Chapter Text
"You're such an idiot!"
Angrily, desperately, Shen Jiu tried to stop the bleeding on his brother's side. He was pressing down with all the strength he had and all of his weight, but Shen Jiu had not eaten anything in the last two days and that happened more often than not anyways. So there wasn't a lot of either to begin with.
If he'd been the kind of person to despair, he would have feared it might not be enough. But if Shen Jiu was one thing, then it was tenacious.
Yuan-ge, the absolute fool that he was, dared to let out a somewhat strained laugh. "I know, I know," he muttered. Shen Jiu absolutely refused to think about how tired his brother suddenly sounded.
Seriously, Shen Yuan was the older one! Why was it always Shen Jiu taking care of his brother and protecting him? Wasn't that supposed to be the other way around?
Green eyes, the colour of vibrant jade, crinkled at the edges as Yuan-ge smiled at Shen Jiu. "I'll be better next time. If I'm quicker, then I won't be hurt."
Next time. Next time was good. If there was a next time, that meant Yuan-ge would still be here. Right next to Shen Jiu. Then again, he never wanted to be in this type of situation ever again. He did not want this world to keep turning without his precious gege in it.
"Just don't do it next time," Shen Jiu ended up scoffing, a shaky hand reaching for the sowing kit they'd hidden in their cell a while ago. It was supposed to be for mending clothes, not for mending skin. But it was better than nothing. "It's not worth it."
It really wasn't. When he'd found his brother earlier, barely avoiding arrows being shot at him, Shen Jiu had almost had a heart attack. The young masters had hit him only once, but they'd laughed about it. Apparently they'd offered a loaf of fresh bread and a thick blanket in exchange for the dirty slave-boy to be their life target. The worst of it was that it hadn't been them approaching Yuan-ge but the other way around.
"But didi was hungry," Yuan-ge sighed, as though that was a good reason for his utter lack of self preservation, "And didi was also cold. How can a bit of blood not be worth it?"
It was a lot of blood, actually. A scary amount.
"I don't want it," Shen Jiu couldn't help but snap, blinking his tears away as he disinfected the needle in the flame of their only candle. He had no idea whether than actually helped, but Qi-ge had once said it did. And if there was any chance it made Yuan-ge's survival more likely, then Shen Jiu would do it. "Food or blankets like that, payed for in blood. What good is that?"
"It's good for not starving," Yuan-ge had the nerve to joke, "Or freeze. I have to make sure at least one of us survives, right?"
Shen Jiu felt a little satisfied when Yuan-ge hissed loudly as he took the cloth away from his wound. Wiping his bloodied hand on it so the needle wouldn't slip, Shen Jiu did his best to make the stitches as even and as sturdy as he could. Yuan-ge whimpered, and that hurt a lot more than his empty stomach or the winter cold fingers he would have soon ever could.
"We're both going to survive," Shen Jiu decided stubbornly, "I'll make sure of it. And if not, I'll make sure the world pays for taking you away from me."
Yuan-ge obviously did not believe Shen Jiu. But that was alright. He would find a way to prove his brother wrong, because Shen Jiu was apparently the smarter one of them. Obviously, if Yuan-ge did stupid shit like this. Damnit.
"Love you, too, didi," Yuan-ge muttered, absently patting Shen Jiu's head. If his needlework grew steadier after this, then that was between Shen Jiu and the probably still contaminated needle.
Dead.
That was the only word that echoed through Shen Jiu's head, again and again.
Dead. His brother was dead. Gone. Dead and gone. And even his body was too broken to properly see his features. All the subtle differences between their faces, erased from this world in a single, cruel instance.
Shen Jiu had been too late.
Shen Yuan was dead.
If Shen Jiu had been a bit quicker, just enough to plead for Yuan-ge's life…
Or if he'd been a more obedient slave and didn't get his gege's legs broken, if that beast that had bought them hadn't liked to punish Shen Jiu by watching his precious brother get hurt…
If only Qi-ge had come back like he'd promised, or if Shen Jiu had never helped Qi-ge at all and hadn't even gotten himself noticed by that monster…
But if did not help him now. Shen Yuan had been beaten to death and his face had been mutilated by burns from a hot fire poker, probably while he'd till been alive. And now Yuan-ge was dead and Shen Jiu was still here, and somewhere in the background the monster was laughing.
Shen Jiu felt something inside of himself tear into pieces. It might have been his heart, or his conscience or maybe even the spiritual root that had been found in both of them. He did not know what it was, nor what he was doing after that. He just knew this entire wretched house was going to burn.
The thing was, Shen Jiu knew the traveling cultivator that had offered to take him in was evil. He had no idea how, but his brother had always known what to look for in order to tell. He had taught Shen Jiu, of course.
So the moment he'd met the man, Shen Jiu had known. But at first he'd been their best shot of leaving that hellhole - and then Shen Jiu just didn't care anymore. He probably wouldn't be very happy apprenticing under a demonic cultivator. But would he ever be happy again anyways? He felt Yuan-ge's absence like a wound, every single moment of every day.
Shen Jiu had not smiled in almost a year now. He'd never smiled much to begin with, but the very idea of smiling was nauseating ever since holding his gege's cooling corpse in his arms. Whenever he came across something he just knew Yuan-ge would have loved, it hurt so much Shen Jiu felt like destroying it and then screaming until the empty, bleeding hole in his soul was filled with anger again.
Sometimes, for short moments in time, he almost thought he saw Yuan-ge in the corner of his eye. But when he turned it was always his own reflection, caught in some material or the other. And then he was torn between mutilating his own face until nobody could ever compare it to Yuan-ge's beauty again, and investing hours upon hours in his appearance to bring out everything Yuan-ge could have become.
Shen Jiu was miserable under Wu Yanzi. Wu Yanzi - whom he refused to call shizun in the confines of his own mind - was a horrible person. He conducted experiments on Shen Jiu, he tormented him and harmed his spiritual veins on purpose. But the pain of that was no match to the never ending grief of Yuan-ge's absence.
His life felt like a punishment for his failings.
Shen Jiu would kill Wu Yanzi. He'd decided on that a while ago, and this mission was the perfect opportunity for it. They were infiltrating the immortal alliance conference and Wu Yanzi would be occupied. There was enough qi there that he wouldn't notice Shen Jiu taking off the pendant, which he still thought Shen Jiu didn't know was a cultivation item that stoped him from accessing most of his qi.
Shen Jiu would be not only the culprit of a qi-deviation induced mass murder but also of a premeditated murder. He did not care about that. The cultivators of the four great sects would find him and he'd probably be convicted as a demonic cultivator. He did not care about that, either.
Shen Yuan would have never allowed a man like Wu Yanzi to roam free and kill children. And Shen Yuan was not here to stop him. If Shen Jiu didn't do it in his stead, he would be betraying his brother's memory. That he cared about very much.
So the entire time Qu Yanzi tried to hide from the sect masters, Shen Jiu waited for an opportunity to stab the man.
It presented itself when Wu Yanzi was finally trying to kill the first disciples he'd come across. The funny thing was that no matter how strong someone's cultivation foundation was, a knife plunged through the back right into the heart would definitely kill them. It was so easy that Shen Jiu almost wanted to laugh.
Shen Yuan would have laughed. Yuan-ge would have let out a delighted, slightly hysteric laugh and cheered in relief that it had actually worked.
"What…?"
The voice had Shen Jiu's head snapping up immediately. Not because he'd forgotten there was someone else there, but because he knew that voice. Turning around, he saw a familiar face. It was older than he remembered, but it was undeniably the same person.
He was alive. Yue Qi was alive. And he was here. He'd actually managed to become a disciple at a great sect! He'd done it. That was… wow. Shen Jiu had honestly thought the guy had died when he hadn't ever come back.
But then… "…Why?"
Shen Jiu only noticed he'd asked that aloud when Qi-ge flinched. Instead of explaining what had happened, however, the older boy just looked at Shen Jiu, almost like he was seeing a ghost.
"Xiou Jiu? Is it really you?"
"Mm." Nodding, Shen Jiu stepped closer. He had not minded the blood on his hands before, but now he felt overly conscious of it as he approached who used to be his closest friend. "Qi-ge. You're alive."
"I- Yes. And so are you." Qi-ge came closer as well. He didn't care about the grime or the blood all over Shen Jiu, reaching out to gently grasp his shoulders. His eyes were big in wonder still. "Is Xiou Yuan…?"
And just like that, the unbearable pain of his new reality crashed back into Shen Jiu's chest. Blinking away tears, he could only shake his head. He would not suffer the indignity of his voice breaking right now. Even if Yuan-ge had been the one person who deserved Shen Jiu's tears.
For a moment, Shen Jiu only allowed himself to be examined. But when Qi-ge moved to hug him, Shen Jiu stepped back. He could not handle a hug right now, not right after the revelation that Qi-ge had not, in fact, died. Not right after he'd had to admit his failings in keeping his brother alive. Even if the hurt look Qi-ge send him was as good as a slap to the face.
Yuan-ge would've never elicited that kind of expression in anyone he cared about.
"Where…? You were at Cang Qiong?" Because those robes were very clearly those of an inner Qiong Ding Peak disciple, so he must have gotten into Cang Qiong. Swallowing, Shen Jiu drew his eyebrows together. "Why didn't you come back for us?"
To Shen Jiu's utter horror, Qi-ge could only turn his head away in obvious guilt. "…I'm sorry."
No. No! Qi-ge, Yue Qi had been their one friend whom both Shen Jiu and Yuan-ge had always trusted. He'd promised to come back for them. He'd promised to come back for them.
There had to be a reason why he couldn't. A mission, or an illness or some stupid sect rule about never leaving that he hadn't figured out how to work around yet. Something. Anything. Because Yue Qi had promised to come back for them.
"Yue Qi," Shen Jiu said, and he wasn't sure whether his voice sounded desperate or cold when it came out, wasn't even sure which he would have preferred, "Tell me why you didn't come back."
But Yue Qi only closed his eyes, face twisted in a grimace. "I am so sorry, Xiou Jiu."
No.
He wouldn't.
"Yue Qi," Shen Jiu repeated, and this time his voice was definitely cold and sharp, "My twin brother died in that hellhole. I deserve to know why. What happened?"
Something must have happened, surely. There was no way he had just… just forgotten about them or something.
He wouldn't!
He wouldn't.
And yet, all Yue Qi did was take a shaky breath and shake his head. "…Forgive me."
Rage bubbled up inside Shen Jiu. "Forgive you?" he spat, "My brother died, and he did so thinking you would either come save him or had died trying. And now you just stand here and, what, tell me you've just forgotten about him? About us?"
Yue Qi flinched like he'd been hit, looking at Shen Jiu with sad, helpless, guilty eyes. "I've failed you, I know. Both of you. I… Xiao-"
"Don't," Shen Jiu hissed, "call me that. Don't you ever call me that again!"
Before Shen Jiu could see whether the tears in Yue Qi's eyes would actually spill over, someone hurried towards them. Two people. A tall man with chestnut brown hair in the same colours Yue Qi now adorned himself with and a beautiful woman in jade green robes. Both wore the hair crowns of the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect's Peak Lords.
The man hurried over to Yue Qi and looked him over, asking concerned questions. The woman, on the other hand, looked at Shen Jiu and the corpse of Qu Yanzi.
"The demonic cultivator Wu Yanzi is dead," she calmly observed.
"Mm."
She tilted her head. "You were the one who did this?"
He was sure that it had been transmitted if they had noticed the demonic cultivator's breach. So, as there was no need to deny it, he gave a smile nod to that as well. "Mm."
She raised an eyebrow. "Quite the feat. Many tried before you. All of them died." When Shen Jiu only shrugged, he huffed out half a laugh and smiled at him. She was beautiful, he noted distantly. Like a black swan. "I do not recognise you. What is your name? And what sect are you from?"
"Shen Jiu. No sect," he introduced himself to her, and for some reason that made her sapphire eyes light up even more, dark red lips stretching into a bigger smile.
"No sect, huh?" She leaned down toward him, retrieving a light green silk handkerchief Shen Jiu was pretty sure had cost more than he and his brother combined. For some reason, she used it to wipe some of the blood splattered on Shen Jiu's face away. "I do believe I would like to change that. Shen Jiu, will you become my disciple?"
Shen Jiu had no place left to return to. He had nobody left, because apparently Yue Qi was a traitor and Qi-ge the way they'd known him had never really existed at all. He had nothing to lose anymore, and everything to gain. So he took a breath and steeled his spine. "Yes," he said, "I would like that."
"Just look at him! He's so obsessed with himself."
Shen Jiu ignored the voice of his shijie behind himself. He was too occupied with his reflection. The jade bracelet he'd purchased from a street vendor during a mission a few days prior had the exact same shade of green that gege's eyes used to have. Shen Jiu's own eyes were an inky black, dark and unwelcoming like the depths of the sea. This shade of green had been the only thing to truly separate his appearance from gege's.
Right now, holding that bracelet up next to his eyes, Shen Jiu could almost imagine what gege would have looked like. The green of the disciple robes would have matched his eyes beautifully, and Yuan-ge's smile would have made them look so much softer than they did on Shen Jiu's body. His hair was growing in healthy, now that he could care for it and that he wasn't suffering from malnourishment anymore.
Shen Jiu tilted his head slightly. Yuan-ge would have made a great cultivator, he thought. He had always been able to grasp complicated concepts quickly. He'd been the one learning how to read and write during their time in that hellhole and he'd been the one to teach Shen Jiu. He would have loved it here.
"Mm. Did you see earlier today? During art class, I mean."
A third girl, that one a shimei if Shen Jiu wasn't mistaken, snorted. "He painted a portrait of himself, right?"
"Ah!" the first girl gasped, "The teacher said to showcase our impression of beauty, right? Tsk. So vain…"
That wasn't right. He'd painted Yuan-ge, actually. The eyes were green and the face was smiling brightly. The hair was done up in a high ponytail rather than Shen Jiu's preferred half-down hairstyle, too. But he had painted his brother wearing a stylised version of the Qing Jing Peak uniform and the background had been the bamboo forest Shen Jiu just knew his brother would have adored.
If he was here, would Shen Yuan be using make-up? Probably not, but he would have looked pretty with it. Just a little colour around the eyes, maybe. A hint of gold at the outer corner of the eyes, perhaps. Only if Shen Jiu would have encouraged it, though. Yes, that would have suited him well. Shen Jiu wondered what it would look like. He could get some of the pigment from the jiejies at the Red Lotus Pavilion next time he visited. On him, with his dull eyes, it would probably look like a bad imitation, but Shen Jiu liked to pretend sometimes that it was his gege whom he took care of.
He ignored the door to the shared common room of the dormitories opening, even when he found a familiar figure in the mirror. Shizun, unfortunately, did not care that he was busy tracing the features of his face to fill in the holes in the knowledge of his brother that shouldn't exist. She came right up to him to set a gentle hand down on his shoulder.
"Shen Jiu," she spoke, her voice soft but stern as it always was, her face unreadable but her touch comforting, "We need to talk. Come walk with me."
Shen Jiu's eyes left his face to meet her gaze in the mirror. "Now?"
She did not say anything, just nodded and turned to walk ahead. Shen Jiu sighed, unwilling to leave the mirror behind but knowing he couldn't be disobedient. Shizun was kind, but she had no reserves about punishing misdemeanours. And taking a walk with her was easy enough of a task.
He still strangely felt as though he was leaving Yuan-ge behind, trapped inside the mirror.
Shizun walked towards the bamboo forest, and Shen Jiu followed silently. He never felt like talking much, and especially not after reminiscing about Yuan-ge. Shizun knew as much. She was the only one who knew about Yuan-ge, and only because nothing could be hidden from her. Shen Jiu had not told her about his past, but she had investigated where her new student had come from. Surprisingly, she had remained kind even knowing there was an enslaved street rat sullying her peak. It was a strange feeling.
"This master is worried about Jiu-er," she finally said, "Jiu-er painted another portrait of his brother, didn't he? This master feels Jiu-er's grief is starting to develop into obsession, and she fears that path will only lead to pain."
Shen Jiu remained silent for a long moment. He knew Shizun would wait for his thoughts to be sorted out, though she probably also knew the main reason he wasn't speaking was the lump in his throat.
"Shizun," he finally whispered, "would have liked Yuan-ge very much."
"Mm." Shizun did not look at him. "This Shizun believes her disciple. But she favours her smart and capable Jiu-er a lot, too. Will her disciple not allow this master a bit peace of mind?"
Shen Jiu swallowed. "I will not heal," he forced out, tears blurring his vision, "I will not forget him, and I will not move on, either. I refuse to."
Shizun sighed. "How sad. Your gege must be so heartbroken to hear Jiu-er's words, no?"
Shen Jiu scoffed. He should not scoff at Shizun, he knew. Still, he could not help it when he was faced by such obvious manipulation. "If Yuan-ge is so unhappy with how I live my life," he spat, "he can come back here as a ghost and tell me himself."
Shizun stopped to turn around, her eyes fixed on Shen Jiu's face. She was searching for something. He didn't know what it was, but he knew that it was not there. Today was one of the days he was empty except for the painful, brother-shaped hole in his heart, after all.
"It cannot go on like this, Jiu-er. Something must be done."
Shen Jiu cared for Shizun. She was kind to him, and her presence soothed the frayed nerves he always carried around with himself. Her presence was clam and unobtrusive and safe - but he couldn't muster the decency to feel guilty for making her sound so very hurt. So he only shook his head. "I do not want to be happy."
Not without him.
Again, Shizun sighed deeply. "Jiu-er…" She bit her lip, a bit of her lipstick smearing onto her teeth. "You are capable, truly. Your cultivation has advanced quickly and your mind is formidable. The Peak Lord of our Qing Jing Peak must be the strategist of the sect, and I have never had a disciple I could imagine in that position as I do you. I want Jiu-er to become my head disciple and successor. But before that, you need to remember what it is to look outside of your memories. There is a whole world waiting for Jiu-er."
"That world was waiting for Yuan-ge, too," Shen Jiu insisted. "And he won't ever get to experience it either."
Shizun pursed her lips, looking to the side for a long moment. After a while, she seemed to come to a conclusion. Nodding to herself, she turned back to Shen Jiu, placing both her hands on his shoulders and meeting his eyes. "Very well. Then, this master wants Jiu-er to explore all the things Shen Yuan would have liked to experience for him. This master will provide Jiu-er with ink and paper, and she will task Jiu-er with telling Shen Yuan about the world. Write letters to him every night. If you burn them, Shen Yuan will surely receive them."
Shen Jiu opened his mouth to object again, but found he could not. It was silly, the idea that burnt paper would make any difference at all. It was wasteful, and the child that had grown up begging for scraps and rarely receiving any for days sobbed at the thought. However, the idea that Yuan-ge could possibly read the offered letters, the faint possibility of reestablishing a bond to his twin, was much too sweet a lure to pass up.
Willingly, Shen Jiu walked into Shizun's trap. "Mm. This one can do so."
The smile Shizun offered him was much too relieved. "Good. Jiu-er will begin this evening, then. Tell your brother that you will become a peak lord in the future. It will make him proud, yes?"
Liu Mingzhu was a brainless brute. A well-meaning brute, yes, but a brute nonetheless. Liu Mingzhu was judgemental, overly righteous and completely unconcerned with the waves his comments caused. He saw something, made his - mostly prejudiced - assumptions and immediately took action.
Qi Xihe was an arrogant gossip who cared about her face more than she cared about the truth. Her arrogance, as loath as Shen Jiu was to admit it, was not born out of pure vanity but rather from actual strength she had earned for herself as well as been born into. She was also a misandrist, which Shen Jiu could reluctantly respect her for.
Mu Wenlin was kind and patient on the surface, but he was also quietly judging all his martial siblings' life choices. Shen Jiu could not begrudge him as much, seeing as he himself did so as well. They had different reasons, however. Shen Jiu did it because all of them seemed to be idiots. Mu Wenlin did it because they were not careful enough about their health, which in turn gave him more work to do.
Yue Qi was, of course, a traitor who still owed Shen Jiu an explanation. So to Shen Jiu he was already walking on thin ice because he was just so… there all the time.
The list went on after that, but the point was that all the other head disciples were headaches - and Shen Yuan would have absolutely adored them. Especially that brute.
Shen Jiu could not help but hate them for it. Why did they get to laugh and be happy? Their life would surely have been much better with Yuan-ge in it, too. More chaotic, yes, but better. So how dare they be happy when they never even got to know Yuan-ge? How dare they smile and laugh with each other like that despite Shen Jiu being the twin in their midst and not Shen Yuan?
It wasn't fair.
Shen Jiu also knew that he himself was not being fair in harbouring these feelings. He still couldn't keep himself from sneering or sending glares their way whenever they laughed too much.
"Shidi is being too loud," he told Liu Mingzhu when he finally snapped and asked what Shen Jiu's issue was, "It is grating on this ones nerves."
Naturally, the brute bristled at that. "How dare- Not everyone can be as anti-social as you are!"
"Not everyone can talk before even formulating a thought, either," Shen Jiu scoffed behind a fan. Yuan-ge would have liked that fan, so he had taken to carrying it around with himself. "And yet there shidi is, making his talents everybody else's problem."
More was said after that. Shen Jiu did not pay attention, just met his shidi's venom with his own poisonous words. It was Liz Mingzhu who threw the first punch, of course. Shen Jiu, raised on the street in midst of the filth and the scum and forever unable to disentangle his roots from that, clawed and punched and bit back.
Each of them was grabbed and seperated by their respective shizun, in the end. "What do you think you're doing, punching a martial sibling like that?" Liu Mingzhu's shizun hissed. Shen Jiu's shizun only glared at him. "You are disgracing yourself, Shen Jiu."
It was much later, on top of Shizun's sword after an annoying trip to Qian Cao and therefore away from prying eyes and ears, that she spoke sincerely to again: "You must make an effort to get along with them."
Shen Jiu couldn't help but scoff. "They judge me for so much as breathing."
"They judge because they do not know who you are. Have you ever tried to explain your actions?"
He had. Not to them, but to enough people to know how that would end. He'd tried to explain to the guards when he'd been accused of steeling, he'd tried to explain to the slavers when he'd been desperate to save his gege from a fever, he'd tried to explain to the other slaves when they accused him of taking advantage of Yue Qi and his own brother, and he'd tried to explain to the Qiu household when he'd suffered there. But all his explanations, all his pleading had only ever ended one way. And Shen Jiu had not enough energy to go through that again.
"I do not need to justify myself," Shen Jiu finally said aloud, "It's useless, and I didn't do anything wrong anyway. If they want to judge, they will do so regardless of my side."
"Ah, but you do not know that. Not unless you make an effort," Shizun insisted. When Shen Jiu only remained mum beside her, she interpreted it correctly and sighed once again. He made Shizun sigh a lot. Did it make him an unfilial disciple that he didn't care about it? "They are your martial family, Jiu-er. One day, they'll be the only people you can rely on."
Sighing himself, Shen Jiu managed to leave his urge to roll his eyes unacted upon. "Perhaps…"
He felt Shizun stiffen. "Well, I know that tone, Jiu-er. What is the matter, then? Are they reminding you of Shen Yuan? Or do you think they would have disliked him?"
Shen Jiu shook his head automatically. "Nobody could have disliked Yuan-ge. He was perfect."
Unfortunately, Shizun gave him the time and space to actually answer her query. In the end, hen Jiu saw no reason why he shouldn't tell her the truth. So he ended up confessing: "He would have liked that brute. That's exactly the type he would have made friends with, and I would have had to fend the brute off from courting Yuan-ge. Yuan-ge would have mellowed him out, I think."
"So you are punishing him for remaining unchanged by your dead brother's presence." It sounded silly when she said it like that. Probably because Shen Jiu tended to be quite silly when it came to his brother.
Shizun sighed. "You know I will have to punish you for getting into that fight?"
"Of course," Shen Jiu nodded. Because despite being favoured by his shizun, Shen Jiu had no illusions about being treated differently than the other disciples. Shizun was too smart and too good a person for that.
Still, she sighed. "Was it worth it?"
Shen Jiu thought about the slit lip and the blue eye he'd left the brute with and couldn't help the feral smirk that graced his lips, all the uncouth scum he was at heart. "Of course."
Shen Jiu stared at the book he was holding, hands trembling. This was…
The sect had confiscated the cultivation books of a demonic cultivator that had been executed not long ago and the head disciples were currently looking through his artefacts to make sure nothing dangerous would be left unattended. It was one of the more boring chores, usually. An Ding was in charge of it and Qiong Ding of course had to participate to be kept aware, and as the strategists of the sect Qing Jing had to be here as well.
The book Shen Jiu had found was everything but boring.
Breath hitching, he carefully thumbed through the pages. It was old, many of the pages either ripped or missing entirely. But there was no mistaking what this was.
If Shen Yuan was here, he would have yelled at Shen Jiu for so much as considering to look further into this. But he wasn't here, and that was precisely the reason why he needed to. This ritual was, after all, renown for having revived the Yiling Patriarch. It was effective, Shen Jiu knew that much, but it had been destroyed by the man himself again.
This was dark magic. Really dark magic. The kind where Shen Jiu would find himself on trial just for hiding this book away. To do what he needed to, for the plan he'd just come up with, he would have to restore and actually work on it.
He could do it. Despite his weak cultivation base and the many set backs his qi-deviations had thrust upon him, Shen Jiu knew he could do this. Secretly, alone, away from anyone who could possibly stop him.
Carefully, quietly, Shen Jiu slipped the broken book into the sleeve of his uniform. He wasn't sure whether it was cursed or it was just his own imagination, but he could have sworn it was burning a hole into his skin. He was not careless enough to check.
"Anything on your end, Shen-Shixiong?"
Shen Jiu turned to look at the mousy head disciple of An Ding, narrowing his eyes. The guy was strange, he thought. His timidness wasn't real, Shen Jiu knew that much, but the cunning little rat hadn't actually done anything yet. Besides, Yuan-ge would have hated him, Shen Jiu was sure, so that made him more bearable than Liu Mingzhu for example. He still didn't trust the guy, however.
"No," Shen Jiu lied, "Just broken books and inane drivel. They do not appear to be cursed, either. This one would recommend burning the remains."
Shang Dongzi hummed, looking at Shen Jiu strangely for a moment. Thanks to his reputation, a single raised eyebrow was enough to make the other head disciple cower away, though.
He still waited for a few days until he began working on it, however. Just to be sure.
Shen Jiu could not fail, after all. Not at this.
It took years for Shen Jiu to finish his work. By the time he'd managed to sort out the original ritual he'd already become peak lord. Life without Shizun was… strange. Lonely. Even more so than it'd been anyways. And the thought that Yuan-ge wouldn't meet her, even if Shen Jiu were to succeed, left a strange, bitter taste in his mouth as well.
The relationship with his martial siblings soured even further now that Shizun wasn't there to reign Shen Jiu in or calm him down from his pain-induced bouts of cruelty.
Shen Qingqiu. That was the name Shizun had given him. Qingqiu of all things. She'd said it was so that he could reclaim his past, so that he wouldn't be too hung up on the bad memories that sign brought. He thought it was perhaps a vindictive move because she'd finally understood that Shen Jiu would never allow himself to become the perfect immortal master she'd always seen in him.
The peak was quiet. Shen Jiu liked that, but he knew Shen Yuan would have hated it. His brother was always so unruly, and he grew bored in a matter of minutes. Where Shen Jiu liked to have the safety of a room with nobody but his brother to disturb them, Shen Yuan had always had a craving for experiencing new things.
Still, Shen Jiu had not brought his brother back yet. Because unfortunately, the ritual would destroy Shen Jiu's soul in turn for bringing Yuan-ge's soul back. And while Shen Jiu had no qualms with sacrificing himself for his brother, he also wanted to live with Yuan-ge again. He wanted to show his brother all the things he'd missed and tell him about all the books he should read.
So Shen Jiu was trying to adjust the ritual for now. Carefully, because he really couldn't fail here. Not when he could finally revive Yuan-ge.
When Shizun had made Shen Jiu her head disciple, she had told him his grief might develop into obsession. He wasn't sure about that, but he knew he was obsessed now. Not just with bringing Yuan-ge back. With other things, too. Like growing stronger, so strong that nobody would be able to take Yuan-ge from him again. Or with making sure nobody could ever fail to understand just who was the better twin amongst them.
Of course, since nobody knew why he was so adamant about growing stronger or learning how to best care for hair or which types of fabric were the softest, people were talking. They would've done so anyways, probably, but they were doing it even more now.
Shen Jiu didn't stop them.
Still, it became harder and harder for him to sit in the peak lord meetings now. How was he supposed to concentrate on anything here when he knew his time would have been better spend working on his new ritual?
It was an otherwise calm day in summer when he finally couldn't take it anymore. Standing up abruptly, he interrupted Shang Qinghua in his never ending ramblings. "This one's time will be better spend elsewhere," he stated by way of explanation when all eyes naturally turned on him, "So this one will be going now."
Qi Xihe, Qi Qingqi now, scowled at him from behind her fan. "And what, prey tell, is so important that shidi has to leave a peak meeting to accomplish?"
Shen Jiu turned to her slowly. "Private matters."
"No, please," Qi Qingqi made a broad gesture, asking him to share, "This Shijie is concerned for her shidi. It must be quite the pressing matter for Shen-Shidi to suddenly leave like this. Perhaps we other peak lords could help?"
They couldn't. They knew nothing of the ritual, after all. And even if they were capable of helping him, there was still the matter of it being highly illegal. Of course, Qi Qingqi didn't know that. Nor did she know just how unbearably pressing this matter actually was. He knew she had intended to scold him with this, embarrass him even. But all she had done was tell the truth, ironically enough. Then again, Shen Jiu supposed there was a first time for everything.
"Thanking Shijie for her concern," Shen Jiu all but spat out, glaring at her from behind his own fan, "But it is entirely unnecessary. It involves only this master and his peak, I assure you. So perhaps Shijie would do well to keep her overgrown nose in her own business and stop trying to rile this master up. Now, as I have already said, I will be leaving."
He didn't intend to wait for a response. But Liu Qingge, just as annoying now as under the name Liu Mingzhu before, wouldn't let him. Of course. "Shen Qingqiu," the brute spat the name Shizun had given him, one hand already on his sword, "Do you care for anyone other than yourself? How can you just abandon your duties like this? It's disgraceful!"
"What's actually disgraceful," Shen Jiu calmly responded, slapping Liu Qingge's hand away from the blade, "is drawing your sword on your martial brother without proper reason all the time. Brute. But to answer your question: There is exactly one person this one cares about. Unfortunately, there doesn't happen to be any affection left for anyone else."
They didn't need to know, Shen Jiu thought to himself as he slipped past his stunned shidi, that he had meant the other Shen with that and not himself.
Shen Yuan would have liked him.
Shen Jiu was sitting through the horrors of having social contact to humans after yet another failed attempt at making the ritual workable for his needs. He had wasted nine years on it by now, and all his calculations and his experiments had brought him nowhere. And now Shen Jiu was sitting here, drinking tea that tasted just as bad as the cups of dirty water his brother used to make him when they were still living on the streets, and Shen Jiu just knew Yuan-ge would have liked him.
He, this time, was a scrawny little boy on whom the newly issued disciple uniform hung too loosely, with curls of untamed black hair and bright, brown eyes.
He was manipulative. Shen Jiu couldn't say why exactly he was sure of that already, but he'd always had a sense for these things. Yuan-ge too, but in contrast to Shen Jiu he'd always thought such traits to be endearing.
The child was pathetic and his answer to Shen Jiu's question was rehearsed, and he looked like the type that could and would cry on command. So, yes, Shen Yuan would without a doubt have been absolutely enchanted by this child. Shen Jiu could almost hear his older twin declare that the child would now be under his protection.
It wasn't fair. Why had this child had a loving parent? Shen Jiu would have been jealous of that for himself, but he could understand that he probably just hadn't deserved a loving home. But why hadn't Yuan-ge gotten a loving parent? If he had, if their parents would have sold only Shen Jiu and not both of them, then surely he would be alive and thriving right now. And if Yuan-ge hadn't deserved a safe home with a warm, loving mother, then who else could possibly have the right to it?
And what was worse was the bright light in the child's eyes. He'd lost his mother to death, hadn't he? Buried her himself? So how could he still look at anyone with such a bright expression? Why wasn't he bitter and hurt and hateful of the world that had ripped his heart in two, like Shen Jiu?
Was it jealousy or disgust that Shen Jiu felt? Even if he'd made an honest effort to discern it, he probably wouldn't have been able to do so.
What he knew, however, was that he wanted to destroy that look.
One moment, Shen Jiu was barely holding on to the careful image he'd crafted. The next, his cup was empty and the child was dripping wet with the awful tea he'd made.
Shen Jiu didn't look at the child's horrified expression as he walked out the door, his head disciple Ming Fan on his heels. He shouldn't have done it. Even Shen Jiu knew that. Once he'd calmed down a bit, he might even feel bad about it.
Then again, Qing Jing was not just the peak of scholars and artists, it was also the peak of gossips and bullies. If the child wanted to survive this peak - and later the world - he would need to learn to stand up for himself. He obviously hadn't understood how cruel the world was yet, despite going through whatever had left him in such a sorry state.
"Ming Fan," Shen Jiu called without looking at the boy, "Show your new shidi where he can find everything he will need. Do not be soft on him, though don't be cruel either. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Shizun!"
Always so eager. Shen Jiu didn't particularly care for Ming Fan, to be honest. Yuan-ge would have found the guy tedious but overall unremarkable, however, and that made it a little easier to stand his presence. Still, Shen Jiu couldn't help the scoff he let out. "Very well. Now leave. This master shall retire for the evening. And Ming Fan? This one does not want to be disturbed. Handle whatever comes up yourself."
Shen Jiu should get back to his secret room. Perhaps he'd missed something. There had to be a way to do the ritual without erasing his own existence entirely. Right?
Shen Jiu was starting to doubt it. But Yuan-ge would have told him to believe in himself, so Shen Jiu would keep trying. Sooner or later, he would bring his gege back into this wretched life. At this point, he didn't care about the cost of it anymore.
Shen Jiu just desperately didn't want to live in a world without Yuan-ge anymore.
"You are a bad person."
Shen Jiu froze where he was almost out of the door, not even moving his fan. Ever so slowly, he turned around towards his shidi, who had just mumbled that utter nonsense. "Excuse me?"
The man flinched back under Shen Jiu's stare, but still repeated ever so slightly louder: "You are not a good person."
Narrowing his eyes, Shen Jiu snapped his fan closed. "I am aware," he answered coldly, "I am not trying to be. What is shidi's point in saying this?"
And why would he, after all? The world had been cruel to Shen Jiu, and he'd still tried to stay true to his principles. The world had called him a filthy, wretched thing, and yet Shen Jiu had always considered himself loyal to those he cherished. And then the world had taken Shen Jiu's one reason for ever trying to heal, to become a person worth liking.
So Shen Jiu had not healed from the pain and abuse he'd suffered through. He hadn't moved on, had even made sure to keep those memories close where they could torment him. Because in the end, all of Shen Jiu's honourable efforts had been made pointless when his one reason had been taken. So now, he very much intended to make it everybody's problem.
A world without his brother did not deserve to be happy, after all. Not when it would have been so much brighter with him in it. A world like that should feel his absence like a bleeding wound, and Shen Jiu wanted that wound to fester.
But there was no point in explaining any of this. How could any of these people ever hope to understand just what they'd lost when they never even got to meet him? Besides, they would not care to understand. Not when the words came out of Shen Qingqiu's mouth.
That's why his shidi across from him could only swallow, not knowing just how deep Shen Jiu's resolve in this ran. "Shixiong should. Try to be a better person, I mean."
Scoffing, Shen Jiu turned around. Not bothering to dignify that with any sort of reply, he made his way out of the almost empty meeting hall. Before he could cross the threshold and truly leave, he heard a different shidi mutter: "Must be nice. Has he such a thick face to act like this, knowing the world would be better off with less people like him? Shameless!"
Shen Jiu forced himself to keep walking, not admitting even to himself how much that hurt. Especially when that shidi was only chastised for saying rude things but never contradicted.
He walked in silence back to the bamboo house he'd been living in long enough that he almost considered it home. Almost. The most important thing to make it a home was still missing, after all.
He was living alone.
It was evening when Shen Jiu made it back, so he took a bath using oils he could've never hoped to afford before becoming peak lord. He took care of his skin afterwards with lotions and serums he hadn't even known the names of when he'd been a child. Then he carefully dried his hair, long and silky strands like the people who used to torment him and his brother once upon a time, and deftly worked in hair oils in just the right amount to keep it that way.
He knew what they said about him. The other peak lords but also the disciples would always whisper about how vain Shen Jiu was. They talked about how he never allowed his clothes or his face to get dirty, how much money and time he spend to maintain his appearance and how he would often stop for a moment or two when he caught sight of his reflection somewhere.
Truth be told, Shen Jiu did not care how he looked. He didn't want to look like the dirty street rat he used to be, of course, but he didn't care much whether or not he looked pretty.
But that face. He cared about that face. Because while he didn't mind if Shen Jiu got scars or dirt or wrinkles all over, that used to be not only his face. And the thought of losing even that, of not seeing his face looking as pretty and perfect as his brother surely would have, was just too painful to bare.
Today, he sat in front of the bronze mirror in his bedroom for an especially long time. His fingers, long and slender and trained for music and calligraphy, traces his features carefully. The slant of his nose. The shape of his cheekbones. His jawline. Lips used to frowns and sneers desperately tried to form the radiant smile from his memories and jade eyes that only knew how to glare or narrow in warning tried to soften into something kind. He failed, of course.
The world would be better off with less people like him.
That was true, Shen Jiu thought desperately, and it would also be better off with more people like his brother.
A different thought nagged in the back of his mind that day. A dark thought he'd tried to burry since it'd first stumbled through his head. Because Shen Jiu did not want to live in a world without his brother. The world was never supposed to exist without his brother, in fact. He was sure of it. And despite knowing that it was wrong, that it was forbidden, dark sorcery…
There was a way to right that wrong.
Surprisingly, Shen Jiu felt nothing as he stood to pen yet another letter to his brother. When he put the brush down this time, he neither cried nor did he burn it. But when he used Xiu Ya to draw the blood he needed, Shen Jiu felt relieved.