Chapter Text
Mu Qingfang is a very good doctor.
He has been in the medical field for all of his life.
He made sure he got a very full education in… everything he could think of.
His shizun laughed heartily when he first brought it up, but it didn’t take long for him to sober up. “You’re serious about this.”
“Yes. I am.” Mu Qingfang had said.
He needed to know everything - not just a specific medical concentration.
Full of cultivators or not, Cang Qiong Sect was a mountain. Each part of the sect was atop mountain peaks.
Once he became the peak lord of Qian Cao, it would be he who would be in charge, medically.
He didn’t want anyone to have to journey further than another peak to seek medical help.
Be that physically… or mentally.
This is what Mu Qingfang knows:
One. There was an invasion on Qiong Ding Peak while the sect leader was away and while both Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge were cultivating in seclusion within the Ling Xi caves.
Two. Both of those peak lords are now out of seclusion.
Three. Shen Qingqiu sent out a seemingly weak disciple to fight who, from description alone, probably looked like a poisonous mountain in comparison.
Four. That disciple won the match, but sometimes the spoils given to the victor are rotten.
Five. Shen Qingqiu threw himself between his disciple and a spike - imbued with the Without-A-Cure poison - thrown after the fight had already ended, which infected him.
Mu Qingfang had, throughout his life, but especially his time in the sect, learned all that he could.
He went to the medical library any opportunity he had as a disciple.
He went out on excursions to learn and explore on his own and develop beyond what even his shizun could achieve.
Mu Qingfang did not find the cure… to Without-A-Cure.
One thing he does know about it… is that there actually is one, at least according to his research.
He just hasn’t found it yet.
He wishes he had already.
Shen Jiu was not his favourite shixiong.
He tried to get to know him when they were first picked as disciples, tried when they met up by chance, he tried.
He watched Shen Jiu get into scuffles with Liu Qingge and he watched Shen Jiu spew venom at Yue Qingyuan.
He watched Shen Jiu be civil with Qi Qingqi even when she looked at him with suspicion.
He watched Shen Jiu avoid him. He watched Shen Jiu never seek assistance from Mu Qingfang’s peak.
He watched through a window where, by happenstance, Shen Jiu dressed his own wounds and licked them clean himself.
This… this was not Shen Jiu.
Shen Jiu… well, he wouldn’t be in this scenario in the first place, but if he was, he would not have been carried anywhere, much less by Liu Qingge.
He would not have been delicately placed in his bed without kicking, screaming, punching, and cursing.
He would not even let Mu Qingfang approach him if he were injured.
Shen Qingqiu sat up in his bed with a blank look on his face.
Liu Qingge stood at the doorway, arms crossed.
The little disciple Shen Qingqiu had protected hovered near Liu Qingge’s arm, swaying in and out of the threshold in worry and anxiety.
“Shixiong.” Mu Qingfang said, to no reaction. He swallowed. “Shixiong, I want to examine you. Would that be okay?”
Shen Qingqiu blinked heavily, still not looking anywhere in particular. On reflex though, or perhaps some hidden instinct only able to come out when Shen Qingqiu was completely unguarded, his arm extended toward Mu Qingfang.
As if he was both resigned and in need of confirmation regardless.
It was permission.
Mu Qingfang took a deep breath and confirmed what they already knew.
It was indeed Without-A-Cure.
Mu Qingfang took another deep breath and confirmed it out loud.
He heard Liu Qingge exhale heavily through his nose and the little disciple, Luo Binghe, he thinks, choke on a pained cry.
Mu Qingfang looked at Shen Qingqiu.
He said one word. “No.”