetry.
Shen Qingqiu could hardly deem himself inept, however. With how hungrily other diplomatic activities vied for his attention, it was a marvel that he had been given an opportunity to simply be.
Sat in the heart of this haven, eyes closed with his hands resting on his thighs, Xiu Ya lay on his right, with his fan to the left. Shen Qingqiu carefully eased the knots and tangles in his meridians from months of working himself to the bone to keep this sect standing.
Even after only a short period of meditation, Shen Qingqiu could already feel his consciousness becoming lax — the tell-tale signs of being so near to slumber. Although he had no further need for it, it seemed as though his body and mind sought for such luxury.
It was a nuisance.
However, seeing as he has been temporarily prohibited from tending to his peak duties, for this time, Shen Qingqiu allowed himself to indulge.
Truthfully, he had forgotten how incredibly gratifying and beneficial it was to meditate. Most of all he forgot what it was like to be at peace, with the most his teenage years being alotted for survival, schemes, and sanctuaries.
However, Shen Qingqiu would rather eat his own hair than admit that Mu Qingfang's medical order brought him this degree of satisfaction. It was only because Shen Qingqiu himself was in the throes of an unfortunate qi deviation, that he could not resist Mu Qingfang barging into his office as he prodded and nagged before dragging him to his peak.
Shen Qingqiu breathed deeply.
And scowled when he caught the faintest sound of feet thumping against grass, getting nearer towards him.
No disciple would ever dare. Likewise, he suspected that Mu Qingfang carried over his orders to his other martial siblings. Therefore, an audacious action, it can only be, without a shadow of a doubt —
"Shen Qingqiu," was called gruffly, in the way that only Liu Qingge could ever emulate.
Shen Qingqiu opened his eyes, and found both Liu Qingge and Qi Qingqi stood in front of him. Liu Qingge with his hand resting upon Cheng Luan, while Qi Qingqi with her hands folded in front of her. Nonetheless, Shen Qingqiu kept his gaze glued to the vast bamboo grove behind them, with a concrete path that trailed back to his Bamboo House.
"Liu-shidi. Qi-shimei. So soon already?" he asked mildly. "Hasn't my head disciple already informed you that I am not to be disturbed? That—"
"That 'you are not to be disturbed unless there is something of great importance concerning the sect?'" Qi Qingqi scoffed. "Of course he did. Why did you think we come to see you, then?"
"I shudder to think that disrespect may be the behavior that is being sown on Xian Shu Peak," Shen Qingqiu sneered, fingers trailing the hilt of Xiu Ya. "Qi-shimei and Liu-shidi should state their business for disrupting this master.”
Liu Qingge stepped forward.
"The victim's body has been cremated."
"Whose body?" Shen Qingqiu said impatiently.
"Some cultivator named Qiu Haitang," replied Liu Qingge, and suddenly, it was like the world shuddered to a halt, for the brazen mention of such a name shadowed all else.
Outwardly, there seemed to be nothing amiss; Shen Qingqiu was still staring at the greenery behind as they towered above him.
If one could look past the blankness, peek through the composure that Shen Qingqiu had carefully cultivated throughout the years, they’d find his insides hollow, from flesh that was carved out of his ribcage. The name rang strangely, submerged in his throat.
Again, such dreadful poetry.
"The same woman who had sent the complaint detailing a stalker of possible demonic origins," Qi Qingqi said with a haughty lilt. "Liu-shixiong and I found her corpse by a stream, and her chest was punctured with stab wounds that it was simply a mercy that she did not survive it."
Shen Qingqiu did not have time to be Shen Jiu. And yet, in the face of Liu Qingge and Qi Qingqi’s clinical assessment, he found himself repressing the childish urge to flee.
"You were certain that she could not be saved?" Shen Qingqiu asked, throat dry.
Perhaps it is simply inevitable, then — that people lapse back to old habits when eclipsed with a stranger of the past.
"Yes," Liu Qingge said. “Had signs of demonic energy.”
Qi Qingqi said, “To not risk the health of the nieghboring village, we burned her before burying her ashes. She did not seem to have a family anymore, when we asked. They said she was a rogue cultivator.”
Shen Qingqiu did not want closure. All he wanted, at the moment, was to be alone.
Shen Qingqiu’s gaze snapped to hers. "If, as both of you have said, her remains has already been tended to…"
"Shen Qingqiu," interrupted Qi Qingqi, chin raised high. "We have also caught the suspect before he could manage to flee the scene."
"A demon?"
Liu Qingge shook his head, while Qi Qingqi sneered and said, "It was a man—a cultivator, at that. And as much as I hate to admit it, we need your accord, as acting sect leader, to request the coordination of Huan Hua Palace for this cultivator to be sent off to the Water Prison where he would face punishment for his despicable actions."
***
When his shizun named him successor of Qing Jing Peak, he thought it a blessing — to acquire the same degree of power that, as a child, had him possessing purpling bruises and painful stomachs and a river of blood cascading down his nose.
He thought it a blessing — that the position for Head Disciple of Qiong Ding Peak had remained unnamed, to the moment where the then sect leader died heroically in the clash involving the Demon Emperor, Tianlang-jun.
He thought it a blessing — that since Qing Jing Peak came second in power, he was to be the acting sect leader of Cang Qiong Mountain until they ascended for the next generation.
He thought it a blessing to leave that wretched manor. Likewise, he thought it a blessing to visit it a second time with a sword to his name and power in his veins.
It was moments like this that brought him back to the cold reality that most blessings last long enough to become curses, regrets, hypotheticals.
She was the last phantom tied to his fate. By all means, he must be delighted — the person who could bring his downfall has been condemned to a fate six feet under.
Shen Qingqiu was well and truly alone.
And yet, it did not bring him relief.
Shen Qingqiu stepped off of Xiu Ya and onto the grounds of Qian Cao, where Liu Qingge took to leading them in front. He snapped his fan open and followed, while Qi Qingqi stayed in pace beside him.
"Liu-shixiong suggested we deny him medical attention at first. He was bloody and beaten — badly wounded when we caught him in our pursuit," Qi Qingqi explained, then scoffed. "He, however, made it extremely apparent that he would gladly die by our hand — even begged for us to end him. I did not give him the satisfaction."
Shen Qingqiu thought back to Qiu Haitang — the warmth of her arms around him, the call of his name that fed warmth to a bottomless, cold heart — and imagined the man taking her life away, with the blood of her still warm on his blade.
A sharp curl of vindication crept up his spine.
"Good," Shen Qingqiu said simply. "After that beast's trial, whatever action that is inflicted upon him is no longer within the jurisdiction of Cang Qiong. The Old Palace Master is free to punish him as he sees fit."
It was not long before they arrived to their destination — made apparent by the raised voices inside the room. They pushed inside the room, with Shen Qingqiu in front.
Shen Qingqiu had little time to react to glass breaking beneath his boots.
He snapped his fan closed, striking away the vial that had come close to breaking against his cheek. Mu Qingfang, with his hair disheveled and blood on his robes, caught the vial before whirling to the patient and shoving the liquid down his throat.
From where Shen Qingqiu could see, as Mu Qingfang continued to block most of his view on the culprit, the thrashing body gradually stilled.
Silence descended the room.
Shen Qingqiu did not think he had ever witnessed Mu Qingfang look so disheveled and far from his disposition as a calm and steady healer. Bleatedly, he recognized the voice of Qi Qingqi leaving the room to fetch them some tea, but he couldn’t care less.
Broken shards of glass littered the floor, and Shen Qingqiu guessed it was about the same as the vial that Mu Qingfang had just forcibly made the patient drink.
"That dose should knock him out for a few sichen." Mu Qingfang said midly, his back still facing them. “I might have to trouble Shang-shidi with another batch of supplies.”
Shen Qingqiu crept closer, to the side opposite of Mu Qingfang. Finally, his gaze traveled to the culprit whose hair was still caked with blood, face soft and red and scarred, with bruises blooming down his jaw and neck, with cut lips turned down in — a frown —
"Has he given you a name?" asked Liu Qingge.
It was— It was—?
His fan cracked.
Shen Qingqiu could not breathe.
Mu Qingfang folded the culprit's ear to the side, only to reveal a familiar branding behind it — embedded black and stark against a pale complexion.
"Qi-ge?" Shen Qingqiu whispered.
Because the man on the bed cannot be anyone other than Yue Qi. Older and bruised, perhaps, but no less recognizable. The uneven fringes of his hair rested on temples with hued bruises, and his closed eyes gave way to emphasize the deep baggage underneath. His lips were cut, dry, and cracked. His body, most of all, had Immortal Binding Cables wrapped around him — with a tint of ashen gray.
Qi-ge looked like he had been dead.
Shen Qingqiu, up until this moment, had very well thought he had been.
"Shen Qingqiu." Liu Qingge crossed his arms, stepping towards him. "You know this man?"
Shen Qingqiu gripped the cracked stem of his fan, never removing his gaze from Yue Qi's still and unmoving body.
The door opened, and Qi Qingqi entered with a senior disciple in tow. Said disciple paused at the disarray of the room, before cautiously placing the tray on the table bedside, bowing, and taking her leave.
Qi Qingqi took one look at them, at the man on the bed, and raised a brow. "My. Whatever did I miss?"
Shen Qingqiu had a sudden, burning feeling that twisted incessantly in his chest. His skin prickled and he wanted nothing more than to shield Qi-ge from the eyes of his martial siblings.
"Liu-shidi, Qi-shimei, Mu-shidi," he started, gaze fixed on Yue Qi alone. "This shixiong requests for us to be left alone."
Mu Qingfang, the perceptive bastard that he was, stood without as much as a ruffle of his robe. Not much can be said for Liu Qingge and Qi Qingqi.
"Shen Qingqiu—!"
"Now, I do not know what your intentions are however is this not a blatant abuse of your power—?"
"—what schemes are you up to now—"
"Mu-shixiong, are you not also wondering? Why the secrecy?" Qi Qingqi demanded. "What is something that we are prohibited from witnessing that you command for our absence?"
"Shen Qingqiu can't be left alone with this man," Liu Qingge insisted, voice hard. "There is no telling what he might do."
"I am the sole healer in this room. Shen-shixiong would not do anything rash or harmful to my patient, lest he risk the tarnished reputation of the sect. And a healer's ire and retribution." Mu Qingfang turned to him, eyes assessing. "Shen-shixiong?"
"Mu-shidi is correct," Shen Qingqiu said flatly. "I give him my word that I would abide by his peak's protocols while alone with his patient."
"I trust that Shen-shixiong would be able to call me in the incident that the patient would awaken and would be too much to handle, even in his restraints."
Shen Qingqiu nodded once.
Mu Qingfang seemed to be satisfied with his answer, because he glanced significantly at Liu Qingge and Qi Qingqi. Qi Qingqi sniffed once, before she too followed Mu Qingfang out of the room.
Now.
Shen Qingqiu turned to glare coldly at Liu Qingge, who allowed his hand to rest upon the hilt of Cheng Luan. He seemed to waver a bit.
Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes.
"Well?"
"If you need me—"
"I won't."
Liu Qingge's jaw ticked. "I will be outside. Don't do anything stupid."
"I wouldn't dare emulate Liu-shidi."
"I mean it, Shen Qingqiu."
Shen Qingqiu waved him off impatiently. "Go."
The door swung open, and closed.
At last, the stiffness holding his body upright melted away, leaving a hollow rawness that stung beneath his skin. He breathed in the strange, tangy scent of medicine and the damned tea left on the table, before he decided it was too loud. Too loud to breathe and his chest hurt and were his hands shaking—?
He closed them into fists, walking towards the man — towards Qi-ge, who was beaten and unconscious and barely alive.
Dropping heavily to sit by his bedside, Shen Qingqiu cautiously reached for Qi-ge's hand, which was barely warm to the touch, before enveloping them into his own. He could not quite peel his gaze away from Yue Qi's face, could not stop himself from trembling when he held those hands — roughened, calloused, with dried flecks of blood underneath his fingernails. And though they scaled larger than his, Shen Qingqiu would never mistake the scars on his palms for anyone else.
This was the boy who wrapped him up in his arms to shield him from the cold. This was the boy whose stomach was quick to turn full, whose leftovers would be surrendered to the greedier parasites of the bunch. This was the boy who bought him those ridiculous snacks with a sweetness that made his teeth ache and his heart warm.
This was the boy who painted himself as a bigger target in the manor of a cruel young master.
This was the boy he left behind.
"Qi-ge," Shen Qingqiu said softly, "I finally found you."
***
Shen Jiu knew he should not have overindulged in the kindness of Qiu Haitang.
For a day spent keeping her company, basking in her chatter and smile and care, was a day that would first be a blessing, but turn out to be a curse eventually.
Qiu Haitang asked him about the bruises hiding just inches shy from his sleeves, and Shen Jiu told her as it was: that master Qiu had been stricter than usual, grabbing him by the wrists as he degraded Shen Jiu's calligraphy and mocked him and had him scrub the floors clean from where he'd spilled his ink.
Qiu Haitang had cried. More yet, she did not believe him.
The next day, he did not even have the chance to eat the snacks that had been left by his bedside. Shen Jiu had been yanked out of slumber by the young master himself.
Qiu Jianluo was twice critical of the flaws in his writing sessions, and thrice cruel with the punishments he meted out. The back of his head still ached from where his hair had been pulled and his cheek stung in an angry red.
That same night, he had been locked in the storage shed as a familiar ache weighed in his stomach. He could not quite track how much time it has been since, but moonlight seeped through the gaps of the shed and granted him a breeze that his clothes could barely smother.
It was dim. It was cold.
It was a place where he would be safe from the likes of Qiu Jianluo.
"Xiao Jiu?"
Shen Jiu startled from where he'd been resting his head against the door. He pressed himself more, before seeing a familiar pair of warm, brown eyes creased in worry.
"Xiao Jiu?"
"Stupid Qi-ge, can't you say anything besides my name?"
"Xiao Jiu shouldn't worry. This Qi-ge will get you out."
"Who's worrying?" Shen Jiu hissed, just as loud cluttering noises could be heard from the outside. "Qi-ge should stay quiet! The young master might come and punish me again!"
"This Qi-ge wouldn't let that happen," Qi-ge said, like the liar he was. "Once I get you out, Xiao Jiu is free to go and to do whatever he pleases."
"What are you on about?" Shen Jiu said impatiently. "Qi-ge always says that he's going to protect me, but he doesn't. He disappears somewhere in the manor and I rarely get to see him."
Silence hollowed out the air between them.
"I — That is, Qi-ge was busy with other things, that he could not personally check up on Xiao Jiu," said Qi-ge, voice weak.
"This Xiao Jiu understands—" Shen Jiu turned his back to the door, crossing his arms. "—that Qi-ge was too busy being pampered by the young master to even think about his little brother."
The door swung open behind him, yet Shen Jiu refused to look.
"If Qiu Jianluo finds me out of this shed, don't you think that he would only punish me more?" Shen Jiu asked bitterly. "Stupid Qi-ge."
"Qi-ge is sorry for not fulfilling his promises," Qi-ge said quickly from behind him. "But today, I mean all of it. Xiao Jiu, please look at me."
Reluctantly, Shen Jiu did as told, arms uncrossing as he did. He startled when Qi-ge shoved a little pouch into his hands, and pulled him to his feet.
"Wha—"
The next thing he knew, Shen Jiu was being dragged towards the tall stone borders surrounding the manor. He could barely make out Qi-ge's expression, the smell of metal heavy in the air, when Qi-ge suddenly lifted him up to his shoulders.
Shen Jiu cried out when Qi-ge came close to toppling to one side before steadying himself. Shen Jiu now stood on Qi-ge’s shoulders, hands laying flat on the stone wall in front of him.
"Qi-ge, what are you doing—?"
"Xiao Jiu must climb."
Dumbfounded and certainly not used to Qi-ge’s rigid tone, Shen Jiu did as he was told, jumping up until he gripped the top of the wall, and hefting himself up. Breathlessly, he looked down to see Qi-ge now seated on the cold concrete, looking into the shadows of the manor behind him.
"Qi-ge," whispered Shen Jiu, gripping the wall and scrambling to offer a hand. But why wasn't Qi-ge looking at him anymore? "Really?”
"Xiao Jiu should go before the young master finds out," said Qi-ge, his voice wavering. "This one would only be a burden for Xiao Jiu."
Shen Jiu doesn't understand.
Qi-ge's lips were bleeding. He ducked his head, and Shen Jiu's eyes dropped to the dark smear on his leg — his leg which was also folded into an angle that can't possibly be natural—
"Qi-ge—”
Just then, Shen Jiu clamped his mouth shut, as a figure descended onto the lone, moonlit path, with a smile that barely warmed the coldness in his eyes. The top of his robes were unfastened to reveal — that his neck was bleeding. His hands were also bleeding.
And his gaze was locked on Qi-ge.
And Shen Jiu doesn't understand.
"There you are, A-Qi," Qiu Jianluo said softly, from what Shen Jiu could hear, from his place in the shadows.
Shen Jiu caught Qi-ge’s gaze, from where he ducked his head. He begged urgently, in quiet, trembling lips, for Shen Jiu to go.
Qiu Jianluo descended closer.
"What have I told you about the bedside manners of a good little slave?"
And Shen Jiu doesn't understand.
***
“Wait for me, Qi-ge. I’ll come for you.”
***
Painstakingly long while Yue Qi slumbered, Shen Qingqiu had Liu Qingge fetch a small basin filled with warm water as well as cloth. He also took the time to clean up the shards of glass left lying on the floor, after the second time his foot nearly slid against it.
Shen Qingqiu sat by Yue Qi's bedside and reached for the cloth, soaking it in the basin before wringing it nearly dry. He then proceeded to clean off the dried blood as much as he could — from what he could clean beneath Yue Qi's fingernails and even flecks of it on his arms.
He would repeat the process methodically, being especially cautious with the blood stuck to his dark hair with strands of gray, in case he had a sensitive wound that Mu Qingfang had only just taken care of. Likewise, Shen Qingqiu brought the cloth to clean his face, again, refraining from pressing harshly on the areas too mishapen to be natural.
By the time Shen Qingqiu was cleaning behind his ears, both the cloth and the water had turned to an unflattering shade of An Ding brown.
Frowning, Shen Qingqiu wrung the fabric one last time, and moved the basin to the far end of where he lay. He turned to the side — only to startle when a cold, calloused hand clutched his left wrist.
And a voice and lilt he had longed to hear for years.
"I don't—I don't deserve this..."
Shen Qingqiu felt his throat run dry.
Even when he has prepared all afternoon for this confrontation, Shen Qingqiu could not find it in himself to react properly. He could not turn his head — and what if Qi-ge didn't recognize him? Worse yet, what if Qi-ge burned his face to memory, and loathed to see Shen Jiu's face after so many years of failure —
"Please," Yue Qi croaked, and the grip he had on Shen Qingqiu tightened. "I can't... I want to die. I need to die. I can't... I can't do this anymore..."
Shen Qingqiu turned to look at him, only to find Yue Qi's eyes scrunched shut and his mouth trembling around silent words that he could not voice. Using his other hand, Shen Qingqiu very firmly settled his thumb on the warmth of Yue Qi's cheek. He leaned closer, hushing him.
"I miss him," Yue Qi slurred. "I miss him. I miss my Xiao Jiu—"
Shen Qingqiu's eyes burned.
"Fucking hell," Shen Qingqiu said hoarsely. "Qi-ge, open your eyes. Open your eyes right now."
Yue Qi shook his head, babbling, "I couldn't wait — I couldn't keep living like that so I killed her. I killed her and I enjoyed it and I deserve to die."
Rivers of tears slid down his cheeks. The grip around his wrist turned painful, but Shen Qingqiu kept it close to his chest, anyway. It trembled and twitched but he too clutched on it like a lifeline.
"Xiao Jiu, what would he think of me now? Xiao Jiu would hate me—"
"Xiao Jiu wants you to shut the fuck up and open your damned eyes!" Shen Qingqiu spat, shrugging off Yue Qi's hold and clutching on his cheeks, hard. "Breathe, you stupid fool! I've only just gotten you back — you are not allowed to fuck off and die!"
Shen Qingqiu breathed heavily, as Yue Qi's eyes were wide and glassy and red, as they fixed on him. His mouth moved uselessly for a few minutes, gaze roving across Shen Qingqiu's face.
It irritated him to no end.
"Xiao Jiu?" Yue Qi let out a disbelieving keen. "Xiao Jiu, it's really you?"
"Stupid Qi-ge," snapped Shen Qingqiu. "Who else would curse at you like this?"
It was perhaps a blessing that Shen Qingqiu was an accomplished cultivator and Lord of Qing Jing Peak, for nothing else could have prepared him for the way Yue Qi threw himself into his arms in spite of his restraints. Shen Qingqiu caught him, even if Yue Qi was more broad-shouldered than he was, and found himself an armful of a crying brother.
His old name was a wailing mantra on Yue Qi's lips, and Shen Qingqiu in turn, could not stop himself from burying his face into Qi-ge's neck. Reminiscent of their time on the streets, where Shen Jiu would be the one curled in Yue Qi's embrace — he realized that he did not mind at all the ironic reversal of the past.
Shen Qingqiu rubbed his hands in soothing circles along Yue Qi's back, with a subtle application of qi. He stewed in silence, as Yue Qi's incessant sobs turned to sporadic hitches in his breath, and as his tears and snot soaked into Shen Qingqiu's robes. He stayed silent, as Yue Qi drew himself away slowly, to look at Shen Qingqiu.
Shen Qingqiu met his gaze steadily.
"Xiao Jiu has changed a lot..." Yue Qi said, a crooked smile on his lips. "But Xiao Jiu is still Xiao Jiu in my eyes. That will never change."
Shen Qingqiu scoffed. "Don't go saying ridiculous things. I'm not little anymore."
"Mn, you're not," Yue Qi agreed. "You've grown up well. This Qi-ge is proud."
Yue Qi's grin was as warm as a thousand suns. Shen Qingqiu also felt the beginnings of one himself. For is this not one of the most memorable moments of his life?
To have Qi-ge’s praise, sincere and blinding after all these years of its absent, it was worth more in gold than the luxury that Shen Qingqiu acquired as a Peak Lord.
Qiu Haitang was dead. In exchange, Qi-ge had been brought back to him, barely alive, with a tarnished title not unlike his own.
Just as quickly as it came, Yue Qi's smile faded. His neck bobbed as he swallowed, his gaze became downcast and shoulders became slumped, as if only now realizing the implications of the cables squeezed tight around his body.
As if only now realizing his place.
Shen Qingqiu reached out and felt the tight and strong cable between his fingers.
"Don't."
He paused, feigning ignorance.
"I'm—" Yue Qi's breath hitched, before he continued, "Qi-ge has done some awful things. Some... unforgiveable things and Xiao — Shen Jiu should keep me restrained so that I may not hurt anyone else."
"It's alright. Qi-ge can be forthright with me." Shen Qingqiu leaned closer to him. "But I believe you would not hurt me the way you did with Qiu Haitang.”
"So you know I killed her?" Yue Qi’s voice was small.
“You enjoyed it."
"I'm sorry," Yue Qi whispered hoarsely. "It's — it's only good that Shen Jiu didn't come back for me, after all."
Fuck.
"You—" Shen Qingqiu pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't say that."
"But it's true?" Yue Qi actually sounded confused. "I'm glad that Xiao Jiu didn't. He would've — he would've did terrible things like me. He would've become a monster, too."
Shen Qingqiu wanted to laugh.
"Qi-ge had always been stupidly naive," Shen Qingqiu hissed. "Who's he to say that I didn't do worse things?"
"Murder is unforgiveable—"
"Yet I can't condemn you for it."
"What do you mean you can't? You must," Yue Qi insisted, sounding panicked. "It doesn't matter that you know me. I must be punished. It is only right—"
"You wouldn't have killed her without reason," said Shen Qingqiu. "Tell me."
"Xiao Jiu..."
"Yue Qi."
"Xiao Jiu shouldn't ask questions with answers he wouldn't like to hear."
"I don't care what you think I want to hear,” Shen Qingqiu said, like the liar he was. "I only ask for you to stop talking in meaningless circles and just tell me why you stabbed her to death."
"It is what it looks like. I don't know what you can possibly accomplish from this," Yue Qi said, tiredly. "Having a reason does not justify committing it. And, as far as I can tell, it will certainly not bring me your forgiveness. Which is all that I care for. And why death is the fairest price for my crime."
Qi-ge really didn't know him, did he?
Even so, Shen Qingqiu grabbed him by the lapels of his stupid robes and forced Qi-ge to face him, and him only.
Yue Qi's jaw tightened, but Shen Qingqiu could see his lips trembling. Gradually easing his grip, Shen Qingqiu continued to gaze at him steadily, trying to convey without words that Yue Qi could be the scum among scum, and yet it wouldn't invalidate the debt he'd gained from Qi-ge being Qi-ge.
It wouldn’t matter, because Shen Qingqiu had done the same, if not worse.
"If not forgiveness, then you can grant me this much closure, yes? If you want for me to be the judge of your wrongdoing, then let me."
Shen Qingqiu was many things. He was a desperate slave child, a vengeful murderer, an absent teacher, a conniving sect leader—
"I hated her."
But an apathetic man he was not.
Especially at this moment, where Yue Qi found it a fit price to pay — his life for hers.
(Their lives for his).
And perhaps if Shen Qingqiu were a better man, he would have wasted no time in throwing him down to the Water Prison. If Shen Qingqiu were a better man, he as an upstanding cultivator would not have flown in an explosive rage upon seeing Qiu Jianluo in the flesh, after so many years. If Shen Qingqiu were a better man, he would have come saved Qi-ge earlier, and would not have burnt that manor to the ground for nothing.
If the world had been kinder, perhaps, Shen Qingqiu would have owed fairness to the world, but it thrived on the opposite.
There was a certain feeling — like the rawness of a festering wound that kept on tugging his consciousness everytime his own thoughts drifted back to Qiu Haitang. She had been ignorant yet kind, and Shen Qingqiu paid off for his debts to her, that night when he decided to spare her.
"I hated her," Yue Qi repeated, staring off into nothing. "She was as cruel as her brother."
"Truly?"
"They knew I was the reason you escaped," said Yue Qi. "After you left the manor, that was one of the times that Qiu Jianluo beat me so badly that I wished I was dead.
"I didn't — die, of course. It took a long time to recover — the jiejies pitied me, and helped me in secret — but most of all I was stubborn. And I promised that I would — that I would wait for you. In case you came back."
Shen Qingqiu wanted to say that he did — he did come back, but found himself succumbing to a blind rage that roared like a fire and tasted like metal on his tongue. What use was it to say, anyway?
Wasn’t it better to say he chose not to come back than admit he had come back, but wasn’t fast enough to save him?
"Qiu Jianluo treated me like a pet. And I could stand it. I was used to it, from the moment he took us in. But Qiu Haitang was... She was more affected with your absence. She blamed me, and she wasn't cheap with her anger. She didn't hesitate in making it known to me.”
Absently, Yue Qi’s eyes traveled along his arm, ripped and worn and littered with scars. Irrationally, Shen Qingqiu wanted to peel it off his skin.
"It doesn't matter, anyway. I killed her, I took one step too far and I must — I must be punished for it. I'm only sorry that it is in this way that we are reunited again."
Yue Qi has already condemned himself as the lowliest among the scum. Yet, Shen Qingqiu could not feel anything other than an odd, lukewarm feeling of lightness.
A life for a life.
The suffering of two slave children had hereby been paid.
"How strange. One might reconsider our reunion a miracle in the eyes of the divine."
"It is a miracle that I have placed you in a difficult position?"
"It is a miracle—" Shen Qingqiu grasped on the hilt of Xiu Ya. "—that Qi-ge has found his way back to me, anyway."
***
As the sun fell and Qian Cao Peak turned to a lull, three figures stood in a barren room — staring at an ornate crown not unlike their own, which rested silently on the empty bedding that still harbored dried flecks of brown matter.
Apart from the dirtied basin tucked in the corner of the room, the place was clean, silent, and eerily organized. It couldn't have possibly been the work of a wanted criminal who had successfully abducted the Qing Jing Peak Lord.
"You mean to say that they just left. Just like that?" Qi Qingqi said incredously. She whirled on Liu Qingge furiously. "Liu-shixiong, you—"
"I didn't hear them," said Liu Qingge, gripping the hilt of Cheng Luan. "I didn't know."
"And Shen Qingqiu left willingly?"
"It seems so." Mu Qingfang rubbed his hands together, interlocked them, and sighed. "I had hoped it wouldn't have come to that."
"With all due respect Mu-shixiong, but what the fuck does that even mean—?"