Chapter Text
Cang Qiong Mountain in the summer was the absolute worst.
And as a Peak Lord, Qing Jing’s Peak Lord to be exact, they were required to be dressed to the nines all year long, wearing almost three to five pieces of clothing everyday as per custom, with an additional one or two more for formal events. And Shen Qingqiu, who, before he’d transmigrated to Airplane’s shitty stallion novel, was used to the comfy shorts and tank tops he would casually throw on during this time of the year, was at his wits end at the uncomfortable heat melting his skin off.
It was a blessing when night comes to bless their peak with soft winds to cool off from the unforgiving sun. But it was still horribly hot and humid that Shen Qingqiu had to rifle through his big closet of fancy robes every night in search of something comfortable to sleep in. As much as he wanted to sleep naked, Shen Qingqiu was still modest and would not want to wake up to disciples screaming over his nudity when they came to bring him breakfast. Not that Shen Qingqiu ate any of it. And none of them would actually dare to come into his room to wake him up these days. But still. Shen Qingqiu was a Peak Lord of Cang Qiong’s scholarly division and lead strategist, and he will carry that energy wherever and whenever.
In the end, he’d dressed himself that night with the thinnest set of inner robes he could find. But just like every other night, Shen Qingqiu tosses and turns several times before finding a good position that’ll surely send him to dreamland in seconds. And just like every other night, he can’t fall asleep as soundly or as quickly as he’d wanted, his restless mind still thinking about the stupid weather, the blistering sun and its lethal rays of death, the lava that flows freely in every landscape of the Endless Abyss, his poor disciple crossing over oceans of molten magma just to get to a safer region-
Just before the night sends him to another round of nightmares, the room explodes in a sudden burst of frigid air that pulls Shen Qingqiu from the cusp of sleep. Senses going haywire, Shen Qingqiu summons Xiu Ya to his grasp, his heavy, yet wary eyes scrambling around to find the unwelcomed threat invading his room.
See?! This was another reason why he didn’t want to sleep naked! What if the peak was suddenly overrun by beasts and monsters alike and Shen Qingqiu was attacked while he was as naked as a newborn baby?! His face would be obliterated and he would never recover mentally from the shame.
Despite his tense state, Shen Qingqiu is left in bafflement at the cold air biting his skin. It was extremely hot a second ago, and now it felt like an AC was installed and had brought glacial winds in his room. But as quick as the cold temperature had arrived, it disappeared immediately, and the familiar heat returned like nothing happened. Shen Qingqiu was left in silence and confusion, but his eyes remained vigilant for a possible follow up attack.
What the hell was that? The temperature was similar to the cold air that would linger in Shang Qinghua’s office whenever Mobei-jun visited him. But Mobei-jun wasn’t here, nor was Shang Qinghua. And why would they even be here in the first place?
A piercing cry interrupts Shen Qingqiu’s thoughts, and he snaps his head down, startled, at the sudden scream. It was right next to him, there, at the foot of the bed-
What the fuck?
What the fuck?!
Is that a baby?!
Where the fuck did that come from?!
Shen Qingqiu’s grip on Xiu Ya’s hilt loosens, and the sword clatters on the bamboo floor. The crying baby, well, it looks more like a toddler now that he can see clearly, was sitting on the bed with him, its eyes tightly closed while its hands were curled into fists over its eyelids. Shen Qingqiu shouldn’t really call the toddler an it, but it could very much well be some sort of beast disguised as a human baby! Because how the hell did it appear in his room?!
His mind scrambles to find any information he knows of a baby shape-shifting beast or demon, until Shen Qingqiu’s eyes narrow, and he snaps his fingers to ignite the many candles in his room. Lights fill the area, and Shen Qingqiu gets a full picture of what exactly was occupying his bed with him.
It was a toddler. Yes. Probably around a year old, and maybe a few months more? It… or he…? The baby had short black hair, pin-straight from the roots to the middle, but they curled at the tips which reached his ears. He was dressed in a casual, mini-hanfu style set of robes, white with small red motifs on the seams.
He was still crying pitifully, tears running down flushed cheeks like infinite waterfalls, and Shen Qingqiu’s heart broke at the sight. Shapeshifting demon or not, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t let him keep bawling his eyes out like that, ah! That would be too cruel!
“Hey there, little baobao,” Shen Qingqiu says, as calmly and softly as he can despite the urge to cry himself. Because how the hell had he come to this kind of situation? Shen Qingqiu loves kids, he does, he adores the disciples under his instruction, but most of them are usually of the age where all he had to do was teach a few things here and there, and not worry about temper tantrums or crying or snot and all those things that come with babies and toddlers.
Upon hearing his voice, the baby immediately stops weeping, his sobs turning into soft whimpers and hiccups before dropping his little ball-shaped hands. His eyelids opened to reveal, though a bit teary and red from all that crying, a perfect set of dark brown eyes that reminded Shen Qingqiu of his favorite blend of tea, of dark aged wood, and a little bit of… something that prickled his heart.
When those same eyes glance up to look at Shen Qingqiu, the baby let out a tiny gasp, and his frown immediately turned to a wide, relieved smile that revealed a few baby teeth peeking from his gums. The almond-shaped eyes light up like stars, and his arms reach up towards Shen Qingqiu eagerly, his hands opening and closing restlessly as he does so.
And then, the baby coos—
“Mama!”
…
…
…
…
…
Eh?!
Shen Qingqiu’s mouth opened and closed before sputtering.
Little baobao, who are you calling Mama?! Huh?! Does he look like a mother to you?!
“Mama?”
Unfortunately, the baby was not mistaken. When Shen Qingqiu doesn’t respond immediately again, his mind a whirlwind of ‘what the fucks’ repeating over and over again, the baby’s hands slowly fall down, dejected. The sunny smile turns to a frown before twisting to a pout, and his eyes become all watery again.
Shen Qingqiu feels another wail about to leave the kid’s mouth, and he puts a stop to his racing thoughts and consoles the ticking time bomb before he wakes up the entire peak with his qi-rending cries.
“No, no, no— it’s alright, it’s alright, you’re fine. No need to cry,” Shen Qingqiu says, to the baby and to himself. “Does baobao want me to carry him?”
The pitiful look immediately disappears when he catches Shen Qingqiu’s attention. He reaches for the Peak Lord again, nodding his head while making grabby hands. When Shen Qingqiu finally picks him up, the baby’s arms wrap around his neck and his head burrows against his chest before happily sighing in content.
The initial panic and confusion was swiftly replaced by the rush of fondness enveloping his heart. Which was surprising, because why was he suddenly so endeared by a random baby appearing out of nowhere, calling him his mother?! Was he some sort of baby duck? Imprinting on the first thing he sees, ah?
“You must be confused little one,” Shen Qingqiu sighs. “Surely this one is not his mama…”
The baby pulls away briefly to shake his head, then stares up at Shen Qingqiu before pointing a finger at him resolutely.
“Yang-Yang’s Mama.”
“Yang-Yang?”
The boy’s face brightens up and he nods three times, the curls on the tips of his hair bouncing.
He claps his hands, excited. “Yes! Yang-Yang’s Mama!”
Well then…
Now with the candles illuminating his room better, Shen Qingqiu takes a good look at the baby, A-Yang he decides, in his arms. And after seconds of carefully studying his tiny face, dread began to boil at the realization that the boy does look like him. Like a little mini Shen Qingqiu! Dark hair, sharp nose, arched brows; the only thing amiss were his eyes. While Shen Qingqiu’s phoenix eyes were as green as the bamboo on his peak, the baby’s eyes, softer and rounder, had a rich chestnut color that would probably look red if struck alight by the sun.
Shen Qingqiu thinks briefly of Shen Jiu, of how the latter was known for frequenting brothels during ungodly hours and the possibility of a baby being born from a temporary tryst; but that doesn’t make sense. Because Shen Qingqiu has been in this body for the last six years, and Shen Qingqiu himself hasn’t been… entangled with another as far as he knew, so a baby being born at this time was impossible!
Which could only mean one thing—
The baby is from the future.
Shen Qingqiu arrives at this conclusion rather easily, because a time-travelling baby had been one of Proud Immortal Demon Way’s largest plot points that had arcs spanning over dozens and dozens of chapters. To summarise almost fifty chapters of this whole ordeal: one of Bing-ge’s children, whose name he doesn’t even remember, had travelled far back into the past, in a period specifically where both his parents haven’t even met yet.
The reason the baby had time travelled was due to a plant he’d accidentally played with. Of course it was a plant; it’s always a plant. The catalyst for all if not most of the conflict and wifeplots in Airplane’s shitty book was caused by rare and magical plants that were either scarce or hard to find, often requiring Bing-ge to travel high and low in search for the plant they needed in order to save his wife of the week. Those chapters were mostly filled with useless scenes, fillers, and unnecessary papapa to entertain the audience! Airplane wouldn’t be a hack author if he didn’t recycle ideas over and over again.
Anyway, Bing-ge had to save him by going to the past himself where he later finds his son being taken care of by his then-mother. And the whole arc had been all about meeting each other again for the first time, raising their son together, learning that nothing Bing-ge would do in the past will change the future and blah blah blah blah blah. Oh, and of course, the mandatory papapa between the future Bing-ge and the past wife before they returned to Bing-ge’s time period.
It was a mess, but the readers ate it all up! Shen Yuan had hated the premise because of how useless it was. Why didn’t Airplane make it possible for Bing-ge to travel to the past and have the ability to actually change the future? Why go through all of that if the future would still be the same? The whole ‘getting together again’ wasn’t even all that appealing because all they did was papapa the entire time! No other problems or conflicts were solved. No other plot lines emerged. The protagonist simply took a trip down memory lane to do something he does on the regular! And! The baby wasn’t even mentioned again! He was left to the grandparents’ care while his actual parents were fooling around!
Gah, Shen Qingqiu was fuming just from remembering all of this. But this was neither here nor there. Because he had other pressing matters to focus on.
Such as this baby. Who is most likely from the future. Who is most likely his son. Because A-Yang looks so much like him.
But this whole conclusion also doesn’t make sense!
How did he, Shen Qingqiu, resident Scum Villain of Proud Immortal Demon Way, have a son if he was to die in the future? Although the protagonist isn’t set to come back until another two years—which would actually be enough time for a baby to develop in the womb for nine months and grow into a toddler—Shen Qingqiu was in absolutely no position to woo and marry someone quick enough to have a baby with them! If this timeline was correct, then the baby should already be a fetus right now!
And what was all this ‘Mama’ business, ah? Why was Shen Qingqiu the one being called the mother?!
This question was answered by A-Yang in just a few words.
“Mama?” The baby calls out again, shaking Shen Qingqiu from his thoughts.
“Ah, er, yes…?” He wasn’t going to get over being called that, was he?
“Yang-Yang eat,” A-Yang says, letting Shen Qingqiu go to put his hands on his tummy to emphasize. “Want milk.”
Well, that was going to be a problem. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t even have formula or baby bottles lying around, because why would he? The next best thing to do was go to Mu Qingfang, because of course his Mu-shidi will have baby supplies ready and on the go (hopefully), but judging from A-Yang's face, the baby was not in the mood to fly several ke to Qian Cao Peak at this hour. Were they even allowed to hold babies while on sword flight?
Although Shen Qingqiu doesn’t have milk, what he does have is congee, which was probably sitting on the low table in the main living area, delivered by his disciples on routine. A-Yang seemed at the age to eat some soft solids, Shen Qingqiu reckons. For the first time, he hopes his disciples left a preservation talisman over the dinner he was supposed to eat hours ago.
“This master must apologize, but he doesn’t have any milk for A-Yang right now. But I do have some delicious congee.”
By delicious, he means tasteless and watery. A-Yang, please forgive this poor Shen for giving you the slop they make in the kitchens. Shen Qingqiu promises to get you to Mu-shidi this morning so they can figure out what the fuck to do next!
However, A-Yang’s eyebrows furrow at Shen Qingqiu’s suggestion.
He shakes his head. “No. Want milk,” A-Yang protests. Then, he smiles, all gums and baby teeth, and tilts his head, “Please?”
It was enough for Shen Qingqiu’s heart to melt at the cute request. He unconsciously lifts a hand to tuck a stray curl behind A-Yang’s ear.
“I’m afraid we don’t have that right now, A-Yang. You’ll have to eat some congee for now,” Shen Qingqiu says, a smile lifting from his face when he sees the curl he’d just tucked bounce back, stubborn.
Likewise, A-Yang seemed to be stubborn as well, because he crosses his arms in defiance and pulls a pout that was enough to shake Shen Qingqiu’s heart again. His smile only widens at the display.
But it gets wiped off his face in an instant.
“Nooo,” A-Yang whines, and tears pool in his eyes instantly before crying, “Want Mama milk only!”
…
…
…
…
…
What.
Then, to Shen Qingqiu’s mortification, just as he was thinking that maybe the baby must have said it wrong, A-Yang puts a hand over his chest, tugging insistently at his collar.
When both of A-Yang’s hands grab onto the end of his inner robes, pulling and pulling and crying ‘milk!’ multiple times, Shen Qingqiu decides he’s had enough, and grabs the baby by the torso to jerk him away, keeping an arms length space between him and the tiny searching hands.
“No!” Shen Qingqiu screeches, eyes wide, and face flushed in embarrassment at the… the implication that he… that he—!
However, just as he’d pulled A-Yang away, now left suspended in the air, the baby’s face twists to a shock akin to betrayal, as though he didn’t believe Shen Qingqiu would deny him of what he wanted.
And to make matters more worse, the shock on A-Yang’s face was suddenly replaced by utter despair, his features contorting, his face blooming a bright red and his mouth curling to a frown.
Shen Qingqiu braced himself as a piercing wail cut through the quiet peak, reaching up and up all the way to the heavens.
It was not surprising to hear the chaos that was his disciples running to his front door, knocking incessantly and calling for him as if he was the one screaming his lungs out. After A-Yang had woken up the entire peak with his wailing, lights lit up like fireflies in the disciple dorms and soon, Shen Qingqiu had several of his senior disciples sprinting to the bamboo house and wanting to be let in.
Shen Qingqiu almost spit out blood. “A-Yang, no, it’s alright, this master is sorry, he didn’t mean to-”
But A-Yang let out another ear-shattering scream, and it broke Shen Qingqiu’s heart to see him so distressed. He tries and tries to console him like what he would do with his youngest disciples, but it only seems to make it worse because A-Yang shakes his head and pulls on the lapels of his inner robes harder. He tries to say ‘Mama’ but it’s broken by the hiccups and gasps in between sobs.
When A-Yang opens his mouth next, and no sound comes out, his cries turning to a silent wail instead, Shen Qingqiu finally feels everything crash down. He sits more properly on the bed and pulls A-Yang to his lap.
“Shh, shh, A-Yang, Mama is here, Mama’s sorry, okay?” Shen Qingqiu soothes with a soft voice, pushing back the hair that had stuck on A-Yang’s wet cheeks. Shen Qingqiu's own face was as red as A-Yang's, but he soldiers on. “Mama’s sorry for yelling, so don’t cry, alright?”
Miraculously, A-Yang’s loud cries gradually lessen, turning to small whimpers and hiccups instead. Shen Qingqiu continues to comfort him, rubbing a hand over A-Yang’s back to calm the tremors shaking his tiny body. And when the baby looks up at him with red eyes, tears still fresh on his cheeks, and his lungs stealing gasping breaths, Shen Qingqiu feels like the most terrible person to ever walk on Earth.
While Shen Qingqiu was still reeling from the fact that he was going to be a mo—a mothe—a parent in the future, here was A-Yang all confused and distressed, wondering why his parental figure was suddenly being so distant and cruel instead of calming him down and soothing his cries.
Shen Qingqiu sighs and brushes the baby’s bangs away to clean his face. He pulls a handkerchief and dabs A-Yang’s cheeks and forehead while he sniffs and looks at Shen Qingqiu helplessly.
“Why don’t we make a deal?” Shen Qingqiu asks, a smile finding itself on his face again. “If A-Yang eats one bowl of congee—” A-Yang makes a sound to protest, but Shen Qingqiu lightly pinches his cheek. “You didn’t let me finish. If A-Yang eats some congee right now, then he can have some milk later. How does that sound?”
A-Yang pouts, but Shen Qingqiu can see the tiny gears already spinning in his brain, a sign he was thinking about. Ah, such a smart boy! His thinking face was absolutely adorable!
“Okay, Mama,” A-Yang agrees, and Shen Qingqiu feels his soul leave his body in relief. “Promise?”
So many words in his vocabulary, ah! Although his r’s sounded like w’s, the ‘promise’ sounding like ‘pwomise’, Shen Qingqiu could not fault him, instead, he found himself utterly endeared.
(Ah future me… you’ve raised such a smart and spoiled child! I don’t know whether to laugh or cry…)
“Yes, Mama promises,” Shen Qingqiu chuckles, and his efforts are rewarded by A-Yang's wide smile. Inspiration seems to strike him, because he leans down and kisses A-Yang's forehead. It earned him a giggle and a hug, and A-Yang was back to being all smiley and animated, like he didn't just have a meltdown a few seconds ago.
Now that A-Yang's cries weren't filling his ears, Shen Qingqiu hears multiple voices and whispers instead, reminding him that there were still disciples right outside his house.
“Eh, it stopped?”
“That's it, I'm going in.”
“Ning-shimei! We can't just go in—”
“But it's Shizun! What if that was him?!”
“I'm pretty sure that was a baby we all just heard crying…”
“Exactly! What if Shizun ate something bad and it turned him into a baby?!
“Ah, I see… in that case, it's Da-shixiong's fault! He made Shizun's lunch this morning!”
“Yeah! He was putting random things thinking it would taste better!”
“Shut up! Shizun didn't even eat the congee I made!”
“Hmp,” A-Yang harrumps, his hands lifting to cover his ears.
Shen Qingqiu resists the urge to roll his eyes. “They're very loud aren't they, A-Yang?”
A-Yang nods and then places his head over Shen Qingqiu's chest. “Yi-yi loud.”
“Yi-yi?” Shen Qingqiu wonders, and he turns to the shouting outside to hear Ning Yingying's voice an octave higher than the rest.
“All of you shut up! I'm going to come in whether you like it or not! Shizun! It's Yingying! This disciple apologizes for the intrusion!”
Another sigh escapes Shen Qingqiu's lips. There was no more hiding this, was there? And here he thought he could have a few more hours to plan out his next steps…
“Well, let's go and see your Yi-yi before she breaks Mama's door.”
Shen Qingqiu didn’t know how his night had turned into this. Despite his leniency when it comes to teaching, he still strived for his disciples to maintain order and decorum around his peak. Yes, sometimes they were a bunch of little shits, often disobeying their master from time to time, idling about when they thought he wasn’t looking, or scheming together behind his back.
Despite it all, his disciples were extremely loyal and were oddly protective of him for some unknown reason. Which was embarrassing, because who was the master here, ah? Why are all of his disciples treating him like some sheltered maiden that’s never set a foot out in the real world?
Maybe he was being too soft on them. According to Liu Qingge, he doesn’t punish or discipline his students enough. Even Shang Qinghua says his peak had transformed into a kindergarten filled with unruly and spoiled children that ran around causing trouble and mischief.
And wasn’t that a blow to his ego? And here he thought he’d perfected his poser act! Was he really that lenient in his techniques? It’s not like his disciples were rude or disobedient. They did as they were told, attended their classes regularly, and completed all their chores around the peak. If there comes a time where Shen Qingqiu does need to discipline his students, he would either make them copy a whole cultivation manual back to back and word for word overnight, or make them run laps around the peak. And that was enough to teach them a lesson! Really! There was no need for harsher punishments, Liu-shidi!
And not to forget the fact that they were just kids. Even with the strict routines and tight schedules, as required by sect rules, Shen Qingqiu still often allowed them a day or two where they could just relax and do whatever they wanted. Which, to everyone else’s surprise, was actually quite helpful! Shen Qingqiu saw how his disciples excelled and steadily improved their cultivation over the years because, yes, giving them actual time to just be kids and take a break from their classes would be a big factor in their overall growth.
Shen Qingqiu was actually pretty proud of himself for bringing this change. Although his disciples were scholarly, yes, as expected of them, they were also nosy gossipers and stuck their noses in their shizun’s business like dogs over a bone. When he says he’s not hungry, they still come in every morning, noon, and night to bring him food; when he says he’s tired and wants to be alone, he always finds a disciple stationed by his door like some sort of body guard; and when he decides to leave the mountain to just have some time by himself, one of them is already sprinting to either Liu Qingge or Yue Qingyuan as if he was running away for good!
Really, when had his disciples become so stubborn? Who was your Shizun here, huh?! Who gave them the audacity to go behind his back?!
Even right now, when Shen Qingqiu finally let them in and explained A-Yang’s situation, instead of being the good disciples they are and returning to the dorms to get some sleep, they barge inside to coo and play with the baby for the rest of the morning! They’d even gone to the kitchens to prepare a new bowl of plain congee for A-Yang to eat!
A-Yang was reluctant to eat it, but because Shen Qingqiu had made a promise, he dutifully ate all the spoonfuls of congee Shen Qingqiu fed him. The whole thing was awfully cute, and even if he was embarrassed, being called ‘Mama’ right in front of his disciples—who, by the way, were giving each other side glances and whispering god knows what—Shen Qingqiu was too endeared by A-Yang to care. Despite knowing he could throw the biggest tantrums known to man, A-Yang was an absolute angel and had the cutest giggles!
When A-Yang was done eating, now full and energised, he decided he wanted to play despite the odd hour, and Shen Qingqiu’s usual calm and serene bamboo house was turned into a playground. Shen Qingqiu fondly watched as A-Yang chased—he could walk already!—after Ning Yingying across the main room.
It seemed A-Yang was still getting used to his legs, because he’d often trip and fall over his own feet, but instead of crying and making a fuss, he picks himself back up and proceeds to chase (wobble) after his disciples, his laughter and squeals filling the usual quiet home with life and warmth that Shen Qingqiu dolefully realises had been missing.
Shen Qingqiu checks the sky and sees a tinge of orange already peeking from the horizon, and he decides he needs to end playtime now, else the hallmasters will blame him for the sleepy disciples in their classes.
“Alright, A-Yang, that’s enough. Yingying and everyone else needs to go back so they can be up and ready for their classes this morning,” Shen Qingqiu announces, and the baby turns to him with a pout. Shen Qingqiu pretends he doesn’t see his disciples sulking as well. “A-Yang needs to go to sleep too. How else will he play again with Yi-yi later?”
“Sleep now? Mama only?” A-Yang babbles and then looks around, his eyes trying to find something around the room.
“Yes?” Shen Qingqiu cocks his head to the side, a bit confused.
As if he wasn’t restless enough, A-Yang continues to peer around, and then suddenly runs around the house, attracting everyone’s attention. They watch and chuckle as the toddler waddles from room to room in search of something. Shen Qingqiu follows him as he goes, intrigued by the child’s sudden bout of energy and determination to find whatever his mind had conjured up.
When A-Yang was done circling in the kitchen, he returned to Shen Qingqiu with another pout before putting his arms up, asking to be held. Shen Qingqiu reaches down to pull him to his arms, tucking another stubborn curl behind his ear.
“What is A-Yang looking for?” He asks.
But he wasn’t ready for his baby’s response.
“Die-die,” A-Yang answers and tugs on a strand of Shen Qingqiu’s hair. “Mama, where Die-die?”
…
…
…
…
…
You know what, Shen Qingqiu’s had enough surprises already. He’ll compartmentalize this for now and worry about it in the morning. That is a problem for future him to solve.
“Alright, I think it’s time we all get back to bed,” Shen Qingqiu clears his throat and turns to the (whispering/gossiping) disciples in the main room. “This master will see all of you later this morning.”
He says this with his Shizun voice, so everyone in the room immediately obey. They stand to their feet quickly and shuffle out of the bamboo house one by one, but not without turning around to bow before Shen Qingqiu and wave goodbye to A-Yang, who coos and waves back at them.
When he turns back to Shen Qingqiu, the Peak Lord interrupts him before another word has a chance to leave his lips, “Let’s go to sleep, hm? I’m sure A-Yang is tired.”
“But, Mama—”
Shen Qingqiu’s going to need to visit Mu Qingfang first thing in the morning.