Chapter Text
Now
Just over four years after Shen Qingqiu- since he left for the second time, Luo Binghe is given the first bestiary. He doesn’t care about Beasts of the Southwest Forest at first, doesn’t want to know who Shang Tan Fu is or why he cares enough about demonic creatures to be so thorough. He doesn’t look at the carefully detailed illustrations or the painstaking attention to detail, doesn’t consider the thoughtful suggestions for encounters with such things.
He’s had the bestiary for weeks before he actually looks in it and then reads through the whole thing in one sitting. It feels… nostalgic. He finds himself picking out different turns of phrase and occasional rants that only make the writer’s enthusiasm for the subject more clear. It’s familiar, somehow.
Luo Binghe sends out a runner to see if the author has penned any others and is brought back a botany text detailing the same area as the bestiary did. It’s no less thorough and full of obvious love for the subject. Luo Binghe reads through both several times before he tracks down the distributor, who hasn’t actually met Shang Tan Fu but knows there’s another book being worked on for a different region. The distributor promises to send Luo Binghe the first copy as soon as it’s made!
A little disappointed, Luo Binghe almost returns to the palace when his eyes fall upon another stack of books nearby, authored by Shang Qinghua. There are plenty of Shangs in the world. Luo Binghe still summons Shang Qinghua to stand before him.
“Does Shishu know this name?” he asks sweetly, holding up the bestiary. Shang Qinghua sweats and twists his fingers with the same nervousness he’s had for as long as Luo Binghe has known him.
“Oh, uh. Haha, this servant has, of course, known of his fellow writer,” Shang Qinghua stammers. “Very good work! If… If Lord Luo was pleased by it.”
Luo Binghe doesn’t let on if he was or not, just to make Shang Qinghua tremble. It’s about the only fun Luo Binghe has really had since Shen Qingqiu-
“Find them,” Luo Binghe says. “Bring them to me quickly.”
Shang Qinghua blanches but still bows with utmost respect. “Yes! Yes, of course, my lord, of course this servant will not fail him!”
Of that, Luo Binghe has no doubt. Shang Qinghua can be so very inventive in his methods of following whatever order Luo Binghe or Mobei-jun has given him. He’s a squirmy little rat, but he’s a useful one. This may just be a fleeting fancy, grasping for ghosts that will never appear before him, but Luo Binghe is sure Shang Qinghua will bring him something, even if just news that the works were published posthumously.
After two weeks, Shang Qinghua returns empty handed but assures Luo Binghe that the author lives and he has narrowed down the region they currently reside in. It’s good enough news. Luo Binghe has only reread the bestiary and botany texts five times each in the meantime, a little baffled by his own fascination with them. They do contain knowledge he hadn’t known before, but Luo Binghe’s memory is nearly perfect. He could recite both books after the second reading.
Three weeks later, Shang Qinghua does not bring the author but has found the town he currently lives at the outskirts of. The author himself is apparently on a research trip at present. Progress, even if it’s entirely too slow. He at least brings some news of the author, confirming them to be a man and a cultivator of middling talent. That fits with someone able to gather this sort of data. Shang Tan Fu is apparently his actual name, whether birth or courtesy.
Another few weeks and Shang Qinghua continues to fail at producing the author. It annoys Luo Binghe to no end, no matter that it would be difficult to track such a wanderer. He is apparently quick to move on to his next target and Shang Qinghua hasn’t caught up to him yet.
By the end of the first two months, Luo Binghe has some suspicions about Shang Qinghua’s willingness to turn the author over to him. He says nothing about it, just listens to simpering excuses, and starts considering why Shang Qinghua might be delaying this. Is this a relation of his, perhaps? Or is Shang Tan Fu someone who has reason to fear appearing before Luo Binghe?
After the third month of no progress, just more handwaving about travel, Luo Binghe decides he’s had enough. Shang Qinghua can be a brilliant liar when he feels like it but even he can only delay things so long before suspicion is impossible to avoid.
Luo Binghe decides to follow him. It’s not difficult at first, Shang Qinghua doesn’t try to hide his progress through the demon realm and back into the human one, but that’s when things get more interesting. There are several reasons why Shang Qinghua is such an effective spy. The fact that he managed to lose Luo Binghe within the first hour after crossing over is a testament to that.
It takes nearly a day for Luo Binghe to track him back down again, and only because Shang Qinghua doesn’t take to his sword. Odd, that. Luo Binghe finds himself getting a little more excited about this chase, if only because he’s been so incredibly bored as of late with how little effort ruling the demon realm has really been. His more bothersome problem is fending off marriage offers.
There’s only one person Luo Binghe ever wanted to marry and it’s entirely his fault that he isn’t anymore, and never will be again.
Shang Qinghua leads him on a fairly long journey through farmland and small villages, not the sort of thing he’d do by choice. It takes four days before they reach a small, out of the way village in the middle of nowhere. Luo Binghe had almost been ready to just turn around and go home, but his curiosity refuses to be ignored.
His eyes narrow as he notices how friendly the residents are with Shang Qinghua. He apparently comes here often enough to be on good terms. Is this one of his boltholes? Luo Binghe is sure he has them. This kind of rat would never let himself get cornered without multiple escape plans.
Luo Binghe follows out of sight as Shang Qinghua buys some groceries and a few other odds and ends on his way through town. Nearly everyone stops to at least greet him and it’s so very strange not to see that edge of nervousness that usually permeates him. Is this what Shang Qinghua is really like under the cowardly trembling? Doubtful, it’s probably just that all of these are bog standard humans with barely enough qi to be alive, much less actually use it. A few of the children have some potential though, and seem to be receiving some kind of tutelage to use it.
Shang Qinghua’s walk takes him across the whole village and onto a trail that leads up a nearby hill. There’s a house situated there, simple and nondescript, except for how separated it is from the rest. A good way for a man to keep his privacy.
“Did you bring wine?” a rough sounding voice from inside says the moment Shang Qinghua opens the door. Luo Binghe has to strain to hear him.
“You know I’m not helping in your determined effort to make yourself miserable, bro,” Shang Qinghua says, walking in presumably to put away the shopping. “You’re doing that well enough on your own.”
Bro? There’s something just this side of familiar about that term but Luo Binghe shakes it from his head as he sneaks closer to the house. And then has to stop dead before he can accidentally trigger a very cleverly hidden tripwire array. It’s simple, so low powered that it almost disappears into the ambient natural qi of the area. Not a trap, not a barrier, but it would certainly be enough to quietly alert the resident that someone had stepped into his territory. Looks like there’s a scanning element of it as well, likely checking qi levels?
Interesting. So Shang Qinghua’s “bro” is a fellow cultivator, one who actually understands the art of subtlety. Luo Binghe gives the house a narrower look. A cultivator of middling power, perhaps. Maybe even a reclusive author no one else can find. Is Shang Qinghua trying to protect him? Is Shang Tan Fu family after all? Just what does Shang Qinghua think Luo Binghe plans to do with him?
None of it makes sense. Luo Binghe decides not to try breaking the tripwire array without triggering it until the two men inside leave. If anything, it would let him get a good look at Shang Qinghua’s friend if he did, but he might miss out on something slipping out while they think they’re unobserved. Maybe he’d get a better idea of just what Shang Qinghua’s game is here.
Luo Binghe finds a good vantage point nearby and settles in the wait. It’s not that late in the day and the village still pulses with activity. Luo Binghe entertains himself watching their little lives, so far removed from the politics of the demon realm. There aren’t any sects that he knows of nearby, but the villagers don’t seem worried at all of potential attacks.
It’s strange and strange is at least not boring.
An hour or so before sundown, Shang Qinghua finally exits the house, followed by a short, thin man dressed in a simple tunic and trousers that hang loosely off him, his feet bare. The man’s dark hair is perfectly straight and looks like it might have been lovely once but hasn’t been properly maintained. It’s pulled into a messy bun at the back of the man’s neck with plenty of it freely hanging and obscuring his face. Less purposeful than lazy. Unkempt is the best way Luo Binghe can describe him. Untended. Uncaring.
“Just promise me you’ll eat those before they go bad. I know you threw out most of the last batch,” Shang Qinghua says, his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Just because you can practice inedia indefinitely doesn’t mean you should.”
“Fuck off,” is the quiet answer.
Shang Qinghua sighs dramatically and lets go, turning towards the path. “You leave me no choice, dude. I’m gonna have to tell Bao-ayi that you need babysitting again-”
“Don’t you dare!”
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of all the grandmothers that will descend on your house again.” Shang Qinghua pauses, a grin splitting his face as he turns back to the man still standing at the door. “Frankly, I’m surprised they haven’t been here recently to clear out whatever booze you’ve managed to squirrel away.”
The man's hands tightly curl at his sides. “...They did.”
“And I missed it? Shame! They at least fed you after, right? I wanted some of Bao-ayi’s dumplings again.”
“Leech.”
“Aww, thanks dude. Love you, too.”
The man makes a gesture Luo Binghe doesn’t recognize, but it’s probably rude. Shang Qinghua just laughs, returning it over his shoulder as he continues down the trail. The man disappears back into the house.
The spot Luo Binghe decided to watch from was chosen carefully. He’s able to see the way Shang Qinghua’s expression falls as soon as his “bro” can’t see it anymore. Worry, definitely. Maybe something like guilt? Just what is this man to Shang Qinghua? Is this something Luo Binghe will need to bring to Mobei-jun’s attention?
He hopes not. He’s never involved himself in their ridiculous mating dance and he has no intention of doing so now.
As Shang Qinghua steps past the first two houses of the village, he’s descended upon by what looks like every single elderly woman living there. Dozens of them. Luo Binghe sneaks closer so he can get a better idea of what’s going on.
“-damn trader topped off his stash,” one of the women is saying, obviously upset. “He definitely has a few more jugs we haven’t found yet.”
“I could kill that woman,” another says. “She knows he’s not supposed to be drinking! How many times do we have to chase her off?!”
“She only cares that he’s got coin for her and doesn’t bother haggling. Where does he even keep it?! I’ve never seen any when we clean the house and he’s not using what you leave us!”
Shang Qinghua sighs heavily and rubs a hand down his face. “...Is he leaving the house at all?”
“Never in the mornings, but more afternoons than not,” the oldest looking woman says. “Xing-er and A-Hie need teaching, after all. And Ran-er will be joining them starting tomorrow.”
“Yeah, that’d do it. Is he at least sober during that?”
A few of the women glance between each other. One with unfashionably bright makeup rolls her eyes and says, “Hungover generally, but sober.”
Shaking his head, Shang Qinghua looks back towards the lonely house on the hill. “Well. That’s… progress. I guess.”
“Don’t you worry,” another woman says, patting his arm. “We’re keeping a good watch on A-Yuan. And it seems to be helping, having him teach the children. He was a teacher once, wasn’t he?”
Yuan? So not Shang Tan Fu. Or had Shang Qinghua lied about Shang Tan Fu being the man’s actual name? The possibility is just as likely as not.
“Of a sort,” Shang Qinghua says vaguely. “I can’t stay but I brought more silver so you can- So he’s-”
The oldest woman takes the pouch he hands over and offers him a smile. “We’ll look after him. A-Yuan is already so much better than when you brought him here.”
“Didn’t think he’d survive the week,” another mutters.
Shang Qinghua’s smile is strained but he still tries to offer it to them before finally escaping with several shouts to look after himself, you’re too skinny! The warmth of it makes something in Luo Binghe’s chest tighten up, but he learned a long time ago that this sort of thing will always be beyond his grasp. He’s not meant for it.
Following Shang Qinghua away from the village, Luo Binghe tries to decide what he wants to know about this situation. Shang Qinghua is important to his empire, his emotional health must be maintained. Most of that is handled by Mobei-jun of course, but Mobei-jun would have told him if he knew about any of this. Which means he doesn’t and Shang Qinghua is keeping it to himself.
“Should this lord be mentioning your visit to Mobei-jun?” Luo Binghe asks abruptly and Shang Qinghua screeches before turning so quickly that he trips over his feet and ends up on the ground.
“L-l-l-lord Luo! I- This servant-”
Luo Binghe cuts off the annoying simpering quickly by stepping up closer and leaning in. “A lover? Family? Who is that man?”
“No one of consequence to my lord!” Shang Qinghua insists, his eyes wide and terror infesting his scent. “He’s- that is- This lowly one owes him a debt!”
Lifting a brow, Luo Binghe straightens and looks back towards the house on the hill he can just barely make out now. “He’s extorting you?”
“No, no, no, no, he’s- This servant is in no danger!” Shang Qinghua says with even more panic. “This one did him wrong!”
Luo Binghe turns back to him, considering. “This lord supposes he could resolve the situation for you-”
“No!” Shang Qinghua grabs the edge of his robe, staring at him beseechingly. “He can’t see Lord Luo!”
This Yuan seems to be a drunkard that’s teaching the village children in return for the village women’s affection while Shang Qinghua pays them to, what, supervise him? Not someone who would recognize Luo Binghe in a place like this, with people who may not even know his name.
“Why not?” Luo Binghe asks as Shang Qinghua pales.
“He’s- that is-” There’s a few more attempts to start as Shang Qinghua tries to figure out how to lie to him, but Luo Binghe doesn’t call him out on it. Yet. “There- there was someone he lost, before. Who bears a passing resemblance to Lord Luo. And he’s still healing, it hasn’t been long since, uh. Since the losing.”
Maybe for a better man, that would have given Luo Binghe at least a little sympathy for Yuan. Unfortunately, he isn’t and if he can live on four years after his one true love had perished, anyone else should be able to as well.
Besides, Shang Qinghua is lying and he’s worse at pretending about this than usual. Distracted getting so hung up about some no name cultivator?
“Is he the author?” Luo Binghe asks and sees the half second flash of panic before Shang Qinghua can hide it.
“Of course not,” Shang Qinghua lies. “He’s just- he’s just a guy having a bad time.”
It’s almost pathetic how easy it is to look through the lies this time. Shang Qinghua should be ashamed of himself.
Luo Binghe feigns at leaving, well enough that Shang Qinghua moves on to wherever he’d planned to go next. Circling back around the village, Luo Binghe goes to study the edge of the surveillance array. He finds five anchor points, steadying the whole array, and studies the sigils carved into rocks at each point. He only sees them by flipping the rocks over, but it doesn’t disrupt the array. At least not yet.
It’s complex work. Not something he’d expect from a no name drunkard. There’s also a certain style to it that Luo Binghe is sure he recognizes but can’t quite pin down. In either case, the subtle grace of it would be more at home in a cultivation sect than a village in the middle of nowhere. He glances back up towards the house, expanding his senses out as carefully as he can.
While he’s able to feel the village just fine, even picking out the bright points of developing cultivator potentials, the house itself is impenetrable. Hm. Well. Luo Binghe can be patient. He’ll just wait for the drunkard to leave. Settling in for the long haul, Luo Binghe waits.
Somewhere around dinner time, one of the village grandmothers treks up to the house on the hill with a basket and goes inside with barely any warning. Familiar and trusting that she won’t be met with violence. She leaves not long after, a completely different basket with her. The house is quiet into the night but Luo Binghe doesn’t risk that Yuan is awake and the wards woven into the house are merely hiding his active spiritual energy.
The next morning, another woman brings another basket and leaves with the one from last night. Yuan doesn’t leave the house until well into midday when three children run eagerly to his door and make a racket. They don’t seem worried when it takes a while for the door to open and then Luo Binghe hears a hoarse voice.
“It’s lunchtime already?” Yuan asks without stepping inside. Luo Binghe can only make him out in the relative darkness inside the house because of his demonically enhanced eyes. He sounds like he has a cold, but knowing he’s a drunkard, Luo Binghe’s pretty sure it’s just a hangover.
“It’s after lunchtime!” one of the children shrieks, a girl with her hair in pigtails. The loudness of her voice makes Yuan flinch, but he doesn’t shoo them away.
“Just… Just give me a second,” he says and then shuts the door. The children aren’t surprised by this and just babble amongst themselves as Luo Binghe gives the house a narrower look. He’d felt Yuan’s qi while the door was open and then it was gone again after. Before, when the women arrived, he hadn’t been paying attention to it. Now it seems like there’s some kind of silencing or privacy warding in the house itself. Interesting. What is he hiding?
It takes long enough for Yuan to open the door again that Luo Binghe wonders if he’s fallen asleep somewhere. He certainly sounded sleepy. But no, he finally shows himself and he’s at least marginally more put together than the last time Luo Binghe got a good look at him. His clothes are old fashioned, probably hand-me-downs from the people in town since nothing fits well to his thin frame. The colors are worn out and drab, but the wide belt around his small waist gives a sudden punch of deep green. A gift from Shang Qinghua, maybe? He’d have the funds for such a vibrant dye.
Yuan’s hair is back into the bun at the back of his neck, still some of the shorter locks hanging free to frame his face but less messy than before. It’s easier to see his face now and Luo Binghe is surprised at how young he looks. Tired, miserable, but young with pale eyes he can’t quite make out the color for and pale skin just barely darker than white jade. It looks all the more pale with the pitch of his hair and eyelashes. Were Luo Binghe anyone else, he might describe Yuan as plainly attractive. He’s at least not ugly to look at, nor a great beauty. His features are well formed and his eyes might be nice if it weren’t for the deep, dark bags under them. He looks at least a decade younger than Luo Binghe, but as a cultivator, who knows how old he actually is.
There’s something about that face, though, that keeps pricking at Luo Binghe as familiar and he doesn’t know why. Does he know a relative, maybe?
“Come on,” Yuan mutters as he pulls the door shut and walks through the gaggle of children. They eagerly follow him down to the bottom of the hill where it’s flat, a good amount of space within the surveillance array. There’s a large rock that’s been worn down to make a passable seat and that’s where Yuan goes as the children line up before him.
“Did everyone finish their figuring?” Yuan asks and three slates are thrust right into his face. He takes them, looking over the chalk writing on each for several minutes before going to the next. The children squirm and fidget as they wait, but don’t try to hurry him. Finally, Yuan nods. “Good job. No mistakes.”
That’s enough cause for all three of them to cheer as Yuan starts rubbing away the chalk marks with the edge of his sleeve. Quickly, he jots down a few things and hands the slates back with mixed reviews.
“Have them back to me by the end of the week.”
“Yes, Shang-laoshi,” they chorus. Shang Yuan, then. One more sign this might be the author Luo Binghe has been seeking.
“How far have you gotten in the books I gave you?”
The youngest boy pulls a face. The girl’s expression is completely blank. The oldest boy looks anywhere but at Shang Yuan.
Shang Yuan just sighs and glances skyward. “If none of you learn to read well, how do you expect to ever get accepted into a cultivation sect without coming from a rich family? You have to work for what you want.”
Oh? They want to join a sect? From where Luo Binghe is sitting, he doubts they’d do well in any sort of selection, but they still had a few years to develop, he supposes.
“But it’s boring!” the youngest boy whines. Then Shang Yuan pulls a folded fan from his sleeve and smacks the child’s head with it. The hit isn’t hard, the kid is mostly stunned from the audacity and the other two are amused enough for this to be common, but Luo Binghe feels his entire body go entirely still.
He knows that action. He’s seen it plenty of times, been on the receiving end of it. For a moment, it’s not Shang Yuan standing before him but Shen Qingqiu, at his most graceful and beautiful.
Luo Binghe’s next breath stutters in his throat. He has to take a few minutes to center himself, lest he lose control of his qi and give himself away, but it’s so hard. It’s so hard anytime anything reminds him of the master he’d lost. The husband he’d been so stupid to let go of.
It’s entirely Luo Binghe’s fault that Shen Qingqiu is dead.
When he’s able to look up again, the older two children have started working their wobbling way through some of the most basic martial forms and Luo Binghe is off balance again. Even decades since he left, he still remembers them. His muscles still flex and coil in preparation for the next movement in the set. Those are Cang Qiong forms. Those are specifically Qing Jing forms.
His chest is so tight, it’s difficult to breathe at all. Nearby, Shang Yuan is teaching the youngest child a few basic movements, exercises that will help ready his body for more complex things much later on. One had to gain awareness of their body to become any good at martial arts and had to know the limits of it. There are plenty of limits to a child so young, but Shang Yuan seems to understand that well enough.
Is he a former disciple of Qing Jing? It would have been either before or after Luo Binghe’s own time because he doesn’t know this man at all, much as certain things seem familiar to him. Likely before, then; he knows most of the disciples from after and this isn’t one of them. Perhaps he’d left the peak in Luo Binghe’s early days there, enough to note his face a little but not to actually know him.
Whoever this man is, wherever he came from, Shang Yuan seems to be a good enough teacher. The youngest one is stubborn and determined as Shang Yuan works him through the exercises that will strengthen his muscles and encourage limberness. The older two take their time through the movements of their set to get full benefit from the pull and push of their own bodies’ resistance.
None of them are nearly ready to try for a sect, but… It won’t be long before they are, now that Luo Binghe is looking closer at them.
Shang Yuan works with the children for a few hours before sending them home with strict instructions to work on their reading and a threat to halt their martial training if they keep putting it off. The children are incensed enough that they might actually do as he says. When they leave the hill to go back home, Shang Yuan stands along in the practice area and stares after them for a while. There’s something intensely lonely in his face, haunted maybe. Like he’d lost something or perhaps had it taken from him. Like he’d been someone worthwhile before but had withered and is just waiting to die. It’s a sentiment Luo Binghe knows well and he desperately wishes that he didn’t.
Whatever it is, the expression soon shutters to a blank mask as Shang Yuan walks back to his house at the top of the hill. He disappears inside, the closed door activating whatever wards are protecting the house, and Luo Binghe forces himself to go back to the demon realm. He’s spent long enough eavesdropping on these people and he’s far too heartsore to watch anymore.
Then
The emergency peak lord meeting Shen Qingqiu called had no explanation. No cause. All any of them could figure was that there must have been some kind of incident Shen Qingqiu learned about through demon contacts, except Shang Qinghua was just as confused as the rest of them.
Liu Qingge didn’t like it one bit. He was even less pleased when the spiritless waif Shen Qingqiu had become arrived very last.
“Thanking the peak lords for arriving so promptly,” Shen Qingqiu said as he made no move to leave the doorway to take his seat. An uncomfortable unease twisted in Liu Qingge’s belly, apprehensive of what he would hear. “This lowly one won’t take much of their time.”
Liu Qingge stiffened at the humble address and he wasn’t the only one that noticed. Just what the hell was Shen Qingqiu playing at?
“Shen-shixiong surely knows these martial siblings would come to assist him in whatever ways they can,” Mu Qingfang said, careful and even.
“Yes. This one knows.” Shen Qingqiu looked at each of them in the face like he was trying to memorize what they looked like. As if he thought he wouldn’t see them again.
“Well? Spit it out,” Qi Qingqi said, but her voice wasn’t nearly as harsh as it might have been toward one of their other martial siblings. They’d all gotten a little softer when it came to Shen Qingqiu
Still in the doorway, Shen Qingqiu took a bracing breath and his gaze lowered to the floor. With his brows furrowed, his mouth tight, it was probably the most expressive Liu Qingge had seen his face since Luo Binghe left.
“This lowly one-... I have deceived you all.”
The drop of formal speech put Liu Qingge even more on guard than the humble pronoun had. He glanced around to see similar apprehension all around.
“This body suffered a qi deviation and changed entirely years ago,” Shen Qingqiu said and Liu Qingge’s attention focused entirely on him again. He still wasn’t looking at them. “The deviation was more severe than you were led to believe.”
“Shidi-” Yue Qingyuan started, but Shen Qingqiu continued as if he hadn’t heard it.
“Shen Qingqiu died that day.”
Utter silence for a moment. Liu Qingge didn’t know where Shen Qingqiu was going with this, but no one could deny that he was standing right there before them! Breathing and alive! A changed man due to the memory loss certainly, but here.
Shen Qingqiu closed his eyes tightly for a moment. “I am not Shen Qingqiu. I never have been. I’m the thing that got stuffed into his body when he left it.”
Yue Qingyuan rose from his chair and started towards the doorway where Shen Qingqiu still hadn’t moved.
“My name is Shen Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu said as his hands curled tightly in his robes. “I’m a dead man that stole Shen Qingqiu’s life-”
His voice stuttered and died as Yue Qingyuan grabbed onto his upper arms.
“Stop,” Yue Qingyuan said softly. “Shidi has been under a lot of stress and may not be thinking clearly. Please let this shixiong help-”
But that just seemed to break Shen Qingqiu instead of soothing him. He jerked himself back out of Yue Qingyuan’s hold, head lifting to glare at him instead as he stumbled just barely on the door jam leading to the courtyard outside.
“I am not your fucking Xiao Jiu!” he yelled out and Yue Qingyuan flinched like he’d taken a blow. “That man died two decades ago! My name is Shen Yuan. I possessed his body so I could fix his fucking mistakes!”
Mistakes? The vulgarity coming from Shen Qingqiu was weird enough, but the things he said…
“What mistakes, Shixiong?” Mu Qingfang asked.
Shen Qingqiu twisted his glare onto him instead and snarled out, “I’m not your shixiong! I’m not anyone’s shixiong or shizun or- or- I’m not even from this world!”
There was an hysterical edge to his voice that Liu Qingge didn’t like at all. He left his seat and headed for the front. There was no one more familiar with the normal flow of Shen Qingqiu’s qi than him, since he still regularly checked it just in case Without-A-Cure ever made a resurgence.
Shen Qingqiu tried to snatch his hand back when Liu Qingge grabbed hold, but his grip was too strong. Liu Qingge ignored the struggle and sent a probing trickle of qi through his spiritual system. It was obvious Shen Qingqiu is in distress, his qi unsettled and swirling with upset, but nothing that seemed to suggest he’d been cursed or coerced or anything like that. It could still be some kind of mental breakdown, likely was, but not an outside force.
“Let go of me!” Shen Qingqiu said, tugging at his arm. Liu Qingge didn’t and instead looked back over to catch Mu Qingfang’s eye, but he needn’t have bothered. Mu Qingfang was already on his way over and pushed past Yue Qingyuan to touch Shen Qingqiu’s wrist as well.
“Some sort of heart demon…?” Mu Qingfang muttered to himself and Shen Qingqiu started laughing. It wasn’t a pleasant sound at all.
“Heart demon? You think this is- You-” He kept laughing but his eyes were glassy and wet as he tugged at his arm. “Of course you do, xianxia bullshit at its finest- Why isn’t anyone fucking listening to me?!”
“You’re not well,” Mu Qingfang said bluntly and Shen Qingqiu finally managed to tear himself free. His qi was starting to spark and spike dangerously, closer to a deviation than Liu Qingge had felt in decades now.
“Fuck you! Fuck you, I’m not the man you think I am! I’ve been tricking you for years and none of you even- I know I’m not that good an actor!”
“You aren’t,” Yue Qingyuan said with barely any strength behind it.
“I fooled all of you anyway!” Shen Qingqiu continued, backing up into the courtyard as Liu Qingge and Mu Qingfang tried to approach. “You let me- I changed your fates and led you all by the nose. You don’t even know just how many things I changed and I’d do it again without guilt!”
“Shixiong-” Mu Qingfang said, but Shen Qingqiu let out an inarticulate snarl.
“I’m not your fucking shixiong!”
“Shen Qi- Shen Yuan,” Mu Qingfang tried, taking another step towards him. “Please, this shidi- this doctor is only concerned you may be near another qi deviation. Please allow him to help-”
“You still don’t believe me,” Shen Qingqiu said, backing up further. Liu Qingge was this close to just grabbing him and hauling him over to Qian Cao no matter his protests. Then Shen Qingqiu summoned his sword and everything got a lot more tense.
“I thought- I thought I might feel better, if I came clean,” he said as tears finally began to streak down his face. “I thought maybe if I could be honest with someone and they accepted me, maybe it would be okay, but he- but none of you- none of you are listening…”
“Cucumber-bro!” Shang Qinghua shouted as he pushed his way past the rest of them, going so far as to shove Mu Qingfang out of his way. “Calm down! We can talk about this, you don’t have to-”
“I don’t have to? Hah!” The grip on Xiu Ya was so tight Shen Qingqiu’s hand shook. Actually, all of him was shaking. Liu Qingge hazarded a careful step forward while his attention was diverted, and went unnoticed.
“Come on, bro,” Shang Qinghua said, hands raised to show himself harmless. He walked towards Shen Qingqiu slowly and Shen Qingqiu didn’t back away the way he had from the rest of them. “Put down the sword. Let’s go to my place and chill out, okay? We’ll talk, you can tell me how much of a shit show my newest book is.”
Liu Qingge had never heard Shang Qinghua talk that way, but he dismissed it as irrelevant for now. It was keeping Shen Qingqiu’s attention and that was enough as Liu Qingge edged around to flank him. With a glance, Yue Qingyuan instantly understood the plan and subtly guided Mu Qingfang behind him.
“Fuck off, Airplane,” Shen Qingqiu said with another laugh that was wet and distorted. “Fuck off, you still- Shit, they don’t know anything, bro. They’ll never believe me. They won’t- They’re never going to accept me. Why would they? They still think I’m-”
“I know. I know, man, but it’s okay. I know the truth, I’ve got you, bro. You’re not alone.”
That just seemed to make the crying worse. Liu Qingge had managed to get halfway around the courtyard, almost into position to tackle him from behind.
“Are-are you kidding?” Shen Qingqiu asked, flicking Xiu Ya aimlessly for emphasis. “I’m not a- Fuck you, Airplane! You still have- You’re still…”
“It’s gonna be okay,” Shang Qinghua said. He was almost close enough to touch and slowly reached one hand towards Shen Qingqiu’s on the sword. “I know who you are. I get it. Okay? So you-”
“I’m just so tired of pretending to be him,” Shen Qingqiu whispered as the tip of Xiu Ya inched towards the ground. Shang Qinghua’s fingers slowly came to rest over Shen Qingqiu’s hand. “I- I don’t even know if I remember how to be me. I’m just so tired.”
Shang Qinghua eased the sword out of Shen Qingqiu’s hand and tossed it back for Yue Qingyuan to catch.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Shen Qingqiu said. He threw his arms around Shang Qinghua’s neck and clutched tightly as he pressed his face against Shang Qinghua’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Airplane.”
“It’s gonna be okay,” Shang Qinghua repeated, rubbing Shen Qingqiu’s back. “I-”
“No,” Shen Qingqiu said, barely loud enough to hear at all. “No, for leaving you alone.”
It happened too quickly. Liu Qingge hadn’t even felt the build up of qi in Shen Qingqiu’s body before it burst in a sudden, familiar cascade of force that managed to be even more powerful than the last time. Liu Qingge ended up knocked back and the only reason Shang Qinghua wasn’t was because Shen Qingqiu still had his arms tight around him. The wave of qi dissipated as quickly as it had risen up and Shang Qinghua staggered as Shen Qingqiu went boneless against him. He sank down to his knees, clutching Shen Qingqiu to him as Liu Qingge, Yue Qingyuan, and Mu Qingfang rushed to their side.
Shang Qinghua stared dully ahead, his expression entirely blank except for his wide eyes. There were drops of blood on his cheek, another on his chin, and a lot more on the front of his robes when Yue Qingyuan pulled Shen Qingqiu off him. Mu Qingfang tried to heal, tried to stabilize the failing body, but they all knew it was too late.
Liu Qingge didn’t have to hear him pronounce Shen Qingqiu dead. He already knew.
He just didn’t understand why.