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Chapter Text

To be honest, Chen Qingxu barely noticed Shen-shixiong’s curiously flat smell. She supposed it was mainly that when she got to interact with him, it always was for the Peak Lords’ regular meetings and there, she was a mite too busy trying to not choke on Liu Qingge’s overpowering stink.

Seriously, how could a young master from such a reputable clan as the Liu bloodline be so ill-mannered and forget the elementary courtesy of bathing ? Yes, Liu-shidi was qianyuan and qianyuans were hopelessly brutish and unable to follow the precepts of cleanliness and basic social interactions for most of them, but still.

He couldn’t even claim his lack of politeness was caused by his clan dropping him at Cang Qiong Mountain immediately after he reached puberty and as such not teaching him how to behave – Zhangmen-shixiong was qianyuan, Qi-shimei was qianyuan, Wei-shixiong was qianyuan and none of these three was attempting to embody the stereotype with such conviction. Zhangmen-shixiong actually could pass for a zhongyong, such was his restraint and self-control !

Well, unless Shen-shixiong was concerned. Then Yue Qingyuan became a wretched knothead – for utterly mystifying reasons.

Maybe it was linked to the scent. Their fellow Peak Lords tended to frown and not-so-discreetly snarl when Shen-shixiong was present, and it wasn’t entirely due to his acerbic commentary. They did it even when he firmly kept his mouth shut.

Now that she needed to spend time with him in close proximity, Chen Qingxu was suspecting his scent was at fault. Such a colourless, emotionless smell – nothing to indicate what Shen-shixiong was actually thinking. Uncanny, that was the word : the Alchemist almost felt like she was facing a lifesized doll that was frighteningly close to perfectly mimic a person yet couldn’t manage to bridge the gap.

So fascinating . Well, not so much for the majority of people, they would be quite repulsed and freaked, but who cared about them when interesting phenomenas were happening right under your nose ! And she hadn’t noticed before taking off on a monster-part-gathering expedition with him ! Oh, the shame.

Still, she firmly bit her tongue, knowing this bird would fly away if spooked. This was the observation part of the experiment, when she needed to carefully examine her sample and test subject before starting to intervene and manipulate it.

Shen-shixiong seemed content with her behaviour. Which was good, since it gave her higher chances to get closer from him in the future – and complete her study. Why would his scent be so strange ? Some hormonal defect ? A spiritual impairment ? Oh, she couldn’t wait to learn…

But in the meantime, there were monster parts to gather. Usually, the Peak Lord would send a Disciple that had displeased her on the errand, or would ask An Ding Peak to find and buy the necessary ingredients on the market. On very rare occasions, she needed for one of her martial siblings to go and bring her the materials back.

One of these occasions had seen her here, stranded far away from her lab and work station, because she absolutely needed tiger-spotted horned newt’s skin and venom sacks, and she couldn’t trust anyone else to not damage the fragile materials or confuse the creatures with something completely different such as marbled long-eared salamander and then her current project that saw her in collaboration with the Zui Xian Peak Lord would be set back for several months and that would be unacceptable.

So she went by herself to find the bleeding creatures, and Shen Qingqiu went as her guide because he quite unexpectedly was a walking, breathing compendium about any kind of critter you could think of, and probably several you wouldn’t have dared to dream on your own. Also, Zhangmen-shixiong had insisted, telling the Qing Jing Peak Lord that he really needed to try and be more sociable.

Sociable, as if it was some sought-after quality. Chen Qingxu would have personally been happy as a clam to entirely seclude herself in her Peak and only interact with minions giving her the latest treatises in alchemical discoveries and all the instruments and ingredients for her to work without being distracted, but she just wasn’t allowed. Feh !

She didn’t need a bond with her martial siblings to be happy. She didn’t have the inkling of a bond with Shen-shixiong and she didn’t care a whit about changing this situation. She just cared about slaughtering as many newts as her qiankun pouch could safely contain and fly back to her lab, while Shen-shixiong pointed her to their lakeside warrens and helped with the slaughter.

Such a messy venture, it was. The newts wouldn’t let themselves quietly be culled, how rude, and threw gobs of poisonous saliva and blasts of muddy water at the cultivators, some outright charging and trying to impale the humans on their horns. Fortunately, water monsters tended to be extremely sensitive to heat and cold, so Chen Qingxu only had to release a flurry of talismans that caused a scorching heatwave and a blistering refrigeration effect on impact for the beasts to fall by clusters.

Shen Qingqiu insisted she couldn’t pick any young or female specimens, or it would risk the depleting of the colony in a possibly permanent way. Chen Qingxu conceded the point before telling him to help her put her chosen specimens in stasis and stuff them into the qiankun pouch.

He sneered at her, not surprisingly since Shen-shixiong was a fussy and tedious sort that would rather die than allow himself to appear less than perfectly put together and manipulating slimy and muddy creatures certainly wasn’t conducive to a clean, immaculate image. She blinked at the scholarly Peak Lord and threw the pouch at him.

If he had time enough to be petty and whine over his chores, he had time to do said chores.

He folded and wrapped the newts she pointed at him. It had to be healthy, fat ones – they had the biggest venom sacks and the thicker skins, so would yield more toxins.

She was busy examinating a splendidly antlered male, pondering if it was worthy to be selected as her seventeenth specimen, when she heard Shen-shixiong swearing. It was a rather colourful swear involving a morally-dubious and awfully unfilial mating encounter in decidedly unhygienic terms, and Chen Qingxu almost dropped her cargo to applaud.

One newt apparently wasn’t as knocked out as it should have been and had succeeded in biting Shen-shixiong’s hand. The man’s armlet fortunately was strong enough to prevent the creature’s teeth from biting his hand off – the prospect of reattaching a limb on the field never was an appealing one, and Chen Qingxu was rather more comfortable with drugs than first-aid surgery.

« Has Shen-shixiong been poisoned ? » she asked after he had beaten the newt into unconsciousness with his fan.

He was frowning, looking at the yellowish slime dripping from his fingers. His scent wouldn’t express any kind of fear or confusion or even anger.

« This one shall survive » he merely said.

The Alchemist wrinkled her nose. Well, it was his body and life on the line, and if he wanted to ruin his meridians even more, she wouldn’t waste her breath on the endeavour of dissuading him. She wasn’t there to rescue him from his own stupidity.

« If Shen-shixiong says so » she demurred, and that was it.

Chapter Text

Shen-shixiong fell off his sword on the way back to Cang Qiong Mountain.

Since Chen Qingxu wasn’t following a path of physical cultivation like Bai Zhan Peak or even Xian Shu Peak would offer to their residents, she didn’t even try to swoop down and catch him in her arms – that would be utterly ridiculous, he was much taller than her – so she merely threw one of her anti-gravity talismans at him, which succeeded in slowing down his fall until he dropped into the ground with nothing with a slight bump sound.

She landed right besides him. Shen-shixiong looked paler than usual, gritting his teeth and breathing heavily through his nose.

« That will teach you to claim you’re fine after being exposed to newt’s poison » she cooly said. « Now, would Shen-shixiong rather be entrusted to Mu-shidi and his apprentices’ care, or would he let this shimei drag him off to her work station ? Never did I got the opportunity to study how an Immortal is affected by the substance, and I shall confess I feel curious. »

She genuinely was curious, and she also knew the latter was the likelier option – her martial brother couldn’t fly anymore in his current state, and she wasn’t a very good flyer on her own so the odds of them getting back to their sect and Qian Cao Peak in time for Shen-shixiong to be spared the worst of the poisoning were rather low. Shen-shixiong was far from stupid, he wouldn’t be Cang Qiong’s head strategist if so, he had to know it too.

She could see his face pucker as if he had swallowed a sour lemon whole – or as if Liu Qingge was right here and spreading his qianyuan stink everywhere. Of course he knew his options.

« Red Warm Pavilion » he managed to spit out.

Chen Qingxu blinked. She… thought it sounded like some inn ? Her memory wasn’t very good when it came to retaining information about something not alchemy and talisman-making, so she couldn’t say…

« Does this place have clean rooms ? » she asked.

Shen-shixiong snorted. His scent was flat as ever, not even betraying his current affliction, but she would dare to claim he was amused by something.

« They will have clean beds » he assured her.

Well, nothing to do but go there. Chen Qingxu clumsily lifted her shixiong in her arms, one under his legs and the other supporting his back because the alternative would be to carry him over her shoulder and she refused to let anyone in such a position that would let them get intimately close from her backside, and very carefully stepped back on her sword. Her usually careful takeoff went even more wobbly than what she was used to.

The travel to the town next to the Tian Gong mountain range was the perfect definition of awkwardness. Chen Qingxu actually was reduced asking her shixiong for directions, so nervous was she that the Alchemist found herself barely able to keep her blade steady and up in the air. How she hated touching people, it always overwhelmed her and her skin was left crawling for hours.

Shen Qingqiu wasn’t happier, his breathing growing more and more harsh while perspiration on his cheekbones and forehead made his whole face shiny. And his scent…

When Chen Qingxu finally landed in a courtyard picked among many others in the bad side of the town, a note of sourness was emerging from under her martial sibling’s usual colourless smell. Something reminiscent of overripe fruit, something that spoke of deep anxiety and terror.

It seemed like Shen-shixiong was a human being under his aloof and bitchy demeanor. Still, she wondered how he could hide himself with such proficiency.

Then a woman went to greet them, introducing herself as Madam Tang from the Red Warm Pavilion and asking what kind of services Master Shen might require of her humble establishment this time, he usually comes alone ? Behind her followed at least three girls perfumed and their faces painted in such a manner that it would be impossible to not guess at their occupation.

Ah, yes. Chen Qingxu vaguely remembered Liu Qingge taking Shen-shixiong to task for his frequent visits to the brothel. Rather hypocrite for a qianyuan, but Liu Qingge was more of the fight-happy bent than the sex-crazed mold.

« He got bitten by a poisonous newt because he was an idiot » she bluntly revealed, « and now, he needs a bed to rest. This one would dare to ask if one of yours is free. »

The Madam scowled at her, her black eyes sharpening to a threatening edge and her mild zhongyong smell gaining a rotten meat undertone of hostility and mistrust. The Alchemist blinked, her own paper and ink scent refusing to react to the display. She never let any of her martial siblings get a rise from her, and this stranger thought she could intimidate Chen Qingxu ?

How bewildering and annoying.

« This one would take a bath, while you fuss over Shen-shixiong » she merely requested. « I don’t think he would enjoy to have me in the room with his wretched self. »

Shen-shixiong hissed in her ear but didn’t emit a negation, so she abandoned him to the prostitutes’ worried care while she was led to a bathtub. It was a humble wooden basin filled with murky white ricewater, a little jasmine oil added in for fragrance.

Chen Qingxu eschewed perfume as a rule : an Alchemist needed their nose uncumbered by artificial smells if they wanted to identify ingredients and vapors without risking to poison or blow themselves up. Also, too much perfume interacts badly with natural pheromones, causing dissonance in the way people are behaving towards the perfumed one…

Chen Qingxu stilled as she was rising from her bath. She was carefully holding on the treacherous idea that just surged at the forefront of her mind, fully aware that she needed to think as she unraveled it.

Dissonance. What happens when one hides their true nature, and people around just know there is something inherently wrong with this person, just know there is a liar, a potential danger among them yet cannot understand why such disgust and uneasiness rise within them.

The Cang Qiong Peak Lords snarling around Shen Qingqiu. The man’s flat, emotionless, uncanny scent that never wavers. Didn’t she compare him to a puppet, a mimicry of a true person ?

It had to be deliberate, Shen-shixiong wasn’t the kind of man who made mistakes – or when he did, it was premeditated. So, Shen Qingqiu was a liar – Shen Qingqiu was erasing his true scent.

It… it is rather disappointing. Chen Qingxu was looking forwards a medical or spiritual mystery, only for a mundane explanation to her martial sibling’s queerness to fall on her lap. She almost wanted to slap him over the offense – how dared he to get her hopes up with his cruel, cruel prank !

Nonetheless, the hiding. She can’t deny it, this is weird. Why would Shen-shixiong be so desperate to let everyone believe he’s a particularly repulsive zhongyong ?

Maybe if he was qianyuan… but no, a third of the Peak Lords were knotheads so he cannot have been ashamed of this.

Maybe he was just like the Zui Xian Peak Lord who enjoyed a complicated relationship with gender and occasionally will use perfume to seem more feminine or masculine ?

Maybe… some beings had such potent inhuman blood it made them reek , a stink shrieking their demonic power or spirit ascendance to every nose in the close and not-so-close neighbourhood. Something to smother under false scents if possible to avoid detection.

Oh, dear. Shen-shixiong was really shaping up to be so much more interesting than she could have imagined him.

Chapter Text

The whores were quietly panicking, Chen Qingxu could feel it in the air – a slightly acidic tang rising from their painted faces and pretty clothes. She would bet the female healer who promptly stomped her way within the room assignated to Shen-shixiong had a hand in the current atmosphere.

All this agitation made her gorge rise. And Zhangmen-shixiong wondered why she hated to leave her laboratory – when your nose was so sensitive, a mob whipped into a frenzy of emotions was nothing short the stuff of nightmares. It stunk to high heavens, surely it was a proof of the gods’ compassion to not have wiped mortalkind already.

As she vainly tried to not asphyxiate by breathing through her teeth, the Alchemist could hear the healer – who had just left the room with a genuinely awful expression on her face, you would believe she was planning her husband and parents’ funeral – making her rapport to the Madam as quietly as possible, while the brothel’s flowers lurked around with their ears very much open and attentive.

« This healer has served the Red Warm Pavilion for a decade, but your flowers are no cultivators and they never play with exotic substances. I’m sorry, I genuinely am, but I can’t see how to save both of them... »

Both of them ? Chen Qingxu’s ears were prickling, and she frowned.

« You have to try » the Madam insisted. « Master Shen will never recover if he’s dealt such a blow. You know he won’t. »

« I do ! But I don’t have the expertise needed, this one is just some stupid woman who learned her craft by tending her patients and fumbling her way into wisdom. I have no formal education ! »

And Chen Qingxu doesn’t know what madness comes upon her, to make her mouth open and her tongue let slip the following words :

« This Mistress Alchemist is well-versed in the outer practices of preparing medicines and elixirs, and in the inner practices of preserving the life essence and the energy flow within the body. Granted, this one won’t claim for her knowledge to equal a true Qian Cao Peak disciple’s expertise… but there is overlap. »

The term medicine and elixir were virtually interchangeable because of the array of ailments they could influence. Of course, some measure of compassion was needed to engage on the path of physician – and that ultimately was why Mu Qingfang became the Sect’s most proficient doctor while she was an Alchemist. His patients dying would upset him – she would only steal the corpses to experiment.

Judging by the Madam and the healer’s mistrustful gazes, they also would rather see Mu-shidi at Shen-shixiong’s bedside. Unfortunately, they were stuck with her wretched self.

« And why would we let you see Master Shen in his current vulnerable state ? » the Madam asked, her tone dripping with poisonous suspicion.

« Because I politely ask of you » Chen Qingxu shrugged.

And she waited for the woman to deliver judgement. She felt confident about her odds, people never truly considered her worthy of their attention after looking at her freckled face and flat chest and clumsy gait. Never truly considered that such a plain slip of a woman could ever pose a threat.

The Madam wasn’t like most people, her scent still marred by defiance as she allowed the Alchemist to enter the sickroom. But after all, she was dealing in human nature – of course she needed to see beyond the surface and seek for something’s actual face.

It was a small, cramped room, almost claustrophobic in its lack of space, barely enough for a canopied bed covered with a profusion of quilts and soft blankets and fluffy cushions. Shen-shixiong in his inner robes was curled on said furniture, clutching his belly and hopelessly wheezing.

He smelled of candied peaches slices, a golden, glorious perfume with a sweet milky undertone, a cool refreshment chasing the thickness of honeyed fruit and you just wanted to drink and drink and eat your fill…

Oh. Chen Qingxu blinked, hiccuping. No wonder Shen-shixiong was smothering his natural odor, or he would be inundated with proposals. Who wouldn’t covet such a kunze ?

She carefully crept closer to the bed. Far too busy sweating and panting his distress, Shen-shixiong limply allowed her to take his pale wrist in her hands. She shuddered and focused on the qi flows right beneath the soft skin.

The creamy hint of milk stubbornly persisted between the four walls and roughly hidden behind her shixiong’s lower dantian busy refining his essence into vitality was a small knot of lifeforce, almost but not perfectly similar to Shen Qingqiu’s. Well, diagnosis of pregnancy confirmed.

Chen Qingxu was pretty sure that a pregnant female zhongyong or a pregnant kunze was supposed to fatten, but Shen-shixiong had managed to lose weight, it was obvious now that he couldn’t hide his silhouette with layers upon layers of robes. His tummy barely protruded, giving the illusion his pregnancy was far less advanced than late in the seventh month, early in the eighth.

And she could detect Shen-shixiong’s fire root raging and roaring as it scalded his meridians, trying to burn the newt’s poison before it could reach the unborn.

Well, it certainly complicated the treatment, didn’t it ?

« Shen-shixiong » she called, « your shimei has an idea about preventing your infant from being a stillborn. »

A harsh, glittering green pair of eyes focused on her with the deadly intensity of a predator about to go on a rampage.

« Tell me » he growled, his voice raspy from tightly concealed pain.

« This one would give you a potion to induce preterm labour, then another medicine to counter the venom running through your veins once you will be delivered. »

She waited for an answer, and it was quick : Shen-shixiong’s nails threatened to tear and ripe her hand’s skin while he furiously hissed, reminding her of a boiling kettle about to explode.

« It’s too early for labour » the healer protested from the threshold, « the child would be likely to sicken and die if they were born so small. »

« And if the child is left within their mother’s womb, they would die without having the opportunity to breath their first » Chen Qingxu retorted. « I dare not to give the antidote to Shen-shixiong while he’s carrying, it would be too brutal on his body to not negatively impact the unborn and it would take too much time. Far much quick and easy to prepare both medicines now, to let the drug end cooking while Shen-shixiong gives birth. »

« And after ? » the healer insisted.

« As long as the child is kept warm and fed within their mother’s embrace, they should be alright » the Alchemist shrugged. « There’s drugs to accelerate maturation of the fetus… and this little one enjoyed the womb long enough to have a fighting chance. But would you expect less than a fighter for Shen-shixiong’s get ? »

Shen-shixiong mainly looked hopelessly sick. And yet… he didn’t look defeated, far from it.

« Alright » he breathed from between his gritted teeth.

« So I have your agreement to the proposed treatment ? » Chen Qingxu amiably confirmed, as she already was reaching towards her qiankun pouch – her Disciples sometimes accused her from stuffing it with useless ingredients and instruments, she called it preparation.

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes were burning, but she was half-convinced the fever wasn’t responsible.

« Don’t let them die » he rasped.

Chen Qingxu almost wanted to snort and fire back that she couldn’t promise him anything, she was an Alchemist who played the physician merely because she was the closest thing they got. She didn’t, as a hint of overpowering rot was spreading in her shixiong’s scent.

« Don’t let them die » Shen Qingqiu repeated, « kill me if you must, no one cares anyway, no one will care if I bleed to death in a brothel, but don’t let my child die . »

Fear. All-encompassing, all-devouring fear.

Shen Qingqiu wasn’t supposed to be scared, of anything. Chen Qingxu’s dark brown gaze met his burning green one.

« Shen-shixiong » she said, and her voice was steady. « I won’t. »

Chapter Text

Preparing two medicines that she was making on the fly in a field of study she wasn’t an expert of, that was a bitch. Doing it in a small, cramped space while her patient was busy trying to die as slowly as possible, this was a bitch and a full litter of mongrel pups, twelve of them and all wailing for her attention.

Chen Qingxu ought to have panicked, but she was far too busy trying to keep her cauldrons boiling hot while she filled them with water and various herbs and animal substances. She briefly mourned the fact that the very rare medicines derived from human bodies were all locked tight on her Peak, but she couldn’t take them in her qiankun pouch out of fear to be discovered, she would immediately be accused of being an evil cultivator and a gravedigger.

She absolutely wasn’t – her Peak has an understanding with various towns and cities regarding fresh corpses to be given to her Disciples, and Mu-shidi’s too. How could any Alchemist or physician worth their salt claim to practice their art if they refused to directly study the human body ?

Oh well, she was left to bemoan her lack of vaginal secretions and dried placenta, she was pretty sure it would have enhanced the properties of the bitter paste she made Shen-shixiong eat several spoonfuls of before asking him to ruck his inner robes up and let her spread the mixture on his unmentionable parts.

« This is for stimulating your orifice-opening and encouraging your body to expel the child into the world » she babbled at her martial sibling, a captive audience if it ever was, he might not find this interesting but it was his health on the line so he had to listen. « By the way, it will also prepare you to ingest the second drug, the backlash will dampen the current fire raging in your meridians but don’t worry, this shimei had taken everything in account ! »

« How so ? » Shen Qingqiu spat, but he wasn’t looking at her, much more focused on massaging his gut while the healer carefully helped him to squat in order to make the child descent quicker.

« Mn, the tiger-spotted horned newt is a being of cool water, so its venom naturally would douse your fire root. But if Shen-shixiong was to be exposed to a substance of earthen and warm nature, the venom would go torpid and still, only waiting to be sweated out. »

Chen Qingxu suddenly frowned.

« Maybe Shen-shixiong should abstain from breastfeeding his child, at least until his body has been fully purged from the poison. It wouldn’t do for the toxins to kill the baby through their mother’s milk, after all this hard work to prevent a stillbirth. »

Shen-shixiong pitifully groaned, from exasperation or pain, it was hard to say, but the healer certainly winced.

This poor woman really was out of her element, she had confessed while the Alchemist was hastily refining her paste that her experience mainly regarded contraception, abortions and a truly dizzying array of veneral infections and diseases. In a brothel, ensuring a working girl would stay healthy and able to please her clients was more important than letting yet another useless mouth to be born.

Madam Tang ran a tidy, serious business and ensured no one of her flowers would deal with the inconvenience of pregnancy. So it meant her favored healer was rather flustered and more anxious than the concerned mother by the prospect of a living birth, after a full decade without any activity on this front.

Chen Qingxu didn’t particularly want to be there either, but fortunately she could focus on her second brew while her shixiong was whelping his get barely a few chi away. And he was polite about it, refusing to scream and complain in spite of his current poisoned state and his struggle to push a whole human being out of his unmentionable parts.

Such willpower, truly Shen-shixiong was worthy of his title as the Xiu Ya Sword !

Then a wretched, barely audible mewl made itself heard in the choked, fume-invaded air, and the Alchemist stupidly wondered who had let a kitten enter in the room, then she remembered what had just happened.

« Where is the water ? » she yelled towards the threshold. « We need this water – warm, don’t forget it – and clean rags ! A lot of clean rags ! »

Not only the newborn had to be cleaned from blood and other disgusting fluids, Shen-shixiong also was covered with nastiness and sweating newt poison out wouldn’t help the matter. So, clean rags and water.

« It’s coming » the Madam assured, the woman had stayed and played the vigil as if Chen Qingxu would murder her martial sibling in her absence, such mistrust.

« Good. This child needs to be wrapped tight after their bath – and we also need to wrap Shen-shixiong’s belly, to make his womb shrink… Oh ! Clean robes too, if you would. »

As the Madam turned her head to instruct someone posted in the corridor, the Alchemist dipped a cup within her brew and braced herself : now was the most dangerous part, for it wasn’t rare for a tired and pained kunze to assault anyone they believed a foe to their offspring, be it a mate or a treasured sibling.

Knowing her shixiong’s temperament, she would be lucky if he merely ripped her face to shreds.

« Shen-shixiong » she called.

Shen Qingqiu looked wrecked . His bangs plastered to his damp forehead, his green eyes dull and unseeing, his breath wheezed as he half-laid on the floor, half-let the bed’s frame support his back. His candied peaches smell almost disappeared under the stink of fresh blood, and a tiny, wrinkled, angry red creature was cradled against his chest.

It was… a very tiny human being. Chen Qingxu had to believe it was due to the premature birth, a healthy newborn couldn’t be that small.

The healer noticed her gaze and shuffled on her knees.

« Either it’s a female qianyuan, or a male kunze – both sets of parts present. I cannot say more without knowing the sire. »

A reason why male kunze were so coveted was their ability to bear sons as long as they were impregnated by another male, a little fact many aristocratic and wealthy bloodlines gleefully exploited to ensure an abundance of heirs. Male and female breeding together would produce girls and boys no matter their respective disposition, and a female qianyuan would only beget daughters on other women.

If Shen Qingqiu had been impregnated by a man, his child couldn’t be anything but kunze. Still, the Xiu Ya Sword seemed a mite too dazed to give any precisions regarding the sire for the moment.

Chen Qingxu carefully crept closer.

« Shen-shixiong » she repeated. « You need to drink your medicine. »

His head twitched, and she could hear a growl deep in his chest, threatening to rise in his throat. In her hand, the cup radiated heat and it started to become uncomfortable.

« If you refuse to drink, the poison will attack your meridians and you will fall into a qi deviation. Now, this shimei knows Shen-shixiong is used to it, but there’s a little someone who needs their mother tending to them instead of being a stubborn ass and ruining his health. »

Alright, she probably should have been more sweet and understanding. Fuck it, next time a medical urgency would happen, she would let Mu-shidi take care of it.

Shen-shixiong bared his teeth but he oh-so-slowly lifted his trembling hand to take the cup from her and drink a bit too fast, a dribble of liquid evading his mouth and splattering his chest – these inner robes are a goner – at the least he retained enough of his reasoning faculties to listen.

Now, to convince him to let go of the child long enough for him to expell the poison through his pores, then bathe and dress in clean garments. Chen Qingxu thought that trying to fight one of the Dragon-Kings on her own would be less risky an endeavour.

Why was she involving herself in this mess, already ?

Chapter Text

Having to purge yourself from poison never was a pleasing experience, but it was guaranteed to be messy and exhausting, moreso if you decided to rush the process instead of waiting it out. For the present opportunity, Shen-shixiong certainly was incommodated – he shivered with such intensity, the healer actually worried about him going in a seizure.

It wasn’t a seizure, but it nonetheless was lucky for him to have entrusted his newborn to the Madam (in spite of his extremely obvious reluctance to do so) while he heaved and squirmed on the floor. He had refused to climb on the bed, arguing that he only would ruin the sheets beyond any hope of salvage.

Chen Qingxu could approve the reasoning : it would be a lot easier to not have to unwrap her newly-delicate martial sibling from dirty quilts and risk for him to succomb to illness. Better to let him suffer now and pamper him later, it wouldn’t be like he would die from a measly bit of hardness in his life.

The final result was a completely limp Shen Qingqiu, barely able to keep his eyes open as she carefully scrubbed his pale skin clean from greyish-black ooze and directed his arms and legs into fresh robes. He softly whimpered – and wasn’t that disturbing, hearing the haughty and proud Xiu Ya Sword releasing such a pitiful sound – as the Alchemist wrapped his belly tight with bandages, and she had to slap his hand away when he tried to undo the binding.

« Shen-shixiong, your organs need support after the intensive stress they just were submitted, and the last thing you want is to fall sick because you went cold. »

He sniffed but didn’t try to touch after that.

Giving birth was known to heavily deplete the qi and invite cooling, and the newt’s venom being cured by dampening Shen-shixiong’s fire root further aggravated his state : fortunately, the Red Warm Pavilion could provide a lot of clean robes and heavy blankets for a kunze in dire need of warmth.

Shen Qingqiu had been bundled in three layers of clothes and under two fluffy, heavily embroidered quilts when the Madam came back, cradling in her arms a swaddled, diminutive human being as if they were the famed Peaches of Immortality grown by the Queen Mother of the West herself and offered to the gods on a golden platter.

The ailing kunze immediately tried to leave his bed, weakly struggling against his woolen cocoon and his martial sister’s unrelenting hands keeping him firmly pinned on the mattress. The Madam softly hummed as she approached, lifted the blankets and carefully deposed her fragile package right besides the new mother’s head.

Shen Qingqiu stilled, his eyes riveted to the tiny child. Slowly, he cuddled the infant to his chest, helplessly cooing as his candied peaches smell sweetened and thickened in the air, and Chen Qingxu suddenly felt a pang of hunger deep in her belly.

Weird. Even when she wasn’t far enough in her Golden Core formation to practise inedia, she never had had much appetite. On the other hand, she just helped her fearsome shixiong to give birth and lived through it with all her limbs still attached, maybe her body wanted some comfort after such duress ?

A possibility to consider. She would think about it over honeyed cakes. Did the brothel serve snacks ? And regarding food…

« Shen-shixiong will have to follow a postpartum diet » she announced to the Madam – the woman was making cow eyes at the kunze far too drunk on postpartum hormones to notice her, how sappy. « Can you give him garlic and ginseng with a lot of meat broths ? »

The healer coughed, adressing an inquisitive gaze to her employer. The older zhongyong woman pursued her painted lips, but her smell was free of hostile undertones.

« We will inform the cooks » she promised.

« Good, good » Chen Qingxu muttered. « As long as it contains energy and proteins, it’s good for him to eat. If he complains he’s not hungry, force him to take something, he can’t allow himself to lose on nutrients. Oh ! And ginger, ginger will remove the wind accumulated in his body and also helps with nausea. Enough ginger tea to drown him ! »

The Alchemist shuddered. Fuck, why were her hands trembling ? An adrenaline crash ? It had to be there, and she wasn’t that surprised but the timing was really inappropriate. She had instructions to give !

« The laundry, very important too. Shen-shixiong will suffer vaginal discharge while he’s sitting the month. I… I put some cloth between his legs, so regular check-ups for this… a bit of blood is expected, but too much could indicate a tear in the womb or infection... »

A long and sudden yawn put a stop to her rambling. The Madam snorted, her grassy smell adopting citrusy notes of amusement.

« Would the Mistress Alchemist be kind enough to remember when she last slept ? » the healer inquired, one eyebrow arched.

Chen Qingxu blinked, then mentally added the days. Before leaving Cang Qiong with Shen-shixiong, she had been busy in her labs, so…

« Around three weeks ? This one doesn’t pay attention to anything beyond her current project, unless her disciples burn or explode something they really oughtn’t, these brats. »

Both women looked quite unimpressed. And they should be ! How could one apprentice be stupid to the point that he would manage to dissolve a three-hundred-years-old ritual bronze cauldron with nothing but cinnamon and liquorice, it was beyond her ability to comprehend. She didn’t miss this particular dunderhead at all – in her opinion, the day he finally killed himself with his refusal to abide common sense was an auspicious one for her Peak.

« We lowly ones are grateful to Mistress Alchemist for her assistance » the Madam decided to tell. « Mistress Alchemist can rest and we will take care of what is needed. »

Chen Qingxu almost protested she wasn’t that tired, swallowed another yawn and internally mused the other woman might actually have a point. She started to rise from her crouch – and her knees were killing her after spending several minutes at her martial sibling’s bedside – when a long scholarly hand grabbed her sleeve.

Shen-shixiong was looking at her, his brilliant eyes a sliver of green behind half-closed eyelids.

« Stay. »

She could have forcibly loosened his grip on her sleeve. She didn’t.

« This shixiong ought to know his shimei snores » she bluntly revealed, « and he has to be well-rested. »

He was still holding her sleeve. She turned a frown towards the Madam and the healer.

« Won’t someone take pity on this poor, wretched woman ? Zhangmen-shixiong would fillet me if he ever came to learn Shen-shixiong lured me to his bed before he could slip in. »

Yue Qingyuan might be a very polite and civilized qianyuan, he nonetheless was qianyuan and Chen Qingxu refused to wage her life and health on the meager possibility that he wouldn’t manifest territorial and mating instincts regarding Cang Qiong Mountain’s kunze Peak Lord.

The Madam outright pushed her on the bed, and the healer stole her shoes – these traitors.

« Biding goodnight to Mistress Alchemist » the older woman said as they left the room, « we have seen worse knotheads than Yue Qingyuan and sent them running for the hills, so you shan’t be troubled on this front. »

Chen Qingxu snorted as the door closed, then twitched as her martial sibling rearranged the blankets to have her securely tucked at his side, the newborn nestled between them.

« I wasn’t joking about snoring » she warned.

Shen-shixiong merely sighed and closed his eyes before starting to… yes, he was purring. A soft vocalization that sounded out of place for him, as if he wasn’t used to produce it.

On a silly impulse, Chen Qingxu idly stroked his silky hair. Not the slightest shiver.

This shixiong of hers, he really wanted to complicate everything, didn’t he ?

Chapter Text

Sleeping in a kunze’s nest was rumored to be an extremely intimate experience. Chen Qingxu found it quite resting, as she let herself sink into slumber like a pebble dropped by the jingwei bird would sink under the waves of the ocean and only stirred when the door softly creaked.

« Here’s breakfast for Master Shen and Mistress Alchemist » a far too cheery voice called. « Where shall I put it ? »

Some women were the very picture of sophisticated grace and poise no matter the circumstances. A barely woken up Chen Qingxu suffered from the unability to express herself in another way than grunting until she dunked her head in her filled bathtub – she willingly forgot to empty it for this purpose.

She flailed a bit – managing to not hit Shen-shixiong or his newborn, a true blessing for he surely would have bitten her head off otherwise – and the servant likely interpretated this as a command to leave the food tray on the floor before leaving. Good, this way she wouldn’t have to suffer a witness to her morning clumsiness.

Well, Shen-shixiong might see her – if he opened his eyes right now – but she just had seen him covered with blood and shit and poisoned sweat, so he had no real leg to stand on and call her undignified.

On the matter of the breakfast tray… it smelled rather good : two bowls of congee, one plain and one garnished with red beans and minced scallions, pan-fried meatbuns, egg and spinach pancakes and a steaming clay pot filled with ginger tea. It looked like the healer did remember her warning about a new mother’s need for a protein-heavy diet.

Mournfully extracting herself from Shen-shixiong’s warm and comfy nest of blankets, the Alchemist crawled towards the oh-so-tempting aromas and stuffed a meatbun in her mouth. It was crispy under her teeth, the pork meat filling her mouth with its juices and yet… she wanted something sweeter and fruity, warm and golden flesh she would lick and bite and gorge herself on…

Fuck, where was the bathroom ? She really wanted to scrub the last shreds of sleep from her eyelids.

Being a pragmatic woman, the Madam has placed a small washroom containing a basin and a pitcher filled with water alongside a soap bar and a stack of coloured towels. Chen Qingxu mentally noted to herself that the woman deserved a gold tael for this.

When she felt a human being at least and no longer a pitiful lump of mushy brain-matter, she went back to the bedroom in which she had left Shen-shixiong – now awakened, lying on his side and busy looking at the infant suckling his barely swollen breast as if the tiny creature had just rewritten the world’s universal laws.

Chen Qingxu scrunched her nose. Well, the child seemed healthy enough to feed – it would have been another matter if they had been too weak to try and beg for their mother’s milk.

She carefully lifted the breakfast tray and went to daintily sit on the bed, right besides the kunze who warily glanced at her.

« Would Shen-shixiong rather begin with the pancakes or the congee ? » she asked him, as she balanced the tray on her lap.

The green eyes glinted, reminiscent of a cat suspecting a trap when presented with a hand begging for pets and attention.

« … Not hungry » he ultimately spoke.

Chen Qingxu looked at him. He looked at her. A hint of burnt ink soured her usual smell of mulberry paper and camellia seed oil.

« If this kunze wishes to feed his child from his own body, he will have to build his energy reserves and fatten a bit » she reminded him. « Or does he want to see the child starve to death ? »

« Not hungry » the stubborn ass insisted, his eyebrows pinched in a frown that could have passed for intimidating but now just seemed pitiful. « Nauseous. »

« Then you shall drink ginger tea to alleviate this, and you can eat this lovely breakfast. »

Shen-shixiong pouted. He pouted .

« Shen Qingqiu » the fed-up Alchemist enunciated with all the serenity of a fire-mountain about to bury the whole countryside under searing ashes and molten rock, « this humble shimei wants nothing but shutter herself back in her laboratory to dissect her newts and ensure her disciples are not burning her Peak down. Instead of this, she had to drag your knocked up and poisoned self in a brothel and help you to give birth in spite of being thoroughly unqualified as a physician. So help me and eat your food before it gets cold and I start strangling you with the utmost glee, you fucking asshole. »

Never had she more empathized with Liu Qingge’s open hostility towards the Qing Jing Peak Lord, and this horrendous truth gave her the urge to shrivel and die in a fire. Commonality with Liu Qingge ! Next she would share her tea and snacks with the brute !

Shen-shixiong blinked and opened his mouth, probably wanting to further plead his lack of appetite – only for her to stuff a pork dumpling between his teeth. He choked a bit but he swallowed, helped by soft gulps of ginger tea as she held the cup to his pale lips. He looked at her with watery, blown-up irises as she plunged a spoon within the red bean and scallion congee and offered it to him.

«  Eat  » she gleefully commanded him just the way she would threaten an unruly Disciple to use them as her subject for the next anatomy lesson if they wouldn’t stop being stupid and destroying their supplies and work stations.

Shen-shixiong ate. It was quite the perilous endeavour to spoonfeed someone lying on a bed, especially when said someone frets about sitting up because it would disturb the infant they’re cuddling. Still, they managed – without one single stain to show on the sheets.

Both congees, all of the meatbuns and a half of the pancakes were consumed when Shen-shixiong firmly refused to ingest another crumb. At this point, Chen Qingxu considered his food intake acceptable and relented – he already looked healthier, his sharp cheekbones flushed and his eyes unmurky and alert.

When the Alchemist cradled his wrist in her hands, his qi felt sluggish and cold as a wet and shivering baby chick that fell in the water in spite of being unprepared to deal with the sudden and inevitable hypothermia.

« As expected, Shen-shixiong will have to sit the month » she concluded before folding her hands on her lap. « Would this shimei be allowed to examine the newborn ? »

The kunze stilled , and Chen Qingxu tensed – wondering if she would need to flee the room. A kè stretched before Shen Qingqiu turned towards the Alchemist, letting her see the infant swaddled in soft faded pink cloth.

The tiny, scrunched face was slightly less red than immediately following the birth. Yet their smallness shocked Chen Qingxu anew and she blinked.

« Well, that’s hello to you, this Auntie suppose… Heavens, I can’t believe I have a little nephew. Or a little niece ? »

« That’s a boy » Shen-shixiong rasped and Chen Qingxu frowned.

« Are you sure of it ? »

The kunze hissed, a wretched and exhausted sound.

« The… the sire was male. So he’s a boy. »

So Shen-shixiong had produced a kunze son. The Alchemist absentedly mused any noble bloodline would have celebrated the event – a kunze male couldn’t inherit, of course, but the family in which he would marry would have heirs aplenty and that meant prestige.

That was almost as good as being born a zhongyong male, and it was a lot better than being born a qianyuan.

The Alchemist hummed in her throat.

« Is the sire aware of having reproduced ? »

This was important to know if some Imperial official or Duke – because Shen-shixiong had standards and would never lower himself to bed lower quality suitors – would complain about having a bastard, very unlikely due to the child’s gender and Shen-shixiong’s own cultivation prowess and beauty, or would send a proposal to Cang Qiong Mountain in the close future.

Damnit, Zhangmen-shixiong would go territorial over the whole affair. He might even draw his sword and cut the sire’s head for deflowering Shen-shixiong, the knothead !

Shen-shixiong’s face was as welcoming and warm as a blizzard in the Northern Desert.

« He doesn’t know, and if he did, he wouldn’t care » he spat with such venom it would have dissolved steel.

Chen Qingxu could sniff a story behind this awful bitterness, but she was smart enough to not poke a sleeping bear in the eye. She enjoyed living, after all.

Chapter Text

Right after breakfast, clean nappies were needed – for both mother and child. Alright, it might been a little mean to tell Shen-shixiong he was wearing a diaper, but he did have cloth wrapped around his hips and between his legs because he was leaking blood and piss from his unmentionable parts and it wouldn’t stop for five to eight weeks.

Chen Qingxu couldn’t let him bathe, it would have merely destabilized his qi further and opened him to potential illness and infection, so he would have to be content with a lightly wet towel scrubbing him clean.

Shen-shixiong had been… surprisingly calm as she took care of him. Sure, he had growled a bit when she had patted him near his junk but he otherwise let her handle his body without throwing a shrieking fit, not even the slightest protest.

The Alchemist suspected the Qing Jing Peak Lord from being high on post-partum hormones : kunze were at their most paranoid yet paradoxically trusting right after delivering offspring, so exhausted and focused on their newborn they were that they would allow an acquaintance they otherwise hated to take care of them.

A lot of families ensured their kunze sons and daughters and brides wouldn’t try to rebel and run away from home by constantly pampering and secluding them in the lap of luxury as long as they were pregnant and recovering from pregnancy. It was extremely effective.

Chen Qingxu knew where she stood with Shen-shixiong : he didn’t hate her to the point he would have screaming matches with her as he would do with Liu Qingge or to storm out every time she wanted to engage in conversation as he would do to Zhangmen-shixiong, but he had no love for her either. And he still allowed her in his and his child’s vicinity.

Motherhood softened the mighty Xiu Ya Sword to an alarming degree, the other Peak Lords would be flabbergasted and blustering in disbelief if they could see him compliant and lazing in his nest of blankets, purring for the small child that blinked unseeing eyes at him.

If they could see him…

What would happen if Chen Qingxu brought Shen-shixiong back to Cang Qiong Mountain with his newborn and his smell plainly exposing him as kunze ?

It would be quite the stir, no doubting about it. For a kunze to hide themselves and refuse to unveil their disposition to the ones they named their martial siblings, the ones that should have their back no matter what and adore them as a priceless treasure… it implied bad things, the kind of bad things that often saw households purged from history’s records.

Was Shen Qingqiu genuinely unhappy with the sect as a whole ?

The Alchemist frowned as she pondered over the question, trying to remember as much as she could from her limited interactions with the other Peak Lords. In all her memories, Shen-shixiong had justifiable grounds to complain… but he doused himself with perfume, anyone with a nose would have no other choice than dissonance.

The perfume. She always came back to the perfume. Why would her shixiong smother his natural odor ?

It made no sense whatsoever for him to lie about his disposition, he didn’t give off any vibe of wanting to transition to zhongyong but he certainly enjoyed his comfort, and being a kunze was a guarantee of a life spent in comfort.

If Shen Qingqiu had joined the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect as a kunze, he would have been spoiled rotten by the former and current generation of Peak Lords. Even his most snippy martial siblings would have doted on him, protected and respected him as if he was the Empress and they lowly peasants.

But he had picked ostracism instead. Why ?

What are you afraid of, Shen Qingqiu ? Because it might seem farcical for anyone with eyes to see your temperament but that’s the only possibility that makes sense. You are afraid to the point you would deny yourself the birthright the Emperor himself wouldn’t begrudge you. Why is that so ?

Chen Qingxu’s brows were pinched as she watched over her shixiong, the man looking about to fall asleep again with his long black hair covering a third of the bed in inky darkness. She couldn’t imagine someone wishing to hurt him – fuck, was she getting attached  ? No, she refused to let herself fall so low. She wasn’t softening at all, she just was acting decent towards her martial brother who needed help, and that meant not letting his stubborn ass die from poison or childbirth and share breakfast and climb into the same bed for cuddling and maybe getting to lick and taste this smooth, sweet-scented expanse of pale skin…

The Alchemist blinked. What was happening to her ? She was an Immortal Peak Lord from Cang Qiong Mountain, not a slave to her basic instincts ! Even when she had been a pint-sized brat barely able to pass the exam and be accepted as a Disciple, she hadn’t felt the urge to indulge her basic instincts !

Something was wrong with her – since Shen-shixiong had been revealed as a kunze, her mind just wouldn’t stop giving her disgusting ideas…

Since Shen-shixiong had allowed his natural smell to slip free…

Oh. Did Shen-shixiong’s odor cause a lowering of inhibitions if he couldn’t smother it under perfume ? Because not wanting to be at the epicenter of an orgy was a very good reason to mask one’s true nature.

It also implied nasty things about the Shen family – mundane human beings weren’t living aphrodisiacs, after all. That was succubi’s domain.

Did a succubus whelp a male child from a fling with a human victim ? They were supposed to be female but that didn’t mean they couldn’t bear male younglings. And who would admit they were the product of a demon-human affair ? No matter the willingness or unwillingness of the participants involved, it was asking to be burned at the stake by a frenzied mob of peasants and righteous cultivators.

Chen Qingxu discarded the hypothesis after examinating it for several kè. Shen-shixiong smelled far too good to be from demon stock – a hint of rot or sulphur or blood always managed to find a way in their scents, unless the demon had cultivated to such a high level they could dampen their overall level of qi and presence. It took huge amounts of power, and Shen-shixiong was more known for his pin-point control and precision than his strength in his cultivation.

So, her shixiong wasn’t demon-blooded but he certainly was far enough from belonging to the garden variety of humans. Maybe a flower or other plant spirit was present in his bloodline ? Considering his overpowering peaches scent, it wouldn’t be so far-fetched – and many herbs would reduce the unlucky bystander stumbling upon them to a quivering, aroused mess.

She would have to go and visit Mu-shidi for his herbal compendiums. Anyway, she already was slated to snoop around his clinic for more information on neonatal care – even if cultivators were supposed to rise above the need for sex and a family, many of them still wanted to keep these and as such, Qian Cao Peak needed to stay prepared for intervening in the appropriate manner.

The trick would be to display enough sneakiness to not make Mu-shidi suspicious of her motives or he would start asking questions, and the Alchemist knew she would crumble under the physician’s gentle yet unrelenting prodding, then the other Peak Lords would descent on the brothel just like starving locusts would flock together and fall upon the crops. Even if the prospect of watching the Madam verbally eviscerating Zhangmen-shixiong for trepassing was hilarious, Chen Qingxu firmly believed they could wait for the First Month Celebration to be introduced to their brand-new nephew.

This way, Shen-shixiong would have recovered and be able to decide if he wanted to let their martial siblings learn the truth of him or if he wished for his lie to continue.

Chapter Text

Chen Qingxu, Ling Shu Peak Lord of the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, was far from being ugly but no one in their right mind would ever accuse her from being pretty. She further aggravated her plainess by outright refusing to clean herself up no matter the circumstances – Yue Qingyuan had the sinking suspicion that she wouldn’t brush her hair and slough her usual leather apron off even if the Emperor called for her to come at court.

So when she appeared in front of him to give her report regarding her latest ingredient-gathering mission in stained robes and messy braids and stinking of sweat to high heavens, the Sect Leader barely granted himself a moment to mentally despair of his shimei’s lack of care for herself – one day, people would throw money at her in the false belief that she was a begging lunatic and he wouldn’t be surprised at all.

More preoccupating was the absence of Shen Qingqiu besides her. Yes, Yue Qingyuan pushed for the man to help their shimei in spite of his distate for helping their martial siblings – Xiao Jiu always softened when in presence of women, and Chen Qingxu really needed friends that would drag her away from her work station once in a blue moon – but he wasn’t expecting such blatant hostility that they wouldn’t come back together to the sect !

« Did Shen-shidi perform to Chen-shimei’s satisfaction ? » he politely inquired – Shen Qingqiu had been enlisted for his knowledge of beasts and monsters, coupled with his vicious fighting style to ensure a successful culling of the tiger-spotted horned newts, there was no possibility for him to have failed to impress.

Chen-shimei shrugged, her mulberry paper and incense-ink scent tinted with some… amusement ? Frustration ? Yue Qingyuan wasn’t familiar enough with her to easily interpret her smell.

« He let a newt bite him » she bluntly revealed. « I left him in a brothel to get better. »

Yue Qingyuan wanted to hide his face in his hands. He barely managed to keep his calm, forcing himself to breathe through the nose.

« That was quite irresponsible of you, if Shen-shidi was poisoned. »

How he could articulate these words without letting his anger show on his face, he didn’t know. He just knew Xiao Jiu had been left behind (abandoned again) to suffer and maybe die (again).

Chen-shimei snorted.

« He still was able to eat and speak when I entrusted him to the whores’ care, and this one doesn’t think you could find more devoted nurses than these women in the whole Middle Kingdom. Also, have a little faith in my prowess as a Mistress Alchemist, Zhangmen-shixiong ! Your shimei knows her craft, or she wouldn’t have risen to her exalted position of Peak Lord. »

That… was a little better. Yue Qingyuan nonetheless felt the caged beast that his qianyuan instincts were growl and hiss to be unshackled and run free.

« Chen-shimei indeed is a peerless Alchemist, but she’s not a trained physician » he pointedly reminded her. « If Chen-shimei truly worried for her shixiong’s health, wouldn’t have Shen Qingqiu better served by being attended by Mu-shidi in his hour of need ? »

« Bringing Shen-shixiong to Qian Cao Peak would have wasted too much time » the frumpy zhongyong woman serenely answered, « and Shen-shixiong declined, anyway. This one isn’t tired from living yet, to try and force the Xiu Ya Sword to adopt a course of action he has no intent to follow ! »

He couldn’t argue with her argument. People never won when they wanted to make Xiao Jiu bend to their wishes – not even Yue Qingyuan himself, and he was the only person for whom Xiao Jiu had felt a modicum of fondness ( but it wasn’t the case anymore ).

He sighed while his instincts moaned their unhappiness in front of this triumph of rationality and self-control.

« If Zhangmen-shixiong has no further need of this shimei » Chen Qingxu announced, « I would leave you and finally deliver these newts to our shidi from Zui Xian Peak. She did stress how important it was to dissolve their venom in the liquor before the rice wine could ferment too far. »

« This Sect Leader shall confess he still worries about someone getting sick from drinking the brew you and Shi Qingxuan will prepare to bottle and sell on the market » Yue Qingyuan expressed.

The use of venomous beasts for the promotion of vitality and health was recorded and carefully documented since the Second Royal Dynasty, but outright throwing a whole newt within a tank full of alcohol and wait for the essence to be absorbed by the liquor couldn’t be anything but hazardous to the foolishly brave soul daring to consume the mixture.

« Feh ! » Chen Qingxu sniffed, very much sounding like a cat sneezing from distaste. « How would this enterprise be possibly more dangerous than eating raw snake bile or dehydrated geckos to cure hair loss or increase sexual performance ? At least Shi Qingxuan is nothing but clean and careful when brewing her wares, you won’t find a cockroach in your cup unless it figured on the recipe ! »

Immediately after throwing these words to her Sect Leader’s face, the scrawny Alchemist pivoted on her heel and ran away from the room, not even waiting for him to give her the permission to go. He almost shouted after her – but what would have it achieved ? Chen-shimei bothered as much with social conventions and good manners as she did with cleanliness.

( just like Xiao Jiu never bothered before coming to Cang Qiong )

Xiao Jiu. Was he actually alright ? What if Chen Qingxu had missed a hint of weakness – she wasn’t close with the Qing Jing Peak Lord, and Shen Qingqiu could be so hard to read…

Yue Qingyuan hissed as a pang of longing and bewildered hurt throbbed deep in his belly. Since this disastrous mission with Shen Qingqiu slightly more than eight months ago, his qianyuan nature grew more restless and unruly than he thought possible.

When Yue Qi had been accepted as a Disciple on the Qiong Ding Peak, everyone believed he would amount to nothing or so little that it wouldn’t really make a difference. He was qianyuan – nothing but a slave to his basic lusts and instincts. No one would trust a qianyuan with any true power and responsability beyond the military – there, warm bodies to throw at the enemy always were sought and gladly welcomed.

Yue Qi had been a slave. He had been nothing for his entire life – except in Xiao Jiu’s eyes. Xiao Jiu had needed for Qi-ge to be something , and so the malnourished brat couldn’t let the world reduce him to less than something.

Everything Yue Qingyuan was, Yue Qi became out of devotion. Even when he lived through these wretched, nightmarish years in which he believed Xiao Jiu died burned alive in the Qiu manor, he had lived because dying would mean killing Xiao Jiu again, letting no one to remember him in the world, no matter how potent the temptation of slitting his own throat with Xuan Su grew.

Such was the curse of a qianyuan, loving so deeply and fiercely it confined to madness. Would Xiao Jiu be disgusted by Yue Qingyuan for being unable to rein himself in ? For being nothing but a dog panting after his master, caring for nothing but a look and a voice even if they were deprived of fondness ? He likely would.

But Yue Qingyuan had nothing else to give Xiao Jiu. Such a wretched person he was, to revel in his possessive instincts. He wasn’t even good enough a qianyuan to protect the one he wanted to keep safe above all.

He wasn’t good enough a qianyuan to give Xiao Jiu anything that would make him happy.

Chapter Text

Mu Qingfang had long enjoyed a cooly professional, almost amiable relationship with his shijie Chen Qingxu. His Shizun and predecessor actually encouraged him to create some kind of bond with the Disciple Successor to the Ling Shu Peak, pointing how Alchemy and medicine weren’t so different from each other. And both Peaks exchanged a lot in ingredients, techniques, sometimes students – wouldn’t it be a disaster to impede such harmonious symbiosis because the Peak Lords couldn’t stand each other ?

Mu Qingfang had listened to the advice. He never had cause to regret it : for all her refusal to follow societal conventions such as polite manners and her startling lack of compassion towards everyone and everything (he couldn’t help but wonder if Chen Qingxu had removed her own heart to not let it impede her in her scientific pursuits, it sounded like something she would gleefully and remorselessly do), Chen Qingxu was a competent and driven Alchemist, who occasionally emerged from her fume-choked lab to discuss medicines and drugs with the physician and the Zui Xian Peak Lord.

Having her coming to his personal study in order to talk about something intriguing she found while traveling for ingredients wasn’t unusual. Nonetheless, what she was saying to him… Mu Qingfang felt his brows threatening to collude together as he frowned.

« On the travel back to Cang Qiong, Shen-shixiong asked to stop in a brothel and I smelled a very curious scent in the etablishment. Pray tell, Mu-shidi, what kind of disease could make the sufferer reek in such a manner it would make people around hungry ? »

Such abruptness, not even bothering with a greeting. Granted, his shijie never bothered to tell hello or goodbye but she appeared distinctly frazzled , a nervous energy buzzing right beneath her skin and bubbling in her scent, betraying her stoic expression. Chen Qingxu had been startled and she still worried about it.

Chen Qingxu wasn’t a cultivator to let herself be upset by small things, so Mu Qingfang would treat the matter with the seriousness it deserved.

« Is Chen-shijie certain it wasn’t a perfume she fell afoul of ? Maybe a cooked dish – some can be quite pungent and linger in the cook’s garments. »

The woman’s dark eyes narrowed, glinting with a catlike sharpness.

« This Mistress Alchemist swears to her shidi, the perfume was rinced and the food came much later. This smell, it was... »

She hesitated, seeking for the right description. Mu Qingfang waited.

« It was » she slowly revealed, « as if I had been dumped within a den of succubi. But I wasn’t feeling lust for flesh, I wanted… I just felt hungry . »

« Craving for something in particular ? » the physician inquired – wanting to consume odd foodstuffs often pointed an underlying condition or the need for a vital nutrient.

His shijie pursued her thin lips.

« … Peaches. Candied peaches. He – the smell was so good . »

Now, Mu Qingfang genuinely worried. Every time Chen Qingxu grudgingly consented to eat, she favoured meaty dishes and glutted herself on fish whenever she was given the opportunity – the physician actually witnessed her throwing a hungry look at the ornamental carps from one of Qiong Ding’s decorative ponds – and utterly scorned everything green and sugary.

Yet here she stood, dreaming about candied fruit. By her disturbed look, she was aware she needed an intervention.

« This humble physician’s library is open to Chen-shijie » Mu Qingfang announced, and a brief whiff of relief transpired in the woman’s scent before she buried it under her usual iron self-control.

Of course, that wasn’t quite so simple. There was two of them, and a fruity scent making people (potentially only the ones with spiritual power, Chen Qingxu had noticed the prostitutes from the establishment didn’t react as she did around the sufferer) hungry was a distinctive symptom, but it nonetheless left them with piles upon piles of books and compendiums to carefully browse without losing their concentration or goal. Powerful lords and officials employed teams of research assistants for a reason .

It was so late the evening that it teethered on ungodly early the morning when Mu Qingfang stumbled upon a manual from the restricted section – in which were archived all the writings related to various abominations such as Soul Devouration or creating a human cauldron with demonic methods. The physician never enjoyed rifling through these shelves because he would consistently learn more about the dismaying depths of human depravity.

And yet it contained an answer – a possible answer.

« Chen-shijie, did the sufferer cry in front of you ? »

The Alchemist straightened, dropping her own book on the low table to come and look over his shoulder.

« What did Mu-shidi find there ? » she asked, her messy braid almost touching the physician’s cloth-covered neck.

He flipped the book close to show her the faded cover and the characters serving as a title.

«  Writings of the Guyueye Masters… huh, never heard of this sect. »

« Because they have been destroyed » Mu Qingfang told the Alchemist. « The first ruler to the previous dynasty, the Jianlong Emperor, commanded for them to release their recipes for immortality elixirs and pills because he refused to trust his legacy to one of his sons, seeing them all as failures. The Guyueye Sect Leader burnt the library instead and scattered his disciples to ensure their recipes wouldn’t be abused by greedy nobles. »

Such a pity – once again, knowledge and wisdom had been destroyed because someone impatient and entitled decided to meddle where they weren’t wanted or worthy to tread. Mu Qingfang felt no compassion towards the ultimate fate of the Jianlong Emperor, dying as he ranted and raved from consuming quicksilver pills prepared by a quack.

« And this book describes a disease that makes the sufferer reek of fruit ? » Chen Qingxu insisted.

« Not a disease, a bloodline » Mu Qingfang corrected, opening the manual at the right page. « The text is uncertain regarding the lineage’s origin, if its roots were divine and expulsed from Heaven or demonic and considered unworthy… there, the name for a descendant. »

The Alchemist was practically embracing the physician from behind, he could hear the cloth of her robes whispering against his.

« Butterfly-Boned… Beauty Feast » she read. « A pretty name, I guess. »

« They’re supposed to be extremely beautiful and attractive » the Qian Cao Peak Lord enumerated, his finger following the column of characteristics peculiar to this bloodline, « crying tears of gold, gifted with potent yin energy no matter their gender, and smelling like freshly-plucked peaches. As shijie can testify about the scent, did the individual she met fulfill the other criterias ? »

« Well, this one didn’t see them cry, but they certainly were beautiful and possessed of a yin constitution » Chen Qingxu admitted. « But this doesn’t explain... »

She suddenly stiffened, a cat alerted by a suspicious noise.

« Mu-shidi. This is a recipe for refining someone into medicine fit for human consumption on this page. »

« Chen-shijie operates on the principle that Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feasts are people and worthy of the consideration and protection a righteous cultivator would grant » the physician commented. « The Immortals Masters that wrote this manual believed otherwise, and probably wouldn’t have changed their mind if challenged on the subject. »

He turned a page, this one covered with mathematical equations to calculate how better ensure a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast would yield quality medicine according their age, weight and spiritual power.

« Drinking a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast’s blood will cure the direst of mortal wounds and terminal illnesses. Partaking of their flesh will grant several years of life and health. Dual cultivation with them will strengthen the meridians, stabilize the qi and renew the jing . Now, wouldn’t it be a shame for such a valuable resource to be sentient ? »

A shame indeed. Medicines derived from the human body were rightfully condemned for being contrary to every precept of morality and ethics. If the dogs couldn’t bear to eat other dogs’ bones, how could parents bear to eat the flesh of their offspring ? Such practices were better left to the demons !

Even if Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feasts were decried as humanoid beasts merely able to mimic human speech and behaviour, Mu Qingfang felt queasy about butchering and consuming a creature bearing a human face.

Chen Qingxu’s face and smell were sour, indicating she too considered such an act beyond what she was able to stomach.

« This shijie will have to beg Mu Qingfang for the lease of his manual » she ultimately said. « She appears to be in need of in-depth reading. »

Chapter Text

A hazy mist wrapped Shen Jiu’s mind, lazily burying his attempts at coherent thoughts under piles and piles of exhaustion and something almost like drunkenness.

He should have been out of his comfy, warm nest. He should have been on his Peak, in his bamboo house – a place he perfectly knew, even if he never really felt safe there. Even if his Disciples were properly cowed into not disrupting his intimacy, the other Peak Lords – he was supposed to call them his martial siblings when none of them would fucking return the sentiment so fuck this noise – would barge in his not-den without the slightest warning, the Sect Leader the worst offender of them all.

(and still Shen Jiu cannot help but think Qi-ge would have the right of it, but how can Shen Jiu trust him when he won’t even explain, won’t even care to remember what they shared)

Shen Jiu should be up and fully awake, but every time he opens his bleary eyes Madam Tang or one of her flowers is there to softly push him back under the heavy blankets or give him food to eat or ginger tea to drink, cooing or humming in amusement or good-natured warmth, it’s alright, everything’s alright, we’re taking care of everything, we’re taking care of you, you only have to rest, only have to care for your little one.

Ahh, that’s right… Shen Jiu just had a baby, didn’t he ?

His baby is a quiet one – a tiny one, even bundled in a fluffy, woolen scarf to keep him warm, constantly cradled within Shen Jiu’s embrace because Shen Jiu needs to keep him close or his baby will disappear – will be taken away – everything good in his life always disappear. That’s a fact written in the world’s very laws of physics, Shen Jiu is not allowed good things. Merely a brief glimpse before they’re ripped away and destroyed in front of his eyes.

And his baby is so perfect, Shen Jiu cannot look at him without feeling the urge to cry, and the half-forgotten memory of a dirty, starving Qi-ge rise from the fogs of his mind, grinning at him with this fucking dumb smile that would make rain fall in the desert, but Xiao Jiu is so small and soft, why wouldn’t I take care of him ?

(why didn’t you, Qi-ge?)

Shen Jiu looked at his baby and sniffed his milky, barely present smell and wondered why someone would ever want to lay a harsh hand on this vulnerable, helpless creature.

(except that Shen Jiu knows far too well what kind of beasts would come for him and his child if the truth surfaced, he knows what happens to little children when they’re left alone)

Neither Madam Tang or her flowers attempted to touch his baby, and he’s happy about it. He doesn’t want for anyone else to touch him, he needs to keep his baby warm and safe and fed and Shen Jiu can’t do that if people take his baby away.

It pinches and chafes a bit ( more than a bit but Shen Jiu has been a slave brat in the streets and a slave brat in the Qiu Manor and a slave brat under Wu Yanzi so he scoffs at pain, nothing will manage to make him scream again, not even going into labour far too soon ) when his baby closes his toothless mouth on Shen Jiu’s nipple and suckles. And it’s tiring – Shen Jiu could almost feel his energy leaving his body through his milk, but that’s alright, his baby is going to grow up and it takes strength.

There was a knot in his lower belly, both tight and loose, Shen Jiu couldn’t bring himself to move because the knot was threatening to unravel whenever he did, weeping blood until a red river was running between his pale legs. He could barely stand the flowers carefully jostling his hips to clean the piss and the blood he was evacuating and wrap his abdomen with soft cloth.

It felt cold whenever the blankets shifted and weren’t immediately adjusted by the flowers – and Shen Jiu never liked cold ( far too easy to die when it’s winter and you’re too poor for a fire and food in your belly ) but now it was seeping in his pores, bonding to his skeleton until his bones became rough ice leeching the slightest hint of warmth he wanted to cover himself with.

Shen Jiu wanted someone to cuddle him under the blankets, someone to hold him and share body heat and tangle limbs. Cold was so much more biting when he was trying to sleep on his own.

(Qi-ge had been a furnace on two legs and Xiao Jiu took ill so easily, it was common sense to let them share the same cot, both of them snuggled impossibly close together, so close you couldn’t tell what belonged to one and what belonged to the other)

(then Qi-ge left and Xiao Jiu now slept alone unless he was paying someone to not flee in disgust from him)

Someone had been there, he dizzily remembered her paper and ink scent, her rythmic snores and the startling, comforting steadiness of her body besides his, she didn’t even need his money, she merely had accepted to lay herself down in his nest and he fell asleep listening her breathing as you would let the sound of rainfall carry you away to welcoming darkness.

Someone had been there, but she wasn’t anymore. Of course she wasn’t, everyone always left – yet Shen Jiu almost cried when he had woken up and realized her smell had disappeared from the bedroom.

He was so stupid to not expect it. He was so tired from expecting otherwise.

(when someone is gone, they won’t ever come back, no matter if they swore they would)

He tried to keep his distress out of his scent, to not disturb his baby but the flowers had to have noticed since they were stroking his hair and playing soft lullabies on the erhu or the dizi, their own smells light and casual to not suffocate him. Shen Jiu was grateful for their attention – he could almost believe they meant it.

When they were busy doting on him, it was easier to forget the tiredness and pain and wet burning in his eyes, always threatening to spill over. To let his mind fill with cotton and misty clouds.

« Aiyah, did this one interrupt something ? »

… He knew this voice. A dispassioned and monotonous tone, underlined by a soft hissing directed towards everything and everyone being annoyances from the highest caliber and accompanied by the smell of still wet ink splashed on mulberry paper.

But… it couldn’t be her.

(when someone is gone, they won’t ever come back, no matter if they swore they would, and she never promised anything)

« Mistress Alchemist shouldn’t worry » Madam Tang’s familiar voice rumbled over his head, and for the love of his life he couldn’t focus and chase the fog away from his mind, « this one merely was checking on Master Shen and his little one’s peaceful sleep. Would the esteemed cultivators want to be left alone ? »

These two last words gave Shen Jiu a furious need to puke, no, don’t go, don’t abandon me again, why is everyone leaving , but his stomach was far too knotted to allow food or bile to rise up his throat so he merely shuddered with his entire body and forced his eyes open.

And she was right there, and it still didn’t make sense.

« It seems Shen-shixiong is awake » Chen Qingxu commented, her eyes wide and dark in her freckled face, peering at him as if he was one of her ongoing alchemical experiments. « Does he want to ask something of this shimei ? »

(you had left and you were supposed to stay gone, everyone always stays gone)

« You’re back. »

Shen Jiu’s voice was nothing but a whisper, a barely audible thing afraid to shatter the dream and summon the cold reality back if he dared to speak louder.

Chen Qingxu slowly blinked.

« I am » she confirmed. « Is there a problem ? »

She gingerly touched his wrist, likely because she wanted to get a feel of his qi , and Shen Jiu could focus on nothing else but the warmth of her hand.

(you came back)

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu never considered sitting the month as anything but a luxury for people far too wealthy for their own sakes. His own wretched mother certainly didn’t stop begging in the streets after she whelped him, or they would have starved in their trash heap.

(he barely remembered his mother but the stink surrounding her, the filth caking her pale skin, her low voice telling him no one could ever get a sniff of their true scents or they would be taken and awful things would happen to them, that he kept in his memory)

Madam Tang and her flowers seemed unbothered by one of their regulars refusing to move from one of their bedrooms, though ; Shen Qingqiu probably had proven that he would suitably compensate the brothel for the services they would give him, be it information or a music night – or a freeloader with a baby staying for several weeks, apparently.

Shen Qingqiu nonetheless had almost succumbed to horrified shame after he finally rested enough to chase the haze clouding his mind away and think coherent thoughts. They had seen him at his lowest point – unable to get up from bed, unable to feed himself, unable to stay clean, such a pitiful, weak, pathetic creature.

But Madam Tang and her flowers already knew about mankind’s weakness, haughty masters and smug officials came to the Red Warm Pavilion in order to let themselves go to pieces and fall from their lofty pedestals, what was one more ?

Still. It didn’t explain Chen-shimei at all.

Chen Qingxu.

She helped for the birth, then she left. Then she came back.

She came back, and she snuggled Shen Qingqiu to sleep while she snored and drooled a bit on the plush mattress, and she spoonfed him his meals while discreetly snatching two or three meatbuns for herself, and she grumbled every time the baby whimpered because he soiled himself yet clumsily helped with the diaper change, and she jotted notes on rough paper sheets ( this one knows this is shitty paper , she had sniffed in front of his pointed gaze, she just needs something on which she will write anything she wants to remember right now ) and muttered about ingredients and hissed in frustration when her current project suffered a setback – that happened a lot, he idly wondered what she was busying herself with.

She came back, and Shen Qingqiu couldn’t understand why.

Shen Qingqiu knew he was hated by the other Peak Lords ( maybe not Yue Qingyuan but that’s almost worse to see pity in these oh-so-familiar eyes, Xiao Jiu has been hated his whole life, he can deal with hatred but he’s not and will never be a fucking pity project ) for being too sharp-tongued, for refusing to indulge their so-called siblinghood, for not thinking the same way this collection of spoiled and pampered young masters and mistresses did. He knew it and he laughed at them, did they actually believe he couldn’t live with their hostility ?

Yet Chen Qingxu came back, and she took care of him and his baby.

Did she feel some kind of obligation towards Shen Qingqiu now that she was aware of his disposition ? But it couldn’t be so, she always was exasperated and annoyed every time the subject of bonds was spoken of, always happier to burrow herself on her Peak and ignore her martial siblings – siblings only in name, even when she called them her brothers and sisters it sounded like a falsehood in her flat voice – she wouldn’t soften merely out of social convention.

It couldn’t be the baby either ; Chen Qingxu looked at the tiny creature as if he was a savage beast about to go on a rampage or a fire talisman about to blow up. Shen Qingqiu wanted to laugh in front of her befuddled panic, an Immortal Mistress Alchemist afraid of some infant unable to sit up was beyond ridiculous. He was too tired to actually laugh, but the corners of his mouth certainly twitched.

The more he thought about it, the more Shen Qingqiu wanted to hurl in fear. He didn’t know what Chen Qingxu wanted to do, he didn’t know why she was doing this, he didn’t know because he didn’t know her and couldn’t predict her. She could be plotting to go back at Cang Qiong and expose him for lying about his disposition and he had no way to know if she would .

(how could he trust Cang Qiong with the truth of him, even a partial truth, after seeing what happens to far too many kunzes who foolishly trusted the wrong person, how can he be sure he won’t be locked away in a silken and gilded cage stopping his screams from being heard)

And he wouldn’t be alone to suffer if she decided to turn against him, because there was the baby and Shen Qingqiu needed to protect him too, but he was alone in wanting this.

(and at first he didn’t even want it, he actually thought about drinking moon-tea and flushing the little parasite out of his womb but he was so weak, so powerless in front of the possibility for someone who would love him with their whole heart and never leave)

It was in the fourth day of the third week that Chen Qingxu utterly lost her patience with her study notes and threw her brush against the wall with the irritated snarl of a feline whose tail has been pulled a time too much. Shen Qingqiu firmly refused to flinch when the wooden instrument clattered once then again when it fell on the floor.

« Fuck this one’s ancestors sideways with a rabid porcupine on eighteen generations  » the Alchemist hissed, « what am I missing ?! I am almost there… ! »

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help a snort as he adjusted his hold on his baby, and Chen Qingxu turned a gimlet eye upon him.

«  You  » she growled, « don’t you even dare to laugh, you son of a turtle, I’m busy trying to find a way to not breathe your stink, because I’m getting tired of getting hungry around you – this one doesn’t even like fruit, but you’re making me crave peaches ! And they’re not in season !! »

Icy water suddenly flooded Shen Qingqiu’s blood vessels and meridians, his still-torpid qi twisting and vainly fizzing out in a hopeless attempt to reinforce him for the upcoming assault.

« What » he managed to say in spite of his dry throat, « is Chen-shimei talking about ? »

The smell of burning paper surrounded the woman as the fighting aura of a merciless demon warlord.

« Shixiong perfectly knows what ails this lowly Alchemist » she snapped. « Or would he rather be called a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast ? »

Trapped, Shen Qingqiu was trapped in the bed, still unable to rise on his own and his qi far too weak to protect himself and his baby, oh Ancestors his baby, she could just pluck his baby from his arms before pinning Shen Qingqiu on the bed and doing what she wanted, she knew what he was, she knew…

She was looking at him with a half-bemused, half-annoyed expression.

« Why is Shen-shixiong making this face ? One would believe I’m about to devour him alive. »

Shen Qingqiu flinched .

(no one can know, his mother’s voice repeated in his ear, or you will be killed and eaten and if you’re very lucky it will be in this order)

« … Shen-shixiong. Are you really thinking this shimei of yours is about to devour you alive ? » Chen Qingxu repeated, his voice flatter than usual and the burnt smell intensifying to the point it verged on suffocating.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord stared at her, putting all his defiance in his gaze.

« Why would this Immortal Mistress spit on such a golden opportunity to further her cultivation ? » he retorted.

Against his breast, his baby had started whimpering and he actively struggled to not choke on Chen Qingxu’s anger, poisoning the confined air within the tiny bedroom.

« This one » the woman carefully enunciated with the serenity of a lava flow spreading on the countryside, « has ascended as the Ling Shu Peak Lord through her own means. Every pill and medicine she took in order to reinforce her dantian and balance her qi , she prepared herself with ingredients she grew and gathered by herself. Everything she achieved, she earned by her own hands. How fucking dare you suggest she would cheat by stealing your power ! »

Shen Qingqiu twitched. That… that wasn’t what he expected to hear at all .

« Congratulations on making me agree with my martial siblings, Shen-shixiong » the Alchemist hissed, « you’re nothing but a fucking pain in the ass and I don’t even know why I’m bothering to help you if you do nothing but throw insults at me ! »

On these words, she turned her back on him and if he had been qianyuan, it would have been a challenge to his dominance, but he was kunze and people turned their backs on a kunze to show submission and trust, yet she had stated she hated him…

It didn’t make any sense, and Shen Qingqiu started to have a headache.

Chapter Text

Chen Qingxu was still fuming in the manner of a rumbling fire mountain when the time for the baby’s one-month celebration came. Shen Qingqiu probably ought to have apologized, but he still was reeling from their confrontation and if someone did know how meaningless apologies coming from one unable to understand the aggrieved party’s anger were, it would be him.

Madam Tang had been very insistent on the matter of throwing a party, in spite of her utter lack of relation to Shen Qingqiu, and all of her flowers gleefully followed her trail and pleaded with their painted eyes and pretty smiles until he folded. Shen Jiu never had been able to refuse anything to Qiu Haitang and his martial sisters on Qing Jing Peak, and Shen Qingqiu still couldn’t refuse his female disciples when they begged him.

So on the fated day, he had let the flowers take him out of his comfy, warm nest in order to give him a blissfully hot bath, comb his hair to an inch of their life and dress him as if he was a life-sized doll for them to disguise as another flower serving in the Red Warm Pavilion. He grumbled a bit, but the unability to properly groom oneself out of fear of further upsetting the qi was a rule he couldn’t help but find distasteful.

Now that his baby was strong enough to leave the cradle of his arms, even if for a few moments, the tiny creature had been bathed, his hair cut to encourage them to grow thick and healthy, and had been returned to his mother swaddled in a little red dress covered with yellow goldfishes.

Shen Qingqiu also had been dressed in vivid red, a ruqun set consisting of a floor-length pomegranate skirt tied right above his breasts and a wide-sleeved blouse, all embroidered with golden peonies. His hair had been twisted in a high, loose bun maintained by a red wooden comb and golden tasseled pins, while a giggling courtesan covered his eyelids and lips with rouge.

« My, should this courtesan call you meimei ? » Lihua the erhu player asked on a half-joking, half-serious tone. « Such a pretty face, customers high and low would beat on our door for a single glimpse of you. »

« Shen-shixiong is very pretty » Chen Qingxu said in the most bored, unimpressed voice you could imagine.

« Just as much as Chen-shimei » Shen Qingqiu retorted.

The Alchemist had been unable to flee the enthusiastic flowers wanting to give her a makeover for the celebration, to her barely veiled displeasure. The results were mixed, for in spite of the powder hiding her freckles, the soft fluttery silk of her deep pink gown and the twin high buns her washed and glossy hair had been pinned in, Chen Qingxu nonetheless looked so awkward one almost regretted the sight of her in a stained apron and messy braids. At least she just looked plain, instead of looking plain in finery.

Chen Qingxu arched the eyebrow in front of his comment before shrugging, and that was it before they went down in the hall decorated for the party.

Garlands of red paper flowers and cranes hanged from the roof, the musicians were more interested in craning their heads to peep at the new mother and the baby than focusing on avoiding jarring notes, and two tables were set apart for the food and gifts because a party wasn’t a proper celebration without presents and elaborate dishes.

Shen Qingqiu did not run out the moment he was greeted by a smiling Madam Tang, it would be the pinnacle of ungratefulness towards these women, but it left him frantically blinking to chase tears away, fucking hormones reducing him to a hysterical mess that just wanted to lie on his back and beg for attention and praise, praise the flowers currently showered him with, how beautiful your son is Master Shen, such lovely dark eyes, you’re doing such a great job, such a loving and caring mother, how lucky he is to have you.

Lucky to have you, lucky to know you, lucky to be your blood, as if Shen Qingqiu could be something other than a plague on everyone he ever met, but he bit his tongue and let the courtesans coo over him and the child busy snoring in his arms.

They had brought a fortune-teller – a rather old lady who sniffed and looked at him weirdly, Madam Tang assured the elder never had laid eyes on a male kunze before and merely was surprised but Shen Qingqiu almost felt his heartbeat come to a stuttering halt – to help calculate the baby’s birth time and pick a fortunate name as a consequence. Madam Tang and Chen Qingxu, being witnesses and attendants to the event, were extensively questioned until the fortune-teller decided she heard enough to make her judgement.

« Born under the sign of the Rabbit » the granny enunciated, « this child will be governed by the element of water. Indeed, this humble one never has seen such a potent association with said element before. It could actually be troubling, hmm... »

Shen Qingqiu laughed at gods and demons and ghosts alike, all of them delighted in pissing on him so he would scorn them equally, yet he frowned as the fortune-teller pondered over the horoscope. Chen Qingxu surprisingly was nodding her head.

« Too much rain or flooding never is good for the crops, it makes the roots sicken and rot » she explained to the curious Lihua.

« It would be better for the child to have a name incorporating wood in some form » the granny decided. « He will never be able to properly grow otherwise, for solid roots are needed to face life. »

Shen Qingqiu was rather suspicious of this, having no roots whatsoever himself ( except for Qi-ge but Yue Qingyuan had shown what he thought of being linked to a dirty street-rat ) and nonetheless managing to become the Qing Jing Peak Lord. Still, enough people believed in such tripe to make his baby’s existence miserable if he wasn’t careful, so….

He chewed on the matter for half a dian, the fortune-teller quietly waiting for him to get enlightened – Madam Tang likely promised her a good reward if she showed the utmost politeness. Then he remembered.

It was nothing more than a silly fable, the childish hope that a idyllic haven could exist somewhere in the world and briefly let a wretched man visit it as he went off the beaten path – only to stumble on an unspoiled wilderness of tremendous beauty. It was nothing but a dream – illusory and deceptive, enhancing the real world’s ugliness by contrast.

And yet the story endured, because people couldn’t help dreaming about something, anything better than their current miserable lives, a prayer for a place of peace and plenty.

A Peach Spring beyond this world.

Cradled in his silk-covered arms, the tiny creature stirred and blinked his dark eyes open. The flowers had marveled at the colour, infants were supposed to be born with blue eyes, yet Shen Qingqiu’s child already had deep black irises, two shards of moonless night in his chubby face.

(his sire’s eyes and Shen Qingqiu doesn’t know if he wants to cry or laugh more in front of this realization)

« Yuan » he declared with gravity, « written with the character for source . And for when he will come of age, Taohua. »

Someone snickered among the flowers busy pretending they weren’t listening, and Madam Tang’s eyebrows shot towards her hairline.

« My » she drawled, « such a passionate venture your son’s conception had to be, Master Shen. »

« Written as peach blossom  » Shen Qingqiu corrected with a hint of blush on his pale cheekbones and neck.

Now, it was Chen Qingxu’s turn to gaze at him.

« As Shen-shixiong wishes » she ultimately said.

« Then it is decided » the fortune-teller sighed. « Let this child be known as Shen Yuan by his family, and Shen Taohua by the world. »

Chapter Text

Yue Qingyuan usually smiled like one who had achieved awakening and released themselves from worldly concerns and the related sufferings – a soft, compassionate expression able to inspire somebody else to strive for righteousness and commit good deeds for what’s left of their natural lifespans.

Sometimes, the Qiong Ding Peak Lord smiled in the almost natural way that indicated he was annoyed out of his gourd but couldn’t allow himself to show it, because some people better left unnamed would immediately pounce on the opportunity to decry him as ill-mannered and blatantly unsuitable for the higher politics his current status asked for him to navigate.

Sometimes, the qianyuan cultivator smiled such a small, fragile grin, such a bitter expression choking on regret and guilt, one just wanted to run away from the deep, gaping chasm threatening to open and swallow you whole and never let you go.

And sometimes, Zhangmen-shixiong smiled in a blissfully euphoric, serene way that convinced the stubbornest interlocutors to do whatever he said them so long as the smile left them alone. It was the kind of smile you would imagine with orange and black stripes, lurking in the jungle because it woke up infuriated and hungry and now sought hapless prey to smile at, right before killing, mauling and eating them – and if the victim was extremely lucky, the sequence would happen in this order.

Mu Qingfang couldn’t help it : he quivered. Shang-shixiong looked ready to faint, Qi-shijie pinched her mouth with such strength her lips were bloodless and white in her pale face, even Liu-shixiong was slightly wild-eyed.

Bearing the full brunt of the Sect Leader’s smile, Chen Qingxu wore the irritated, exasperated face that plainly screamed you are nothing but a fucking knothead and I have no idea why I am wasting my time indulging your foolishness when I could kill you and use your mortal remains for my latest experiments . The physician balanced between disapproval of such open insubordination – qianyuan he might be, the Qiong Ding Peak Lord still has earned his position as Sect Leader – and awe for his shijie’s mental fortitude – not even a twitch, ah !

The cause for their altercation in the meeting was Shen Qingqiu – and Mu Qingfang never enjoyed badmouthing his martial siblings but the sad truth was that the Qing Jing Peak Lord had the undeniable knack to wear on people’s nerves and cause furious upsets wherever he went and opened his mouth. Truly, it was a new achievement – managing to create such distress without being in the same room !

Mu Qingfang was impressed. Not.

« And when, exactly, does Shen-shidi plan to end his seclusion and come back to Cang Qiong ? » Zhangmen-shixiong politely asked, the even and bland tone still letting everyone see how much he wished to shake his shimei by the throat until she confessed Shen Qingqiu’s current hide-out.

Nonetheless, it was a reasonable inquiry. A Peak Lord forced into seclusion because of an injury or illness couldn’t assume their usual duties, so needed for a temporary replacement. And Qing Jing was the second-ranked peak, subordinate to Qiong Ding only – that contributed to the gravity of the matter.

Chen Qingxu shrugged, the movement dislodging one of her braids – and they seemed neater than usual, did she let anyone else care for her hair ? Was it Shen Qingqiu – the man was quite fastidious and unbending regarding appearances, the physician could very well imagine him throwing a fit in front of the Alchemist’s lack of care for herself and yanking her away for emergency combing. He swallowed a rather inappropriate laugh.

« Three years at the very least » she bluntly estimated. « Maybe more if he thinks it would be better, and there’s a not-inconsequential probability for him to feel this way. »

« Is that so ? » Mu Qingfang intervened, his brows scrunched together and the corners of his mouth drooping in a small grimace.

« Indeed » his shijie confirmed, her dark brown gaze holding firm in front of his scrutiny. « Shen-shixiong’s well-being truly depends on it. »

« If his health is so precarious » Liu Qingge suddenly asked, his voice booming like the thunder in a cloudless sky, « why does he refuse to let Mu Qingfang examine him ? Chen Qingxu is nothing but an Alchemist. »

Now, the Qian Cao Peak Lord was certain his battle-oriented shixiong didn’t intent for his remark to sound insulting, but Chen Qingxu’s darkening face informed him that it nonetheless was perceived as such. For such a martially inclined man, the War God had perfectly mastered the science of opening his mouth and putting his foot in it – and he wasn’t even aware of it. No, he was aware of his flaw yet stubbornly refused to correct it.

One day, Liu Qingge would stumble on the opponent that finally would drag him off his lofty pedestal of invincibility. Mu Qingfang would be there to tend his wounds and pointedly remind him he utterly deserved the humiliation.

« Because Shen-shixiong declined when this one offered the suggestion, and because he likely believed proximity with Liu Qingge would do nothing but make him sicker » the Alchemist spat. « And I shan’t blame him for deciding your face makes him puke. »

Mu Qingfang blinked, startled by his shijie’s unusual aggressive stance and words. The Bai Zhan Peak Lord’s reaction was much less subtle.

« Excuse me ?! » he roared, jumping on his feet, and everyone tensed, ready to prevent the qianyuan from drawing his sword on the zhongyong female.

Chen Qingxu snarled .

A surprisingly low vocalisation for her small stature, emerging from her throat as she bared her teeth and a burnt smell surrounded her, shocking the room into stillness. Liu Qingge had his mouth hanging open, surprised as a tiger threatened by a feral cat, while Shang-shixiong went cross-eyed trying to reconcile the Ling Shu Peak Lord’s behaviour with her usual impassivity.

Mu Qingfang desperately wondered himself what happened on this mission for Chen Qingxu to manifest such protectiveness towards Shen Qingqiu. They barely had a work relationship, so don’t even ask about a bond !

… Or maybe it wasn’t so farfetched a possibility, the physician suddenly mused. Snap bonding could and did happen when highly stressing situations occurred and forced people to support and rely on each other. Indeed, many cultivation sects used to send disciples on perilous missions to encourage them to develop close ties through a trial to fight together. It now was considered an extremely controversial approach to internal harmony, since it far too often saw promising young men and women failing to surpass their difficulties and die in variously gory and painful ways – something that wasn’t enough to fully ban the practise, alas.

If the mission really had been so dangerous Chen Qingxu had found herself in a caretaker and protector position to Shen Qingqiu, she likely had been snap-bonded to the Qing Jing Peak Lord – just as he was to her after accepting her help and running interference with the other Peak Lords.

What in the name of his most recent Ancestors’ had happened on this mission ? The Alchemist never implied it had been so bad – but she never implied anything, she would treat losing her dominant hand as trite, why did he believe her when she assured everything was fine ?

She obviously wasn’t fine, her eyes closed and her chest heaving as she noisily breathed out her nose.

« This one is going back to her Peak » she declared, every word escaping from behind her gritted teeth, « and won’t receive any visitor until she feels able and willing to entertain without ripping their throat. Consider yourselves warned. »

Then she turned away and ran out of the room, the smell of burnt paper staying behind.

« Well » Shi Qingxuan hiccuped, his eyes wide with terrified amazement, « Chen-jie was in a mood today ! Such a shame I couldn’t even thank her for the newts, they were exactly as juicy as my Peak needed ! »

Besides the Zui Xian Peak Lord, Shang-shixiong gagged.

Chapter Text

Chen Qingxu naturally took pride in her achievements – why wouldn’t she, when she rose to Peak Lord within the most powerful sect in the Empire – but most of all, she prided herself on her iron-cast control over her own body. She had mastered it until she became akin to a cold statue, needing no food nor sleep and utterly serene and devoid of passionate outbursts.

So she was nothing short of discomfited, appaled and pissed off for her little stunt at the Peak Lords’ meeting – against herself or Liu Qingge or Zhangmen-shixiong or even Shen-shixiong, maybe all of this at the same time. She was supposed to be above such behaviour !

She was pretty sure that Mu-shidi was starting to suspect something fishy regarding her, his gaze almost burned a hole in her head by its sheer intensity and focus. Already a trembling outer disciple brought her a small note written by the physician, reassuring that he would always keep his door open for one needing his help.

Her answer to this had been a mite too rude as she clumsily wrote back that she would certainly not bother with asking his help unless she was on her deathbed. Gods damn it, her nerves were so frayed, she couldn’t believe they didn’t snap all the way.

The Alchemist really needed to find a way to neutralize Shen-shixiong’s scent, it was driving her round the bend and she wouldn’t allow it, she hadn’t let her worthless father or scum mother dictate her life and now that she had attained one of the most coveted positions in the cultivation world she wouldn’t start turning into a wet blanket !

Alright, Shen-shixiong carefully rinced his smell away before dousing himself in perfume – before going back to Cang Qiong, she asked for his supplier because wow, it was high-quality product, she might like to exchange tips one day – but why would Chen Qingxu let another person do every bit of heavy lifting ? She was the Ling Shu Peak Lord ! Her Peak was one of innovators and engineers and alchemists, striving to learn anything there was to learn under the sky or to create everything that could be dreamed of, no matter how stupid or impossible it may seem !

No matter the method or artefact or recipe, Ling Shu would improve it ! Their pride wouldn’t let them do anything less, and that was why Chen Qingxu would create the perfect odor eliminator ! Nothing was beyond her !

… Well, maybe turning her martial brother and his newborn child into pills was, she mentally amended. Not because she didn’t know how to prepare a human corpse for refining and drug-making, but because she couldn’t stand the possibility of lowering Cang Qiong’s level of intellect by murdering the smartest person living there.

Also, Zhangmen-shixiong would gruesomely murder her if she even twitched wrong in Shen-shixiong’s general direction.

So, she would go back at ignoring Shen-shixiong unless he asked her for something – and to her great and heart-rending dismay, he apparently was bent on keeping her as his physician in spite of Mu-shidi being so much more qualified and her being very happy in her Alchemist speciality, fuck his mother and eighteen generations of his ancestors for insisting and fuck her own ancestors for letting herself accept, the traitor had worn her resistance to nothing as she was busy digesting a deliciously crispy dish of duck pickled in soy sauce – and she would pray for her martial siblings to promptly forget the whole incident.

Deep inside her stone-cold, hardened heart, Chen Qingxu was aware that her prayer wouldn’t be heard. Gods were far too busy marvelling at their own greatness and the other Peak Lords far too hungry for gossip and scandal to let the matter be buried and forgotten as a measly robber down on their luck. Knowing this bitch Qi Qingqi, the female qianyuan was convinced that Chen Qingxu was fucking Shen-shixiong on the sly, as if she looked the slightest bit interested in that kind of disgusting entertainment.

Crap, Qi Qingqi likely would expose her theory to Shi Qingxuan, and her shidi would chase the Alchemist all around the mountain range to beg for juicy details. The inability to leave Cang Qiong’s grounds had nurtured a positively unhealthy interest for other people’s dirty laundry in the Zui Xian Peak Lord.

And since Shi Qingxuan was unable to keep her goddamn mouth shut, Chen Qingxu’s reputation was about to plummet lower than the lowest level of Diyu. She would have to stock on explosive talismans and mild poisons, because she absolutely needed to defend herself from the upcoming wave of accusative speculation and dark glares and none of these damned assholes would get the message without ash-covered faces or half a day wasted on the toilet.

Oh, she couldn’t wait for Shen-shixiong to come back and suffer – he dragged her into his mess, then he had the gall to use the parental leave card to abandon her to the wolves, oh, she would personally bring him to Cang Qiong by the feet if he decided he wanted to laze more than three years ! And no, she wouldn’t help him to explain the situation, if he ultimately unveiled his disposition as a kunze and introduced his brat to the other Peak Lords !

Still, she couldn’t imagine him doing so – admitting he was kunze would lead to embarrassing and invasive inquiries about why he hid, and someone would get a sniff of his true smell, then everything would become extremely precarious.

Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feasts weren’t legally people. Unlike slaves, they couldn’t even dream of escaping society by cultivating immortality, their spiritual power far too weak for more than small tricks – and learning this morsel of information made Chen Qingxu look at her shixiong with new eyes, was he an outlier gifted with uncommonly strong spiritual talent or did he actually defy the Heavens and achieve his Peak Lord position in spite of his racial limitations ?

Yet Chen Qingxu was unsure about his fate if it came to light that he wasn’t from pure human stock. Nowhere in the laws, it was written that a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast couldn’t become a righteous cultivator… and nowhere in the laws, it was written that becoming a righteous cultivator would protect a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast from being used as a cauldron and ultimately refined into medicine.

It probably would come down to what kind of people would decide what to do with Shen-shixiong. The cultivation world at large… would be furious about some thing managing to fool them for several decades, and push for immediate punishment – the Alchemist could see the Old Palace Master leading the charge, the ancient fart that really should have died instead of hogging air to breath was always on the prowl for a way to discredit Cang Qiong and the second highest-ranked Peak Lord dragged in the mud would be a dream come true in his eyes.

Within Cang Qiong itself… Chen Qingxu genuinely hesitated on giving an answer. Sure, Liu Qingge and Qi Qingqi would throw the unholy mother of all epic tantrums because they couldn’t stand Shen-shixiong, the Ku Xing Peak Lord would fall into depression because Cang Qiong had been tainted , and Wei Qingwei and Mu Qingfang would drink all of Shi Qingxuan’s emergency stash of hard liquors because dealing with such a massive shitstorm sober was beyond their frankly impressive capacity for patience.

Zhangmen-shixiong… well, no need to actually wonder about him. He would go berserk, and people everywhere would sadly cluck their tongues and declare that a qianyuan truly was ruled by his base instincts and that the previous Sect Leader did a tragic mistake when he picked his successor.

Chen Qingxu… Chen Qingxu thought she wouldn’t involve herself in this mess. It had nothing to do with her, nothing to do with Alchemy, so she wouldn’t.

She didn’t care. Not a bit.

Chapter Text

When he ultimately decided to keep the child busy growing in his belly, Shen Qingqiu has started to prepare for his disappearance. If he wanted for his baby to stay a secret, he obviously couldn’t raise them at Qing Jing Peak – a noisy Disciple would be at risk to stumble upon the child, or the baby would cry a bit too louder, or wouldn’t understand why they couldn’t leave the bamboo house once they would be old enough to run and disregard their mother’s warnings.

So, it was far more prudent to leave Shen Qingqiu’s current life entirely behind him. He wasn’t that attached to his position as a Peak Lord, anyway, accepting the mantle and the duties and the never-ending scorn of his so-called martial siblings merely because Yue Qingyuan once begged him to join Cang Qiong, and Shen Jiu foolishly submitted to what Yue Qingyuan wanted, hoping that the man he formerly knew as his Qi-ge would find the courage to explain why he had left Shen Jiu behind, would reassure Shen Jiu that he didn’t forget he meant everything to a starving slave brat once upon a time.

(Shen Jiu doesn’t know who disgusts him more, Yue Qingyuan for stringing him along or himself for waiting an answer he will never get)

But the child changed everything – Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t have to wait for pitiful scraps of love anymore. Yue Qingyuan wasn’t the lone light in his world anymore, pushed aside by someone who would have no baggage encumbering his relationship with Shen Qingqiu. There would be no pity or guilt in this child’s eyes whenever they would look at Shen Qingqiu.

Sure, a rogue cultivator’s existence wasn’t truly easy or safe at the best of times, but Shen Jiu had survived worse when he was barely a snot-nosed, untrained urchin. He would find a way to land on his feet, he always did.

However, plans had this infuriating tendence to unravel in unplanned ways, and Shen Qingqiu had been forced to give birth far too soon, right under the gaze of his shimei and the flowers of his favourite brothel. On one hand, it was rather embarrassing and it complicated things – Madam Tang and her courtesans would worry if he disappeared, while Chen Qingxu flat-out threatened to chase him if he refused to come back at Cang Qiong after forcing her to intervene in his favour with the other Peak Lords.

On the other hand, it opened opportunities to him. With Chen Qingxu covering for him (she made very clear that it was temporary, her patience had limits) and the Red Warm Pavilion granting him shelter, he could focus on nothing but his child and his damaged cultivation.

Shen Qingqiu had been aware that pregnancy would affect his energies, it was inevitable since his body had devoted a huge portion of his qi to the unborn’s growth, but he wasn’t prepared to feel so… fragile. Almost as delicate as when he was suffering under Wu Yanzi, his half-assed cultivation barely enough to stop him from falling sick because he was eating rotten food or sleeping in the cold.

Almost as delicate as his tiny child, his Yuan’er currently was, born far too early and needing regular qi transfusions from his mother as a consequence. Chen Qingxu had brought some potions and elixirs to help with the baby’s breathing and reducing the possibility of infections, but she nonetheless heavily insisted it would be best for Yuan’er to be kept as close as possible from his mother, in conditions mimicking the womb from which he had been expelled.

Shen Qingqiu hadn’t complained much about the obligation to strap his child to his chest with a soft scarf, even if it resulted in a very unelegant bump when he put his night robes over the whole package but no one would see them since Shen Qingqiu stayed hidden in the small bedroom, far away from prying eyes.

What a strangely meditative experience it was, to lie down in bed and concentrate on the tiny heartbeat right above his own. For the first time, Shen Qingqiu truly felt able to let go of every thought buzzing under his scalp and achieve perfect serenity and tranquility – the vaunted release from disturbing emotions and desires.

Maybe it was blasphemous to think this way, because caring for a child was indeed a worldly pursuit. But Shen Qingqiu never tried to fool himself regarding the odds of him gaining true enlightenment – his heart was far too passionate and tormented for the Qing Jing Peak Lord to ever equal the legendary aloofness and detachment of Heavenly Officials. He had made his peace with it – once a street rat, always a street rat. It was already quite impressive for him to have reached the position of a righteous cultivator.

And now, he also was a parent – someone this tiny creature would rely on, would blindly trust because he didn’t know better, wasn’t aware that Shen Jiu ruined absolutely everything and was so much of a lost cause even the ever-patient and forgiving Yue Qingyuan dropped him like a hot coal without the slightest explanation, he didn’t even deserve that.

Did he deserve to have a child, especially one as vulnerable and helpless as Yuan’er ? Of course he didn’t but Shen Qingqiu was a wretched, selfish scum who hoarded everything he considered valuable close to him, and he would set fire to the world if it allowed him to keep his treasures.

Yuan’er deserved better but Shen Qingqiu was all he had.

(Shen Jiu cannot help but wonder how the sire would react if he ever learnt about Yuan’er but such speculation is beyond him to stomach, he wouldn’t even remember he fucked Shen Jiu in a fit of madness, that’s how worthless Shen Jiu is to him, why would he want to have Shen Jiu’s offspring inflicted upon him)

Well, Yuan’er had Shen Qingqiu and every flower calling the Red Warm Pavilion home : the women just wouldn’t stop cooing over his tiny face and sighing over Shen Qingqiu’s persistent refusal to let someone else carry his baby more than a few fên, bringing colourful clothes and tiny ribbons and tiny shoes as if Yuan’er was a doll for their personal enjoyment.

Since they had dressed Shen Qingqiu for the one-month celebration, the flowers certainly had gained a taste for treating him like a doll, insisting to do his hair in increasingly elaborate updos and make him wear extravagant robes fit for no one else but a highly-priced courtesan, begging for Master Shen’s forgiveness but we couldn’t find more masculine clothes and you just can’t keep wearing the robes in which you came here, it wouldn’t be hygienic.

Shen Qingqiu rather suspected the women from not putting a lot of effort in searching for masculine attire, but he abstained from speaking his suspicions out loud. The courtesan robes were surprisingly comfortable, so soft and light he could close his eyes and believe he was wearing mist and clouds.

He could almost believe the flowers when they declared him beautiful, since he barely could identify the reflexion in the mirror as his. Shen Qingqiu never had wanted to be beautiful – it was a good way to be forced into (not so willing, not so enjoyable) prostitution when one was poor and had nothing to offer but one’s body, and it also was a reminded of the accursed bloodline he was born into.

Yet safe within the brothel, surrounded by giggling women who had no interest in his body and only wanted to dress-up and pretend he was their newest little sister, he could almost believe it was alright for him to look soft and pretty and everything he hated to be in his day-to-day life.

It couldn’t be forever, the dreamer always woke up at the end, but until then, it was nice to bask in it.

Chapter Text

It started because of a misunderstanding.

In spite of Cang Qiong and more generally the whole cultivation world’s assumption, Shen Qingqiu didn’t patronize brothels because he wanted to slake a thirst for flesh – he was much more interested into learning what kind of secrets various magistrates and important personnages would spill on the pillow, because these pigs firmly believed a whore had no ears for their indiscretions to be heard and no mouth to repeat what she learnt. The Qing Jing Peak Lord has rolls upon rolls of carefully inscribed gossip at his disposition, to be used as blackmail or to gain an advantage over the rival sects or to learn of a potential mishap needing for a cultivator to intervene.

Such precious information needed to be suitably compensated, of course. Shen Qingqiu had no qualms bargaining with gold and silver taels, but he also teached music and reading and weiqi to any girl asking him – some men apparently enjoyed smart, refined women, but mainly the girls themselves wanted to feel more than a pair of breasts and a cunt to be used and abused until it couldn’t perform to the client’s satisfaction anymore.

Lihua had been one of his first and most driven students among the courtesans, and the Qing Jing Peak Lord couldn’t help but feel more than slightly proud when she boasted of the clients she managed to reduce to tears with her erhu playing.

The day of the misunderstanding, Shen Qingqiu was giving a guqin lesson to Yinghua – a mite too childish and prone to slack off but nonetheless diligent when it came to improving her abilities as a seducer of pigs – while Yuan’er was cared for by the head maid of the Pavilion, a hard-won privilege the middle-aged woman had treated as a god personally rewarding her piety. He had been dressed in a soft lemon yellow gown with wide sleeves and a pinkish scarf wound around his arms and draped over his back, his hair pulled into a braided bun maintained by tasseled hairpins and allowing for a sliver of pale skin to be exposed between his high collar and his hairline.

He had picked one of the reception rooms for being empty at the time, but when a flower decided it would be a good idea to entertain two potential clients in the same hall, Shen Qingqiu was far too engrossed in quietly berating Yinghua for not cutting her nails and demonstrating how to properly pluck two strings with the right hand to notice more than soft noises at his back.

« This little sister is very stupid » Yinghua prettily bemoaned as she lowered her eyelashes and pouted in false contrition. « Is she allowed to beg for a demonstration ? »

As Shen Qingqiu unfortunately was weak to women politely asking him for a favour, he played Encountering Sorrow for her – not the most joyful of pieces, but he always struggled with music when it wasn’t gloomy, something that likely said a lot about his own mindscape.

When he finished, Yinghua sniffled and her eyes were shining with a wetness that immediately filled Shen Qingqiu with guilt. He clumsily fished a handkerchief out of his sleeve and was patting her eyes dry when someone approached him from behind and cleared their throat.

« Begging forgiveness » a smooth, masculine voice said, and Shen Qingqiu immediately stiffened, « but this one’s master couldn’t help but hear such wonderful music. Would it be agreeable to this courtesan to join our party ? This one’s master would suitably compensate you for your time. »

Gods damn it . How could he escape from this room without making anyone suspicious ? Fortunately, Yinghua – good girl – immediately intervened in his behalf.

« This one has her doubts about your master’s ability to offer suitable reward. Such a treasure deserves nothing but the best, you understand. »

« My master is the court poet to the vassal state of Hua. He often travels within the Empire to seek inspiration, and has full approval of his court when he has need to pay for it. »

Yinghua’s grin was full of teeth.

« We shall consider your master’s request » she pleasantly declared. « For now, the lesson has ended. »

Shen Qingqiu didn’t wait for her verbal confirmation in order to wrap the guqin. Hiding his face behind his wide sleeve – maybe it wasn’t that cumbersome an attire – he swiftly exited the room with as much dignity and pride as he could, followed by Yinghua who promptly crumbled into a babbling mess once the foreign ears unable to hear them anymore.

« So sorry, Master Shen ! This one never meant to imply – but she couldn’t see another way ! »

« Yinghua did what was needed of her » Shen Qingqiu brushed her off. « This master is grateful. »

The girl wetly blew her nose in the Qing Jing Peak Lord’s handkerchief – well, if she liked it so much, she could keep it. It would spare him the clean-up.

« Well, this one is pretty sure it was a passing whim » she grumbled. « We know this kind – he will go to sleep and forget everything about your music. »

The court poet refused to forget. The morning after the incident, a servant went to Madam Tang with a cedarwood box in order to beg for the guqin-playing flower to grant his master the favour of a song. The box contained several feet of gold-embroidered black silk – silk produced by Fire Cloud Moths, a rare species of butterfly able to spit very inflammable acid when they felt threatened and produce cocoons spun of a material that would stay pleasantly warm no matter the weather.

The look in Madam Tang’s eyes became outright avaricious when Shen Qingqiu revealed how much worth the present had, then quickly turned mournful as she realized she would have to send it back – with the utmost politeness, as if she wasn’t suffering a thousand pains from refusing such a precious gift because she was cursed with morals and wouldn’t sell the time and efforts of someone she didn’t own.

The morning after the silk was refused, the servant went back to Madam Tang bearing a sandalwood box containing a bronze mirror with a turquoise handle. As light struck the polished front, the metal seemed to become translucent, allowing the patterns carved on the back to be revealed.

Shen Qingqiu found himself explaining that it wasn’t magic but an ancient craftmanship so rare it was almost lost, and the majority of these mirrors were family relics scattered among the most prestigious and old bloodlines. Madam Tang almost started to drool on the spot.

« It looks like the court poet won’t be easily turned away » a flower tried to whisper, her half-awed half-stunned voice nonetheless carrying loud enough for her sisters to hear.

Shen Qingqiu was mature enough to know when he was defeated by a more cunning and ruthless opponent. He also took pity on Madam Tang, so obviously torn between her greed and her obligation as a dutiful host it couldn’t be healthy for her peace of mind and body.

This evening, the court poet of the vassal state of Hua went to the Red Warm Pavilion and listened to a mysterious courtesan’s music. Before he could enter the room, he was explicitely warned the courtesan would be veiled and wouldn’t say a word to him, being there merely for playing the guqin.

It nonetheless was enough to set the poet’s imagination ablaze, as he reverently listened to the beauty – for it had to be a peerless beauty – demurely hiding their face behind a thick, misty white veil, the soft pinkish orange folds of their gown wrapping around them as peach blossoms, carefully plucking the guqin’s strings in order to play a wintery, lonely melody that would have melted the hardest stone through its sheer beauty.

And this is how the legend of the mysterious Veiled Beauty from the Red Warm Pavilion started, to the Madam’s gleeful dismay and Shen Qingqiu’s resigned disgust.

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan was vaguely aware he had died. He couldn’t explain the reason why he was so sure it happened, but he just knew it happened.

To be fair, rebirth was a pretty traumatizing experience so that wasn’t so unexpected for his mind and memories to feel a bit scrambled. And it likely was a difficult birth too, judging from all the medicines fed to him and the frequent warm tingling rushing through his lungs and stomach and the almost-constant kangaroo care.

Shen Yuan couldn’t help but feel cheated on the reincarnation front. Why would he choose to be reborn if he was sickly in his new life too ? He wanted to talk to the manager ! Your customer service is shit, forcing people to relieve crappy experiences instead of giving them something better ! Come on !

Every time he thought of it, his stupid baby body would get fussy – he started to whimper and hiccup and sniffle and of course his mother would go to piece from worrying and she would start to rock him and hum some weird lullabies in shamefully successful attempts to sooth him.

His mother was… pretty muscled, actually, and her voice surprisingly low, you would believe she was a man from listening to her. But she had long silky hair, soft pale skin on which it was disturbingly easy to nap, and she smelled good. Like… so good.

As a newborn, Shen Yuan’s eyesight was shot to hell (fuck, would he have to wear glasses in his second life ? Because he kind of worried about having a bad start on this front) but his sense of smell weirdly improved – but could he still describe this strange mix of scent with potent hints of taste and feeling as nothing but smell, or was it a fully-fledged sixth sense ? It softly whispered at him as he snuggled against his mother’s chest, you’re home, you’re safe, you’re loved , again and again with the reassuring regularity of raindrops falling on dry ground.

Snoozing in a warm embrace, Shen Yuan felt at once utterly weightless and so profoundly tethered that it would be impossible to dislodge him. Did his new mother feel the same way toward him ?

Drunk on this wonderfully comforting feeling of safety and caring, he barely noticed when he was bathed or his nappy changed. Thinking about it, it probably was a good thing – if someone had to clean his junk because he was unable to keep himself from pooping his pants, Shen Yuan would rather not be entirely aware of it or his ensuing breakdown would be the stuff of legends.

It wasn’t his mother tending to him in these humiliating moments : as the smells just wouldn’t stop changing, he concluded that he now had a truckload of nannies – either his new mom was a social butterfly, or she was filthy rich to the point she could engage several people alone to deal with her brat messing himself. Shen Yuan’s previous parents had used nannies whenever they wanted a vacation from parenting – he couldn’t blame them, er-ge had been a freaking brat that destroyed everything he touched and his precious meimei had been prone to fits of gratuitous screaming and tears and Shen Yuan himself had been far too often sickly for not making them depressed and tired from the strain.

Besides his mother and the flock of nannies, there was a scent hard to define – it wasn’t hostile, it wasn’t friendly, it might be slightly curious but mostly it was nonplussed. Like if the scent’s owner was internally screaming what the fuckity fuck on repeat, and Shen Yuan fully and entirely empathized with such confusion because he didn’t know anything either, people refused to talk to a baby except for cooing inanities at him.

Eurgh, he just wanted to barf when his nannies adopted sirupy tones in their voices and smells – not just figuratively, he actually felt about to puke, step down with the sugar, sisters ! This Shen Yuan enjoyed his sweets but even he had his limits !

For a while, he wondered if the confused-curious scent belonged to his father but he quickly shot the possibility down from the high-pitched, indeniably feminine voice that spoke in the flat deadpan indicating a truly severe sufferer of depression or unsounded depths of snark and despair in front of mankind’s abject dumbassery.

Shen Yuan decided the woman was liable to become his favorite auntie in his new life. Snark gremlin solidarity !

It still left him with the mystery of his father to solve. Shen Yuan was certain several months passed by since he had been born again, yet no masculine presence whatsoever had tried to butt in his life. Nothing but his mother and nannies and Snarky Auntie.

Shit, was Shen Yuan the product of a one-night-stand ? Was he an illegitimate kid ? He knew what kind of rap illegitimate kids inherited when their parents refused to marry after committing the oops ! Oh God, he really didn’t want to be illegitimate and adulterous , his life would be ruined before he could truly start to enjoy it !

Also, he genuinely couldn’t believe a lady as sweet as his new mother would be left in the cold by her partner. Who would be heartless enough to break such a loving heart ? Shen Yuan would rain hellfire on anyone thinking they could get away with such disgusting behaviour ! He didn’t give any shit about the offender potentially having contributed to his existence by donating half of his DNA ! Some crimes can be washed only with BLOOD !

Alright, if his meimei was here to hear his dramatic proclamations, she would take the piss out of him but come on, what was the point of life if you constantly kept a lid on your inner Kamina ? Sometimes a man just needed to indulge his inner drama queen !

Still, too much of a good thing would spoil the whole hog. Just look at the latest chapters of Proud Immortal Demon Way , in which Luo Binghe has degenerated into such a whiny, self-centered petty bitch that Shen Yuan just wanted to enter the web-novel and kill the poor guy already, letting him to pursue this travesty of life was nothing but a crime against mankind.

Since transmigration was impossible in spite of what the isekai genre would like for the readers to believe, Shen Yuan had to restrain himself to drop increasingly vitriolic essays on everything wrong with the worldbuilding and plots in the comment box. Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky being a shameless sell-out more focused on making money than true writing refused to care, and the horrendous papapa scenes and grievous plotholes had continued to pile on.

Hmm, did Shen Yuan give himself a heart attack from sheer rage and frustration as he was reading the freshly published chapter ? He couldn’t really discard the possibility…

Crap baskets, he couldn’t remember how the trash-fire ended. Had the harem finally done Luo Binghe in ? There certainly was hints in this direction but Airplane was far too much of a coward to sacrifice his cash cow and give the protagonist a problem he couldn’t solve with his almighty sky pillar. Your wives aren’t happy with their cloisetered life in which they constantly have to vie for their husband’s attention ? Just papapa them into submission ! It worked the first time !

Seriously, that was fucking disgusting and reduced women to one-sided plot devices. If you’re not interested in letting the protagonist interact with fully-fledged characters, Airplane bro, give him sex toys ! You will obtain the same results with a hundred less percent objectification !

… And now, he would never know how it actually ended. For fuck’s sake, this novel well and truly was the bane of his existence.

Chapter Text

As he grew up a bit, Shen Yuan came to realize two important facts of his new life.

First, he had been reborn in a xianxia setting – in which everyone wore their hair long and dressed in robes, believed in the utter lack of value for human life unless you were powerful or wealthy enough to make it matter, and had no idea of what Internet was. Oh the travesty !

Second, this setting also was an A/B/O one.

A godsforsaken omegaverse .

Of course, they wouldn’t use the Greek letters in Ancient China, Greece or the local equivalent had made no contact whatsoever with the Empire at this point in time, so they instead called the three dispositions qianyuan , zhongyong and kunze . Zhongyong seemed to be the most common, with all of Shen Yuan’s nannies being such and the clients they entertained too.

Qianyuan was spoken in hushed tones, as something calamitous it was better to run outside the town before it could maim someone or destroy property in a fit of anger, barely worth the food it would eat in exchange of the protection and labour it could bring to the household.

Sometimes, qianyuan and demon sounded like one and the same in the gossip about ravaged villages and serial murders the clients brought from the world beyond the city.

It left the third disposition, kunze . Shen Yuan wouldn’t have known anything about this one without his mother – who happened to be a man.

His mother. Was a man. With a freaking vagina  !

And he transmitted his fucking affliction to Shen Yuan !

He… was going to need so much therapy to fucking deal with this, but it was Ancient China in which doctors would force disgusting tea on their patients to correct energy imbalances, so good luck with obtaining the help he sorely necessitated.

In the meantime, he was going to do what he was a world-class expert in practising : pretend that everything is absolutely fantastic under pain of making his parent worry.

The unfortunate mpregged son of a bitch that served as his mother genuinely has enough on his plate already, having a vagina and living in a brothel as he did.

Shen Yuan could be considered naive, but he wasn’t stupid : the sheer amount of male clients passing through their so-called inn in order to kiss and flirt with his nannies, sometimes climbing up in their bedroom, all the pretty dresses and the heavy make-up and the dangling jewellery his nannies casually wore, and most damning of all, the noises and stink occasionally drifting outside the bedrooms when a nanny was entertaining a customer – it painted a very explicit picture.

So his mother lived in a brothel, there wasn’t a father in sight for him – he literally was a son of a whore.

Was he expected to join the family business when he would be old enough for papapa to fall under the acceptable category rather than the pedophiliac one ? Because he would like to give his answer right now : HELL NO ! SORRY MOM BUT THIS SHEN YUAN WILL HAVE TO DISAPPOINT YOU ON THE EVENTUALITY OF SUCCEEDING YOU AS A SEXUAL TEMPTRESS !

To be honest, Shen Yuan had never seen his mother entertaining someone (and he prayed every deity that might possibly listen poor little him) beyond playing music, and it always happened in open rooms not recommended at all for papapa. Still, he was the living proof that his mother could and did papapa someone – the Madam likely had put him on parental leave, and when he would feel sufficiently rested, he would proceed to give Shen Yuan baby siblings aplenty !

Such a prospect filled his reborn soul with extremely mixed feelings : having siblings to alternatively bully and dote on was a very enjoyable experience as proven by his previous life, but the process in which he would obtain the position of elder brother in this world – it was enough for him to have nightmares. Very quiet ones, as screaming would bring attention upon him or worse, would alert clients to his presence within the brothel’s walls. The men looked rather decent as a whole, but it was preferable for him to stay a secret and his mother thought the same.

At least, Shen Yuan believed his mother wanted to keep him a secret, as he never was brought outside their tiny bedroom unless it was for rather short walks in the backside garden, something the nannies heavily insisted for his mother to regularly practise because they didn’t think it was healthy to constantly stay cooped inside.

They tended to fuss a lot – not only over Shen Yuan, but his mother too. You would believe they were two pretty china dolls to dress with colourful clothes and carefully handle whenever they were taken outside their silk-lined box, a beautiful toy made to be admired rather than played with.

Was it because of his mother’s personality ? He seemed a bit cold in his interactions, but it appeared more as shyness and slight awkwardness than true disdain. Maybe the nannies just wanted to take care of an introverted person ?

After seeing his mother covering himself with a perfectly opaque veil before going to play the guqin for yet another client – these men his mother entertained tended to wear rich clothes with more or less tasteful jewellery, so likely were powerful figures that didn’t enjoy people saying no to them – Shen Yuan firmly concluded that yes, it was a matter of shyness. Also probably a matter of shame, if Shen Yuan himself had been a courtesan whose clients wanted a personal concert, his face wouldn’t have been thick enough to let him play the whole piece without having a breakdown and completely making a fool of himself.

His poor mother, hiding his distress behind a veil. And the clients apparently believed it was a mere gimmick to enhance his appeal ! Get over yourselves, you pigs ! Just because you’re ready to throw money at a courtesan, it doesn’t mean said courtesan’s life wholly revolves around pleasing you !

Shen Yuan wanted to scream all this on the roofs. As things were, he merely seethed as his current nanny – generally one of the maids but it could also be a courtesan having a free day – tried to amuse him with plush toys and weird faces. To his utter disgust, it worked as a charm – his stupid baby brain really enjoyed soft things waved right under his nose.

His mother never waved plushies under his nose, and never made silly faces either. As Shen Yuan’s eyesight steadily improved (thank fuck for this), he had realized that his mother merely had the kind of face not allowing for a lot in the way of expressing emotions. That and it also was the kind of face Snow White would have been granted at birth – a smooth and flawlessly pale skin, soft midnight-ink hair, full naturally-red lips, but on a man.

His mother decided singing was the way to go, and okay, he really had a nice voice. A really, really nice voice that Shen Yuan thought perfect for lullabies, even if the lullabies wouldn’t exactly be what you would call cheerful.

It always was slightly gloomy melodies, the kind of songs associated with overcast grey skies and exhausted rainfall. Even if some of them had lyrics encouraging the blood to burn and the fighting spirit to rise, his mother would find a way to make them sound bittersweet, as if the fight had been lost in advance and going through the battle a mere formality before the inevitable defeat.

I am tiny in the vast galaxies, listening to the waves by the sea…

There was a song he hummed more than the others, and Shen Yuan believed it was the one his mother favoured – even if his gaze was distant as his mouth formed the lyrics.

The world allows me to journey the lands as I want…

It wasn’t the kind of melody his mother would usually play on his guqin, and Shen Yuan wondered where he heard it, and why he liked it so much.

But I want to live a peaceful life with you, and look at everyone from the top of the world

Maybe he remembered something good because of the song.

Chapter Text

When it came to fanfiction tropes, Shang Qinghua had mixed feelings on the matter – and transmigrating within one of them certainly didn’t help him to be less conflicted !

See, omegaverse actually had potential. Like, when people could literally sniff your feelings out, was it even possible to lie and deceive since it would be obvious you weren’t saying what you actually thought ? When people tended to live in prides or packs or tribes or any other kind of clan, how would it impact society as an institution ? What about transgender people, would a man wanting to become a woman feel less dysphoric if he already has been born with feminine anatomy, or would he crave a full change ? How to define homosexuality when the male-female gender barrier was combined with the alpha-beta-omega trifecta ?

So many questions begging for an answer, so many doors waiting to be opened, but readers only cared about knots and primal dominance and wild papapa sessions with a lot of crying and snarling and begging. It was a mite depressing, that.

Alright, coming from Shang Qinghua in his very fragile glass house, such arguments sounded like petrified drops of hypocrisy waiting to fall back to Earth without a care for buildings in their way. But ! This starving author needed the money, or he would have been too hungry to write, and his shameful readers wouldn’t have enjoyed the fruits of his labour ! Surely it granted him some measure of forgiveness ?

Well, if one asked his black powder fan Peerless Cucumber who just wouldn’t stop spamming the comment threads with gigantic essays floridly explaining how much Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky deserved to lose his hands for the utter bullcrap he was putting online, it wasn’t the case. Ah, this Qinghua really would like for his favorite thorn in the flesh – okay it might be slightly masochistic but he was missing this bastard who had faithfully read every single chapter of his, kinda flattering in a twisted and pathetic way – to live in an omegaverse, surely their head would implode from shock !

Shang Qinghua would admit he had kinda freaked out, at first. Fortunately, this body had the good taste to be zhongyong – one in two people was zhongyong, it was the normal, boring disposition and Shang Qinghua liked to be boring. Boring was left alone, interesting would see you constantly harassed for one thing or another, be it interesting in a negative way or a positive one.

The An Ding Peak Lord wondered if his shixiong from the Qing Jing Peak believed the same, for dousing himself in so much perfume he made everyone in Cang Qiong uneasy around him.

Yes, he was aware of Shen Qingqiu hiding his disposition. He had written the dude, Shen Qingqiu was nothing but masks upon masks, he would lie about anything as befitted a scum villain so why wouldn’t he lie about this pesky little detail ? Still, Shang Qinghua refused to pry further because he enjoyed living in reasonable comfort and having all his limbs accounted for and attached to his person, and annoying Shen Qingqiu would utterly destroy this.

Shang Qinghua was a sniveling coward, but he wasn’t a dumbass. None could wear on Shen Qingqiu’s nerves and live to tell the tale – unless one was Liu Qingge who was stupidly overpowered or Yue Qingyuan and Shang Qinghua wouldn’t touch this disaster of a relationship with a ten-foot-long pole, thank you very much.

So he had to confess, it was very weird for Chen Qingxu to suddenly grow protective towards the Qing Jing Peak Lord. Weird and a bit worrying.

Alright, so maybe he was a tiny bit fond of Chen Qingxu, since she was a more or less faithful expy of his high school science teacher. Miss Chu had been a bit of a mess, a bit too aloof and unconcerned about her students, and most of all she didn’t give any hint of a shit about what people thought of her. For then-teenaged Qinghua, such behaviour was made even more remarkable by the fact that he was – and it still was a problem in his new life – unable to do the same.

Maybe he had been a little in love with her confidence, and that ultimately was the reason why he couldn’t bring himself to bring Chen Qingxu back after the Cang Qiong Mountain Destruction arc, no matter how much some readers complained about dropped plotlines and wouldn’t it be awesome to see the surviving Peak Lord trying to avenge her fallen disciples and martial siblings ? Yes, it would have been, and yes she totally could do it, but Chen Qingxu – Miss Chu deserved to escape the shitfest while she still could. It was the kind of person she was, too – not involving herself unless she truly believed it was important.

So the Ling Shu Peak Lord going against her usual aloofness and suddenly caring about Shen Qingqiu – something huge was happening. Something that could potentially upend the social dynamics between the current Peak Lords.

Heck, it already was happening ; Liu Qingge had been weirdly subdued, likely the shock of being opposed by the rather short and physically unimpressive Alchemist when she decided to throw caution at the winds, Yue Qingyuan was unusually short-tempered (for him, it meant forgetting to show utmost politeness and not looking serene when listening to your problems) because Shen Qingqiu wasn’t here to be pissed off for two, Shi Qingxuan worried because he had been to the engineering Peak several times already to try and speak to Chen Qingxu only to fail on every attempt, and Mu Qingfang had the exhausted and wild-eyed look of someone aware that a bomb is busy ticking somewhere but not in the know regarding its location or how long before the explosion.

And in the middle of this mess, poor little Qinghua desperately tried to blend in the walls because he really didn’t want to be dragged in such a wreck of a situation. When did Cang Qiong Mountain become the setting for a soap opera, exactly ? Because it reeked of cringe, the kind written by a frustrated nerd so utterly deprived of true human interaction that said nerd cannot make their point known without a huge sledgehammer with the word NARM in big yellow letters on the side. No, Shang Qinghua wasn’t speaking from experience, why would you even ask ?

Shit, he was reduced to pray for Shen Qingqiu’s safe return – and wow, it was such a surrealist situation because HE was responsible for creating this crazy world, was he actually praying himself or did some kind of overdeity exist to ensure a tidy power repartition ? The System’s presence rather pointed towards the latter…

Speaking of the System, this shitty piece of software just wouldn’t give him a piece of explanation for the current disaster in progress. It actually glitched a bit, so weird. Was the mission for newt culling so much of a deviation to the plot ? And could this world still follow the plot in spite of being an omegaverse ?

It likely would, because the main characters still were present, with the same background but slightly twigged in order to fully adapt the unique setting, and wasn’t that a bitch since Shang Qinghua was fated to be strangled to death by Mobei-jun, ah !

No, getting to see that Mobei-jun was exactly as beautiful as this author imagined him to be wasn’t worth it !

Chapter Text

Liu Qingge was a straightforward man.

Many people – and he had the displeasure to have his martial siblings among them – believed he was hopelessly stupid, because of this and his disposition. But the Bai Zhan War God was far from dumb, or he would never have ascended as a Peak Lord – his shizun would have slaughtered him otherwise, she took idiocy as a personal offense targeted against her.

He was straightforward. When he hated someone, he wouldn’t behave as if everything was fine between them. When he considered a course of action distasteful, he would express it. When he stumbled on a wrong, he would right it. Such was the truth of him.

So when he finally recovered from the shock of Chen Qingxu reacting to him as if he was a threat to annihilate, he went on the Ling Shu Peak and asked for a talk with the Mistress Alchemist.

Liu Qingge had no great love for Chen Qingxu – the woman was far too busy tinkering with various substances and engines to bond with the other Immortals from the Qing generation, far too passionate about matters he couldn’t even start to understand for him to connect with her. She nonetheless was his martial sister, and if she didn’t feel she could trust him to have her back then he needed to tell her it wasn’t the truth.

Shi Qingxuan had attempted to turn him away from his chosen course (she wouldn’t even leave her workstation when I asked, and she actually likes me, why would you ever think you have a chance, the gender-confused Peak Lord bluntly asked and they raised a good point, but Liu Qingge was cursed with stubborness and called it a blessing) and the disciples in stained aprons on the Ling Shu Peak had attempted to turn him away from his chosen course (you can’t disturb Shizun when she’s buried in her lab or she will gut you, Liu-shibo, you might be the War God but it won’t protect you, a boy had yelled at him and his comrades immediately supported his word) and he still went to knock on the Mistress Alchemist’s door.

He merely knocked, because alchemical experiments always were at risk of explosion or something, with more or less lethal results. It was very energetic knocking.

« Chen Qingxu ! » he roared. « We will speak together ! »

He was left to wait a full day and night cycle until the door opened on Chen Qingxu, her bandaged arm stinking of chemical burns, her braid matted with sweat and the eyebags under her brown irises so prominent that it looked like fresh bruises.

She scowled at Liu Qingge, scrunching her nose the way she would in front of a heap of crap.

« This one hoped she was suffering auditory hallucinations » she mildly said. « Why would the esteemed War God chase a lowly Alchemist such as myself in her home, I truly wonder. »

Liu Qingge frowned. A stench of burnt paper and rancid ink wafted from his shijie’s uncovered skin – he had no familiarity with her moods, but even his shallow understanding of Chen Qingxu pointed to her being annoyed.

« I have come to talk » he repeated.

The Alchemist sniffed, crossing her arms on her chest.

« Well, since the War God won’t leave my doorstep until this one is forced to listen, I shall bow to his demand. Then you will scamp away. »

Around the two Peak Lords, several disciples openly watched the scene, their gazes attentive and inquisitive. Any Bai Zhan disciple would have been better raised than that, and Liu Qingge would have growled at them, but he wasn’t on Bai Zhan and Chen Qingxu likely would consider it an affront if he scolded her students in her stead.

« This one is waiting , Liu Qingge. »

Her eyes were narrowed, and the martial cultivator decided to talk.

« Chen Qingxu. You are angry at me. »

She arched one eyebrow, something he considered an invitation to explain further. He swallowed.

« I… made you angry at the last Peak Lords’ meeting. It wasn’t my intention. I wished to apologize. »

« This one has heard your apology » the Alchemist said, without any hint of accepting said apology. « Is that all ? »

Her scent was just as awful as it was when she stepped outside, and Liu Qingge couldn’t help but feel distressed by her persistent hostility.

« Why are you so angry ? » he ultimately blurted, and was rewarded by the Alchemist pursuing her thin lips.

« Why do you want to know ? I would almost believe that you wish to establish a bond with me. »

His sword-hand twitched as his lavender smell thickened, and Chen Qingxu suddenly looked disgusted.

« What the fuck is wrong with you ? » she asked. « Liu Qingge could be the last possible bondmate for this one to live, and she still would refuse. »

The War God was used to rejection – the first and most devastating one having occurred when his disposition had been unveiled right before puberty – yet it burned to hear.

« Why not ? We are martial siblings. »

The Alchemist rolled her eyes.

« And I am not interested in bonding, I never was and I never will be. And don’t go and make a scene over it, this one has rejected the remainder of the Qing generation. You are nothing special. »

You are qianyuan. You could ascend to the Heavens and you still would be worthless to the Liu clan.

The merciless voice of the Liu Head ( not his father, this man had no wish to be father to a wretched qianyuan, not even a nine-year-old Qingge and later a barely younger Mingyan, he threw them in the streets and never searched for them afterward ) pounded within the martial cultivator’s ears, and he lost his temper.

« And what about Shen Qingqiu ? »

Chen Qingxu blinked, a cat startled by a torch.

« What are you talking about ? »

« You are bonded to him » Liu Qingge snarled, red sparks dancing in his vision’s edges. « You wouldn’t defend him otherwise – did he fuck you to achieve that ? »

Shen Qingqiu never made a mystery of his brothel frequentation, and he had shown some interest in visiting Xian Shu Peak (Qi Qingqi immediately put preventive measures against him in place when she heard of this). When he ventured outside the Cang Qiong mountain range, he just wouldn’t stop interacting in a shameless manner with females, and it was a matter of time until some laundress or shopkeeper claimed he put a bastard in her belly.

With such unrestrained lust, would it be a surprise if Shen Qingqiu inflicted his appetite for flesh on a shimei of his ?

Chen Qingxu moved , and Liu Qingge quickly jumped on the side to avoid losing his eye. The Alchemist’s ruined fingernails glinted dully in the daylight, akin to talons.

« How dare you » she hissed, her voice dripping with venomous contempt, « how dare you imply I need for a man to fuck me – to show me my place – that I am defective if I refuse to open my legs ! That I won’t be loved unless I whore myself  ! How dare you , Liu Qingge ! And you call Shen-shixiong a disgusting pervert ? Go look in your fucking mirror if you want to find one ! »

Her voice raised, verging on a shout, while her face slowly reddened and her chest heaved as she panted. The disciples skittered away with distressed yelps, reeking of fear.

Liu Qingge wanted to flinch. He wanted to bare his naked throat to her – a submissive gesture, giving her the opportunity to strangle or tear apart as she pleased.

He didn’t.

« Then why are you so protective of him, now ? »

Under his anger, he genuinely wanted to know – wanted to learn how the unpleasant Qing Jing Peak Lord could have won the aloof and borderline misanthropic Ling Shu Peak Lord to his side. How did he possibly manage such a feat, if he didn’t use seduction ?

Why would you ever choose to look at him, who spits on kindness, when you won’t even glance at me when I want to make amends ?

The Alchemist bared her teeth at him.

« This is between this one and Shen-shixiong. Don’t you beg for information, after so rudely throwing aspersions on me. Now, get out of my peak – or I shall pull your intestines out of your mouth, and force you to eat all the shit within. »

Liu Qingge was a warrior and a hunter, both asking of him to be aware of his limits. As the Bai Zhan War God, his fighting abilities were superior to what common mortals would be able to muster, but he was vaguely aware that some foes, he couldn’t defy and expect to emerge alive and unmaimed.

He left the Ling Shu Peak with nausea swirling in his chest. His apology had been rejected, and he still didn’t know why Chen Qingxu was angry at him – in Shen Qingqiu’s behalf, apparently.

How was he supposed to make it right ?

Chapter Text

Chen Qingxu was in such a mood that when she barged in the Red Warm Pavilion’s private courtyard (in which Shen Qingqiu was dozing off in a haitang tree’s shade, cradling his Yuan’er against his chest and a tidy selection of sweets arrayed on the small table besides him), you could almost see a thundercloud ominously rumbling above her head.

« Guess what dog came barking right before my door because someone apparently believes you had to fuck me after the newt venture ? » she snapped, her eyes flashing.

Shen Qingqiu snorted. He couldn’t raise a fan to hide his face behind, his hands encumbered with a slumbering baby, so let his disdainful expression to be known.

« Truly, this brute is as previsible as he’s tedious to endure » he commented. « What did this shimei of mine expected, when she started associating with this one ? Of course people would depict me as the lowliest kind of scum. »

The Qing Jing Peak Lord wasn’t disappointed by the Bai Zhan War God’s behaviour. Rage and disappointment had been eroded away at every clash between the two cultivators, until there was left nothing but exhaustion in their place.

If I came to disappear, would Liu Qingge finally grant me peace ?

Chen Qingxu looked like she wanted to set him in fire with her eyes alone. The Alchemist huffed, then dropped herself in a graceless sprawl on the grass besides him, eying the delicate plates filled with pastries on the table. Her smell reeked of a vague distaste rather than hunger.

« Do you even bother following the diet I painstakingly put together for your benefit ? This lowly Alchemist just wishes to know if she’s wanted at all » she said. « Or her advice, for this matter. »

« This wretched one wouldn’t dare to spit on his shimei’s dedication to his well-being » Shen Qingqiu demurred, bowing his head – something he wouldn’t do even for Zhangmen-shixiong, but the Ling Shu Peak Lord wasn’t Zhangmen-shixiong.

( she came back when she didn’t have to, after all )

Bundled in his soft scarf, Yuan’er stirred and whimpered, blinking his hazy, dark eyes open, and the two grown-ups’ focus immediately was redirected towards him – how strange, for such a tiny creature to hold such a power of attraction within him.

As usual when she was in the same room than Shen Qingqiu’s offspring, the Mistress Alchemist’s odor started to show hints of bewildered terror. More bewilderement than terror, nowadays, but the fact still was that the zhongyong woman likely would prefer suffer through a trial and lose her licence to practise Alchemy (as if it would ever stop her from experimenting, the former street rat started to know her as a fellow stubborn soul if more apathetic than spiteful) than panicking about potentially give the baby a cause to cry.

Her face seemed stuck between scowling or despairing, and it had to be quite uncomfortable because she shook her sleeve, and something fell from it.

« There » she said as she picked the package on the ground and opened it. « This one didn’t came merely for complaining, I also had a delivery for your brat. »

It was a pair of slippers, small enough for a toddler barely able to walk on their own. On the toe cap of each shoe had been embroidered – actually, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t for the life of him guess what kind of monster it was supposed to be. It was afflicted with big yellow eyes, big brown eyebrows, big teeth and a thick mustache.

« Surely this gift could have waited for my child to be older » Shen Qingqiu pointed, as he diplomatically abstained from outright deriding the shoes as useless to an infant that wasn’t crawling yet.

Chen Qingxu pouted a bit, as she turned a slipper over to examine the sole.

« Perhaps, but I wanted to know if I could do it. Oh, well, next time I will try to embroider ducks instead of tigers. »

« … These are tigers. »

No matter the angle he was using, Shen Qingqiu wasn’t seeing tigers on these toe caps. Wait, were these furry eyebrows intended to be ears ?

« Ah-hu » the Alchemist sighed. « Tigers would frighten even plagues and demons, wouldn’t they ? And if it let your brat grow up healthily, vigorous as a tiger… well, he needs all the help he can get, born too early as he was. »

Shen Qingqiu blinked, trying to correct the sudden blurriness in his vision.

Such a stupid present. Not even a true protective charm, merely folk superstition – something told by toothless grannies on a street corner.

( yet this is a gift, and in spite of being worth nothing compared to the luxuries a Peak Lord deserves, it was handcrafted for Shen Jiu’s child because she believed Yuan’er would need it, she made the slippers herself and she came to deliver them )

( Shen Jiu is aware since she helped for the birth of a vague possibility, Yuan’er growing up to call this woman with her freckled face and clumsy gait his Auntie but now he can see this future softly unfurling its wings )

Chen Qingxu peered at him, her eyebrow arched.

« You are thinking they’re butt-ugly, don’t you. »

The Qing Jing Peak Lord refused to answer. Any attempt to deny the truth would be foolish, and the Alchemist seemed unfazed anyway.

« And this is why this one shall never become a bride. That and her refusal to understand how mankind can believe fucking is dignified and pleasurable, but can Shen-shixiong imagine me a needle in hand, trying to sew my wedding robes ? »

« Or Chen-shimei could ask Fan-shimei for her generous contribution » Shen Qingqiu reminded him. « Why, she loves her art so much, she wouldn’t treat it as a chore. »

The Qing Jing Peak Lord’s relationship with Fan Qingxing, the Peak Lord in charge of the Lei Zu Peak that produced textiles, was fraught with tension. The woman rightfully was proud of her talent for spinning and weaving, and she refused to forgive Shen Qingqiu for surpassing her when it came to embroidery.

Shen Qingqiu would never apologize for his achievements ( he has shed blood and sweat and tears to remake himself in a respectable person, one of many talents, and he’s going to fucking revel in it ), but he could understand the sting of injured pride. Besides her grudge, Fan Qingxing was nothing but a professional, and mainly left him and his Peak alone.

Chen Qingxu was rolling her eyes, the ink in her smell spoiled by acidity. Annoyance ? It wasn’t exactly that…

« Fan-shimei will never grant this lowly one a single moment of peace again, if I retained her help for anything of a familial nature » the Alchemist disdainfully sniffed, and the word familial was spat from between her teeth as if it was a diseased roach trying to crap in her mouth. « She has this unfortunate flaw, you see, this belief that ties are supposed to be celebrated… But she dedicated her life to thread, of course she will be passionate about binding things and people together. »

The Alchemist suddenly frowned.

« Did Shen-shixiong ever wondered if we Peak Lords are remade in our Peak’s image, or if we remake our Peak in our image ? »

« What a silly question » Shen Qingqiu retorted, « the answer can be nothing but the former. Becoming a Peak Lord means to uphold the Peak’s image. »

Otherwise, Qiong Ding Peak and Qing Jing Peak would have been turned in a den of lowlifes, urchins and criminals.

The Alchemist closed her eyes, exhaustion in every line of her body.

« I need more fish to deal with this whole day. »

Usually, one would suggest alcohol, but when one was friend with Shi Qingxuan (and how did the unrepentant drinker manage to consume less wine than the output of his Peak, it beggared belief), one quickly learned to enjoy being sober.

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t share with her, and it always was sad to drink alone, anyway.

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan strongly suspected his auntie – she of the snark gremlin persuasion – to be a vagrant. Alright, it was lazy and mean from judging someone on their appearances, but he genuinely had good reasons for thinking so !

Rain or shine, the shortish woman with her freckled face would wear a stained apron over ragged robes, and she stunk so horrendously that Shen Yuan’s new mother scrunched his nose and often barked at her to take a bath – only for Auntie to react with bafflement and mild hostility every time. She occasionally accepted, but she looked so stiff and awkward in clean clothes that she likely wasn’t given the opportunity to enjoy this simple luxury in her everyday life.

Shen Yuan pitied her, he truly did, but he also firmly approved his mother’s refusal to let his auntie handle him so long as she refused to clean herself before the cuddles. He already was sickly, he wouldn’t add lice or rashes on his plate, thank you very much !

Still, you would believe he was the germ-filled handkerchief, judging from the woman’s panicked smell as she carefully cradled him in her arms while Shen Yuan’s mother carefully watched the scene. Her lips were pinched so thin she seemed to have a white brushstroke instead of a mouth.

« Does this wretched Alchemist need to remind that she is, in fact, not a physician ? » his auntie hissed, and Shen Yuan worried about her fainting – if she fell, he would fall with her and ouch for his poor little baby body.

A-niang’s eyes glinted with something approaching schadenfreude – the feeling of joy from seeing the hardship of others – as his face’s lower part was hidden behind a round fan painted with plump brownish sparrows.

« This one could swear the opposite, after all the care Mistress Chen has poured in his well-being and his child’s » he answered with the serenity of a falcon about to bombdive a mouse.

« You raging asshole  » the woman spat without heat, aware that she was defeated, « why the heck did the midwife cut your umbilical cord rather than your throat ? »

« You suppose my mother had a midwife to help her. From my memories of her, she probably whelped me in a heap of trash » a-Niang bluntly revealed.

« That’s a good argument » Auntie shrugged while Shen Yuan twitched – fucking hell, mama, don’t you go and drop such claims without warning ! So heavy !

Heavy and yet unsurprising. If Shen Yuan’s mother was reduced to sell his body as a prostitute – the brothel was very nice, but it nonetheless was an establishment of ill repute – his origins had to be quite unfortunate. It was hard to escape poverty, as his grandpa in his previous life just wouldn’t stop repeating whenever dad took Shen Yuan and his siblings to visit the grandparents.

As he contemplated the trashy roots of his former and current family, his auntie delicately caught his tiny fist in her much larger hand and a strange warmth bloomed inside his wrist, spreading within his whole body. It quite tingled in his lungs and stomach.

It often happened when his mother was holding him, but that wasn’t exactly the same, less like a hearth in winter and more like rich soil warmed all day long by sunlight.

Shen Yuan whimpered and flailed when the warmth dissipated. His auntie tutted as she rearranged the scarf swaddling him, stopping him from kicking it open.

« Why are you such a fussy little thing ? How spoiled you will grow up to be. »

« My child is not spoiled » a-Niang snapped, and Shen Yuan almost coughed blood in front of such blatant lying.

Dude, who in this room insisted to constantly carry his baby in his arms and glared at the nannies when they joked about wanting to hug said kid ? Who never raised his voice when said nannies gifted more and more toys and clothes to said baby ? Maybe a-Niang wasn’t openly spoiling Shen Yuan but he certainly was a shameless enabler !

His auntie showed no sign of buying into such a fable either.

« Yes, he is » she bluntly decreed as she stroked Shen Yuan’s chubby cheek – he couldn’t wait to grow up and lose all this fat, « even this Xiao Mao can see it and she is completely useless when it comes to raise children. »

« Little Cat ? » his mother repeated, his brow furrowed.

The woman stilled, then she sagged and rolled her eyes in the manner of people misstepping and understanding too late they will never live it down.

« Xiao Mao, that was how my worthless father’s secretary used to call me » she sighed. « Because I was always underfoot, and napping in the sun, and I just wouldn’t do what other people wanted no matter how much they yelled at me. »

Shen Yuan briefly pictured his auntie as a white, fluffy Persian cat with a perpetually grumpy expression on her flattened face. It was startingly appropriate, somehow, he mused as he grabbed the woman’s messy braid and tugged.

A-niang snorted.

« How quaint. At the least, you weren’t a Little Nine. »

« Were your older siblings that beastly towards the runt of the litter ? » Auntie Mao asked as she deftly separated Shen Yuan’s clingy little fingers from her braid.

« It rather was the slavers not liking a brat scrawny enough to be unable to work hard and far too mouthy for their peace of mind » a-Niang admitted.

Auntie Mao blinked. Shen Yuan strongly empathized with her – how were you supposed to fire a retort back to that  ?

« This one likely should have pity on the slavers » she ultimately decided to say, « if a-Jiu had nothing but a hundredth of the fury and wit he displays now. Did you make their ears bleed ? »

The kunze’s nostrils flared, and his fruity smell took some weird hints of an emotion not annoyance and not amusement, it was precariously perched on the line between and wow, Shen Yuan would never get used to the synesthesia coming with life in an omegaverse.

« Xiao Mao hasn’t been given my permission for being so familiar with me » he said, his tone sweetly dripping with poison.

« A-Jiu believes he can call on me as his physician rain or shine and force me to attend to him when he’s covered with crap » Auntie Mao serenely answered. « This wretched one shall call a-Jiu as she pleases. »

« I will buy you a whole ginger soy fish if you ever forget you invented this nickname » a-Niang hissed.

The zhongyong woman stilled.

« … That’s quite the tempting offer » she slowly confessed, a hint of drool glinting in the corner of her mouth. « But that is only once. »

« A ginger soy fish every month » a-Niang insisted.

«  Someone is going to ruin himself, paying for this. »

« Do you really believe I will use my money for it ? »

Alright, Auntie Mao officially was family. You couldn’t be that much of a shit with someone you didn’t like – Shen Yuan had genuinely cared for his meimei, and she repaid him by driving him bonkers whenever she could get away with it.

You weren’t supposed to love your siblings because they were nice to you, after all ; you were supposed to love them in spite of your common sense, your very being screaming that it was an awfully bad idea. Shen Yuan had first hand experience from his previous life, with his brothers and sister loving his sickly ass that would die on them before he could reach twenty-five years.

He could tell Auntie Mao and a-Niang fulfilled the criteria too.

Chapter Text

When Yuan’er reached the six months mark, seemingly half the country had heard of the legendary Veiled Beauty residing in the Red Warm Pavilion. Of course, you had to pay a horrendously expensive price to be allowed an evening with said beauty, which limited attendance, but not a week would pass without three or five Imperial officials, merchants or noblemen standing at the brothel’s door and humbly presenting their gifts.

None of these visitors had been allowed to spend a night with the Veiled Beauty, in spite of many offering everything they owned and sometimes even what they didn’t for it, or sending proposals. The Veiled Beauty would entertain guests through music and weiqi, and it stopped there.

It drove people mad with curiosity – just imagine, a courtesan retaining her purity no matter the riches and honors laid to her feet ? Was it even possible for such a peerless jade to exist ? Why would she ever act in such a virtuous manner when she was surrounded by carnal depravity ?

Whimsy was set ablaze, encouraged by the court poet of Hua’s awed retelling of the beauty’s first recorded apparition, and tongues wagged. The Veiled Beauty was an Imperial Princess whose mother had been exiled from the Emperor’s side for such or such offense, waiting for her bloodline to admit how wrong they had been and repent ; the Veiled Beauty was an humble peasant, born so beautiful she needed to wear a veil and stay chaste or men would irrevocably lose their wits from beholding her face and body ; the Veiled Beauty was a saintess dedicating her life to rescue the souls of prostitutes through her righteous behaviour and teaching men how to love without lusting after flesh.

Shen Qingqiu just wanted to spit blood in sheer disgust every time Madam Tang’s flowers gleefully told him the latest tale spun by the pigs panting under the Red Warm Pavilion’s windows. Chen Qingxu balanced between sheer confusion and getting drunk on plum wine to erase the stories from her mind – she mainly opted for confusion, having confessed she would make Shi Qingxuan suspicious if she asked too much of his liquors and beers.

The kunze also suspected her from misplaced solidarity, as he couldn’t drink since he was breastfeeding his little one. But Shen Qingqiu as a rule misliked alcohol – wine was very effective to force men’s lustful instincts to the surface.

(Qiu Jianluo always had drank a cup too much whenever he was praising Xiao Jiu’s lips or hips)

The Qing Jing Peak Lord couldn’t be more grateful for the thick veil he donned when he was acting as one of Madam Tang’s higher-priced flowers – he strongly suspected he was the highest-priced courtesan to work in the Red Warm Pavilion and he wasn’t even a proper worker here, what a fucking joke – it conveniently dissimulated his sneer as he made use of his hard-won talents to entertain all these pigs.

Because when one truly thought about it, there was no true difference between men and swine – all of them stinking so hard it would make anyone gag, only interested in filling their bellies and finding a cunt to breed. It was mainly apparent among the qianyuan, but the zhongyong were just as bad in spite of their claims to the contrary.

( he won’t think about Qi-ge and how he never asked, never tried to look at Xiao Jiu this way, and sometimes he wonders if he should be grateful for such uncommon gentleness or despair because Qi-ge just stopped to care about him )

Shen Qingqiu wasn’t stupid : he perfectly knew how much the mystery surrounding the veiled courtesan he claimed to be excited his self-proclaimed suitors. Without a face or even a name to go with his prowess with the guqin and board games, these pigs freely projected their desires and fantasies of a perfect mate on him. They lusted after a reflection lacking in substance, the moon in the water instead of the moon itself.

How pitiful. How disgusting. How pathetic.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord actually wondered why the working girls smiled at these revolting pigs and abstained from kicking their stupid faces or slitting their throat. He wondered how they could even stand to let these idiots paw at their clothes, let alone fuck them.

But of course, the answer was right there : it was a matter of gold. Gold men often wasted on chasing after illusions. Truly, the most respectable pig was the one who didn’t bother with asking some badly acted comedy or tried to wrap some formality around the act – it was the one who wanted to fuck and told it bluntly and would do it. At least this kind of pig assumed his ugliness.

Still, he would play his instrument and trounced his clients at weiqi and xiangqi with the unflappable serenity he gained from being a starving street rat bent on ascending as one of the most respected cultivators in the Empire. It wasn’t that different from attending the many events in which the other sects would talk behind his back and hope for his humiliating demise.

Also, he promised Madam Tang that she would get to keep all the gifts and money these pigs would send him. She was granting him shelter until his ruined meridians finally recovered from giving birth, and would keep watching over Yuan’er once he would return to Cang Qiong.

Shen Qingqiu had hesitated a long time before settling on this course of action. However, he couldn’t see another way to raise his baby without outing his true disposition to his so-called martial siblings.

Oh, they would trip all over each other to grovel and beg his forgiveness, to be sure. But they would want to protect and take care of him, he was a kunze and it was so extremely rare for a kunze to be allowed to cultivate, they were considered far too precious for the nation’s future, they couldn’t focus on releasing themselves from earthly tethers when they could bear heirs to the people ruling the land.

At best, Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t be able to leave his Peak without an escort to do everything in his stead, be it fighting a monster or wiping his ass. At worst, Shen Qingqiu would be locked up in his bamboo house, to never go outside again.

Maybe he could have borne it (who the fuck was he trying to persuade ? He would rather slit his own wrists than be treated as a weak, dependent creature to contain for his own good ), but now he had to think of Yuan’er above anything, himself included.

Yuan’er would be treated the same as him, a fragile porcelain doll to coddle and keep safe from the world, a prize to win for self-important and arrogant nobles and officials wanting to ensure their bloodline’s prosperity.

And if they were discovered to be Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feasts… well. A righteous cultivation sect had no qualms hunting monsters and gathering spiritual grass in order to make medicine, why would they hesitate if they learned quite a potent ingredient was hidden right under their noses all this time ?

( he deliberately refuses to consider Xiao Mao and Qi-ge’s reaction to this latter scenario, he won’t, because they’re two people and no matter how powerful and determined two people cannot hope fight the whole country and win )

So he would stay the aloof zhongyong to all of them, dishonoring his martial siblings with his frequent visits to the brothel. Once Yuan’er would be old enough, Shen Qingqiu would take money enough for ensuring a lifetime spent in comfort for both of them – it wouldn’t be difficult, a Peak Lord’s stipend was nothing to sneeze at, and he could sell paintings and poetry on the side for more gold – and they would disappear from the cultivation world.

Maybe they would build a little farm – a roof to stay dry and land enough to not starve.

( Qi-ge just wouldn’t stop dreaming about it, a house to call their own with him cleaning and cooking while Xiao Jiu would hunt and tend to the garden, and sometimes Xiao Jiu would dream of this little house too )

Shen Qingqiu never had needed a lot to feel happy with his lot in life. He just needed the right person to share it.

Chapter Text

Chen Qingxu had settled on visiting the Red Warm Pavilion every ten days. Sometimes she came on the morning, sometimes right for the midday meal, sometimes when the evening verged on becoming the night, but she would be on time. Every ten days.

« This one is a Mistress Alchemist » she haughtily sniffed, « being punctual will literally save your life if you stay vigilant and don’t screw your experiment up by adding one ingredient too late or leave the elixir on the fire too long. »

The frumpy zhongyong woman just wouldn’t stop reminding Shen Qingqiu she was an Alchemist, mainly when she was giving him and Yuan’er a physical, because she wasn’t a fucking doctor in spite of the huge overlap between healing and Alchemy, and one day she would drag him to Qian Cao Peak for Mu-shidi to deal and would never care about his sorry ass again.

(but he can’t trust Mu-shidi, he cannot trust a man to put his hands on him or his baby, never again, not even if Mu-shidi is the greatest physician in the Three Realms, he just can’t)

( Xiao Mao snarls and spits and doesn’t give a flying shit about bedside manners, but she’s not deliberately cruel and most importantly she’s a woman, even Qiu Haitang at her most insensitive and spoiled was nothing more than naive and careless, no woman willingly harmed him )

She nonetheless did the physicals and delivered elixirs for Shen Qingqiu’s sluggish meridians and his baby’s fragile lungs and stomach, grousing that she would find them in the Eighteen Hells if they dared to die after all the effort she put in their survival and recovery.

He was surprised by her sheer regularity, the short intervals between her visitations. The Ling Shu Peak Lord used to lock herself in her lab and work station for several weeks in a row – in a very memorable occasion, she was so invested in her experiment that she emerged from her peak four months after her last sighting and had been floored by the lack of snow on the ground – wouldn’t her current schedule disrupt her long-ingrained habits ?

She glared at him when he casually pointed this, and he was reminded of a fluffy cat threatened with a bath.

« Someone I shan’t name  » Chen Qingxu growled, « is skulking around my Peak, and the fucking knothead has the gall to smile when this one tells him to fuck off and focus on his own duties. Apparently, he hopes I will have pity on him and confess where I left you. »

Ice was forming in Shen Qingqiu’s chest, a laden weight situated beneath his dantian. He breathed through the mouth as his heart went rabbit-quick.

« You won’t tell him » he said, and he didn’t know if it was a plea or a command, his voice sounded so distorted in his ears.

The freckled woman snorted as she flopped on his lap, her face turned towards the sky – Shen Qingqiu enjoyed sitting in the courtyard when the sun was high, he was so cold he needed the warmth and Yuan’er enjoyed dozing off in a woven basket right besides him.

« So long as a-Jiu doesn’t forget to feed this one, she won’t » she reminded him.

« Did Xiao Mao lost her taste for inedia ? Maybe her cultivation has weakened » he sneered at her.

« Fish is worth every sacrifice » she claimed with the zeal of a monk about to rouse peasants in a war of faith. « Meat comes in second. »

Such a glutton, this shimei of his. She had a surprisingly voracious appetite for her diminutive size, enough for the Huan Hua Palace to ask if she’s going to attend when they are throwing a feast and inviting other sects, because she could and would consume half the dishes offered on her own.

It made easy to buy her silence and her services – and the Qing Jing Peak Lord wasn’t hypocrite enough to denigrate her willingness to work in exchange for food.

( Xiao Jiu and Qi-ge were ready to steal and cheat and lie if it meant they would eat enough to rise the day after, instead of growing weaker and weaker until the slavers decided they weren’t worth it anymore and tossed them in a ditch for the dogs and the crows to devour )

It made easy to – Shen Qingqiu didn’t exactly trust Chen Qingxu, she made very clear she didn’t care about anyone else but her, and he lived through too much trials to genuinely feel safe nowaday, but he did feel safer around her.

He wasn’t entirely powerless in this relationship. He still had a way to influence her.

Of course, it wasn’t the only one he could use – as he was pretty sure that the Mistress Alchemist really wanted to learn more about Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feasts, their anatomy and their spiritual prowess. Why wouldn’t she ? Chen Qingxu was heading the Ling Shu Peak, where alchemists and engineers and innovators from all kinds gathered and poked at everything they could find out of sheer curiosity.

She had read the Writings of the Guyueye Masters , she had confessed this to him after the First Month Celebration to explain how she had unmasked him (and she had asked if he wanted to read the book too, a book explaining how to refine him and his baby into medicine and how to best steal their qi from raping them, it was a fucking miracle that he politely refused instead of tearing the manual apart in front of her) but it wouldn’t be enough for a true scientifically-oriented mind. She likely wanted to conduct her own experiments.

And yet she never even tried to broach the subject. Never even tried to keep her hand on Shen Qingqiu’s wrist a kè longer than needed when she was checking on his meridians, never even tried to hold Yuan’er unless Shen Qingqiu was deposing the infant in her arms. Never even tried to steal a few drops of blood or a bit of skin.

She just – kept looking at Shen Qingqiu as she always did, kept calling him an idiot under her breath and rolling her eyes so hard that they would fall one day. She kept acting around him as she would around the other Cang Qiong Peak Lords and the working girls and the food-sellers – around people.

He didn’t know why she was behaving this way. The Ling Shu Peak Lord certainly wasn’t bothered by the prospect of grave desecration, she merely abstained because it was far too messy and tiring and above all useless when the surrounding cities tithed her and Mu-shidi several fresh corpses, so why would she hesitate in front of vivisection ?

And yet Chen Qingxu wasn’t asking, wasn’t looking like she was thinking about it. Shen Qingqiu wasn’t aware she had such a game face – she would clean the house if she wanted to try her hand at gambling, maybe she could actually challenge Yue Qingyuan who’s merciless at cards, no one could believe the polite and self-effacing man with the sweet smile was a full-blown menace that would leave the sucker sitting at the other end of the table with nothing but their eyes to cry.

( everything is in the smile, Qi-ge happily grinned and it was like rainfall in the desert, people relax when you’re smiling at them, no not this way, Xiao Jiu looks like he’s going to rip my throat )

( that’s okay, Xiao Jiu doesn’t need to smile because even his frowns are beautiful )

She wasn’t asking, and Shen Qingqiu was far too much a coward to press and bluntly demand an answer of her on the subject, because she might consider it an invitation, but also…

He cannot believe – he cannot think that she would – Chen Qingxu doesn’t care about anyone but herself, she loudly expressed her distaste for bonding, she had no love in her heart because she ripped it from her chest long ago.

Chen Qingxu didn’t care about people. She wasn’t even fond of them.

Chapter Text

Zhangmen-shixiong was brooding, and it honestly was the most terrifying thing Shang Qinghua had ever seen in his life, including his first meeting with a young Mobei-jun – that was not to say, his king wasn’t terrifying him nowaday with his sudden appearances in his life and his mood swings, but the sight of a bloodsoaked ice demon about to divorce your head from your shoulders certainly belonged to the realm of night terrors !

Even if it also was quite sexy, if you were into bloodplay and ultra-violence. This Qinghua very much wasn’t.

Anyway, Zhangmen-shixiong. When Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky was busy outlining the novel that would later devolve into an erotic shitfest barely worth to serve as toilet paper (thank you Peerless Cucumber for your endlessly imaginative insults and curse his computer for crashing without any warning), he had a very firm idea of the kind of man Yue Qingyuan would wind up to be, and it was a Nice Guy – yes, he deserved the capital letters, moreso now that Shang Qinghua had met him in the flesh and seen his son was living up to his expectations – with a well-hidden fuse.

The cultivation world enjoyed accusing the Qing Ding Peak Lord from softness, because he was so very reluctant to engage in violence – something that should have been anathema to his qianyuan disposition. More than a few sects derided his kindness, calling it a weakness and good only for a sheltered maiden.

Yue Qingyuan was soft the way the ocean was soft. Had you ever asked a sea captain how harmless and puny the ocean could be ?

So Shang Qinghua did his best to be polite and helpful around Zhangmen-shixiong, because Zhangmen-shixiong was kind to everyone, but when someone was unkind to him, weakness was not what the hapless offender would remember about the man tasked with leading the foremost cultivation sect in the Empire.

Even Luo Binghe hadn’t dared to fight Yue Qingyuan in a fair battle, he had to ambush him after psychologically upsetting him through Shen Qingqiu’s maiming. Airplane’s readers had screamed a lot about the wasted opportunity for an Epic Death Brawl, Peerless Cucumber leading the charge in spite of not even liking fight scenes (they always gushed over the weird fauna and flora while complaining over their frequent aphrodisiac uses), but the author had been unsure about his ability to make the sequence as awesome as it deserved to be, and he also was wary about giving Yue Qingyuan the opportunity to actually kill his protagonist.

Zhangmen-shixiong, forgive this humble author for not sacrificing his golden goose on the altar to artistic integrity ! He had bills to pay, and he enjoyed having a roof over his head and noodles to eat ! If it could help you to feel better, the Protagonist’s esteemed father was axed from his final product for the same reason !

On the other hand, maybe Shang Qinghua ought to avoid mentioning Tianlang-jun. The Qiong Ding Peak Lord likely wouldn’t enjoy the comparison with the dude he de-limbed before helping to seal him under a mountain.

Anyway, Zhangmen-shixiong brooding ! He really wasn’t subtle about it, spending his free time skulking around the Ling Shu Peak, with all the disciples trying to make him leave and powerless to actually convince him to do so, and his smile so gentle and sweet that Shang Qinghua immediately fled to the Zui Xian Peak and drank himself stupid to erase the smile from his short-term memory, or it would have followed him in his nightmares.

Shi Qingxuan had been very understanding, if rather peeved about losing a whole barrel of snow-flavored yellow wine. But she was laidback as a rule, after all – by the way, this Qinghua still was surprised to see the Zui Xian Peak Lord had turned to be genderfluid, he merely mentioned that nobody could decide if the dude was a gal or not but it was supposed to allude to his beauty, not a promotion of non-binarity !

The Ku Xing Peak was rumored to send daily prayers to the Heavens for Shen Qingqiu’s upcoming return to Cang Qiong, the current situation was that bad. Absolutely no one liked the Qing Jing Peak Lord – well, no one except for Yue Qingyuan, and that was the root of their ongoing mess.

Before reincarnating in an omegaverse, Airplane had written Yue Qi and Xiao Jiu’s disaster of a relationship as heavily codependent : both of them so heavily traumatized by their childhood and adolescence’s trials that they were unable to fully trust another person beyond the other. It ultimately played a role in Cang Qiong’s destruction, rather tragically : Luo Binghe, this poor little orphan starved for recognition and tenderness, had craved from his aloof shizun the pure and deep love that Shen Qingqiu couldn’t bear to lavish on another person than Yue Qingyuan. It couldn’t end any other way than in tears and bloody ravages, because demons loathed it when they couldn’t have what they coveted.

Being a qianyuan in this world, Zhangmen-shixiong’s obsessive care and protectiveness towards his shidi had been cranked up so high that it had shooted up somewhere in the upper stratosphere – this disposition, despised and mistrusted as it was, was nonetheless lauded for producing extremely devoted guardians and watchdogs, their only worth according the current society.

Yue Qi would have internalized the whispers and discrimination against his disposition, and he would have channeled everything he was into being Xiao Jiu’s stalwart defender. It likely was the very foundation of his entire being : loving and treasuring Shen Qingqiu was the same as breathing for Yue Qingyuan, and he would stubbornly pursue this course of action no matter how much his martial siblings were heaping criticism upon him, no matter how much Shen Qingqiu himself was rejecting Yue Qingyuan.

It was a mite pathetic, and rather sad when you thought about it. But Shang Qinghua would never actually tell this out loud, as the Qing Jing Peak Lord would skin him alive for trash-talking Zhangmen-shixiong and the hack author was quite attached to his skin ! Unlike his previous life, he barely suffered from the dreaded curse of zits !

Fortunately, Zhangmen-shixiong was relatively contained and sane as long as he knew where Shen Qingqiu was. Unfortunately, he started to unravel when he didn’t know – his protective instincts deprived of their outlet combining with the trauma of believing his Xiao Jiu dead and gone for several years before learning he had been forced into an apprenticeship under a demonic cultivator, no matter how much you squinted it was a really bad mix.

Hence the lurking around Ling Shu Peak. Shang Qinghua earnestly prayed for Chen Qingxu to be strong in front of the danger – she likely didn’t need it, she was taking so much after Miss Chu that he kinda wanted to cry a bit because she had the same temperament and same face but Chen Qingxu wasn’t Miss Chu and it hurt to look at her and knowing that, knowing she wasn’t a piece of home – and so far, she hadn’t been intimidated into cracking and confessing the Qing Jing Peak Lord’s hideout.

More than a few Peak Lords resented her for her continued silence. Qi Qingqi was the most vocal on the matter, partly out of feminine hostility, partly because she really didn’t like Shen Qingqiu and couldn’t understand why her martial sister would try to watch over him. Unless they were fucking, because the Qing Jing Peak Lord was nothing but an unrepentant lecher, everyone with eyes could see how familiar and inappropriate he was towards women !

Of course, the Xian Shu Peak Lord wouldn’t express her opinion out loud, not after seeing Liu Qingge coming back from the engineering Peak with his eyes almost scratched out for blurting said accusation with his usual tactlessness.

It was six months already, and Shen Qingqiu wasn’t slated to leave seclusion before three years, maybe more. Shang Qinghua really hoped it wouldn’t be more.

Chapter Text

A truly fascinating characteristic of bonding was the sheer difficulty of classifying the phenomena as spiritual, mental or even physical. Indeed, in so many occurrences it would be best to renunce any hope to denumber them, it was a mix of the three categories.

Of course, it meant Mu Qingfang’s job as a physician wouldn’t be easy if he needed to untangle a bond that soured or broke. But the mild-mannered zhongyong didn’t pick the Qian Cao Peak for his studies because it would be the easiest path to handle – he distinctly remembered his former wide-eyed disciple self wanted to help people.

It was hard to do so. Many people in dire need of help rejected any attempt of granting them succor out of shame or fear or misplaced pride, many others were suffering beyond his capacities to relieve their pain, and far too many others were dumb or cruel enough for discouraging even the most dedicated healer to rescue them from the consequences of their choices.

There was a reason why healers and doctors and physicians were required to be gifted with unbending compassion and unflinching will. They would break under the strain otherwise.

Being surrounded with people ready to sit on them because they worked too much for their own good was a good thing for them, too. Qingxuan-shidi and Wei Qingwei never hesitated to interrupt Mu Qingfang when they thought he deserved a vacation, no matter how much he groused about it.

« Mu-shidi’s desire to help others indeed is a mighty, respectable endeavour. And Mu-shidi won’t get to help anyone if he doesn’t put his own health first and foremost » Wei Qingwei had bluntly declared the first time he bodily dragged the Qian Cao Peak Lord in the countryside for a walk – his shixiong was so very fond of walking, it changed from the noise and narrow space in his smithery.

Frankly, bonding with the Wan Jian Peak Lord hadn’t been a surprise. As already expressed, Mu Qingfang needed someone to remind him to take it easy, and Wei Qingwei needed someone he could watch over.

Such was a qianyuan’s fundamental truth : a wish to protect. A craving to be useful, to be the one ensuring the den was safe and stocked with the essentials and some luxuries if possible. Such a simple truth, and yet so complicated a condition to fulfill.

Fortunately, joining a cultivation sect granted a qianyuan opportunities aplenty to sate their cravings. The Bai Zhan War God was the truest example Mu Qingfang could ever point, as he casually roamed the country for monsters to fight and occasionally came back to Cang Qiong in order to dote upon his younger sister.

Yet the physician had his reserves about the Liu siblings’ relationship. It was strong and healthy, no doubt about it, but a cultivator’s life was one fraught with ever constant danger. Liu Qingge could be killed in an ambush or under the blade of an ambitious disciple, or young Mingyan could be devoured by a demonic plant or drown in a flash flood – then what would become of the mourning, grief-crazed survivor ?

Mu Qingfang could only hope that the surviving sibling would have built a support net strong enough to not go in a rampage, or slowly fade from depression. It would be a disaster and a tragedy for the Twelve Peaks, no matter the outcome.

Qi Qingqi certainly would refuse to let things get so bad, if Liu Qingge met an untimely demise – he was the Liu most liable to die, since his younger sister was much more prudent and not as given to wanderlust – she considered every young lady living and studying on the Xian Shu Peak as hers to protect and safeguard with snarling and hissing directed at the males that looked like they would be tempted to visit the fairies.

In hindsight, such a defensive behaviour was rather expected : no one would send a daughter or sister or another kind of female relative to cultivate immortality unless the girl was unable to bring honour to her family. Unless the girl had no family anymore. Unless the girl was safer fighting demons and monsters than among her family.

More than a few fairies currently living on the Xian Shu Peak had perfectly justified grounds to fear and loath men. There was a reason for the barrier surrounding this mountain – and there was a reason why it was so very rare to find a virgin on said mountain, and it wasn’t because lone women would indulge in shameless and unnatural passions as rumour would have it.

Two thirds of these fairies were qianyuan. Parents often would bring them to Cang Qiong or another sect when they presented and revealed themselves as a disappointment instead of a kunze son, when they weren’t making the travel on their own after being thrown in the streets to starve and be killed by the first drunk passing by.

A rumour claimed that somewhere on the Xian Shu Peak, there was a shrine dedicated to Guanyin, She of the Boundless Compassion, for all the girls that didn’t make it to the mountain. This rumour, Mu Qingfang was far too ready to believe.

The physician had visited his martial sister’s Peak twice or thrice in his tenure for medical emergencies, but Qi Qingqi had the situation perfectly handled : she was caring for her fairies, her disciples looked up to her for protection and advice. Everyone was content and satisfied.

Now, the only qianyuan left was the one that really needed help. He also was the one that wouldn’t ask for it, because Zhangmen-shixiong had no self-esteem whatsoever and his priorities were so heavily skewed it would take divine intervention to straighten them – and the physician nonetheless believed it wouldn’t be enough to fix the matter.

Yue Qingyuan bore a spiritual wound from his disciplehood, since he foolishly decided to tame one of the strongest blades within Wan Jian’s armory. It never was a good thing for a cultivator, and it was heavily adviced for said cultivator to not add another injury – one mind oftentimes crumbled under the stress and pressure from holding itself together after a grievous blow, and could outright disintegrate following a second assault.

For Yue Qingyuan to keep breathing and functioning as a perfectly sane human being instead of being left a drooling shell in spite of Xuan Shu and Shen Qingqiu’s constant rejection, was nothing less than a bloody miracle, and Song Qingshi from the Ku Xing Peak never missed an opportunity to thank every deity that would listen for the Sect Leader’s potent will to live.

Mu Qingfang grimly hoped for the Sect Leader to finally have a serious talk with Shen-shixiong, because letting both his shixiongs continue their masochistic, toxic relationship just wasn’t good for Yue Qingyuan’s sanity. The man’s qianyuan instincts wouldn’t allow him to move on from the Qing Jing Peak Lord, they would push and push at Shen Qingqiu because the sour zhongyong had been designated as Yue Qingyuan’s protectorate and he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

A qianyuan’s protectiveness could turn dangerous if the qianyuan didn’t feel sated, and Yue Zhangmen was Cang Qiong’s most powerful cultivator, strong enough to hold his own against the last true Demon Sovereign from the Heavenly Demon strain. Keeping him sane would prevent the Twelve Peaks from literally going in flames.

A possibility that grew more and more likely since Shen-shixiong’s sudden disappearance. No, it started several months before this, didn’t it ? Yue Qingyuan had grown restless and irritable after going on a mission with the other man – the other Peak Lords had not considered it worthy of a comment, merely wondering if it meant that Zhangmen-shixiong finally was nearing the end of his seemingly endless fuse towards Shen Qingqiu’s ungratefulness.

What actually happened on this mission ? If Mu Qingfang could intervene before it reached a tipping point, he really needed to know.

Chapter Text

Being an infant sucked balls, massive hairy ones, and Shen Yuan couldn’t wait to reach puberty again. Yes, it would mean he would suffer zits and bad breath and bones aches again, but he was so desperate he couldn’t care less. Bring it on ! He just wanted to be a grown up ! So big that he won’t be a cute little doll anymore !

Yes, a baby could nap all day long and drool everywhere and no one would yell at him because it would be the most assholish move ever, right there after kicking puppies and drowning kittens, but a baby couldn’t drink anything but milk, and he needed to be carried everywhere, and he couldn’t even scream at people to leave him the fuck alone because he was tired and annoyed out of his mind. So yes, Shen Yuan really wanted to grow up.

He also hoped that he wouldn’t be so sickly anymore, a lot of preemies (he was pretty sure he was born a mite too early in this life, it would explain why his mother just wouldn’t leave him sleep in a cradle at night instead of foregoing the kangaroo care) would become perfectly strapping young lads and lasses so come on, world ! This Shen Yuan already was a pitiful wreck in his former life, don’t you go and typecast him because it would be nothing but pure laziness !

Someone in the Celestial Bureaucracy had to be listening, as Shen Yuan’s first birthday was seeing him walking on a short distance without falling flat on his face and able to say no and wanna and pretty .

His nannies had been thoroughly dismayed when his first word had been a negation instead of one of their names. His current mother had been surprisingly cool with not being called mama .

( one day he will have to say it but for now he cannot bring himself to tell the word, because if he says it then it becomes real and he will have accepted this brand-new world as his, while his parents and siblings are still in the one he left and he just cannot )

Pretty , well, it kinda was obvious he would quickly learn this word. A prostitute needed to be as pretty as possible if she wanted to stay in this line of work. To Shen Yuan’s resigned disgust, his current mother was the prettiest of them all, so he was likely doomed to inherit the looks – he didn’t want to be pretty, thank you very much, he wasn’t interested in selling his body ! Or getting raped, because scum everywhere firmly believe a prostitute cannot be forced into sex no matter how much she cried and refused !

This Shen Yuan didn’t lose his v-card in his former life, and he wasn’t eager to lose it in the current one ! At least not for money or avoiding to get his throat slit ! A guy needed some romance, for fuck’s sake !

Auntie Mao had blinked when she had been informed that his first word was a firm and resounding no in front of getting dressed with an awfully pink little dress (Shen Yuan really hoped his nannies were putting him in skirts and dresses because it made easier to change diapers, he couldn’t deal if they insisted because they wanted for him to be cute, let him keep some shreds of manhood damnit) before she turned towards his mother.

« So he’s going to be just as much of an annoying asshole as you ? »

The kunze had frowned, his smell souring and filling with overpowering rotten undertones.

« He shouldn’t be anything like me » the man said, and the raw helplessness in his voice combining with the sickly sweet scent of overripe fruit had been too much for Shen Yuan’s dumbass baby body that immediately burst into tears, and everyone had panicked and fussed over him until he calmed down.

Shen Yuan nonetheless remembered the incident and frantically prayed for it to be a good omen – if his current mother was opposed to see him joining the oldest profession, it should be alright for this Shen Yuan to become some low-level official in the Imperial government. He wasn’t after glory or honours, he just wanted a quiet posting that would grant him a little house in the countryside, with money enough to not worry about starving. Oh ! And a room for books – a lot and a lot of books, this world wasn’t technologically advanced enough for Weibo and wasn’t that horrifying, but Shen Yuan wouldn’t budge on the matter of his personal library ! How was he supposed to endure life in an omegaverse without the trashiest novels to mercilessly criticize ?

Or maybe he could join a sect and become a cultivator. Shit, that would be fucking awesome – he would have a flying sword and would meet all the weird monsters, and people would call him Immortal Master Shen when they would see him wandering the country and looking all badass and serene. On the other hand, a cultivator had to, well, cultivate and Shen Yuan wasn’t sure he was gifted in this area. He supposed he could live without the nifty magical powers, even if he internally cried rivers of blood at the prospect of renuncing a freaking flying sword, but failing the entrance exam because he was a Muggle… that surely would be depressing.

But that were things he would have to solve in the future. Now, he was a not-so-helpless toddler that could actually run from his nannies when they wanted to coo over him, and he was allowed to eat in his mother’s plate instead of suckling on the guy’s teats – THAT was a memory Shen Yuan couldn’t wait to discard, hello infantile amnesia my new best friend !

His mother would grumble a bit but always crumbled when Shen Yuan started to whine and pouted with big, teary eyes – his nannies just wouldn’t stop calling him cute, so he would milk the shit out of it – and would even spoonfeed him, a bit humiliating but not as much as shitting your pants or being carried to the hospital after fainting in the street. The older kunze had a huge sweet tooth, the nannies constantly brought him pastries and tanghulu, but he was keeping these for himself and Shen Yuan had no real desire to challenge him for it – he enjoyed sugar as much as anyone, but he had no access to a toothbrush and wanted to avoid ruining his teeth long before gaining the full set, it was intended to last him a lifetime.

Auntie Mao was a shameless carnivore that would consume her food with the energy of someone facing starvation every time she stepped outside. As if Shen Yuan needed more proof of her being a vagrant, and he could feel his heart break for the woman – well, until he got a sniff of her, then his mother would yell at her to take a bath because she stunk to high heavens, did she want to be reincarnated into a fucking turd for her next life ?

Sometimes Shen Yuan thought his mother and Auntie Mao really had lucked out with him not forgetting his past life, because they would have been fucking embarrassed about corrupting a minor with their unrestrained potty mouths. It was enough for grandma – she actually was named Madam Tang, and he was pretty sure that one of the nannies was her blood daughter but he wasn’t sure about which one – to cluck her disapproval and glare whenever they forgot themselves around Shen Yuan.

For all the good it did, both the kunze and the freckled zhongyong didn’t even notice her attempts at being a moral guardian, and where was the world coming to for a brothel’s madam to serve in this role ? All the more sad that her efforts were wasted on Shen Yuan, who had seen his vocabulary thoroughly expanded by so many chatrooms and virtual forums.

Still, she was trying her best, and for this Shen Yuan would wait to leave her brothel before letting his tongue run free. He was sure she would like the gift.

It wasn’t like he had a better idea, or the means to buy her something nice.

Chapter Text

Wasn’t that a sad, sad thing, that the less troublesome acquaintance of Shang Qinghua was his designated murderer, the future Mobei-jun ? Sure, the ice demon was always slapping him or glaring whenever he opened his mouth, but he left this poor, lowly author free to spy and report in his own time !

Compared to this, the other Cang Qiong Peak Lords truly were looking like a bunch of bullies, with their constant demands and their bitching when the An Ding Peak Lord miraculously managed to find what they wanted, without too big a delay. Airplane remembered having written the original goods as fuelled by spite and envy, but now he really empathized with his character on a soul-deep level.

Maybe it would have been a good idea for extra materials, a chapter from the original Shang Qinghua’s viewpoint describing how downtrodden he felt and how justified he was in wanting for his martial siblings to be the ones inconvenienced for once ? Nah, his readers weren’t paying for a villain’s introspection – that was why he scrapped Shen Qingqiu’s backstory after all, plus his masterpiece was seen through Luo Binghe’s eyes and the dude was bent on painting his shizun as the epitome of evil – they wanted papapa, the more outrageous the better, and this land-bound Airplane needed the money, so papapa they got.

At least it was simple, in his former life. Since he had been acknowledged as the An Ding Peak Lord, Shang Qinghua was reduced to browse the markets and the countryside for weird seeds and unlikely beasts, thank fuck for his demonic contacts helping on this front, but on the other hand it wasn’t so great because people apparently noticed he had a knack for procuring rare ingredients and started to relentlessly pester him about it, why wouldn’t they go and harass Liu Qingge, that literally was his job to wander the Empire and hunt things ! Oh yeah, Liu Qingge had a scary disposition, his resting bitch face truly ruined all the appeal of his unearthly prettiness.

Shang Qinghua had decided he never would sire children if it meant they would constantly ask him for things. Twas a stroke of good fortune for him to be a shameless cutsleeve – okay, not so shameless after all, he wasn’t openly publicizing himself as gay but if someone wanted to know he wouldn’t lie, people just didn’t care about asking the question so it was their own fault – this way he had nothing to fear about unplanned fatherhood.

Anyway, his ability to find anything so long he was saddled with a request. This Qinghua certainly wasn’t expecting for Chen Qingxu to appear in his office – she did her own groceries runs and as such gained even more of his approval, even if her disciples constantly needed furniture and tools because they wouldn’t stop blowing them up or turning them into jelly or whatever – and bluntly tell him that she wanted starry silver lion’s paw blossoms and green clay from the Southern demon marshes.

As far as requests went, this one was rather easy to fulfill – Mobei-jun would allow him on the mountains in his dominion for picking the blossoms, and the Southern marshes were such a rotten, stinky place that the demons wouldn’t go there because it was so boring and pitiful – but Shang Qinghua nonetheless had been floored.

« Why the heck does Chen-shijie even want these ? » he dared to ask.

Chen Qingxu blinked at him, and he didn’t need to read his mind to know she was baffled and a bit irked in front of his perceived stupidity – which, ouch. He had attended Tsinghua, Chen-shijie ! In a former life, but still !

« Green clay for absorbing odors, and the blossoms for a cooling paste » she had condescended to explain. « This one is working on a scent suppressor and a pain-reliever. »

« Oh man » he had moaned, « I volunteer to test the latter, my back is killing me from leaning so much. »

Shang Qinghua wasn’t expecting for Chen Qingxu to actually listen his whining and consider it as a blessing to use him as a guinea pig for her new drug. But hey ! Free pain relief ! Seriously, he was reduced to envy Rayman, little dude didn’t have a neck to burn after hours upon hours of reading reports and keeping him awake at night.

(maybe he shouldn’t be that surprised, miss Chu wasn’t nice at all and yet she could be so carelessly kind, such a strange dichotomy in her character and she was utterly unaware of it because she immediately forgot everything after the fact)

So he was busy laying on his woven rug, a cold cataplasm on his neck while the Ling Shu Peak Lord ranted about how fucking complicated to refine the lion’s paw blossoms had been because essence of cold was so intrinsecally seeped within the plant, and of course Mu Qingfang picked this moment to go in and declare he wanted to look at the mission reports.

To his credit, the physician had been very polite and outright ignored the fact that Shang Qinghua was in a very undignified posture. Alright, the An Ding Peak Lord had no face whatsoever left, but it still was quite kind to not comment on this.

He also explained he worried about Zhangmen-shixiong finally losing his chill and burning the mountain range to the grounds. Which, yeah, that was a pretty reason to inquire about potential triggers in a past mission.

« Does this Alchemist need to prepare some poison ? » Chen Qingxu asked, her tone light and flat as if she was talking about the weather.

« Chen-shijie should be aware that this humble healer is sworn to preserve life, moreso when it’s about his Sect Leader » Mu Qingfang very sweetly reminded her while Shang Qinghua choked on his saliva and wondered if Mobei-jun would notice him hiding in the Northern Palace to flee the absolute shitstorm that would ensue if Yue Qingyuan actually got poisoned.

« I am currently studying the physiological and hormonal divergences between genders and dispositions, and it seems no one got actually interested in a qianyuan’s potential ability to withstand poisoning, merely in slitting their throats when they present » she argued. « Also, Yue-Zhangmen is such a powerful cultivator, he would feel but mildly incommodated. »

Shang Qinghua earnestly doubted this affirmation – when the Ling Shu Peak Lord wanted for someone to suffer, she would make them regret to be ever born. However… something wasn’t adding up. Yes, she could be talking out of mere scientific curiosity, but this spy’s instincts for detecting lies and bullshit were on the prowl and they believed it was only part of the story.

He still was pondering the matter when he found the mission report Mu Qingfang wanted – not a very complicated endeavour, the physician remembered the dates and the fact that it was a partnered mission between the Sect Leader and Shen Qingqiu, holy shit it was a recipe for disaster, of course Zhangmen-shixiong was currently in danger of going in a rampage.

It was a very dry report. Yue Qingyuan had been badly affected by the parasitic flower they had been tasked with destroying, and barely remembered they went on a mission to begin with, while Shen Qingqiu refused to elaborate in a very blatant attempt to safeguard the qianyuan’s reputation – this kind of flower apparently caused primal instincts to grow out of control, and it caused several hapless travelers to be stuck in a fuck-or-fight state, a very bad thing when you were lost in a forest filled with predators.

Hum, had Yue Qingyuan finally indulged in his repressed fantasies and fucked Shen Qingqiu silly, only to completely forget he committed the deed ? Oh man, it would explain a lot about the Qing Jing Peak Lord’s awful temper before his disappearance into seclusion – Qi-ge failing him again by occluding such an important event as sex, it was the kind of tragic misunderstanding that would constantly happen between the two of them.

Mu Qingfang hummed low in his throat as he poured over the report and Chen Qingxu – Shang Qinghua blinked.

For a few seconds, Chen Qingxu had been scowling.

Chapter Text

Chen Qingxu usually would be uncaring where Yue Qingyuan was concerned. Yes, he was a qianyuan and hopeless when Shen-shixiong was in the same room, but he wasn’t lording his power and influence over his fellow Peak Lords, as the old fart from the Huan Hua Palace was wont to do, there was no huge scandal attached to his name or family, and he kept the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect peaceful and prospering. She had no reason to love him, but she was content to not hate him either.

Of course, Chen Qingxu as a rule had no peculiar attachments or disagreements with her martial siblings, so Zhangmen-shixiong was nothing special on this matter. He only was the highest-ranked cultivator figuring on the list of people she was forced to interact with on a regular basis.

However, since she stumbled upon Shen-shixiong’s big secret – both of them – and contributed to hide another one of his, she found herself struggling with an unexpected and persisting feeling of distaste directed towards her Sect Leader.

She was rather upset with her newfound hatred for the most powerful cultivator in the Empire – no, it wasn’t boasting or exaggeration, Yue Qingyuan currently was leading the sect acknowledged as the strongest in the Middle Kingdom, and he personally fought a Heavenly Demon that had fully mastered his powers, he rightfully could lay claim to the title of Strongest Cultivator Alive Under the Heavens. One just couldn’t start to hate such a man, it was begging the fates to dish you a very nasty demise indeed – or a crushing humiliation, the kind that would see you reduced to a half-mad hermit buried in a damp cave, because Yue Qingyuan actually didn’t enjoy killing but it wasn’t much better to live and regret every mistake you ever committed.

Also, letting herself feel anything, be it hatred or tenderness, was an utter failure of her flawless self-control. She was supposed to keep an iron grip over her own heart – her mind harshly refined until it was a marvel of logical process, cleansed from the impurities that sentimentality would cause ! Why was she suddenly tormented by her heart ?

She wanted to blame Shen-shixiong, and she would be justified since her problems started with him stumbling in her carefully ordained life with his need for her services and his snotty brat that just wouldn’t stop cooing and the way he would grumble yet never hesitated to give her all the fish she wanted…

(such unexpected warmth she feels around him, maybe for the very first time, how could she not notice how cold she was until he decided he could open himself to her)

She wouldn’t blame him, or Shen Qingqiu would get upset, then the Red Warm Pavilion would get upset at her because the whores adored the Qing Jing Peak Lord and spoiled him as if he was the Empress coming to grace their sinful establishment with his presence, and Chen Qingxu would lose a surprisingly comfortable hide-out for when she wanted to bitch and eat without doing so in her lab – even when she was very careful with cleaning and putting intimacy charms, she always felt her disciples were eavesdropping on her.

As the Ling Shu Peak Lord was deprived of the most convenient target for her bad mood, it contributed to reinforce her distaste for Zhangmen-shixiong, such a vicious cycle and she had no idea about how she was supposed to break it. She was unsure about wanting to break it, either.

Zhangmen-shixiong – well, it wasn’t entirely his fault, he was confused just like his fellow Peak Lords by Shen-shixiong’s refusal to fess up and out himself as a kunze. But he nonetheless wasn’t good for Shen-shixiong with his attempts to make him play nice , the way he would always believe the worst every time something bad would happen in the Qing Jing Peak Lord’s vicinity and so many other little things, that slowly piled and piled on until it became a true mountain of micro-agressions.

Truly, it was a verbal and behavioural depiction of lingchi – the death by thousand cuts – with Yue Qingyuan holding the knife. It was… a startingly plausible image, and rather a frightening one because Zhangmen-shixiong just wouldn’t stop smiling. Was this man even able to cry or frown, as she started to wonder if he was some kind of artificial construct unable to truly connect with mankind because of its limited range of expressions !

Chen Qingxu also started to suspect that Shen-shixiong and Zhangmen-shixiong’s shared history went much further than disciplehood, but since Shen-shixiong was extremely tight-lipped regarding his past, she likely wouldn’t have any chance of learning the truth from this side.

And – she felt no wish to do so. Why would she be interested in her martial siblings’ past, when she had rejected her own ? That wasn’t like Shen-shixiong wasn’t a truly interesting person as he currently was – wasn’t worthy of her attention in the present moment because of something he was or did before being accepted amongst the ranks of Cang Qiong.

Yet Zhangmen-shixiong was acting as if he wanted someone else to be the Qing Jing Peak Lord, as if he wanted someone else to look from behind Shen Qingqiu’s face and eyes and use Shen Qingqiu’s mouth to say things the Qing Jing Peak Lord would rather die than utter, and that… that she couldn’t understand. That she could hate.

And that was before Mu-shidi asked for this mission report, before she looked at the dates and the mishap that ensued slightly more than eight months before Shen-shixiong’s premature labour, and she came to the only possible conclusion.

She was irrational to be upset at Zhangmen-shixiong for losing control over himself and fucking his martial sibling pregnant. The Xuan Su Sword was a qianyuan whose interest for Shen Qingqiu stubbornly persisted in spite of the passing years, and he had been doused with a sap that would remove all his inhibitions – of course he would indulge, and of course Shen-shixiong would let him because it was more important to keep such a powerful cultivator calm and not focused on laying waste to the entire province.

It was irrational for her to be upset at Zhangmen-shixiong for not even remembering the incident, for not even suspecting it might bear consequences for Shen-shixiong – a male zhongyong was lacking the equipment to bear children, and even if he had been aware, Yue Qingyuan still would have been useless since a qianyuan wasn’t allowed to raise children. One might sire them, their mating drive certainly was high enough for it to be inevitable, but they wouldn’t interact with their offspring – disregarding the possibility of the qianyuan injuring or outright killing the young ones, they would be nothing but a bad example and a fount of shame for their children.

It was irrational for her to be upset at Zhangmen-shixiong for happily living his life unaware of Shen-shixiong’s troubles because Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t tell anything to anyone, no matter how much he was suffering and yet… And yet she was…

She needed to get a grip over herself, and she couldn’t see how she was supposed to fix the fucking mess as she gloomily brooded in the Red Warm Pavilion, sprawled on several silken pillows as Shen-shixiong was busy showing a whore how to play xiangqi with talent enough to let the opponent win without showing it.

« What is Chen-shimei thinking so strongly, this one hears her frowning from the other side of the room ? »

She sniffed at Shen-shixiong’s arched eyebrow – freshly plucked, yeowch.

« This one wonders which poison in her lab is enough for Zhangmen-shixiong to have the shitters until next month » she bluntly confessed.

A pawn carved from ivory clattered on the floor as the apprentice courtesan choked.

« You will not plot to ruin your Sect Leader » Shen Qingqiu hissed, and she was reminded of a goose about to pinch her legs until they bruised.

« This one doesn’t want to ruin, she wants to humiliate  » she pitifully argued. « Please, shixiong ? He won’t even try to retaliate. »

« How dare you » the kunze fumed. « To even think about it ! »

« Oh please, Mistress Alchemist, do humiliate this knothead » the whore cheerfully encouraged her. « Really, Master Shen, you should let her ! He makes you so unhappy, why wouldn’t he suffer for you ? »

From Shen-shixiong’s abrupt splutter, he wasn’t expecting this kind of argument.

Chapter Text

Yue Qingyuan knew he was a mess. He always had been – he still wondered what in Heavens had led the former Qiong Ding Peak Lord to decide he would be the perfect successor to take care of the Cang Qiong sect, and why the other Peak Lords of the Wan generation had refused to kick a fuss over the decision.

A true Sect Leader wouldn’t be so obsessed by one person above the entire world. A true Sect Leader wouldn’t let his obsession for one person ruin his ability to function as a sane human being.

(but he doesn’t know where Xiao Jiu is, please he needs this one person, there is no difference between caring for the world and caring for Xiao Jiu because Yue Qi’s entire world will always be Xiao Jiu and it has been such for so long)

He knew he was upsetting his martial siblings with his current awful mood. He knew he was harassing Chen Qingxu in such a way that he would have personally struck the offender down if said offender had been an outsider to their sect.

(but she knows where Xiao Jiu is and she refuses to tell, she is letting him without any protection and Yue Qi needs to have Xiao Jiu somewhere safe, even if he’s not physically present he needs to be sure that Xiao Jiu won’t get beaten or violated or starved)

He knew the current situation was far too unstable to continue, and Mu Qingfang cornering him in his office was nothing but a cold and harsh confirmation.

« Zhangmen-shixiong is heading towards a major qi deviation » the physician amiably declared, a sharp glint in his dark eyes – sharp as obsidian shards, a rare stone from the Southern Demon Fire Plains and so cutting that even the toughest beast hide would be unable to stand in front of it. « This physician would rather keep Zhangmen-shixiong healthy and in charge of Cang Qiong than having to slit his throat open after seeing him laying waste to the mountain range and having every cultivator left alive clamor for his demise. »

Mu Qingfang usually was a very polite man, the epitome of compassion and kindness. His easy smile tended to make one forget the physician considered hacking a diseased limb off a kindness for it prevented the sufferer to be wholly devoured by its infection when medicine wasn’t enough to stave its spreading.

It was quite dizzying, the contrast between the cold threat and the concerned demeanour, and Yue Qingyuan rather wanted to give in his first impulse and go cross-eyed. He abstained himself from doing so, it would be childish and a sure indication of an imperfect control over himself.

(no one wants an uncontrolled qianyuan, people in the street and fellow disciples and his shizun and his martial siblings are always watching, always looking at him with cold eyes wondering if today is the day they will finally get to kill him like a rabid dog)

(yet Xiao Jiu never, ever looked at him this way because no matter what, Qi-ge is his dog and nothing will get to change that)

Yue Qingyuan blandly smiled at the physician, his heartbeat thundering right beneath the thick collar of his dark grey and black robes, right beneath the skin of his throat, and his teeth ached with the need to bite and shred.

« This one is listening. »

Such an easy way to put people at ease, smiling and assuring them that yes, he was listening, people enjoyed talking and they enjoyed having a captive audience more. Yue Qi had learned this lesson early, he barely remembered a time when he didn’t know the trick.

Clothed in rags or fine silks, selling street urchins as prostitutes and slaves or selling jade carvings and ivory ornaments, people were the same everywhere.

Mu-shidi squinted, obviously doubtful of his good will – a smart reaction, the qianyuan wasn’t exactly trusting himself either.

« Does Zhangmen-shixiong remember the mission to uproot the Primal Craving Vine in the Liandu forest ? » the physician asked, in the tone of one that already knows the answer and is asking the question merely because it’s expected from a properly raised person.

Yue Qingyuan’s smile cramped the tiniest bit.

« Not… exactly » he confessed.

What he remembered – well, the vine’s name was well deserved, he would never forget this white-hot burn flushing through his body, his mind utterly crumbling under the desperate, all-consuming need to…

Need to what ? This part slipped through his fingers and memory no matter how hard he tried to glue his recollections back together.

(it smelled like golden fruit and it was so soft under his hands and it was everything he ever dreamed it would be and he couldn’t imagine letting it go now that he had found it)

(then he woke up and the world was harsh and cold and barren as always and how he bitterly regretted not staying asleep)

Mu-shidi’s brows furrowed, a barely perceptible change in his expression, while the herbal notes in his smell gained in potency.

« I see. Zhangmen-shixiong, this humble physician strongly suspects Shen-shixiong engaged in dual cultivation with you to keep your instincts manageable. »

Heat blossomed in a merciless burst in Yue Qingyuan’s cheeks and nape, as he struggled to not openly purr his ecstasy to be accused from such a shameful behaviour. He managed to merely produce a strangled noise, akin to a dying mouse, and Mu Qingfang raised his eyebrows – surprise or disappointment in his lustful qianyuan of a Sect Leader, it was hard to say.

« Qingqiu-shidi would have cut my cock before letting me touch him » the Qiong Ding Peak Lord weakly protested.

« Shen Qingqiu is our best tactician » Mu-shidi reminded him. « If offering his own body was the quickest and safest way to ensure Cang Qiong wouldn’t lose our Sect Leader, he would immediately drop his robes to serve as an obedient cauldron. »

Yue Qingyuan wanted to snarl and snap at the physician to not call Shen Qingqiu a cauldron, to not even imply he would use Shen Qingqiu as a tool to pleasure himself and enhance his cultivation ( the kind jiejies with empty eyes and empty smiles from the street urchin days and Wu Yanzi was the kind to commit any abomination imaginable under the Heavens so long it would sate his lust for pain and Xiao Jiu is so pretty, the slavers enjoyed threatening to sell him to a brothel if he couldn’t bring money enough from begging and stealing ). He didn’t.

« Surely this one would remember if Qingqiu-shidi had… offered to dual cultivate… no matter the circomstances » he tried to argue.

« Or maybe he didn’t » Mu-shidi sniffed. « It wasn’t his fault, the Primal Craving Vine thoroughly disrupts the rational mind and it accordingly affects the ability to form coherent memories. Yet the heart is not logical, and one would likely be resentful and hurt after sacrificing their greatest treasure only for said sacrifice to be put aside and forgotten. »

Oh. Oh no. Nausea was churning in Yue Qingyuan’s gut, threatening to rise and drown him in a stinky, corrosive flood.

He had – Qingqiu-shidi – Xiao Jiu might think – he had –

What have you done, Yue Qi ? What have you done ?

Mu Qingfang’s voice rang as a silver bell in a cold morning, ripping through the darkness invading the Qiong Ding Peak Lord’s vision.

« Shen-shixiong is slated to leave seclusion in a bit less than two years. Zhangmen-shixiong might want to use this time to think about the best way to apologize for the incident and the distress it caused. A letter might be best, as Chen-shijie could carry it to Shen-shixiong and it would show how seriously you are treating the matter. »

A letter. Something to do. A way to beg Shen Qingqiu’s forgiveness. Yes.

He could do this.

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan’s mother was used to receive a flood of letters – be it poems praising his keen mind for strategy board games and his nimble hands so apt to create beautiful music from mere strings and wood, lurid proposals that would be thrown in the trash or shameless attempts to bargain for a few minutes of the courtesan’s time. They were brought by blushing and giggling nannies, and a-Niang enjoyed verbally and literally tearing them to pieces while his female audience commented on the writing style and the contents, drinking tea and fussing over their nails all the while.

The reincarnated modern soul that Shen Yuan was still mourned the loss of Weibo and chatrooms in which a disgruntled reader was allowed to trash the shit out of a crappy novel, but he was slightly buoyed by the xianxia equivalent. He actually might be a tiny bit fonder of the xianxia equivalent, since the girls would feed him sweets every time a-Niang descended into a full-blown rant and mockery of his lovestruck fans, as he would be too focused on his anger and disgust to complain about his child eating junk food.

This lowly Shen Yuan would like to remind his esteemed mother how much he enjoyed his tanghulu ! Please don’t try and drown him in the bath for calling you out on your blatant hypocrisy !

So yes, a-Niang reading a letter was nothing unusual. What did put this one out of the comfort zone was the fact that it was brought by Auntie Mao, and she was frowning as if a tax collector had just threatened her with an eviction from her home because she wouldn’t give him money enough for her monthly rent.

A-niang had glanced at the calligraphy and immediately stilled , in the way a rabbit would go still when a wolf was hanging around the forest and had just stumbled upon a chubby, fluffy snack.

«  Why are you carrying this ? » he hissed, his words sizzling and bubbling just like meat forgotten in the oven would do before it became charred and inedible.

« Because he wouldn’t let me alone otherwise » she retorted, her snapping tone just as vicious as the kunze’s. « Congratulations, a-Jiu, you know how to pick the sticky ones. »

A-niang went red then white, his lips thinning as he pinched them together with such strength it had to hurt, before he accepted the message and opened the scroll with very deliberate moves, the kind hinting he wanted nothing more than throw the letter through the window or burn it to ashes. Shen Yuan shivered both from anxiety and anticipation – who was the person that had the power to reduce his composed and aloof mother to that level of anger ?

A long moment was spent in quietness as a-Niang read the letter’s content. Then the scroll brutally clattered against the wall, and Shen Yuan marvelled at the lack of a hole in the white plaster.

« Fuckwit ! » his mother howled, clenching his fists and surrounded by a stinky cloud of rotting fruit with their sickly undertones. « You turtle head, how is your mouth not jealous of your asshole with the amount of shit you won’t stop spitting out ? Are you asking to be kicked, you white-eyed mangy dog ? »

Alright, so a-Niang likely had a past with the hapless dude he was cussing with vigour enough to make the Heavens quiver in front of his wrath – you couldn’t be that furious when it wasn’t personal.

Auntie Mao raised an eyebrow, then she went to look at Shen Yuan currently laying on the bed in the middle of a pile of cushions and doing his best to fool everyone into believing he was more interested by his soft fox toy’s extremely chewable tail than the scene unfolding right in front of him.

Being a toddler with emerging teeth was nothing but a nightmare, and Shen Yuan was very happy to not remember the first time he had been forced to endure such a traumatic experience. Why couldn’t it be the same in his new life ? So unfair !

« Hello, you » she sighed. « You really don’t know how lucky you are, on the matter of family. Or maybe screwed, it’s hard to say. »

He gave her his brightest smile. She snorted, obviously not mollified by his clumsy attempt to play the peacemaker.

« Sometimes, this one wonders why she keeps going back here. And of course you won’t give her an answer to this, you little beast ? »

« How did you call my child ? » a-Niang immediately groused, interrupted as he was pausing in his spirited cursing to breathe.

« This one called him a little beast » Auntie Mao shamelessly confessed as she tickled Shen Yuan’s feet, making him giggle in spite of his best efforts to resist. « Aren’t you ? The greediest, ugliest, most horrible little beast to live on this mortal plane. »

She smelled of brand-new paper and freshly crushed ink with undertones of floral incense, a playful and fond fragance contrasting with her flat tone and her ironic words. Shen Yuan managed to sit up and plant a slobbery kiss on her hand before she could back down.

« Like I was saying, the most horrible beast » she repeated as she offered him a bone teething ring he immediately stuffed into his mouth. « He takes after his mother, this one thinks. »

« And he really shouldn’t » a-Niang sniffed, the stinky cloud refusing to leave him alone. « But I supposed this is hoping too much for him to be wholly spared from idiocy, considering the amount of bad blood in his lineage. »

Aiyah, how self-deprecating ! At this point, Shen Yuan’s poor mother wasn’t humble anymore, he was bordering on full-blown depression – no, depression and him had started exchanging ambassadors and discussing trade and culture ! So awful !

« So » Auntie Mao commented, ogling the scroll pitifully laying on the floor, « this one suppose a-Jiu won’t write an answer ? »

« I am going to rip his fucking balls off and shove them down his throat » a-Niang snarled, « this way, maybe he will finally get an hint that I am not fucking interested in his goddamn apologies ! This is everything he ever gave me ! Apologies upon apologies ! »

« He also gave you more than apologies » the Alchemist pointed, in the long-suffering tone of the woman who knows she’s doomed to defend fairness and reason in spite of very much wanting to be petty and mean.

«  He was supposed to come back for me !  »

Auntie Mao softly hissed between her gritted teeth. The kunze was heaving, his eyes shining with an alarmingly wet glint, his smell watery with despair and Shen Yuan wanted to burst into tears – stupid baby body, so sensitive to the mood ! Get over yourself !

« He was supposed to come back » a-Niang choked, « and he never did, and for years I believed he was dead in a ditch while he was enjoying life away from a dumb slave brat, and when he realized I had survived he didn’t even have the decency to look me in the eye and admit I was a fucking burden to him ! He does nothing but whimper apologies ! »

Shen Yuan hiccuped upon the sheer amount of betrayed rage and all-encompassing grief leaking from the man who gave him life in this world, and even Auntie Mao had paled under her freckles.

« … And you still won’t allow me to poison him » she whispered.

« Because he’s mine  ! » a-Niang growled. « Even if he rejects me as his, he has always been mine ! Now and forever ! »

Slowly, the Alchemist raised her hand to stroke the kunze’s tear-streaked cheek.

« That is why I never want to bond » she mused as he crumbled into her arms, letting her drag him to the bed and make him lie down besides Shen Yuan. « It fucks you up, and you don’t even feel good about it. »

A-niang didn’t answer, far too busy cuddling Shen Yuan as if the older kunze would shatter to pieces without his baby cradled against his chest.

Chapter Text

As long as he could remember, Shen Qingqiu only allowed one single human being to have genuine, real power over him. Everyone else wanting to force him to submit – the slavers, Qiu Jianluo, Wu Yanzi – has been killed by his own hand or left behind, everyone else that could have been trusted with not abusing such a privilege – his mother, his Shizun when he was a mere disciple on the Qing Jing Peak – vanished into thin air.

Yet someone remained, and sometimes Shen Qingqiu hated him, hated himself, for not breaking away, for letting his emotions run wild and free when this person would say something or look at him. Shen Qingqiu hated him and he loved him and he hated himself for being such a mess that Yue Qingyuan still was able to make the kunze lose control over the aloof facade he mercilessly plastered on his true face.

It would be so much easier, if only Shen Qingqiu could forget how he hated and loved Yue Qingyuan.

(but for a long time, Xiao Jiu could love no one but Qi-ge, then he could hate no one but Qi-ge, because Qi-ge is the only one that won’t use Xiao Jiu’s love and hatred against himself, because Qi-ge might the only one to see the truth of him)

It had been so much easier, when Yue Qingyuan wouldn’t even remember he fucked Shen Qingqiu in a fit of madness. There was burning shame from having been taken on the cold dirt with his robes hicked up – not better than a common whore – and icy fury because the goddamn knothead had thrown himself into danger and Shen Qingqiu as usual was the one paying for his recklessness – Qi-ge is never careful, he never grew out of it – and bewildered love because it likely would be the only time that Yue Qingyuan would touch him this way, would show such tenderness without hiding behind apologies and the weight of duty as a righteous cultivator.

(it smelled of petrichor all around them and Qi-ge’s mouth and hands were burning upon his skin and his eyes were glassy with desire and awe as he whispered he loved Shen Jiu so much and he was Shen Jiu’s and would always be, never had stopped being Shen Jiu’s to begin with, he was his and it was everything he could ask for)

(then Qi-ge came to his senses and he has entirely forgot everything he said as he was lying upon Shen Jiu with the forest surrounding them and smelling of the rain after it stopped)

But now, Yue Qingyuan knew he had been fallen low by a fucking dumb plant and decided to utterly ruin Shen Qingqiu’s life by slobbering apologies and regret on a letter, of course he regretted fucking the Qing Jing Peak Lord, no one would want to get close from Shen Qingqiu unless they were paid for the chore, the whole mountain range could have told you so.

The kunze had briefly felt a spark of fear deep in his chest as he read the missive, because what if the Sect Leader had regained his memories from Shen Qingqiu’s anatomy ? Did he suspected, was he already aware and preparing a trap for when the wayward Peak Lord would finally go back to Cang Qiong ? Yue Qi had insisted for a disheveled, half-feral Xiao Jiu to be accepted by one of his martial uncles and aunts, to be cleansed from every bit of demonic cultivation he had learnt under Wu Yanzi and brought back to the right-hand path – surely he would be just as insistent he was acting for Shen Qingqiu’s own good as he locked the kunze away in a comfy, quiet house to never be let outside again.

At least the letter’s content had reassured him on this point : Yue Qingyuan’s hazy recollections were barely clear enough for him to realize he had lost his chastity, nevermind the fine details of the whole endeavour. Shen Qingqiu wasn’t at risk to be outed as a kunze, nor as a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast.

Even if he had been, Yue Qingyuan knew nothing of Yuan’er. His precious child would be safe, no matter what, no matter if Shen Qingqiu never saw him again.

(even if his heart is screaming at this potential future for them, Shen Jiu will never allow the world to reduce his child to a caged bird or a cauldron)

However, the Qing Jing Peak Lord owed his Sect Leader a harsh dressing down for the qianyuan’s continued harassment of his subordinate, the Ling Shu Peak Lord. How dared he – in which world Shen Qingqiu asking to be left alone in seclusion was an invitation to relentlessly pester Chen Qingxu with questions regarding him ? The Alchemist and the scholar weren’t even friends ! Yue Qi had been a slave brat born in the gutter, he knew what kind of names the men that wouldn’t take no for an answer when asking something of a woman deserved !

Truly, it deserved a swift and ruthless kick in the pants, right there it would hurt the most. Chen Qingxu distinctly smelled relieved when he declared he would send her back with a letter to the Qiong Ding Peak Lord.

« Even if he still complains about Shen-shixiong not being under his watch, it will give him something to moon over » she declared, and he snorted because yes, it was Yue Qingyuan exactly , pining and brooding over every single interaction he had with Shen Qingqiu, how pitiful.

His answer was short and direct, a confirmation that yes, he did receive Yue Qingyuan’s missive, unwanted and unneeded as it was. He icily thanked the Sect Leader for recovering his memories, but added he never expected something to come from their tryst, since Yue Qingyuan had proven again and again he had no interest in renewing their formerly close bond through his avoidance of compromising subjects and his shallowness in their interactions. He concluded with the pointed reminder that he was in seclusion and needed rest and quiet, and constant harassment aiming to force him back to Cang Qiong before he was ready would stress him further and delay his return.

Of course, he wouldn’t actually follow on this last threat, he still needed Cang Qiong fully operational until his definitive departure and he prided himself too much on his Qing Jing Peak’s good running to not choose a good caretaker when he would disappear from the cultivation world. So far, no one amongst the little beasts claiming to be his disciples had been found worthy of such a mantle – he would have to recruit more candidates, which meant he would have to attend the official selection. Such a fucking pain in the ass.

« This selection trial is a load of bullshit, anyway » the Mistress Alchemist groused. « How is this one supposed to pick students after seeing them making holes in the grounds ? »

« Maybe Chen-shimei ought to choose the one that brings a shovel able to do the work on its own, since her Peak is one of engineers » the scholar snarked, and she turned a withering glare in his direction.

« And maybe Shen-shixiong ought to choose the one that makes a hole in the shape of a flower or a bird, since his Peak is one of artistic sensibilities. »

That was so stupid an idea, he actually wanted to burst out laughing. How curious – he felt so relaxed with Chen Qingxu that he was able to laugh.

Maybe that wasn’t so unexpected – she was a woman, and as long as he would feed her with all the fish she wanted, the Alchemist was surprisingly good company. He almost regretted not realizing that sooner.

He certainly would have felt a bit less lonely.

Chapter Text

« So, is Sect Leader Yue about to leave Cang Qiong and rampage through the countryside looking for Shen Qingqiu, or does this lowly one have to reassure his brother that no, he doesn’t need to sell his business and flee to Dongying ? » Shi Qingxuan cheerfully asked.

Sometimes, Qi Qingqi bluntly expressed her opinion that the Zui Xian Peak Lord managed to maintain their unwavering good humour no matter how dire the circumstances because they would be permanently soused, and it was hard to try and disprove the hypothesis. The gender-confused Immortal Master always had a jar filled with wine or another kind of liquor hidden in their sleeve.

Maybe it was why his child enjoyed so much dressing as a female, Shang Qinghua mused, woman’s gowns could be truly ridiculous in the width of their skirts and sleeves or the amount of cleavage they showed. Alright, he might not be the most fashionable of dudes, but he had dignity enough !

Even if his readers wouldn’t believe it, as clothing in his novel mainly was there to be ripped apart in the throes of passion or because of a fight…

Today, Shi Qingxuan was wearing a powder blue ruqun set, all embroidered with white orchids and tiny fat clouds, an ungodly amount of silver jewellery glinting around his neck and wrists and in his ears and carefully coiffed hair, his face barely but elegantly painted with rouge on the eyelids and the lips. He was a vision of feminine beauty, in spite of the hopelessly flat chest and the protrusion over his larynx.

Shang Qinghua was a staunch cutsleeve and he still felt tempted. Heck, even Luo Binghe would have hesitated to burn the Zui Xian Peak Lord with his disciples and Peak if he had been given the opportunity to meet him, instead of sulking on the Qing Jing Peak !

(he wants to scream and he wants to puke and he wants to cry as he remembers writing Luo Binghe’s revenge as encompassing the entirety of Cang Qiong, even the disciples that came well after the fated Immortal Conference and the Peak Lords that never could have known about the abuse and would have intervened if only they had been given an hint)

(as a young disciple he got to visit a village attacked by roaming demonic cultivators and one girl lingered for a few days after her house turned into a pyre, she looked like a bit of black coal but stinking of charred meat and she wouldn’t stop screaming in pain until she finally died)

(he’s sorry he’s so sorry he never meant to it was supposed to be nothing but a novel nothing but a dumbass story he’s so fucking sorry)

Chen Qingxu sniffed. Besides her martial sibling, she looked almost ugly with her freckled face, her stained clothes and her sour expression.

« Zhangmen-shixiong is liable to pine a lot » she spat, as if she was claiming Yue Qingyuan was about to sell his Peak to the demons in exchange for a measly copper coin. « So yes, hard times are waiting for us, but Qingxuan-shimei can rest knowing his mortal family will be spared from such a travesty. »

« Unless you write your brother to vent your spleen and bitch about your boss ruining the mood for everyone » Shang Qinghua couldn’t help but add, as he was busy gathering his paperwork – because you needed a licence to sell snake wine on the market, and when you wanted to try a variant with fucking giant newts it meant even more paperwork as you did your best to dodge the eventuality of someone dying from drinking your brew and the irate family suing your dumb ass.

He immediately regretted it, for it caused a fit of laughter in the Zui Xian Peak Lord – Shi Qingxuan’s laugh wasn’t so much a giggle than a shriek, high enough to shatter reinforced glass panes just like this opera singer in the Belgian comic about a curious kid, his white dog and the sailor who wouldn’t stop swearing.

« Shang-shidi, this is the absolutely best ! Now I need to do this, gege is going to be so mad ! »

« Qingxuan-shimei’s brother is always mad » Chen Qingxu pointed, because she was a pill and enjoyed popping everyone’s happy bubbles. « How is that supposed to change anything ? »

« He’s never as mad as when I complain about something » the currently male but liable to change Peak Lord said as his nails patted at the half-full jar besides him – Shi Qingxuan refused to varnish his nails on the grounds that it might ruin his vintages, and the alcohol fumes would dissolve the colour anyway but Shang Qinghua found himself musing about the Mistress Alchemist taking this as a challenge and creating permanent nail polish if her martial sibling politely suggested she wasn’t able to do it.

« Against Qingxuan-shimei for complaining, or against the reason why Qingxuan-shimei is annoying him with his complains ? » the Ling Shu Peak Lord snarked.

Silver bangles chimed and jingled as the resident drunkard waved his hand.

« Eh, it depends. This is why having a sibling is so fun, you never know if you are going to strangle him or slaughter the town to safeguard his honour. »

« Well, my brothers just wanted for me to die in the gutter » Shang Qinghua admitted – really, his best and brightest memory regarding his post-transmigration family was the day they sold him to An Ding Peak as a menial, because at least they were rid of each other.

« I am an only child » Chen Qingxu revealed.

« My poor little melons » Shi Qingxuan tittered, pouting in the most tragic way imaginable, « how unlucky have you been. Still, now you belong to Cang Qiong ! All of us Peak Lords, we are a big family, won’t you agree ? »

It was – a bit sad, to consider how much the Zui Xian Peak Lord was wrong on this point. In thirty years at most, the Tian Gong mountain range would be razed to the ground because Shang Qinghua would sell them to Mobei-jun and it would cause the other Peak Lords to turn against Shen Qingqiu, out of political calcul and genuine dislike.

Twelve Peaks would become cinders and charred bones, so much destruction and death because a bunch of messed up individuals wouldn’t be able to get over their neuroses and be a positive influence upon each other. A real fucking Greek tragedy.

(it was supposed to be nothing but a stupid novel nothing but a badly written nightmare you can leave anytime you want)

(he’s so goddamn sorry)

Chen Qingxu stilled, her smell turning rancid as the ink undertones soured on the fresh paper.

« Are you saying » she hissed in the quiet whisper that heralded a volcanic eruption on the same level as Krakatoa, « that this Mistress Alchemist should consider the Bai Zhan brute as her brother  ? I would rather piss on his maimed corpse and feed it to the carps living in Qiong Ding’s ponds ! »

« Please don’t do this ! » Shang Qinghua immediately yelped as he pictured the frumpy woman doing precisely that after the upcoming mishap in the Lingxi caves – for Heaven’s sake, Liu Mingyan would go berserk and Qi Qingqi would support her head disciple and Shen Qingqiu would give a hand to the Alchemist because mishap or not he still hated Liu Qingge and the dude’s whole lineage, then Shang Qinghua would have to hide himself in Mobei-jun’s palace while the Cang Qiong Mountain imploded way before the schedule.

« Shang-shidi is right » she mused, « people eating the carps would get infected with the brute. Maybe I shall let the corpse in the open for carrion birds ? »

« Aiyah, Chen-shijie is so scary » Shi Qingxuan bemoaned as he frantically fanned himself – a small rigid hand fan painted with goldfishes swimming between lotus blossoms. « One would almost believe she means it ! »

Shi Qingxuan, you sweet, sweet summer child, Shang Qinghua lamented. Of course she meant every word, she was nothing but blunt and straightforward in her loathing.

In her caring too, but she was so bent on refusing to care, they likely wouldn’t get to see it.

Chapter Text

« Might this humble physician inquire about Chen-shijie’s potential involvement into a letter being delivered to the Qiong Ding main office early this morning ? » Mu Qingfang asked, his tone light and serene.

Chen Qingxu didn’t even look up from the bowl in which she was busy crushing several dead beetles, their shells glistening with jewel-green and blue.

« This shidi may » she grunted, her voice slightly smothered by the cloth wrapped around her head to protect her nose and mouth from accidentally breathing dust and fumes as she was tinkering with dangerous substances.

« And will Chen-shijie give him a truthful answer ? » the Qian Cao Peak Lord insisted, raising an eyebrow – she wouldn’t see it, as she was showing him her back and he was staying near the door anyway, it was rather smart to stay as far away as possible from an Alchemist at work and to be ready to flee by the nearest exit available. Nonetheless, he did – an expressive face helped to reassure his patients, so he never truly bothered to gain control over his facial expressions.

« She will not » the Ling Shu Peak Lord bluntly and shamelessly confessed, as she paused in her work and appreciated how finely grinded the beetles have been with a gloved hand.

Well, he was expecting this answer, but he had wanted to hope that for once, his shijie might not act like an offended cat when people were asking her questions about something else than Alchemy or medicine or her Peak’s running.

He wanted to sigh. He opted to speak again – emotional manipulation wouldn’t help him a bit, but he still wanted to say what he was thinking.

« This one would have liked to thank the one responsible for the delivery. This letter truly helped to stabilize Zhangmen-shixiong’s mood. »

The female zhongyong snorted as she retrieved a small phial filled with pale yellow liquid from the small leaden box sitting on the table to her left.

« On a scale from one to twelve, how hard is he mooning after Shen-shixiong ? »

« Maybe an eleven » Mu Qingfang revealed.

Of course, he would have rather seen both his martial brothers finally solving their differences through a heartfelt discussion and the immediate cessation of their toxic behaviour. Unfortunately, the real world cared not for spring novel rules – Shen Qingqiu’s letter had been dripping with so much venom that it was a minor miracle for Yue Qingyuan to not have keeled after touching the paper, and the Qiong Ding Peak Lord was currently busy wallowing in depression as he was wont to do after interacting with the Qing Jing Peak Lord.

Still, he was depressed instead of verging on losing control over his qianyuan nature. Mu Qingfang considered not giving him medicinal teas for the affliction as it was far better for Yue Qingyuan to stay unhappy and sane – something that annoyed him without end, he was supposed to be a physician and able to cure anything. A genuinely good healer shouldn’t have to leave their patient in pain because it actually was a good treatment option !

Chen Qingxu carefully measured a pinch of beetle iridescent powder, dropping it on a small white silk cloth embroidered with alchemical formulas, then poured very carefully a drop of pale yellow on the powder.

An acidid stench and a brief sizzling sound later, half the powder had vanished. What was left dully glinted in the bluish glow of the night pearls.

« Hm, interesting » the Alchemist grunted. « Shang-shidi wasn’t boasting when he claimed the Eastern Demonic Marshes metallic wood-boring beetles could survive the worst acids. »

« Is Shang Qinghua so much interested in demonic beasts and plants, now ? » the physician wondered – he was hearing rumors about the An Ding Peak Lord, quite surprising ones when you were familiar with the man.

Oh, Shang Qinghua could fight, and fight well given genuine motive, but he was the complete opposite of Liu Qingge when it came to battle : the Bai Zhan War God would run towards the enemy in order to annihilate them with extreme prejudice, the logistician would run away howling in fright or outright faint and play possum until someone else killed the monster.

More than anything, the demon lands were replete with danger. To imagine mousy, cowardly Shang Qinghua strolling through these as Wei Qingwei would traipse through the countryside – truly, it beggared the mind.

« Oh, it’s been a while, it seems » the Ling Shu Peak Lord absent-mindedly mused as she freed her face from her cloth protection and prepared herself to clean her workstation. « He knows a lot of curious factoids about demons and their way of life. Maybe he should write a book about it ? »

Mu Qingfang scrunched his nose.

« Our shidi, writing a book ? This one cannot see it – unless it’s some kind of record or annals. »

« Does Mu-shidi know what is the greatest help to a Master Alchemist ? This is the ability to keep the self open to any idea, no matter how foolish or doomed it may seem. Also » Chen Qingxu added, and was it an hint of mischief in her smell ? « this one had seen some drafts for a novella in his office. »

Well, it never was too late to learn something new and unexpected about a martial sibling. The physician politely smiled.

« Really, now ? What was the plot ? »

« Eh, something silly about farmers » the Alchemist answered. « But he very much wanted a happy ending, it was written three times in the draft. Don’t forget a happy ending . »

« It makes sense » the Qian Cao Peak Lord sighed. «  With so much ugliness in the world, and if you take any story to its conclusion, there’s nothing but death. Why not leave the tale as it tells the reader of a beautiful moment ? »

« How disgustingly hopeful from one that really should know better » Chen Qingxu sneered without energy behind the mockery.

Mu Qingfang shrugged.

« That’s precisely because this one is aware of everything painful and twisted in the Mortal Realm that he treasures so much fleeting happiness and beauty. One ultimately has no control over the universe, but they have control over their own fate. And constantly complaining will only see you alone and afflicted with a headache and runny nose. »

« Why a headache ? » the Alchemist asked as she put her gloves away.

« Because this one is always left with his brain swelling awfully big for his skull when he tears up in excess, and let me tell you, this is not comfortable. »

« Willow bark tea » she fired back.

« It doesn’t help. »

« Too bad for Mu-shidi, then. Does he think Wei Qingwei would be interested in these beetles ? If he dips his blades in the powder while he’s forging the steel, it might enhance their ability to fend acidic substances such as beast fluids... »

It was an excellent idea. The physician would have to discuss it with the Wan Jian Peak Lord when the latter would leave his Peak – he currently was busy with the annual inspection of the spirit blades dwelling there, trying to divine if one was currently upset and needed appeasement to not turn malevolent. He occasionally snarked it was much easier than tending to human needs, because nothing was more straightforward than a sword – a sword wouldn’t lie after all, it had no use for claiming it was anything but a blade made to cut and some other activities imbued within its steel by the forging itself.

« I will speak with him » Mu Qingfang promised. « And maybe Chen-shijie ought to speak with Shang Qinghua about this novel of his. »

« Hm-mh » she answered.

This wasn’t her openly accepting, but it wasn’t a refusal either.

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua still had ideas about one story or another. He couldn’t help it ! They wouldn’t leave him alone, and he needed to scribble them on a napkin or the first paper-like surface available in his surroundings or his mind just wouldn’t stop buzzing, worse than a fly stubbornly hitting its dumb head against the wall instead of fucking off through the open window, seriously bugs were standing behind the door for the brain distribution.

In his former life, he would open his special folder on his laptop – it was filled with at least thirty outlines he never got to actually write, but he had enjoyed coming back to them sometimes and adding details or wondering why this character would be so mysterious, it helped when he wanted a break from Proud Immortal Demon Way, all the papapa would give him money but sometimes a guy just wanted to focus on ice carving and the logistics of raising crops when your people were semi-nomad and what kind of weird harvest festival would be held on a given day…

Of course, all these outlines had been lost when he accidentally spilled his noodles all over his laptop, and he still wanted to curl into a miserable little ball and sob his heart out because Fate was a cast-iron bitch who delighted on shredding a starving writer’s hours of work.

Nowaday, he was scribbling with a brush that would cover his sheet with inkblots and stain his sleeves, and he had filled half a carved box with paper and scraps of silk on which barely legible characters sprawled, bits and pieces of sentences that wouldn’t make sense to anyone trying to read them.

Even his cute minions – disciples ! He meant his favoured disciples, the ones that worked the hardest and would clean his office – weren’t allowed to peek inside the box, or they likely would run to Qian Cao Peak and beg for Mu Qingfang to intervene, Shang Qinghua is losing his mind and writing inanities about spaceships and Victorian era and Maya priests  !

However, none of these scraps would ever become more than a pitiful attempt to keep his mind straight by emptying his creativity on few measly sheets of paper.

First of all, have you ever tried writing with a fucking brush ? Shang Qinghua’s hand would cramp, and when he decided a sentence was wrong or weird he couldn’t erase it easily ! Pei, he missed his Word Document so much ! His poor fingers were covered with calluses when they had been perfectly smooth in his former life !

Then ! He was far too busy ! He needed to take care of the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect’s needs for tools and money and whatnot, he needed to explain his cute minions – disciples ! They were supposed to be his disciples ! Fuck it, how could anyone look at him and believe he was a teacher, oh the mind boggles – how to not fuck up on the job because everyone would rip them apart for the tiniest mistake, he needed to run missions for the goddamnit System that wouldn’t leave his ass alone, he needed to keep Mobei-jun happy with him in the hopes that he wouldn’t get turned into a human-sized popsicle, ahhh, there was so much to do ! Thanks fuck he mastered cultivation to the point he didn’t need sleep anymore or his backload would be even worse !

(and there’s also the pervading yet quiet terror in his mind, what if you do it again, what if you create another world filled with marvels and pain and horrors, what if you become responsible for another apocalypse down the line, what if you destroy thousands of lives again just because you wanted to write a dumbfuck novel and you didn’t care about what would happen to your characters because they weren’t supposed to be real, why did that happen, why are they alive, now they’re going to die all of them and it won’t even be quick or painless)

(he’s so fucking sorry, he never meant to)

The other Peak Lords never noticed when he started to scribble something very different from a report – but why would they ? Shang Qinghua wasn’t important enough for them to care or even think he might have a mind of his own, the original goods had been so fucking bitter to be considered as furniture or lower in the scale of Things You Really Ought to Notice and the current An Ding Peak Lord couldn’t help but empathize a bit, but he cheated anyway because he was very much an introvert who wanted to freak every time someone would talk to him, so it was better for his anxiety levels to stay an humble wallflower.

He never even imagined Chen Qingxu might get a peek at the mess in his office and consider it worthy of interest.

« Does Shang-shidi enjoy writing ? » she asked as she was in the courtyard of his house on the An Ding Peak, as she lingered on the threshold after informing him she had been quite satisfied with the potentiel applications found in the Eastern Demon Marshes metallic wood-boring beetles.

He couldn’t help it, he almost jumped out of his skin.

« Ah ha, why would Chen-shijie want to know ? » he nervously laughed, his heartbeat thundering in his ears and his sweat starting to stink of rotten peanuts. « Does she enjoy reading anything but alchemy manuals ? »

She slowly blinked at him, and he suddenly remember a weird tidbit about cats, when they did this to someone they meant I love you . But of course she wouldn’t mean it this way.

« No » she bluntly admitted. « But this martial brother of mine looks like he might be writing a novel in the near future, and this one promised Mu-shidi she would try and convince you to follow this road. »

Shang Qinghua choked on his own saliva. Pei, wouldn’t that be a pitiful demise, maybe even worse than getting shocked to death for spilling his noodles over his laptop – one fitting the lowly scum that the An Ding Peak Lord secretly was !

The Alchemist waited for him to stop coughing and trying to puke his lung out, scratching the bandages covering her right hand – did she suffered chemical burns again ?

« Aaahhh, how weird » he groaned. « But Chen-shijie can tell our resident physician it’s not that simple to write a novel. »

She scrunched her nose, her inky and papery smell filling with… confusion ?

« Does Shang-shidi enjoy writing ? » she repeated.

« You already asked this one... »

« And you never answered » she insisted. «  Do you ? »

He should lie to her. He lied to everyone since he was born into this world, he lied about being a normal child, he lied about being happy to become a Peak Lord, he lied about being trustworthy and reliable, what was one lie more ?

Chen Qingxu was looking at him and her eyes were dark and wide, the murky brown of a flooding river when it carries the soil needed to fertilize crops in the spring.

(Miss Chu never got angry when he stuttered and stumbled upon his words, always waiting for him to tell everything he had to tell)

« … I used to » he confessed, and it burned so much as the words slipped outside his mouth. « I am not sure about wanting it anymore. »

The ideas would keep coming, and he would keep scribbling them but he couldn’t, wouldn’t turn them into stories worth reading, and he wanted to scream because he could see how to build upon the foundations and create worlds again, he could hear the soft whispers of characters waiting for him to pick a brush and give them life, he could see fantastical sceneries unfolding behind his closed eyelids…

(what if you ruin your creation again)

« Shang-shidi… ? You are crying. »

Oh for Heaven’s sake, wasn’t he even able to talk about writing without crumbling into a blubbering mess ? Why couldn’t he stop, he knew how much Chen Qingxu had no patience for tears, she already looked wild-eyed and ready to run away…

She was…

Why was she hugging him ?

It was so awkward and she was so stiff and she obviously wanted to be anywhere but here and she was wearing her hair in twin buns with pale green ribbons, how like Ning Yingying, but Ning Yingying wouldn’t become a disciple of Cang Qiong before a few years in the future…

He sobbed in her hair. It was feather soft and smelled of jasmine oil, and underneath the jasmine she smelled of sheer bafflement and slight panic and – he couldn’t find annoyance anywhere.

Shang Qinghua was aware that people thought he was annoying – useful but a constant irritation to them. Even when they tried their best to be polite, even when they kept their smells so reined in they were almost unable to read, he knew.

Yet Chen Qingxu…

Sometimes, the greatest writer ever will find himself speechless. Shang Qinghua was far from laying claim to the title, but he was familiar with feelings strangling the voice in his throat because they would be so strong.

He hugged her back, he could do nothing else, and it was awkward and sloppy because he was rusty on the matter of affectionate embraces, both his families hadn’t been huge believers in positive physical contact, but he likely wasn’t doing so bad because she wasn’t breaking it. She stayed there.

She stayed there a long, long time.

Chapter Text

Now eighteen months old, Yuan’er was able to climb stairs on his own and run fairly quickly, to his nannies’ great dismay when they sought to dress him or to keep him away from a currently occupied room – it would be a disaster if someone saw him and believed he was for sale, Madam Tang never would peddle such young flesh and loudly expressed her opinion on the matter several times already but people would readily believe the worst from you, moreso when you were working in the extremely cutthroat scene of carnal pleasure and entertainement. He could drink from a cup without spilling a drop on his clothes, even if he still needed help when using a spoon – a limitation that caused the toddler unending frustration and resulted in a few screaming tantrums.

He hated having his diaper wet – that was the surest way for him to suffer a meltdown. Yinghua had suggested for the boy to start using open-crotch pants, this way he would run to the spitoon instead of pissing and shitting all over himself, but Shen Qingqiu had objected on the grounds he refused to let his baby getting cold down there . And what if he accidentally flashed someone, because split pants certainly weren’t hiding the unmentionable parts !

If a client accidentally learned the Red Warm Pavilion was raising a kunze boy – there would be a flood of disgusting pigs trying to bribe Madam Tang into selling them Yuan’er, or outright bypassing the Madam and attempting to steal Yuan’er, just because he was born with the bad set of genitalia.

(nothing is sacred when you have money enough, there is a reason why Shen Jiu kept his disposition a secret when he was a slave brat in the Qiu household, they would have seen him forcefully married to this fuckard Qiu Jianluo and chained to his bed, especially since the alternative was to have the household executed for enslaving a kunze, if they didn’t outright kill him and claimed it was a tragic accident without a care for the rumored misfortune that would destroy anyone daring to raise a hand against a kunze, some people are so stupid they won’t listen divine warnings)

There was a reason why Shen Qingqiu didn’t oppose the flowers putting his son in dresses and pulling his downy-soft hair into tiny buns, something that coupled with the chubby face would induce anyone in error about the child’s primary gender. A little girl in a brothel wasn’t something noteworthy, after all – she could be trained to replace her mother once she would be old enough. But a very young boy in a brothel – a whore would sell her male children to not waste food on them, unless her brothel was catering to cutsleeves.

Madam Tang’s policy was to use female flowers only – but she would open her doors to qianyuan girls, claiming there wasn’t much difference between their cocks and a zhongyong male’s, and guessing how it would please some clients to have the opportunity to tame a qianyuan, or boasting her girls wouldn’t tire after the first orgasm because of their enhanced lust and stamina. And since a female qianyuan was barren unless she consumed fertility potions or cultivated high enough for revitalizing her womb, they wouldn’t bear illegitimate brats to threaten the rightful heir’s inheritance or ruin anyone’s reputation.

Wu Lin and her older twin sister Wu San were such girls. They decided to run away before their father’s main wife could smother them with a pillow for not being born with the right disposition, naively believing they could find their way to a cultivation sect on their own. The twins likely would have perished from cold if Madam Tang hadn’t taken them in, and after spending the winter in the Red Warm Pavilion had decided becoming a courtesan would be more rewarding and less dangerous than running all around the Middle Kingdom to fight monsters and demons.

Wu Lin had been a very good student in writing and mathematics, so much she was entrusted with the brothel’s ledgers and at least three noblemen came to her on a weekly basis for financial advice. She seriously considered becoming a money-lender when her looks would fade, and Shen Qingqiu had no doubt about her thriving in her chosen profession. Wu San had been more interested in learning how to wield her hairpins and fan with lethal intent if a pig wanted to be more handsy or violent than allowed, and now was eying Chen Qingxu as a potential teacher for the preparation of tasteless poisons – the Qing Jing Peak Lord had promised he would discuss the matter with his martial sister, how could he refuse the qianyuan woman an opportunity to improve herself ?

The Ling Shu Peak Lord would likely hiss in disgust and fling the nastiest insults she could imagine at him, he already could hear her, wasn’t she busy enough with all the dumb brats living on her Peak and constantly doing their best to make the place explode ? Then she would snarl at Wu San for letting the tea leaves boil too long, because such or such plant hidden among the innocuous tea leaves would utterly lose its toxicity once heated beyond a given point.

He would know, he was the same. Maybe he should have joined the engineer’s Peak rather than the scholarly one, it would have spared him so much grief… But no, the only man he would ever call Shizun had taken him in because the other Peak Lords from the Wan generation mistrusted the feral demonic cultivator apprentice he had been, fancied by the Qiong Ding Peak’s foremost disciple or not.

Cang Qiong still mistrusted him, still loathed him, but the thought – wasn’t stinging that much anymore. Why would he care about these so-called martial siblings he had been saddled with, when he soon would entirely disappear from the Tian Gong Twelve Peaks ? Soon, Shen Qingqiu would be free and at peace, caring for no one beyond himself and Yuan’er.

Of course, he needed to carefully plan his departure – he was thinking about engineering a false death scene, it would be the best since merely vanishing could send a tracker after him, Liu Qingge wasn’t half-bad at hunting his prey on long distance. Hm, could he build a simulacra of a human being, some kind of flesh doll in his likeness ? That would further help to fool the cultivation world…

And this would be the kind of challenge Chen Qingxu would enjoy – the Alchemist would force-feed him one of her experimental brews if he forgot to inform her of the plan. As things stood, she nonetheless would be infuriated to lose her reliable provider of meat and fish and – the idea of never seeing her again, of Yuan’er forgetting the woman who helped him to be born…

A dark, ugly knot twisted Shen Qingqiu’s insides when he thought of it. It reminded him how nausea swirled in his gut when he still was in the Qiu Manor, wondering if Yue Qi had been murdered on his way to the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, because he had promised, he swore he would be back, so why was he taking so long ?

(how dumb he had been, to believe in forever, to believe Yue Qi wouldn’t seize the opportunity for a better life no matter the price to pay, be it in blood or in forsaking the brat he refused to discard for so long)

At least he owed Chen Qingxu an explanation of why he was abandoning his duties to Cang Qiong. She wouldn’t be happy with him, but she would understand – and she likely would be the only Peak Lord to not feel relief or outright glee at the prospect, since she had given hints of not hating his conversational abilities.

Maybe he would tell her where to find him and Yuan’er, if she wanted to visit – unlikely, she always was so busy in her lab or searching ingredients in the countryside, and she notoriously couldn’t stand social obligations…

Maybe he would.

Chapter Text

One thing you quickly learned when you were accepted on An Ding Peak was that Immortal Master Shang was deserving of Buddhahood. While the miserable wretches he called his disciples toiled and laboured for pitiful results, Shizun effortlessly rose above the suffering caused by endless paperwork and unreasonable demands from the other Cang Qiong Peaks to achieve the impossible and keep everything running smoothly.

Also, he never even tried to use the discipline whip. The beige and brown clothed An Ding disciples had heard more than a few horror tales regarding punishment on the other Peaks – the War God breaking his disciples’ bones and beating them until they were more grounded meat than human beings, the Ling Shu Peak Lord poisoning her apprentices or vivisecting them, even Sect Leader Yue giving the switch to an unruly disciple for mouthing off and leaving the boy with scarred lips. And the less said about the infamously ascetic Ku Xing Peak, the better !

Immortal Master Shang might increase your paperwork allotment and force you to run laps around the Peak until you begged for mercy, but he firmly refused to whip his students – to the hallmasters’ utter bafflement, and said students’ infinite gratitude. Such mercy, such compassion, how could it be not the mark of a true bodhisattva ?

Hei Jun was the one who first proclaimed this, because his father had married a former Buddhist nun and as such, he was more familiar with the intricacies of achieving release from distorted thinking and worldly desires – it also was because of his father’s rather scandalous marriage that Hei Jun had been sent to the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, his paternal grandfather insisting for the first grandchild of his to be born from this union he had never accepted to become a cultivator and redeem his parents’ lustful behaviour.

Hei Jun – tall and thin as a beanpole, in spite of eating twice the usual portions of food – was utterly at peace with his fate, as he couldn’t imagine following into the shoemaking family business and being happy with it. He was much more content when burrowed in the archives and terrifying anyone unlucky enough to upset his organizational system.

Bai Rong wasn’t a Buddhist, her family was far too busy wondering how to avoid starvation to care about religion – and they ultimately sold her as a menial because the upcoming winter was shaping up to be a particularly harsh one, and she was the fifth girl without any prospects on the marriage front for her plainess and her lack of dowry so it was logical to pick her, this way she would be useful for once.

Bai Rong wasn’t angry about her parents selling her. It allowed her to meet Shizun after all – her mother had approched the well-dressed man in the teahouse, asking if he needed a housemaid, Bai Rong had been young and quiet and obedient, she could be trained as her master wanted. Shizun had wanted to see Bai Rong before accepting, and the younger her remembered thinking he was a bit like the squirrels in the wood, with their nervous energy shining in their black eyes and their round, puffy cheeks.

Shizun asked if she could read or write, and she couldn’t but she was very good with numbers, and after asking her to answer several increasingly complicated mathematical problems, the well-dressed man with the round face decided she was good enough, he gave her parents a string of silver coins – silver coins ! Bai Rong had seen only one of these, and it was hidden in the wall as a last resort, her heart had swollen with a strange, dizzying pride to be worth a whole string of silver coins – and he brought her back with him at the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.

Bai Rong had been a proud An Ding Peak disciple since, wearing her beige and brown robes with all the pride of an Imperial official. Her calligraphy was passable, but she had memorized several years worth of laws on financial matters, and no one was better than her for budgeting and haggling, and all of this she owed to Immortal Master Shang, because he looked at a snotty nine-year-old girl with her dirty feet and decided she was smart enough for him to take a gamble and invest a string of silver coins in her future.

So she very much wanted to take care of Shizun – every disciple on An Ding Peak wanted to take care of Shizun, some of them for the same reason as her, some of them out of admiration for the logistician’s intelligence and administrative prowess, some of them out of interested pragmatism because Shang Qinghua having a burnout would force everyone to pick up the slack and it was much more horrifying than a full-blown demon invasion led by a legendary Heavenly Demon against the cultivation world.

Taking care of Shizun meant they ensured his melon seeds reserves would never run out, just like the peppery sweet red tea he drank when he was working late, they replaced the temperature arrays that mysteriously malfunctioned time and again and turned the office and bedroom into snowy and frost-covered wastelands, they discreetly stole his clothes when he wore them ten days in a row and gave them back freshly cleaned and not stinking of sweat anymore.

So when Chen Qingxu – the Ling Shu Peak Lord, she who poisoned her apprentices for not listening in the classroom and couldn’t keep a cauldron unmelted and recently had grown close with the Qing Jing Peak Lord that enjoyed to sneer and throw insults at everyone – had started to visit Shizun, claiming she needed ingredients he alone knew where to find, the An Ding Peak disciples held a war council and seriously pondered how they would ruin a Peak Lord if she was bullying their treasured Immortal Master Shang.

« We cannot stop delivering new tools to their Peak, otherwise Qiong Ding is going to get snippy and accuse us from sabotage » Lu Yang – who had a genuine knack to find supplies and gossip at a very reasonable price, and ensured it was nothing but quality stuff – lamented. « But maybe we can give them the really crappy wares ? »

« Or we can deliver really, really late, and when they start complaining we can tell them the paperwork hasn’t been properly filled or is lost ! » Liu Min – whom Shizun called a whiz with arrays and served as his main assistant for the monthly Peak Lords’ reunion as he kept immaculate transcripts from each session – suggested, making Hei Jun frown.

« If we claim we are losing paperwork, the other Peaks will call us unreliable, did you think of this ? »

An Ding Peak’s reputation already was one of fussy, tedious logisticians – they could live with it, because in spite of complaining and sneering at their perceived weakness, the other Peaks were forced to come at them for the goods they couldn’t produce on their own or for the gold and silver they couldn’t properly budget, and it was so satisfying to see them grovel and politely beg for help. But if they gave the impression their tediousness wasn’t efficient and productive anymore – well, no need to be a career politician to understand how much of a disaster it would be for them.

Ultimately, they concluded it would be more prudent to wait until the Ling Shu Peak Lord gave them a reason to ruin her with her entire Peak. Then the An Ding Peak disciples would pounce, and they would have no mercy whatsoever – Shizun deserved to be protected, the bodhisattva was far too merciful to turn his fearsome administrative and financial prowess against his martial siblings, otherwise they would be wrapped around his little fingers.

People tended to believe their lineage or disposition would grant them power and influence. It certainly helped, but An Ding Peak knew the truth, that the one with the knowledge and the money would come on the top, and they controlled Cang Qiong’s budget.

Let them come, they would be quite surprised by the fight’s results.

Chapter Text

« So your brat is growing up fast. »

Chen Qingxu had been even more disheveled than usual when Shen Qingqiu had finally been able to politely dismiss the pig he regularly trounced at xiangqi and liubo – one Imperial general that fancied himself the Heavens’ greatest gift to womankind, the Qing Jing Peak Lord often imagined how disgusted the lecher would be if he ever gained the opportunity to lift the thick veil covering the kunze’s face – a consequence of entertaining a two-years-old toddler who refused to sit quietly more than a fên and just wouldn’t stop babbling about everything and everyone he could see.

Shen Qingqiu loved his baby, his Yuan’er, so much it scared him, he really did, but he also would be the first to confess he wanted to gag the brat when it was late and he was exhausted from having to play the mysterious and alluring beauty and Yuan’er still talked his ears off.

(and he had been so, so scared the first time he felt this urge, Xiao Jiu remembered the beatings and the starving when the slavers were angry for one reason or another, was he morphing into these hateful scum bastards, would he raise his hand against Yuan’er one day, he would rather die but he was so tired and Yuan’er refused to understand, refused to let him rest because he was a baby and he couldn’t understand how cruel grown-ups could be, how much Xiao Jiu could hurt him because Xiao Jiu had borne him and Yuan’er foolishly trusted him for this and believed it meant Xiao Jiu was safe and would never harm one hair on his head)

(Madam Tang and the flowers are helping and watching but the fear still crawls beneath his skin, waiting for the day he finally will slip up and Xiao Jiu wants to throw up and take a knife to his wrists and his throat, maybe the fear will leave him alone this way, maybe it will be better for Yuan’er to not be raised by someone that can think about harming him)

It likely was worse for Chen Qingxu because she was so socially awkward and couldn’t stand inanities. Alas for her, Yuan’er wasn’t currently able to discuss the finest points of Alchemy or poetry or beast-hunting – but Shen Qingqiu was confident it wouldn’t last beyond his early childhood, he might have been born in the gutter but he now could verbally run circles around the most esteemed figures in the cultivation world and the Imperial Court alike, Yuan’er as his child couldn’t do less than following the path his mother had already walked.

It will happen so soon, parents tended to lament children happily devoured time and cultivators so easily lost time. Shen Qingqiu was going to blink, and his tiny toddler with his puffy cheeks and his wide innocent eyes would turn into a tall young man able to coherently speak and traipse through the countryside.

« Yes he does » the kunze almost sighed, as he carried his baby to their cramped, weirdly comfy bedroom to be tucked.

Gods, he wanted a hot bath, he needed to shrug the beautifully embroidered gown and the hairpins keeping his hair in their elaborate bun and the golden bangles around his wrists off, he needed to slip into his nightgown and cuddle his son while both of them snored the night away.

Chen Qingxu narrowed her eyes as he closed the door and stumbled towards the bathroom.

« Is Shen-shixiong going to bring his child back to Cang Qiong after leaving seclusion ? » she suddenly asked.

He almost tripped – almost fell and barely kept his balance – no – she just didn’t – yet she did, she fucking dared to suggest –

« No ! » he almost shouted, and a small part of his mind marveled because it was barely louder than a whisper, but if he yelled in the Red Warm Pavilion someone would panic and even if he managed to hide it would cause problems for Madam Tang, the woman certainly didn’t deserve the inconvenience after everything she did for Shen Qingqiu.

The Alchemist was looking at him with the kind of annoyed exasperation she usually would reserve for Liu Qingge and the monthly meetings between Peak Lords.

« Why not ? Everyone is already waiting for you to bring a bastard back to your Qing Jing Peak, Qi Qingqi has a betting pool opened by the way, and Zhangmen-shixiong is so utterly lacking in spine he won’t even care about the scandal. »

A scandal. Of course, the lustful, depraved and lewd Shen Qingqiu siring a bastard on some prostitute was expected, of course, it would be a scandal, how could people look at his tiny, perfect Yuan’er without seeing the shameful sin of the Qing Jing Peak Lord ?

His throat burned, and the laugh escaping from his mouth sounded like a maddened sob, like the wail of some wretched creature driven insane from pain and rejection, and he could hear Chen Qingxu hiss in alarm, her smell flaring to drape an inked paper-made blanket around him.

« A scandal » he repeated. « Tell me, Chen-shimei, is there the slightest chance for the oh so righteous Cang Qiong Mountain Sect to not deride this Shen Qingqiu for being nothing but an embarrassment to their esteemed name ? To not despise this child of mine for being a bastard whelp, born from sin and lust ? »

Her breathing hitched, but she refused to answer. He mercilessly continued :

« They hate me, all of them – always spitting on me because I do not care for honour, because I am familiar with half the whores in the Middle Kingdom, because I enjoy being the smartest and the more ruthless one in the room and I won’t be ashamed of this. They hate me and they are waiting for me to stumble and give them the opportunity to bring me low, because Cang Qiong will finally be ridden from its worst eyesore. »

The kunze hiccuped.

« If I bring Yuan’er to Cang Qiong, if I lie about being his sire rather than his mother, if I cover my smell around him… the world will never see him as anything else but the fruit of a scum that should never have been allowed to cultivate. He will never be anything but a mistake . »

This last word, it shredded his tongue as he said it – because wasn’t it the truth, the reason why his precious child was living ? A mistake he made in the forest out of foolish sentimentality, a mistake born out of love, the most beautiful mistake Shen Qingqiu ever commited and one he would repeat again and again and again, as it gave him Yuan’er, this child who looked at him with his sire’s dark eyes in Shen Qingqiu’s miniaturized face.

Yet the cultivation world would deem him a mistake, something to hide away from daylight in shame and to insult for not knowing his place if he wanted a taste from the sun. Nothing but a mistake made by a cultivator so carried by lust he forgot to be careful.

Shen Qingqiu had lived with the cultivation world hating him for so many years, and his heart stubbornly kept beating. Yet it threatened to stop and permanently shatter as he considered the possibility of his child’s eyes losing every hint of love in their depths to be filled with disappointment instead.

(the world has taken and taken and taken from Xiao Jiu, it took his mother and it took Qi-ge and it took his potential and it took any hope for him to be respected by his peers, can’t he keep this one little thing at least, isn’t he even allowed to keep his baby’s love)

Chen Qingxu was looking at him, and she suddenly seemed so young and helpless and stunned and lost for words.

« Ah… Shen-shixiong is that unhappy to be a Cang Qiong Peak Lord, then. »

Wasn’t it obvious ? Shen Qingqiu – Shen Jiu – ought to be proud to be such a masterful actor, he never let anyone get a glimpse of what he genuinely felt and believed until now, until this frumpy woman that wouldn’t leave him. Yet he was so exhausted it filled him entirely, without a place for another feeling.

« I need a bath » he groaned, and he fled into the bathroom.

She let him.

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu had the terrifying suspicion that Chen Qingxu was allowing herself to sleep only when she visited him in the Red Warm Pavilion and stayed for the night – yes, a genuinely great Immortal Master could dispense with sleep but it helped to close one’s eyes occasionally, it prevented descent into madness as one started to consider rather scary thoughts, Shen Qingqiu would know since it was impossible for him to relax enough for sleep on the Qing Jing Peak and it never did wonders for his mood.

Chen Qingxu when properly rested already was a grumpy monster. Chen Qingxu in a maniac state caused by several weeks spent fully awake and chugging oceans of tea to keep the ideas flowing – he had seen this once, and he had no wish to see it again. He still wondered how the Ling Shu Peak could stay whole and not imploding in a shower of gravel and spiritual energy, but some questions would never find answers, thank fuck for sanity’s sake.

The Alchemist had the terrible bed manner of one unused to share a mattress, she snored and drooled and chewed on her braid and Shen Qingqiu’s hair, her toes were cold as the Northern Demon Mountains and she wouldn’t stop wriggling, the Qing Jing Peak Lord sometimes considered pushing her on the ground and letting her there.

He never did. For all her flaws, she was – reassuring, and the nightmares never came when he closed his eyes breathing the smell of mulberry paper and camellia-oil ink, and it was rather funny to look at her dismayed face when she woke up and found Yuan’er cuddling her.

This evening, she was frowning as she laid herself besides Shen Qingqiu, Yuan’er conked out between them. Alright, she was frowning a lot, but this frown was slightly more accented, and a tint of acidity was spoiling the ink in her smell – she was bothered.

« If worries were bees, Xiao Mao would have a swarm buzzing between her ears » Shen Qingqiu mildly commented.

She turned on her side in order to eyeball him over the toddler’s head. He arched his eyebrow.

« There is something wrong with Shang Qinghua » she finally confessed.

Shen Qingqiu snorted with all the derision he could muster – since he was an expert on looking down on everyone he had ever met, it wasn’t a measly thing.

« Chen-shimei is barking the wrong tree. She ought to ask, what is not wrong with the rat ? »

The Qing Jing Peak Lord had no real hatred towards the logistician – An Ding Peak flourished under his care, his work ethic was immaculate and he was so quiet and meek it became rather boring to bully him. Yet there was no denying Shang Qinghua made his gums ache with annoyance, because the man just wouldn’t stop having nervous breakdowns and grovelling when someone rose their voice the tiniest bit in his surroundings. Seriously, where was his pride as a cultivator and a Peak Lord ? He was so pathetic it verged on disgusting, Shen Qingqiu had glimpsed Liu Qingge sneering at the An Ding Peak Lord’s back after a particularly bad display of spinelessness and for once he had fully empathized with the brute’s feelings.

« Rats are quite useful when this one needs living research subjects for her poison testing, actually » Chen Qingxu carelessly mused. « One of my students raise the little pests, they breed like crazy so there is enough for my Peak and Qian Cao. Mu-shidi is overjoyed, this way his brats can practise surgery and I doesn’t have Zhangmen-shixiong breathing down my neck for unethical experimentation over humans. »

Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes in the dark. He would concede rats could be useful when you were a starving street urchin and desperate for some food in your belly, but he remembered far too well the heaps of trash he and Qi-ge had inspected only for rodents to steal the coveted prize from their hands or outright attempting to devour them.

In a way, rats were much of a threat than dogs. Dogs would make their presence known, rats would stay hidden in the shadows. Guess who was likelier to ruin your day when you weren’t careful enough ?

« We were talking about Shang Qinghua, not his family » he reminded her.

« Right » she sighed. « Did Shen-shixiong know he enjoys writing ? »

« He writes all the time, for the records on his Peak. »

« Writing as novels, a-Jiu. And he has a lot of ideas, mainly silliness but it could work if the reader is not looking for deep philosophical poetry and just wants a nice shichen spent with inane drivel. »

Shen Qingqiu could see what kind of novel his shimei was describing, and it was the kind he would pick when he wished for his brain to stop working. Not genuinely exceptional, but you wouldn’t throw it in the latrines out of sheer disgust either.

« And ? Did Shang Qinghua ask Xiao Mao to look upon his work and correct some mistakes ? » he wondered – what a disappointment for the An Ding Peak Lord if he even tried, Chen Qingxu reacted to anything fictional as if she had been forced to read the most shameless, obscene yellow literature ever, stubbornly bent on manuals as the only books she would accept to open for pleasure.

The Alchemist’s frown threatened to carve lines in her face, so far spared from the ravages of time by her refusal to emote no matter what.

« He refuses to let himself write. He wants it so badly , Shen-shixiong, this one could see his gaze light up when we talked about the matter, only for him to suddenly clam up and deny himself the pleasure. Why would he even do that  ? »

Her smell was rancid with worry and sheer bafflement, of course Chen Qingxu wouldn’t understand such behaviour. She lived and breathed Alchemy, she relished in her passion, and her ability to empathize was deeply limited. Of course she would believe anyone would jump on the opportunity to do whatever they wanted, anything that would bring them enjoyment.

To be honest, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t bring himself to care about Shang Qinghua’s torment. It was the evening, he was tired, he felt no great love for the An Ding Peak Lord and life in the streets and the Qiu Manor had taught him he needed to focus on his own problems because no one but himself would fix them, so why would he want to fix other people’s ?

« Xiao Mao is getting soft » he claimed. « Soon she will be wandering the countryside to rescue donkeys that fell in ditches and distributing alms to the poor like a virtuous maiden. »

The resulting sneer on the Alchemist’s face was utterly beautiful, one would believe Shen Qingqiu had threatened her with her hands being cut and her eyes gouged for being too mouthy. He would have to draw this, it would help him laugh when he needed to cheer himself.

« Is a-Jiu done with insulting me » she asked, « because I would like to start dreaming how I am going to murder him. »

« Good luck to you on this front, I have survived so much worse than a bad-tempered kitten » Shen Qingqiu mocked.

Yuan’er quietly grumbled as he scrunched his nose and sneezed – then again, and again. The Qing Jing Peak Lord counted half a dozen sneezes in total.

« And he’s not waking up » Chen Qingxu commented with mild interest. « Truly, my shixiong’s brat is fated to become one of the great names, with such miraculous omens. »

« Yes he will » Shen Qingqiu decreed.

No matter his chosen path, Yuan’er would be great.

Chapter Text

As Yuan’er grew up and fast approached his third birthday, Shen Qingqiu needed to prepare his return from seclusion to Cang Qiong Mountain. First of all, he needed an alibi about the place he buried himself in order to heal his unstable foundation, because he was pretty sure Yue Qingyuan had tried seeking for him in spite of his explicit wish to be left alone and Chen Qingxu not so politely telling him to fuck off – the asshole never came when Shen Jiu had needed him, and now was the most smothering mother hen possible when the Qing Jing Peak Lord didn’t want for him to do so, it was impossible to win against this infuriating qianyuan.

Fortunately, Shen Qingqiu had the perfect solution and that was to pointedly remind the Sect Leader from his failure to present his pitiful face to the Qiu Manor after becoming a disciple of Cang Qiong – Yue Qingyuan would immediately drop the matter to brood and try to bribe Shen Qingqiu into forgiving him his failures with more or less useful and pleasant gifts.

(Xiao Jiu hates his Qi-ge’s pain and he wishes so much he could avoid piling more and more upon his former friend and brother and protector and so much more than all this but he doesn’t have a choice if he wants to stave inquiries that might cause the ruin of the happy future he’s planning for himself and Yuan’er)

(a future in which Qi-ge will have no place at all)

The other Peak Lords might suspect Shen Qingqiu from having indulged his shameful passions, but the idea of an esteemed Immortal Master crossdressing and going undercover in a brothel as their highest-priced courtesan likely won’t even be a possibility in their narrow minds. Shen Qingqiu briefly imagined Liu Qingge’s reaction if he learned the truth, the brute would have a qi deviation on the spot or would die from spitting so much blood, it was almost enough to tempt the kunze into sincerity.

Because a man would never lower himself to live as a woman – worse, a soiled one, in spite of the Veiled Beauty never having let anyone paying for her evening touch her, operating within the Red Warm Pavilion was enough to be labelled loose – for a day, nay, for a shichen , so even the infamously depraved Qing Jing Peak Lord wouldn’t dare !

About the Veiled Beauty, Shen Qingqiu would have to drastically cut down on his courtesan person’s appearances. Being a Peak Lord was rather time consuming, after all, and he also needed to think of Yuan’er and raise his baby as normally as he could for a whore’s get. Fortunately, Madam Tang was more than happy to participate to this scheme – the more a courtesan was impossible to attain, the more she would be coveted and sought after, men thirsted for what they couldn’t have and the Veiled Beauty retreating from the social scene would make the price for playing a game with her or listening her music even more prohibitive.

Since money was on the line, Madam Tang really wanted for this scheme to come to fruition. But of course, Shen Qingqiu had to don his courtesan persona at least twice in the year, or the customers would forget him, or start believing he had been redeemed by a suitor wealthy enough to buy his freedom and that wouldn’t do at all.

Shen Qingqiu was indifferent at the prospect to not being a courtesan anymore, he certainly was looking forwards the day pigs wouldn’t drool at his sight and wonder what he looked like under his veil and elaborate gowns, but he owed Madam Tang and her flowers for granting him a hideout and accepting to care for Yuan’er when he couldn’t. The least he could do was to leave them richer than when he stumbled poisoned and pregnant in their brothel.

He – would miss their constant warmth after going back to his Peak. He would miss not having to wear a mask over the truth of him – rather ironically, this was in the brothel he wore clothes unsuited to his male gender and had an occupation that wasn’t his primary one yet it felt more genuine than his life as the Xiu Ya sword.

Also, he would miss the fact he didn’t have to hide his smell – this damned peaches perfume, proof of his inhuman lineage, was very effective to rile up the sex drive and hunger when the target was gifted with more spiritual power than a moldy nut, but on mundane humans it was nothing but a very enticing smell so if anyone tried to rape him they couldn’t claim his scent drove them mad. Alright, they would still claim it – pigs had no shame when they explained why their victim deserved to be violently defiled – but it wouldn’t be that much of a solid argument.

Scent masking it was. Fortunately, he had refined his method – bathing as much as possible in order to remove sweat produced by the glands in his neck, his wrists and his groin, then applying perfume from the thick variety, the kind that lingered more than half a day. Of course, he would sweat again as time went by and he was fulfilling his duties, but he could still reapply a few drops of perfume in the collar and the sleeves of his robes to further hide his true nature.

That was how he managed to survive all these years as a disciple then a Peak Lord in the Tian Gong Twelve Peaks in spite of being a kunze and a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast, and he saw no reason to deviate from it.

Chen Qingxu had been intrigued as he explained her how to effectively hide one’s true disposition and immediately pestered him to learn where he bought his perfume, a rather innocuous zhongyong smell that slightly reeked of dewy bamboo and grass, if Shen Qingqiu had to pass for a zhongyong Peak Lord then he would pick the right scent for his esteemed position.

« This shixiong is perfectly happy with the perfume he wears » Shen Qingqiu had declared, because he could see she already planned to lock herself in her lab and cook her own recipe for masking her natural smell.

« Yes, yes » the Alchemist snorted, « but wouldn’t it be interesting if it was possible to reduce the dissonance our martial siblings feel around Shen-shixiong ? If the perfume could adapt to your moods, oh that would be so good, no one would even suspect you from wanting to hide yourself because, begging for a-Jiu’s forgiveness, when people actually take a good sniff in your vicinity, they cannot help thinking it’s quite weird for Shen-shixiong to smell so colourless and flat. »

« Chen-shimei is overestimating people » he stated. « Most of the time, they won’t notice something wrong because they don’t care about seeing further than their own navel, or they will notice but are so paralyzed by good manners they won’t dare to point a flaw in the picture, moreso if they know the painter will skewer them for a reason or another. »

Shen Qingqiu was speaking from experience, he actually breathed fire at anyone wanting to play the critic to his scholar and using that as their excuse to denigrate his work as ugly and good only to serve as kindling and toilet paper.

The Ling Shu Peak Lord wasn’t impressed by the argument.

« This one did notice, and three people will keep a secret if two are dead » she casually reminded him. « One day, Shen-shixiong won’t be able to keep his secret safely buried among the shadows, so he would do well to prepare an escape road for himself. »

Shen Qingqiu said nothing. He was already doing this, and he would have to tell Chen Qingxu because she could and would help him to permanently run away and disappear, yet…

Yet he wasn’t ready. He still needed a little bit more time.

Just a little more.

Chapter Text

As Shen Yuan grew older and closer from three years, he couldn’t help feeling anxious. Yes, it was sweet to finally have the dexterity to dress himself – even if the nannies just wouldn’t stop inflicting cute little dresses and skirts upon him, frankly he started to believe they weren’t prepared to handle living with a male day-to-day – and to speak in complete sentences in such a high-pitched voice he would die from shame if his meimei heard him, yet at the same time he couldn’t help being anxious.

He strongly suspected a-Niang was about to leave the brothel. It occasionally happened, when some wealthy official or nobleman well and truly fell for a prostitute to the point he couldn’t stand the idea of her bestowing her favour on another dude anymore and would buy her to be locked away in his mansion as a concubine or lesser wife, because it wasn’t proper to name a whore your primary spouse.

The whore herself, well, who cared about her feelings ? And many of these women fretted too much about dying destitute and hungry after losing their beauty to venereal diseases and old age, so they would leap on the opportunity to leave the brothel at the arm of someone that would give them shelter and food.

Shen Yuan intellectually had known this fact, when he still was a spoiled young master in his ivory tower, but he now had been reborn as a whore’s get and it made him absolutely nauseous, especially since he dreaded it might soon apply to his mother in this life.

He knew a-Niang was popular, with all these wealthy-looking men sending him presents and letters and constantly begging for an evening spent with the legendary Veiled Beauty – Shen Yuan wanted to spit blood every time he heard this title, it sounded so narmy and exactly the kind of title you would find in a stallion novel trying too hard, looking at you Proud Immortal Demon Way – one of them likely would decide one day to make an offer for the kunze and wouldn’t accept no for an answer.

Shen Yuan cared for the Madam as much as he cared for his grandmothers in his former life, but he wasn’t blind to the fact she was dealing in human flesh and needed to keep her business afloat – if she was forced to pick between a mountain in gold and a prostitute, she would gladly kick the courtesan in the streets. His father in his first life had managed his business ruthlessly in spite of lacking cruelty, and Shen Yuan had heard enough from him and da-ge to be aware of what an effective manager would do.

If a-Niang was sold, he likely wouldn’t be allowed to bring Shen Yuan with him in his buyer’s demesne. People tended to be prickly on the matter of raising children they weren’t biologically related to, and it was even worse in the Middle Ages and the Antiquity, why did you think so many stepmothers were wicked ? Children from a previous marriage were competition for resources and affection, of course the stepmother wanted to secure her own kids’ inheritance instead of a dead woman’s. Ancient noblemen were proud and haughty, they might forgive a-Niang his stint as a prostitute for being beautiful and young enough to bear their heirs, but they would look at Shen Yuan and would see a brat that would steal his mother’s attention away when a-Niang ought to focus on his buyer as a good little wife.

They would take a-Niang, and Shen Yuan would never see his second mother again. He would be left alone.

Alright, he would have the nannies and the Madam, if they decided they still wanted him around instead of throwing him in the gutter for being too small and unable to work in the brothel, but for all their doting and care, the women calling the Red Warm Pavilion home weren’t a-Niang who cradled him in bed and sang sad songs as lullabies and looked so insecure and shy sometimes but always lighted up when Shen Yuan smiled at him, who was going to take care of a-Niang when he would have a fit of melancholy in his buyer’s house ?

What if Shen Yuan forgot a-Niang’s face ? His former families’ faces – baba and mama and da-ge and er-ge and meimei – already blurred a bit in his memories, did meimei have brown in her black eyes, was er-ge’s hair really that untidy, was baba’s forehead and eyes wrinkled a lot ? Would he utterly lose the ability to remember how they looked like until they were person-shaped blanks, as he desperately tried to retain the vaguest details about their character and likes ?

Shen Yuan already lost his first family – his first life – his entire world, he couldn’t lose his mother too. His heart threatened to tear itself apart, just like it did when he still was living in modern China, and this time the greatest surgeon would be powerless to fix the problem.

That wasn’t fair. All these officials and noblemen could buy any courtesan they wanted, why would they pick a-Niang when Shen Yuan needed him in a way that far surpassed their lust for sexual relationships ? Get over yourselves, you bunch of pigs ! There was other people living in this world beyond you, people more deserving of help and pity you ever will be !

Shen Yuan thought he could understand better the angry twist in his mother’s lips when he donned his veil before going to entertain a paying customer. Truly, these people were lower than trash – at least trash wouldn’t try to mask how much it stunk.

But he couldn’t do anything. He was only a kid, and he hated it so much – it was just like being sick, waiting for the bad news to come, aware he would be reduced to softly cry in his pillow at night because his fucking body wouldn’t let him be strong, because people didn’t care about listening babies and invalids, he was good for nothing, he had always been good for nothing.

It hurt, as he grew older and closer from his third birthday, and he could see a-Niang becoming more and more preoccupated, he had heard him discussing with Auntie Mao and the Madam about Shen Yuan’s care, he was looking at the nannies with the fond expression of someone that wouldn’t visit for a while, he was about to leave, a-Niang was about to leave…

It hurt so much, Shen Yuan was stinking of rotten fruit. Because he was living in an omegaverse, and the locals were communicating through pheromones and smells, and he was a little kid so his control over his own glands was null – leaving everyone to sniff he really, really felt miserable and fuss over him as if they could actually help. Of course they couldn’t, and it caused the nannies and a-Niang stress, and everyone was unhappy.

And Shen Yuan couldn’t explain why he was upset, because he currently was an almost-three-years-old toddler and wasn’t supposed to understand what happened in a brothel and why prostitutes would disappear from the establishment – they would freak and maybe they would call for an exorcist to intervene, and what would think a-Niang if he suspected Shen Yuan from having replaced the baby he was supposed to have, wasn’t that a bit true actually, the kunze would be crushed to learn this and Shen Yuan couldn’t let this happen.

His mother in this second life already wasn’t very happy, he refused to add further baggage on this pile – he was spoiled and insensitive but he hadn’t been raised to be blatantly and willingly cruel. The mere idea of ruining someone else’s life was enough to twist his gut, and it was for a complete stranger, so his own mother…

Yet he couldn’t watch over a-Niang if they were separated.

Chapter Text

Since his baby first breathed and opened his dark, dark eyes, Shen Qingqiu had known Yuan’er would be an extraordinary child. No, he wasn’t letting his maternal pride talk louder than his intelligence, it was pure and utter fact – Yuan’er was slightly too attentive, slighty too quick on the uptake, the flowers would marvel at the fact he had mastered walking and coherent talking with nothing but determination carved on his chubby little face.

Shen Qingqiu loathed himself, his hands were far too dirty and his mind far too twisted for him to ever learn to tolerate the man he became, but if his baby truly had to inherit something from the wretched being who whelped him, then he certainly could have picked worse than his fucking stubborness that kept him alive in spite of the slavers and Qiu Jianluo and Wu Yanzi and the other Cang Qiong Peak Lords. Stubborness allowed a street urchin to ascend as one of the great names in the cultivation world, and that was an achievement everyone would relish to have.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord really should have remembered, understanding of one’s surroundings could be a curse. For in much wisdom is much grief, such were the words his Shizun heard from a dark-skinned man who had traveled from beyond the Western Mountains, originating from a harsh country in which sun would burn high in the sky and turn green to sand and dust. To know the truth of things was to know how powerless one was to fix them.

Yuan’er didn’t know Shen Qingqiu would soon leave the Red Warm Pavilion to become the Qing Jing Peak Lord from the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect once again, the kunze carefully avoided discussing the matter in front of his baby, yet he had the dreaded suspicion that the toddler was aware of the upcoming separation. Why would he so upset otherwise, to the point nothing could dry his tears and turn his rotting flowery scent back to its usual sweetness ?

It was awful enough to make Shen Qingqiu reconsider his plan to leave his baby behind, safe with Madam Tang and her flowers – maybe Chen Qingxu had been right after all, maybe Shen Qingqiu could bring his child to Qing Jing and raise him peacefully in spite of the venomous whispers and finger-pointing that would drag his name deeper into the mud…

But no, he couldn’t. It wasn’t about taking the easier road to tread, it was about following the safest path until home was finally in reach. Yuan’er couldn’t be safe so long his existence was a public matter – and it would become a public matter if Cang Qiong learned of him, as Shen Qingqiu’s offspring or a kunze or a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast. He wouldn’t be able to find shelter in the shadows if he was dragged into the blinding light of summer.

Shen Qingqiu needed to leave, it was the only option still opened to him that would allow a peaceful future for him and Yuan’er. He could deal with the feeling that his own heart was breaking apart, he could survive this even if it was so much worse than his mother suddenly disappearing, Yue Qi abandoning him for his self-interest. Yuan’er could survive their upcoming separation no matter how much it currently upset him, Shen Qingqiu wasn’t able to protect him from the world and all its ugly suffering in spite of his desperate wish, it was a lesson always learned too soon, one needed to not be so reliant on a single person.

(there is a small ugly and stunted part within Xiao Jiu which cannot help but weep in gratitude, someone doesn’t want for him to leave, someone is unhappy because they won’t get to see each other for a while and that means he’s loved, he’s worthy of love after all)

Also, he wondered how long Yuan’er would beg for his return before outright forgetting he had a mother to begin with. He was an extraordinary child but he nonetheless was a child, and toddlers weren’t famed for their ability to stay focused on something more than a shichen. It was the way of life, memories blurred together and faded with time when one couldn’t or wouldn’t bother with reinforcing them with cultivation – a little cheat rather common on Qing Jing Peak for retaining literary and musical knowledge, it helped with the exams but one had to be aware the technique was real, Shen Jiu learned it after eavesdropping on a senior disciple and stealing his notes, leading to the senior failing to master the knowledge absorption and leaving the Peak to become a low-level official in his native town, Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t apologize for it since the young man had been boorish and interested in becoming a scholar merely for the bragging rights.

Shen Qingqiu didn’t know when he would manage to escape his duties at Cang Qiong, especially with Yue Qingyuan eager to trap him here out of misplaced overprotectiveness and paranoia, but it likely would take several weeks, maybe it would take several months. Long enough for Yuan’er to stop grieving – maybe long enough for Yuan’er to look at the immortal master in his green and white silks and cry in fear of the stranger.

This image was almost worse than the nightmare in which his baby heard every single awful thing he was accused of and started believing them. It was enough for Shen Qingqiu’s throat to burn with a wail he wouldn’t release, for his eyes to burn with tears he wouldn’t shed.

(Xiao Jiu has heard of whores and families too poor to feed themselves selling their brats in the hopes they will get adopted or at least raised by someone able to care for them much better than their flesh and blood, now he’s a parent himself and he wonders how these mothers can possibly cope with the knowledge their kids are going to forget the perfume of their skin and how soft it is when they hugged)

Since he was born in this world, Shen Qingqiu had trained in hiding when he felt genuine hurt because it would be used against him. Now it was useful because showing weakness in front of Yuan’er would only worsen his baby’s distress – a mother was supposed to comfort you, not break down and crumble out of stress.

He only let his guard down when he was singing his baby to sleep – and he was doing it a lot, because he couldn’t remember if his own mother had thin lips or a big nose, but he still could remember her voice as she repeated warnings and rules of survival time and again.

Remember me, now I have to say goodbye, remember me…

Shen Qingqiu wasn’t musically gifted, he could play a tune and play it well on his guqin but his Shizun always grimaced as if he just had swallowed a sour lemon and pointed he would turn the happiest aria into a funeral dirge.

Music was intended to open a window showing the true heart of the musician. What did it say about Shen Qingqiu, for him to ruin and twist everything into causing tears ?

For even I’m far away, I hold you in my heart, I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart…

Yue Qingyuan was the one who enjoyed singing, it was most apparent when he drank a cup too much. Unfortunately, alcohol completely ruined his ability to hold a note right, and the final result sounded like a grumpy tomcat yowling on a roof when it was the night and the whole neighbourhood wanted to sleep.

Know that I’m with you the only way that I can be…

Would Yuan’er be a good singer, when he would grow up ? Talking, he could do that, he babbled so much his nannies begged for mercy after a quarter of a shichen spent watching him. Would he be fluent in that other langage in which words sounded more like emotions ?

Until you’re in my arms again… remember… me…

Shen Qingqiu just didn’t know.

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu waited a week and a half right after celebrating his beloved child’s third birthday for his departure in the dark of night. He refused to traumatize Yuan’er by the association of an event supposed to be joyful with the loss of his only parental figure.

He and the flowers had done their best for Yuan’er to keep nothing but good memories from this wet autumn day, with indoor games and singing and all the kisses and cuddles a toddler could ask for. Even Chen Qingxu had jumped on the carriage after Shen Qingqiu bluntly explained her how the little celebration would go, bringing some of her weirdest potions that made the drinker spit bubbles or turned the skin pink with yellow spots.

This day, she had brought a package for Shen Qingqiu alongside a gift for Yuan’er, one of the elegant robes he donned when he was teaching or attending meetings and conferences as the Qing Jing Peak Lord. She also had slipped a haircrown and a fan to complete the look.

« Chen-shimei » the kunze had cooed in a distinctly bloodthirsty tone, « have you broken into my house and ruffled through my wardrobe ?! »

The unrepentant Alchemist had sniffed.

« Shen-shixiong ought to ask Shang Qinghua to update his wards if he doesn’t want for anyone he didn’t grant free passage to enter inside his demesne. And truly, this didn’t feel like a home at all, I could barely smell your false perfume in the rooms and nothing of your true scent. »

And wasn’t that a cold and harsh truth ? Shen Qingqiu never actually considered the bamboo house as a safe den in which he could let his smell run free, not with the other Peak Lords and the hallmasters and disciples that wouldn’t stop visiting for some reason or another. It wasn’t safe at all, but after a childhood sleeping in the streets he would grit his teeth and endure because at least it was four walls and a roof to protect him from the wind and the rain and a bed to sleep. Anything beyond these simple comforts would be a luxury he couldn’t very well afford.

(a luxury he found in a cramped bedroom from the Red Warm Pavilion with its walls reeking of his and his baby’s true smells, a bedroom in which none would enter without knocking and asking if they were allowed)

« That wasn’t necessary » he had groused. « This master would have came back to Cang Qiong with the robes in which he left the mountain – or was Chen-shimei maybe operating under the false memories of him helping her to cull newts without a shred of cloth on his skin ? »

« Then where are these robes ? »

To this, he had no answer to give since he genuinely couldn’t remember. Chen Qingxu had undressed him for the birth to proceed unimpeded, then he lazed a whole month in a nightgown as he was recovering from the premature labour, then the courtesans had put him in a red gown for his baby’s one-month celebration and discovered they had a taste for treating the male kunze as a life-sized doll, and his robes… just got lost.

The flowers genuinely didn’t know either, and Chen Qingxu had stunk of smug satisfaction as he was forced to concede the verbal spar to the Mistress Alchemist, but it wouldn’t be the last of it. Next time, he would avenge his wounded pride and honour.

In the meantime… he would have to slip back into the haughty, aloof Immortal Master’s costume – and yes, he was deliberately using the word costume , after three years wearing delicate gowns and skirts and veils, the tight collars and heavy belts and the expertly embroidered overcoat felt grating against his sensitive skin that got used to the whisper of silk and cotton.

(it felt like chains from the kind Xiao Jiu sometimes was bound with when Qiu Jianluo or Wu Yanzi wanted to teach him a lesson)

Yuan’er was soundly sleeping in the bed, busy drooling over his plushy fox, carefully swaddled in the blankets. Shen Qingqiu briefly thought about waking him up, saying goodbye, anything better than leaving in the night like some coward because he couldn’t stand the tears and screams or worse their absence as Yuan’er was entrusted to the Red Warm Pavilion while his mother went back to shoulder a mantle that already made his back howl in protest and discomfort…

But Shen Qingqiu already wore his cultivator clothes, and Yuan’er would be so scared if he opened his eyes to see the cold and imposing figure leaning over the bed. Shen Qingqiu knew what he looked like when he donned the flawless porcelain mask of an Immortal Master, and it was so far from being reassuring it would have been a bad joke if less serious.

Yuan’er would be so scared if he got a sniff of this flat, lifeless dewy bamboo perfume Shen Qingqiu had lathered on his neck and wrists, unable to identify his mother under the false scent after growing up bathed in the golden smell of ripe peaches.

It burned in the kunze’s throat and eyes, a wet burn that wanted to spill outside its flesh confines and splatter everywhere, but he firmly kept it leashed and muzzled, a dog bound to a wall instead of running amok in the courtyard and disturbing the whole neighbourhood. Soon, he would be surrounded by fellow Peak Lords that would immediately pounce on the slightest sign of weakness – his mask needed to be cold and flawless as porcelain.

(Shen Jiu refuses to think of someone with freckles and a stained apron having his back, he cannot drag her further in this mess of his own, he cannot keep asking more and more from her because one day she will finally reach her limit just like Qi-ge reached his)

When he left the room, he walked with the unhurried, confident stride of the Qing Jing Peak Lord, his boots barely making noise on the carpets and the floors.

Madam Tang was waiting in her office. A brothel’s madam would keep an irregular schedule, prostitution mainly was a nighttime job after all, but the woman reliably wouldn’t sleep until the fourth nightly watch, only to rise at midmorning.

She blinked tired eyes at him when he entered.

« Madam Tang » he greeted her. « Truly, it was a delight and my honour to be hosted by you, but this lowly one unfortunately is recalled by his duties. May he nonetheless ask for his child to be cared for until his return ? »

« Oh, a-Jiu » the madam sighed, her bracelets carved from bone softly chiming at her wrist. « Why would you even think one of my flowers need to ask for the Red Warm Pavilion to take care of its people ? »

The kunze snorted. He wasn’t one of her girls, no matter what pigs would claim about the Veiled Beauty and no matter how much gold and silver and fame Madam Tang had gained from hosting such a prestigious courtesan.

(Xiao Jiu was threatened time and again by the slavers, they would sell him to a brothel if he couldn’t pull his weight anymore or if he was too mouthy, but he started to wonder if it would have been so bad after all when he stumbled on the Red Warm Pavilion, when he met Madam Tang who always had a room for him with tea and sweets and someone to listen no matter how late or early, sometimes he pondered how it would be to live in the brothel with all these silly and bright and smiling girls with their hardfisted madam who cared for her flowers as only a gardener that tended each blossom could)

Shen Qingqiu wasn’t the Veiled Beauty from the Red Warm Pavilion. It was time for him to remember that.

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu made his arrival on Qiong Ding Peak in the midmorning : early enough for the Sect Leader to not be fully engrossed in his work, but not so early that he still would be dressing himself and absentmindedly grazing on his breakfast. Yue Qingyuan tended to rise before everyone else, legacy of a childhood spent in the streets since anyone late for chores won’t get to eat at all, and he went to bed fairly late, apparently under the belief that filling paperwork until midnight was relaxing.

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t really throw shade at the qianyuan for that ridiculous habit, since paperwork filling was much more socially acceptable than visiting courtesans because you would stay up all night otherwise. Truly, Yue Qingyuan managed to be a paragon of cultivator in spite of the obstacles piled on his way, be it his birth or his disposition or his wretched fondness towards a gutter urchin whom he wouldn’t discard.

Qiong Ding in the morning was beautiful – in a more stately, regal way than Qing Jing was, but Qiong Ding Peak had been raising leaders and politicians instead of scholars and artists so it was to be expected. However, passing by the ponds in which ornamental fishes were slowly circling made Shen Qingqiu remember all of Chen Qingxu’s complains about not being allowed to taste these beautiful golden and red and black carps, and he quickly unfurled his fan in order to hide a smile.

Cold and flawless, just like porcelain would be, that was what he needed to be when he would present himself to the Sect Leader after three years of dereliction to his duty. Yue Qingyuan was unfortunately sticky and stubborn when he thought something was wrong with the Qing Jing Peak Lord, worse than a mangy dog with a bone, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t let slip any hint of weakness.

(couldn’t let show another door to his heart because Yuan’er is his heart now, Shen Jiu believed he had no love nor loyalty to give after meeting Qi-ge and carving his soul for the older boy yet there he stands hopelessly praying for his baby to be cared and loved and kept safe in his absence)

Yue Qingyuan’s Head Disciple spluttered when he realized that yes, it was Shen Qingqiu right there, immediately leading the Qing Jing Peak Lord to a waiting room and tripping on his robes as he ran to warn his shifu about the unexpected meeting. How disgusting to be that lacking in poise and self-control, especially for one training to be a commander of men, Shen Qingqiu would have kicked the trash from his Peak for failing to meet the standards, but if Zhangmen-shixiong wanted to ruin his students then it was his problem and none could intervene.

Yue Qinyuan burst into the room with wild eyes, his haircrown lopsided and stinking of confusion and longing. Then he looked at Shen Qingqiu sneering at him and beamed .

« Xiao Jiu ! »

«  Don’t call me that ! » the Qing Jing Peak Lord snapped as his Sect Leader tried to trap him in a feverishly hot embrace, reeking of happiness and if he had been a dog his tail would be wagging like crazy and he would slobber all over Shen Qingqiu’s face and robes.

So fucking ridiculous, Yue Qingyuan wasn’t a street brat anymore, couldn’t he show himself more dignified than this shameful display ?

(Xiao Jiu wants to laugh and he wants to sob and his heart is breaking the tiniest bit, he misses Qi-ge so much and the other man is so close yet there is so much distance between them)

The Sect Leader’s eyes were glinting with a suspicious wetness as they roamed all over Shen Qingqiu’s figure, drinking every single detail, and the Qing Jing Peak Lord almost shivered as he wondered if the qianyuan would remember these robes weren’t the ones he was wearing when he left for the fateful newt-culling mission, would he make trouble for Chen Qingxu if he suspected her from helping the kunze behind the scenes ? Fortunately, Yue Qingyuan’s wits leaked through his ear every time Shen Qingqiu was in the same room than the older man.

« Qingqiu-shidi » Zhangmen-shixiong finally said in a firm voice, even if he still was stinking of happiness and relief. « You have been deeply missed in Cang Qiong. »

The scholar haughtily sniffed, slipping back within the aloof and proud persona he usually donned when he was forced to interact with his so-called martial siblings.

« As if. This master knows what the other Peak Lords think of him, Zhangmen-shixiong has no need to lie about the matter in a foolish bid to preserve harmony since there is none to begin with. »

The dumbass wilted in front of Shen Qingqiu’s eyes, truly a dog that couldn’t understand why it was mercilessly kicked when all it wanted was pets and sweet words. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t stand dogs, they were so dependent.

« Now, this master would like to be informed of what happened on his Qing Jing Peak while he wasn’t there. Who is he supposed to skin alive, if his students have not been taught as they needed to be ? »

« Qingqiu-shidi shouldn’t threaten to skin his hallmasters » the Sect Leader chided him. « He would cover his robes with so much blood, and this Qingyuan isn’t blind to his loathing for uncleanliness. »

Shen Qingqiu’s fan snapped shut as he internally conceded the point. Nonetheless.

« If one is reluctant to get a bit messy, one will never achieve something worthwhile » he fired back. « And I am still waiting for Zhangmen-shixiong to give me an answer. »

Yue Qingyuan finally understood the discussion wouldn’t be allowed to deviate from work topics, and folded as the coward he was. Still, his dark gaze was attentive as he related how Qing Jing Peak had been managed, obviously waiting for Shen Qingqiu to twitch at some point or another, something that would point at him already knowing and would hint at someone telling the returning Peak Lord in advance.

Joke was on him, Shen Qingqiu had perfected his flawless mask even if it wasn’t reaching the same level of sheer blandness as Yue Qingyuan’s perpetual smile. And Chen Qingxu had been unable to tell him a lot anyway, she couldn’t care less about how the Peaks beyond hers were running and she had been more focused on grousing because everyone refused to let her alone on the grounds she was the last person that had interacted with Shen Qingqiu before he went in seclusion .

And of course Yue Qingyuan was slyly suggesting for the Qing Jing Peak Lord to visit Qian Cao, Mu-shidi likely was still awake in spite of the early hour and leaving seclusion never was mundane, especially when it was prompted by a creature poisoning you.

« Have you so little faith in your shimei, for you to not trust in her word that everything was fine with this master ? » Shen Qingqiu sneered.

Yue Qingyuan was politely smiling but his gaze was dark and cold as the North Sea in winter.

« Chen Qingxu is quite insistent on her being qualified to be an Alchemist rather than a fully-fledged physician. Extremely vocal on the matter, actually. »

Fuck, he wasn’t wrong. And Shen Qingqiu couldn’t expect help from this side, the frumpy zhongyong woman had told him she would drop his care on Mu Qingfang when he would come back at Cang Qiong.

He fanned himself to give himself time to think. The Sect Leader was still watching him, waiting for him to step into the trap.

« This master shall tend to his Peak first » he declared. « Then he will ask for Mu-shidi to take a look at him. »

There, it should be alright. Shen Qingqiu had no intention whatsoever to visit Qian Cao – to give the physician an opportunity to learn his secrets ( a kunze and a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast and a womb that bore a living child ) – but he had no qualms letting people believe he would.

Yue Qingyuan frowned.

« Qingqiu-shidi is praiseworthy in his dedication to his duties, but he has a duty of care towards himself... »

Don’t I know it , the Qing Jing Peak Lord mentally snarled, because if I don’t take care of myself no one will.

(but there is a flat voice and a freckled face and messy braids niggling the back of his mind, she came back when nothing and none were compelling her didn’t she)

« If there is nothing left to say, this master will take his leave » he said instead, and he turned away to walk outside as quick as he could without openly running.

« Xiao Jiu ! »

A snarl escaped from his throat, and he jumped on his sword immediately after passing the threshold.

Well, for a reunion with Yue Qingyuan, it went exactly as good as he expected for it to be.

Chapter Text

Qing Jing Peak was as it always had been : cold and green and his. A prison in which he slowly suffocated it might have been, but it was his prison and he was familiar with every nook and cranny and bamboo grove. It was the Peak entrusted to him by Shizun.

What would Shizun say from seeing him now ? He likely would whip Shen Qingqiu for his lack of forethought, for his cowardliness. A Peak Lord wasn’t supposed to abandon their Peak unless their whole generation was ready to step down, and it still was far too soon for the Qing generation to pick their successors.

This wretched slave begs for Shizun’s forgiveness, turned out he was unworthy as he feared he would be when Shizun decided to name him his heir.

But Shizun wasn’t there since years, and Shen Qingqiu didn’t know where the man went after formally discharging his duties. Maybe he had ascended, after all, or maybe he was roaming around the country. Maybe he was whittling the days away in seclusion, so obsessed by his latest masterpiece he would utterly forget to clean his room.

That sounded like him, alright.

Thoughts of Shizun stubbornly accompanied him as he reviewed lesson plans and terrified his hallmasters into remembering he was the one in charge on the Peak and deflated his students’ ego and confirmed no one had tried to break into the bamboo house or the warehouse in which his personal projects were waiting for him to complete or destroy. It took a week before he was sure everything was perfectly ordered as he liked it, and not too soon since the monthly Peak Lords meeting was upon him.

He felt – unusually queasy at the prospect of facing his so-called martial siblings. Three years in the Red Warm Pavilion, surrounded by flowers dazzled by his artistic prowess and his gold, had made him soft – he had to remember he was in hostile ground without reliable allies.

(but is he)

He always came early at the meeting, because he would be accused from slacking off otherwise, what a joke. Liu Qingge would miss half of the meetings and people never said anything to him, likely because he would break their bones and they were a bunch of cowardly shits.

Shang Qinghua also was there early, mainly because he would take notes for the records in his Peak. His reaction when he lifted his head and saw Shen Qingqiu was delightful, as he shrieked and almost fell to the ground, the hysterical rat.

« Is Shang-shidi alright ? » Yue Qingyuan inquired, early because the Sect Leader had to show he was serious about his duties.

« Yes ! Yes I am ! Just… wasn’t expecting to see Shen-shixiong... »

The wretch seemed ready to faint and squeaked when the Qing Jing Peak Lord arched one eyebrow. And that was supposed to be a Peak Lord ? The meeting wasn’t even started and Shen Qingqiu already felt his left eyeball throbbing in annoyance.

Chen Qingxu was there. He – didn’t actually believe she would come, she hated so much talking. And here she stood, slowly blinking at him in her threadbare blouse before going back to preparing tea – it wasn’t that different from an alchemical elixir, she could and did prepare tea when she was thirsty, she just was unable to remember the etiquette for when it was drunk by several people at once.

He said nothing to her as he sat, and she said nothing to him. It was better this way, with two other Peak Lords in the room, and the rest coming as time went by.

Of course his presence was noticed : some like Mu Qingfang and Wei Qingwei raised their eyebrows, Shi Qingxuan outright squealed and vibrated with nervous energy, and some like Qi Qingqi and Song Qingshi from the Ascetic Peak outright grimaced, their scents souring at his sight.

« You ! » Liu Qingge loudly barked.

« Me » he fired back, unfurling his fan and peering at the brute over the painted paper.

The qianyuan reddened until Shi Qingxuan almost begged him to take his seat, obviously understanding violence was in the air. Chen Qingxu put a tea cup in front of the qianyuan with a bit too much strength, the clay harshly clattering against the polished wood, and Liu Qingge warily eyeballed her as she turned away.

Shen Qingqiu breathed out of his mouth as Yue Qingyuan opened the session. Fireworks launching in one… two… three…

« So Shen Qingqiu is back » Qi Qingqi immediately pointed, of course she would lead the assault, she couldn’t stand him. « And we just were starting to enjoy the peace and quietness, too. »

« This master will concede he was feeling the same » the scholar fired back, « not having to hear a harpy’s shrieking for three years in a row is quite restful, who would have known ? »

The female qianyuan puffed up, hints of righteous fury tinting her smell. Shang Qinghua cringed and wistfully turned his head towards the window, obviously calculating how quickly he could jump through it and escape the incoming bloodbath.

« This is enough » Yue Qingyuan intervened with a bland smile while Chen Qingxu gracelessly offered a tea cup to the other woman, almost spilling the contents all over Qi Qingqi’s purple ruqun. « We are not here for fighting. »

Fan Qingxing snorted, a hint of disbelief in her sweet jasmine and blackberry perfume. Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t blame his shimei from the textile Peak, it sounded genuinely ludicrous with him, the fairy, the brute and Zhangmen-shixiong forced in closed quarters.

« Are we there to discuss the upcoming disciple selection trials ? » Wei Qingwei asked. « Because if they are just as pitiful as the last batch, I would rather slit their throats to feed our most bloodthirsty blades in storage. Could you believe I had to endure three ruined swords by the same lackwit, because he couldn’t be bothered with keeping the fire hot enough ! »

The sword-smith almost ranted at the end, and Mu Qingfang gently stroked his shoulder to relax the qianyuan.

« Is that just me » Shi Qingxuan tittered, « or the students just get dumber and dumber with time ? »

« That’s not polite nor kind to say » Song Qingshi intervened.

« Well, yeah, but that won’t change the facts... »

Shen Qingqiu wanted to push the tension in his back aside, but he was painfully aware that everything tended to go sideway when it seemed the Fates were smiling at you.

His suspicion was confirmed when Liu Qingge dropped his cup, gagging and pawing at his swollen tongue. Mu Qingfang immediately rose from his seat in order to check on the brute, only for Qi Qingqi to start choking, her face turning a purple shade almost the same as her gown’s.

« Poison ! » Shang Qinghua shrieked, stinking of panic to the point one would believe he was the victim instead of a bystander.

« Merely a chemical irritant » Chen Qingxu carelessly corrected him. « Stop crying, they mastered Embryonic Breathing so they are not going to suffocate. »

« And how , exactly, does Chen-shimei know that ? » Yue Qingyuan pleasantly asked, his eyes gimlet over his bland smile.

The Alchemist shrugged.

« It’s amazing how many pests are repulsed by ground or crushed chili pods » she blithely answered, « voles, deer, stray dogs and even bears ! So this Mistress Alchemist wondered, can it be used against an Immortal ? Of course, I needed to test my extracts with the subjects at hand... »

The Sect Leader’s expression was distinctly fixed in a way that screamed he was so annoyed that he genuinely considered hanging the target of his wrath by the toenails and leave them dangling over a pit filled with human excrement.

« Chen-shimei, are you seriously confessing poisoning your martial siblings’ tea  ? »

« Only yours and Qi Qingqi and Liu Qingge’s » the Alchemist retorted. « Now, might Zhangmen-shixiong be a dear and empty his cup ? He won’t suffer much… and this Mistress Alchemist really wants to collect her data. »

Shen Qingqiu didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry as the ridiculous scene was unfolding in front of his eyes. Chen Qingxu had admitted she wanted to poison three Peak Lords. Chen Qingxu had just poisoned two Peak Lords, and she was completely unrepentant.

(Xiao Mao has just poisoned the two people most liable to verbally assault Shen Jiu)

Soy fish, from the crispy kind. He would buy her one right after this meeting.

Chapter Text

Since he was reborn in this crazy world, Shen Yuan always woke up in his mother’s embrace. Yes, his stupid baby body forced him to have an early bedtime so when he was tucked in the tiny, cramped bedroom he was on his own, but when he woke up his mother would be there, warm and comfy and so wonderfully safe, his golden perfume of ripe peaches cradling him as he dozed, trapped in the frontier between sleepiness and awareness.

It literally was one of this new world’s constants, the gender politics and interactions were a freaking mess and being a whore was as harsh and tiring as you would expect and every time Shen Yuan would open his eyes on the morning a-Niang would be there.

Until this morning, barely a week after his third birthday and he should have noticed, he should have suspected his mother’s cheeriness from being slightly artificial, but this dumb body came with a dumb brain that just wouldn’t register all the clues and add them up so he never saw it coming, never even considered he might be left (abandoned) in the middle of the night, talk about a fucking cliché, the prostitute tearfully entrusting her illegitimate child to her most trusted acquaintance before starting a new life with her wealthy, much older beau that wasn’t kind enough to care about his new sex-toy’s toddler as a human being rather than a major inconvenience to his planned honeymoon.

His mother was gone.

The perfume almost fooled him. After three years sharing the tiny, cramped bedroom, a-Niang’s beautiful, soft smell had sunk within the plaster and the wood, and it likely would take several months of complete absence for it to vanish. It was strong and constant and for a tiny brain still scattered by fuzzy dreams, it would be overwhelming enough to be unable to notice the glaring difference.

But Shen Yuan had been wrapped in the blankets when he was supposed to be cradled in his mother’s arms, held against his soft yet surprisingly muscled chest. The embroidered cotton sheets were comfy and cozy enough, but they weren’t warm at all, not like a-Niang was warm.

His mother was gone .

Half a shichen had passed by when a nanny – Lin-jie, she had a twin sister but it was easy to know which one you were speaking to, San-jie was a meanie with an unsettling grin and Lin-jie was prone to look at people’s ears and fingers instead of their eyes – finally came and panicked because he was quietly sobbing, tears and snot running all over his face and fuck, that was a minor miracle for him to not be dehydrated.

The courtesans had immediately swamped him, tittering in dismay and cooing reassuring nonsense as they cleaned his face and got him in something else than his nightgown, he had barely the strength to notice it was a cheery little yellow dress embroidered with songbirds and he definitely was far too exhausted to throw a fit over it. They cuddled him and they sang nonsensical lullabies but even if they tried, he wasn’t that dumb, he could see they weren’t a-Niang.

His mother was gone.

Grandma Tang finally was brought by Ying-jie who looked ready to cry, and she sighed and took Shen Yuan on her lap.

« Oh, little one… Your grandma is so sorry. »

And she smelled like it, something rotten and sour in her citrusy perfume. Shen Yuan hiccuped and desperately hugged her, letting the madam cradle him as she would a very fragile doll.

She cuddled him a long time, whispering a dizzying mixture of lies and truth in his ear, and he could do nothing but listen, he was so tired and lonely.

Your a-Niang loves you so much. He never wanted for it to hurt you. Truth. Since he had been reborn in a fucking omegaverse, Shen Yuan would admit a pretty sweet deal was to feel in your bones and your lungs how much your parents cared for you.

He’s very sorry about leaving, he didn’t want but he couldn’t see another option open to him. Truth. Shen Yuan had seen how stressed and unhappy his mother was in the last months, as he likely was preparing his departure. He would have taken Shen Yuan with him if he had been given the opportunity, if he had thought it was safe to raise his baby anywhere else than in the brothel.

It’s only for a while, you just need to wait. It won’t last forever . Lie. Shen Yuan might seem to be a stupid baby but he actually wasn’t. He knew this kind of thing wasn’t temporary, just like surgery never was a minor thing, but his parents in his previous life just wouldn’t stop pretending…

It’s nothing important, Yuan’er. Just smile and it will be over soon. Only a tiny surgery, Yuan’er. Only a few medicines for you to get better. Nothing important at all, don’t worry.

People really enjoyed lying to children. Of course that would be a fucking multiversal constant.

Being motherless was a lot like when he was sick in the hospital, right before and right after his cardiac surgeries – it was cold and it was lonely in spite of the flowers and nurses doing their best to make him forget his situation.

Shen Yuan hated it with the exhausted, helpless hatred of someone far too small to even think about fighting a natural disaster.

He went on autopilot. Letting the nannies bathe him, dress him, feed him, tuck him in bed while he was – well, he was fine, really ! A lot of children would grow up without a parent involved in their life, for one reason or another, and Shen Yuan wasn’t starving or freezing to death in the gutter, so he couldn’t complain, that would be the pinnacle of self-centredness. He… he just was tired. He just needed a moment to get his feet under himself and no one would be able to stop him, but he just wanted to stop thinking for a while, just needed for his eyes to stop burning when he was left alone in the cold, empty bed…

A week and a half after his mother’s departure, Auntie Mao came back.

Rain or shine, Auntie Mao would wear her stained apron and her messy braids, stinking of sweat and various chemicals to high heavens, and it was kinda comforting for her to be unchanged in spite of Shen Yuan having his small world upended. She took a look at him and her eyes narrowed.

« He’s been in that state since the separation ? » the Alchemist asked to Grandma Tang, and she groaned when the madam nodded. « Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why do I even care ? »

« Because Mistress Alchemist is a righteous soul worthy to ascend as an Immortal in spite of painting herself as a stone-carved heart ? » Grandma Tang drawled, a teasing glint in her dark eyes.

Auntie Mao flipped the older woman off – how rude ! You are supposed to respect your elders, auntie – then she gathered Shen Yuan in her arms and went in the garden to sit under the tree.

« Your niang will owe me so much meat for all this shit » she grumbled. « If he doesn’t roast two cows at the very least, I swear I will give him the shitters for what’s left of the year. »

Shen Yuan hiccuped.

« Auntie – Auntie knows where a-Niang went ? »

He was grabbing her collar, and that couldn’t be comfortable to be half-strangled by a toddler, but Auntie Mao was unbothered and serene as she softly massaged his neck and shoulders with the inside of her wrist, covering him in her mulberry paper and floral ink perfume, and suddenly he was feeling much lighter, so much more settled.

« Yes, your auntie knows, beastie, because your auntie knows everything. And she will tell you as much as she can, every time she’s visiting. Is that alright with you, or do I need to lick your nose for this little beast to stop pouting ? »

Lick one’s nose ? That sounded so weird, Shen Yuan wetly giggled before going fully lax in her embrace.

Auntie Mao was there. It would be alright.

Chapter Text

Chen Qingxu was getting crazy, there was no other explanation for her current behaviour. She was losing her grip on her famed self-control, she was blatantly antagonizing the other Peak Lords from Cang Qiong when it would be so much smarter to keep away, and she let a little beast snot and slobber everywhere he could reach on her clothes while she was hugging and trying to soothe him. All of this because she felt bad for Shen-shixiong when he foolishly allowed a newt to bite him.

Wouldn’t she ever be done with this fucking kunze that just wouldn’t stop jumping into trouble and ineffectually flailing around, only to worsen the mess ? She was suspecting a fortune-teller wouldn’t give her a positive answer to that inquiry, and she despaired in her inner thoughts. She didn’t even like sex, but her current existence insisted to be fucked sideways with ginger and chili peppers from the extra hot variety and she suffered so much.

(she won’t acknowledge how good it felt when Yuan’er went limp in her embrace and softly purred as if he wholly, entirely trusted her to watch over him)

« This lowly one maintains it would be better for the little beast to be raised by his mother, even if Shen-shixiong has to lie about his origins and their blood relation » she quietly told the madam, as she cradled the toddler dozing on her lap, his tiny arms firmly clamped around her neck.

The other zhongyong woman had grimaced.

« I unfortunately don’t share your trust in the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, Mistress Alchemist. Just look how awful they are towards our a-Jiu – except for the present company, of course. »

« Who said I trusted them ? This lowly one is merely pointing that the little beast currently is in his formative years, and sustained trauma is never good for mental balance. Why, Yuan’er might be at risk to be possessed by a heart demon in his teens, and Shen-shixiong will have none to blame but himself. »

The former whore had sighed in front of her argument.

« If Mistress Alchemist manages to convince a-Jiu it would be for the best, then I shall accept this decision. However, Mistress Alchemist ought to remember how stubborn this silly boy is – it served him well as he was fighting tooth and nail to ascend as a Peak Lord and it serves him well when he’s teaching my flowers, but it tends to make it hard when he’s obviously following the wrong path and refuses to take another in spite of you screaming at him for his idiocy. »

The madam had been right – after the Chili Incident (and she wouldn’t repent for her behaviour, that bitch and the brute didn’t die from her little experiment and they deserved it anyway), Chen Qingxu had managed to send a discreet message to the Qing Jing Peak Lord in order to tell him how bad his spawn was faring in his absence and yes, the Alchemist could serve as a stopgap but she wouldn’t be able to fix the problem by herself, she merely was Auntie Mao after all (and what a silly nickname but she doesn’t forbid the brat from using it so that’s on her) she wasn’t a-Niang and she never would be, she barely could stand children when they had been sired by other people and she couldn’t imagine she would be better with kids of her own even if she was interested in the necessary process for having them.

Shen-shixiong had refused to budge on the matter of letting his spawn be raised in the Red Warm Pavilion, even if it did distress him but he claimed he had survived when his own wretched mother suddenly disappeared when he was barely five years old and had no support system whatsoever, so Yuan’er ought to be alright with the whores caring for him.

Chen Qingxu wanted to point three years old made for a much more dependent and sticky brat, but what did she know about raising children, especially when her own mother suddenly decided she couldn’t stand her ten years old daughter living under her roof and kicked her outside with nothing but a change of clothes, a purse filled with silver and the command to try and undertake the Disciple Trial at Cang Qiong Mountain if she really wanted to do something with her life.

(Xiao Mao ultimately did something worthwhile with her life so she supposes she ought to be grateful to the scummy female that whelped her yet there is something dark and itchy threatening to expand in her breast every time she thinks of the woman so it’s easier and more comfortable to try and outright forget her)

As her head threatened to implode if she stewed far too long on the matter, she decided she would take a walk – her current experiments didn’t need for her supervision and sometimes she had to move and look at the sky and the mountain – and go bother Shang Qinghua, he likely was in his office with mountains of paperwork that never seemed to diminish but rather were growing no matter the mousy Peak Lord’s herculean efforts to fight the flood.

He was, and his expression when she thrusted the woven reed basket in his ink-stained hands was a sight to remember – she certainly would.

« Chen-shijie, ah ! Do you… need something… ? »

She snorted as he shyly opened the basket, looked at its contents then bemusedly blinked.

« Is that a rat ? »

« It reminded me of Shang-shidi, so that lowly Alchemist couldn’t bring herself to vivisect him » she bluntly confessed.

It was the eyes, she was certain of it. The brown-furred rat had beady, black eyes glinting with a low cunning and had considered her like it knew something about her she would have never suspected. Maybe Chen Qingxu would have stomached poisoning the critter or using it for social experiments, but outright gutting it ? She would rather entrust it to its human peer.

Said human peer apparently wondered if her offering was an insult, from the way his smell of winter melon and water chestnut was tinted with sheer confusion as he eyeballed her. She blinked at him.

« Ah ha… thank… you ? But – what am I supposed to do with a rat ? It’s going to escape its basket then it will nibble my paperwork and my melon seeds and pee everywhere and I am pretty sure my King will think it’s some new delicacy because his tastebuds are plain weird and alright I get why but that doesn’t mean I can stand it ! »

It was rather fun to watch the An Ding Peak Lord flail. Unfortunately, one of his Disciples was posted right behind the door and she immediately came as the noise level started to rise about the usual for a poltive discussion.

« Shizun, here’s your tea, fresh from the kettle ! » the teenage girl claimed, right before she eyeballed Chen Qingxu in a way that plainly said the Alchemist wouldn’t get to be served hot tea, not even if she begged on her knees, how rude. « Oh, what’s this ? »

« A gift for Shang-shidi » Chen Qingxu repeated as the Disciple peered inside the basket. « To remind him of his family. »

« … Shizun, is that a rat ? It’s… it’s rather cute, actually. »

The nonplussed Disciple carefully stroked the rodent’s furry head with her finger after letting it sniff her skin and conclude she wouldn’t harm it. Shang Qinghua awkwardly laughed.

« Ahh, if Rong’er says so, this Master has no other choice but to believe her, doesn’t he ? »

For fuck’s sake, why did people lose their brains when they were interacting with their spawn ? Sometimes Chen Qingxu genuinely despaired for mankind.

Chapter Text

As a fourth son born from his father’s shu wife, Ming Fan had been informed quite early in his life that he had no good prospects whatsoever. His inheritance would be lesser, and his three older brothers had the familial tea plantation well in hand so had no need for him as their apprentice and helper. Also, Ming Fan wasn’t a beautiful child so couldn’t be married into another clan for more financial safety.

He had no great value of his own, so when he declared he wanted to join Cang Qiong Mountain and cultivate immortality one day over dinner, his parents had been more relieved than anything. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about his future anymore, and who knew ? Maybe he would achieve notoriety and bring them glory.

His da-ge brought him to the Tian Gong Mountain Range since he had deliveries to make in the surrounding towns and wished him good luck as he left Ming Fan on his own, his heartbeat rabbit-quick in his throat and his fingertips while his neck and armpits did their best to sweat and turn his cotton shirt into a sodden mess. He had been alright in the weeks leading to the Disciple selection, but now that it was about to happen, his belly just wouldn’t stop cramping.

What if he wasn’t picked at all ? Ming Fan never heard about someone being allowed to retake the trial, but he supposed he could try and join another sect like the Huan Hua Palace or the Zhao Hua Temple – in spite of them being very much behind the Cang Qiong Mountain when it came to reputation and achievements, and Ming Fan at least needed to aim for perfection because if he refused, then he was no better than a lazy parasite.

Why would one settle for the stars when one could jump and land on the Moon ? Maybe it was far too lofty a goal for a fourth son, but Ming Fan still wanted to jump and see where he would manage to land. His only certainty was that he wouldn’t go back to his family’s tea plantation, not after going that far.

So he climbed the stairs, and he couldn’t believe how many steps there were, his legs were burning and ready to crumble under his own weight when he finally reached the platform on which the trial was intended to take place, surrounded by many other red-faced boys and girls, some of them even younger than him, some of them older but no one seemed to be above sixteen years old.

Then the candidates were instructed to dig a hole. Just… why ?

« I can see why it would be interesting for the more martial Peaks like Bai Zhan » he complained to the male Disciple in black and bronze robes that was nearest from where he stood, « but what if you want to become a healer or a scholar or even an Alchemist ? How is that supposed to reflect on your abilities ? »

The Disciple had huffed a laugh but nonetheless told him to start digging, so Ming Fan started digging. Well, he could kneel and let his legs rest for a while as he used his hands and a stick in order to break the earth and shove dirt away from his hole, so it could definitely be worse.

He didn’t do that bad. Maybe he wasn’t the most physical child, but he had helped with harvesting and carrying the tea leaves, it gave him a basis, and he was sitting in a somewhat narrow trench coming to his navel when he heard a whisper of silk and saw a pair of white cloth boots in front of his eyes.

His belly was a painful knot of anxiety as he lifted the head and saw the most beautiful man in the world, draped in pristine white and spring green, a fan painted with bamboo hiding his lower face and his eyes sharp and inquisitive.

Maybe a fên passed as Ming Fan shivered under the weight of this gaze, then the fan snapped shut and he slightly jumped.

« Well, it seems it’s going to be you. Follow me, brat, and don’t dawdle on the path. »

Ming Fan’s legs awoke with a howling vengeance as he climbed out of his pitiful trench and trotted behind the Immortal of white and green, barely able to walk quick enough to not fall behind as the Peak Lord was confidently striding, leading him to a rainbow bridge – Ming Fan briefly peeked at the colored light beneath his scuffed shoes then firmly kept his gaze fixed on the glossy black waterfall of the Immortal’s hair – and a beautiful mountain covered by mist and bamboo, a picture that deserved to be inked and exposed in the Emperor’s palace.

Even if I fail, I have seen that, a dazed Ming Fan mused as he entered in a little house, even if I am kicked down these stairs, I will have seen an Immortal Master worth the title .

« Well, boy ? What are you waiting for ? »

The green gaze had narrowed, threatening to turn poisonous, and he felt mortified, why was he daydreaming when he still was on trial ? The room – a low table with cushions to sit – a small hearth sunken in the floor – fresh water container and cups – the smell of tea leaves in the air – a tea room ? Tea !

Ming Fan knew tea. He could do this.

Still, it would be best if his skin just could stop crawling, he felt so disgusting and gross in spite of washing his hands before handling the ustensils and picking a pot filled with the tea he considered best for the current situation – the Golden Water Turtle oolong from Mount Wuyi, one of their four famous brews, surely an Immortal would drink nothing but the best.

He was biting his lip as he offered the cup to the Immortal Master that delicately sniffed at it and slowly sipped the content. He would feel so much better if only he could read something in that faint, dewy bamboo perfume, but the Immortal Master had the most flat, colourless smell ever. Was that a consequence of high cultivation ? Ming Fan was unsure about liking it.

The – potentially a zhongyong ? It was such a mild scent – grown man softly sighed after drinking, and he wasn’t frowning or pouting so he liked it ! Ming Fan still was sweating but his hands weren’t shivering anymore.

« Boy. Why do you wish to become a Disciple of Cang Qiong Mountain ? »

The Immortal Master had softly put his cup on the low table, his move graceful and calculated, perfect. Everything about this man was perfect, his walk, his gaze, his confidence, and Ming Fan was so small and dumb and his tongue wanted to trip but he needed to answer.

« Because this one is worth nothing, and he wishes to become something » he said, the blood thundering in his ears. « He… Cang Qiong Mountain is the best, and this one might be unable to reach perfection but that’s not a reason for this one to not even try . »

His voice threatened to break on the last words, and he wanted to kowtow and beg the Immortal Master to please not kick him away, he went so far, surely it meant he had some value as a Disciple ? But it would have been just as foolish as the tale of the jingwei bird dropping pebbles into the Eastern Sea because it believed the sea could be filled up. Children were allowed to be foolish, but you couldn’t stay a child forever, especially when you were aiming for perfection.

The Immortal Master’s brows slightly furrowed, then he suddenly poured his tea over Ming Fan’s head. It wasn’t very hot, but he still wasn’t expecting it.

« This is a pitiful answer » the Immortal Master sneered.

Ming Fan blinked, tasting oolong on his lips.

« And this is a waste of good tea » he blurted before suddenly blushing.

The Immortal Master arched an eyebrow. Then he draw a paper book from his sleeve – was it magic ? His mother would kill for having magic sleeves in which she could stuff anything without fear of losing it – and presented it to the still dripping boy.

« Your cultivation manual. I trust you won’t shame Cang Qiong Mountain’s Qing Jing Peak, boy. »

Ming Fan’s neck was burning as he accepted his manual with both hands and bowed.

« This-this Ming Fan won’t, Shizun. He won’t . »

Maybe he would land on the Moon, after all.

Chapter Text

Since Shen Qingqiu intended to drop the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect in a few years – it would have to be after his baby’s presentation, Madam Tang and her flowers would ensure it would go smoothly and not traumatizing, and presentation could happen as early as nine years old or as late as fifteen, Mu Qingfang blathered on heredity and good environmental conditions and so many factors to take in account – he needed to train a successor to ensure his Qing Jing Peak wouldn’t go to the dogs after his departure. Shen Qingqiu had no great love for his status and the duties coming with it, but he nonetheless had his pride, and he wouldn’t let all of his hard work to be wasted.

So he would find a disciple he could whip in something approximating a good administrator and scholar in six years at the very least. Rather a tight schedule, and the brat likely wouldn’t have a lot of practical experience when the job would be dumped on his ass and as such would be bound to commit unavoidable and glaring mistakes, but Shen Qingqiu had dealt with shit piled upon shit shoveled at him since he was born and he was – tired from all this ridiculous comedy, playing the lofty Peak Lord when everyone sneered at his performance.

The succeeding brat would have to bear with it. Shen Qingqiu had a very limited amount of compassion since he joined Cang Qiong, and for a few select individuals – why would he waste it on some patsy he intended to get stuck with something he didn’t want anymore ?

So he attended the Disciple Selection trial, bored to tears as he fanned himself and pondering how the flying fuck he would pick a brat with the temperament to be a scholar or an artist when the fucking trial was to climb the mountain without fainting then digging a hole – clearly the Sect’s founders had been more interested in replenishing their monster fodder, not a year would pass without three or five disciples getting eaten by some beast or slaughtered by a demon and the less was said about Bai Zhan’s turnover rate, the better.

Then he heard the boy complain to the Qiong Ding senior disciple helping to supervise the event, thanks cultivation for enhancing the senses in general and his hearing in his specific case, and he got interested. Someone else thinking it was bullshit, the brat deserved investigating – and if Shen Qingqiu felt there was nothing more to the boy, he would let another Peak Lord take him. Maybe Shang Qinghua, the An Ding Peak Lord always complained about lacking helpers.

Shen Qingqiu watched as the brat was digging his trench, rather messily but steadily, keeping at it when the most cosseted candidates decided the life of a cultivator maybe wasn’t for their pampered selves and several other Peak Lords speculated on which kids seemed suitable for their teachings.

The brat was exhausted, but he wasn’t stopping. Didn’t look very wealthy, not with this nice cotton shirt and pants, but not poor either, so likely the latest born in a litter with too many sons already – when Sects weren’t taking qianyuans and whoresons and street urchins, they were the ultimate hope of fame and power for the sixth and eight children that would never inherit anything from their father and oldest siblings. Nothing special at home but desperate to prove himself, to stand out.

A plain face under a messy knot of hair tied with a fraying ribbon – and it wasn’t quite right, this face was far too young and a bit too square and definitely masculine yet…

(Xiao Mao whom no one will ever call pretty with her freckles and her messy braids constantly about to unravel because she’s unfocused when she’s tying the ribbons at the ends)

« Well, it seems it’s going to be you. Follow me, brat, and don’t dawdle on the path. »

The brat followed, hopelessly panting and quivering from fright and awe as he was led to Qing Jing Peak. Good – if he was impressed, then he would be less liable to trash the mountain and could be suitably molded to follow the guidelines and rules established by Shen Qingqiu to ensure the Peak would be running to maximum efficiency.

The kunze privately hoped the brat would be more scared than awed by him. Fear he could deal with, it was an acknowledgement of his abilities, but admiration ? Admiration led to desire, and he never had been able to stand desire.

(that shit Qiu Jianluo looking at him and commenting on his mouth and hips)

The tea ceremony on Qing Jing Peak was more than a way to bind a Disciple to their Shizun – the formalized ritual was about refining the sordid facts of everyday life until it became a beautiful and symbolic abstraction through sheer artistic artificiality. One couldn’t claim to be a genuine scholar if one couldn’t even politely serve tea.

After a bout of initial panic, the brat had calmed down and did alright. The oolong blend had been boiled not as long as it should have to be perfect, but it could have been worse and it was suited to the current situation. Also, the brat had washed his hands before using the ustensils – clearly he understood he couldn’t handle the scoop or the caddy with dirty, sweaty hands.

A plain-faced brat who was busy fretting his mind to pieces from anxiety but could rally himself together long enough to produce results. So far, Shen Qingqiu had no true reason to reject him as a Disciple. But he still wanted to check some other things.

Learning why the brat picked the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect instead of the Huan Hua Palace or the Zhao Hua Temple would be one. Was it merely because he had been dazzled by the Tian Gong Twelve Peaks’ fame ? Was it because it was closer to home and he wanted to keep touch with his family ? Why Cang Qiong and not another Sect ?

Because this one is worth nothing and he wishes to become something.

So that was it, a child’s dumb adoration mixed with the painful awareness of his own inadequacy, how pathetic. Shen Qingqiu’s teeth ached in annoyance, but he couldn’t very well bite the brat’s ear in order to teach him sense so he poured what was left of tea in his cup over the messy bun of hair.

He waited for the brat’s reaction. Would he start crying ? Would he get angry ? Shen Qingqiu didn’t care for crybabies, they were worse than useless. If the brat went furious, it would hint at some spine, but on the other hand it would mean he wasn’t that docile after all, and Shen Qingqiu already felt queasy from sharing a room with another male, even if that male was currently unable to do him harm by virtue of age and sheer weakness.

The brat had reeked of confusion instead in spite of the physical and verbal assault, firing back with an accusation about Shen Qingqiu not caring for the tea as he ought to have just like he poked at the utter uselessness of the selection trial for disciples then blushing so violently he looked a bit scalded, in spite of the tea being lukewarm at best.

So that was the kind of boy he picked : a mouthy brat that was hopelessly insecure and awkward but nonetheless had wits and guts enough to be worth some polishing. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to learn the Four Arts, so Shen Qingqiu would keep his eyes open and his ears to the ground as he searched for another potential successor, but he would try to refine that brat first.

By the way, he likely ought to ask for the brat’s name. Calling everyone on his Peak you there was a good way to quickly confuse the disciples, and Shen Qingqiu misliked confusion since it meant the wretched little things forgot they should fear him.

Only for the brat to give his name – Ming Fan – without being prompted as he received his beginner’s manual. Well.

If Ming Fan stayed on this path, maybe Shen Qingqiu would actually start to think he had some worth of his own.

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu abstained from going back to the Red Warm Pavilion for three months. With Yue Qingyuan watching him with such insistence, even worse than his usual pitiful clinginess and low-key disapproval, the Qing Jing Peak Lord needed to keep his haughty, aloof mask firmly glued on or it would have raised such a stink, the Highest Emperor in the Upper Realm would have heard of it and marvelled with all his Heavenly Officials.

Also, he needed to ensure his Peak got fully used to acknowledge him as their absolute authority – his hallmasters and disciples had to be rather forcefully reminded that yes, he still was involved in what happened on the mountain, and he could do whatever he wanted to them. The Son of Heaven that ruled the Middle Kingdom ? Never heard of that guy, get used to answer to the Xiu Ya Sword if you wanted to become a fully-fledged scholar !

Then the selection trial for new disciples had been held, and he had picked that brat Ming Fan after three years of the hallmasters picking the candidates they thought most promising. Said candidates were feeling rather threatened by a barely twelve years-old kid, but Ming Fan was stubbornly bent on justifying Shen Qingqiu’s choice of him as a Disciple and gave back as much as he received. The Qing Jing Peak Lord quietly suspected the brat’s attitude from being caused by his status as the runt of the litter – when one had more than one older sibling, one quickly turned into a pitiful, wretched doormat or a spiteful, snarling devil that would protect their stuff come hell or high water.

Of course, Shen Qingqiu had grown up a street urchin, but running with a pack of starving slave brats couldn’t be that different from being raised in a house filled with far too many relatives to feed them all when lean times surged.

Everything added up, and he genuinely had been unable to extricate himself from his duties and obligations before the three months mark. Chen Qingxu had been pretty unhappy with him – she now attended the Peak Lords’ regular meeting (something that she usually would forget, claiming she had much better to do) only to glare at him, and from the message carried by a bemused Disciple wearing a stained apron and a sturdy cap, she found her ten-days visits much more distressing than before and hoped something would be done to fix the mess or she would be reduced to commit something deeply inadvisable and traumatizing, probably to both her and Shen Qingqiu.

Besides that, she wasn’t interacting with the Qing Jing Peak Lord, likely because she wasn’t interested in feeding oil to the fires of rumor that accused him from bedding her on the fated newt culling, fuck you very much Qi Qingqi for this and fuck you Shi Qingxuan for being such a gossip after drinking three bottles of wine on a row. Shen Qingqiu could understand why she was behaving this way, people harassing you because they carelessly assumed they were entitled to criticize your life choices were tedious.

(and maybe Shen Jiu wants for the Alchemist’s unexpected care and exasperated tenderness to stay safe and hidden between the Red Warm Pavilion’s walls, for Xiao Mao to be his and only his instead of being shared with the other Peak Lords)

Finally, he decided he had waited long enough. Leaving his Peak Lord finery neatly abandoned in his wardrobe, Shen Qingqiu picked a dark green overcoat over soft grey Daoist robes, exchanging the heavy silver haircrown for an embroidered ribbon, and he left his Peak as evening was falling and drowning the heavens in rose and orange.

The Red Warm Pavilion was always open – courtesy of peddling flesh, this kind of market had no schedule whatsoever because customers just wouldn’t stop coming even if nighttime was more affluent – but for the first time, he wouldn’t use the front door. That was for the customers, and after three years hidden behind a veil and suffering pigs drooling and sighing after him, Shen Qingqiu found himself reluctant to be associated with these men. No, it was more comfortable to use the backdoor.

Yinghua was busy frowning at a small vase filled with wilting flowers when she saw him and squealed with all her might, jumping to kiss him on the cheeks as the young girl she still was and cuddling to the Immortal cultivator as if he was a beloved older sister or aunt or another kind of female relative, but of course a male kunze would easily slot in such a position.

« Master Shen ! Welcome back, Master Shen ! Oh, we have missed you like crazy , three months already ! How mean to take so long ! »

The kunze felt the corners of his lips twitching as he snorted in her soft, glossy hair.

« Begging for Yinghua’s forgiveness. This humble Master couldn’t find a way to free himself until this night. »

Yinghua haughtily sniffed, then started to cough a bit.

« Oh, that perfume, Master Shen ! Shoo, shoo, out to the bath, otherwise we won’t be able to talk without me suffocating ! »

« What a tragedy it would be » Shen Qingqiu earnestly declared before departing for the bathroom.

« This little sister will go and warn Mama from your arrival ! » Yinghua told him. « Another day without a visit of you, Master Shen, and she would have stormed the Tian Gong Twelve Peaks to be sure ! »

That was the image that accompanied Shen Qingqiu as he found his way to hot water and soap and clean towels, an irate Madam Tang surrounded by her small army of courtesans on Qiong Ding’s door and glaring at Liu Qingge for being such a tremendous knothead. The Bai Zhan brute would be left stammering and blushing if such a vision ever came to pass, the qianyuan was utterly useless and fell to pieces when he suspected something or someone to less than wholly virginal.

Oh, to be a fly on this wall – he was pretty sure Chen Qingxu would steal wine and snacks from Shi Qingxuan in order to enjoy the spectacle, or maybe the Zui Xian Peak Lord would gladly bring the refreshments as long as he could feed his unending appetite for scandal.

Still, he couldn’t waste his time daydreaming. There was someone he ached to behold again.

His heart was beating against his ribcage as his feet led him to the cramped bedroom, and as he gingerly opened the door, he smelled his own scent of peaches still going strong, but he went to sleep in this tiny room for three years and he didn’t bother to wash his pheromones into nonexistence, of course the walls would be saturated with them.

(it smells like going home after being lost in the cold and dark)

The bed was an unholy mess of blankets and embroidered pillows and in the middle laid Yuan’er, a pout on his chubby little face as he slept and Shen Qingqiu wanted to sob as something deep in his chest twisted and burned , so bright and hot, he couldn’t tell if it was pain or pleasure.

He gently fell upon the bed, kissing every part of his baby that he could reach, his little hands and his cheeks and nose and ears and his downy hair, did he grow up ? Babies were like weeds, you would turn your back for half a fên and they would shoot up until they reached your waist, in spite of your prayers for them to stay little just a mite longer…

Yuan’er mewled and flailed under the sudden flood of affection, then stilled.

« Niang ? A-niang ? » he called, his voice sweet and confused by sleepiness and surprise.

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t speak, his throat burned alongside his eyes, but he could purr as he lovingly wrapped himself around his baby, and he did.

Yuan’er squealed.

« A-niang ! A-niang is back ! »

I’m back.

Chapter Text

Of course, Yuan’er was far too young to stay awake more than a fên when it was so late in the evening, but it would have been cruel to confine him to the bed when he was busy gripping his mother’s front lapels with all the might his tiny, soft body could muster – it wasn’t a lot of might – so Shen Qingqiu went to the tearoom with his baby cradled in his arms, happily snuggling against his chest and drooling on the silk, his milky scent faint and relaxed as his eyelids twitched.

« Finally he’s soundly sleeping again » Wu San had snorted as she glared at the Qing Jing Peak Lord. « Let me tell you, Master Shen, it’s really hard to keep your client focused on your assets when there is a brat whining in the brothel because his mama has vanished into thin air. »

« Do give our best wishes to Mistress Alchemist, if you find her out of her workshop » her twin sister Wu Lin beamed. « Did she tell you, after your departure, she started coming in the evenings when it was time for her weekly visit ? This way she was present to tuck the little scamp in bed. Oh ! And she also left her jacket behind, she just wouldn’t stop, she claims she’s forgetting but if you ask me, it’s because Yuan’er understood she would come back for her jacket every time. »

Several flowers giggled, their smells bubbling with fondness and amusement.

« She’s rather harsh and cold to behold, but truly she’s a gooey one, our little Alchemist » Lihua commented as she patted Shen Qingqiu’s hand. « She perfectly suits Master Shen. »

The scholar softly hhmed in his throat, his face refusing to betray the fact that he was stuck on Wu San’s words, about Yuan’er crying in the night because he woke up alone and no matter how much he called, his mother refused to come back until this evening. Even so, it wouldn’t be a permanent reunion : Shen Qingqiu had barely a few shichen, maybe a whole day, before he was forced back on Qing Jing Peak or the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect would lose their collective shit in front of his new disappearance. He refused to chance the possibility of Yue Qingyuan asking for Bai Zhan’s services in tracking their errant Peak Lord – for all his infuriating stupidity, the brute was an expert in hunting elusive prey, a mix of his cultivation-enhanced sense of smell and Qi-tracking.

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t stay too long after his baby would wake up tomorrow. He could just promise he wouldn’t take that long to visit again next time – it would have to be enough, Yuan’er wouldn’t die from the separation, children were resilient little shits and would bounce back from the worst circumstances, just look at the street urchin Shen Qingqiu had been.

Yuan’er would be alright. Shen Qingqiu needed to believe this.

(he certainly doesn’t believe it in the depths of his mind and heart, just look at Xiao Jiu, did he actually turn alright in spite of reaching so far, so high)

But it was a matter for tomorrow morning. For now, Shen Qingqiu was cuddling his baby, surrounded by all the courtesans that weren’t busy entertaining a pig or ensuring the Warm Red Pavilion was alluring and comfortable, and these pretty flowers wanted to know how he managed to survive away from them and Madam Tang, were these haughty cultivators mean to you, Master Shen ? Or do we need to call you Shen-jie, after all, you are our peerless Veiled Beauty !

Yinghua unrepentantly grinned as he glared at her for the audacity, while giggling filled the air again. He suspected he would never truly be able to shed the nickname, just like he was unable to stop Chen Qingxu from calling him a-Jiu.

(at least these are nicknames given with tenderness and affection, they’re not seeking to degrade him like Xiao Jiu, the reminded of his past weakness and helplessness)

So he told them about Yue Qingyuan being his usual simpering, useless self, he told them about the Chili Tea Incident – really, Chen Qingxu soon would be adopted by the Warm Red Pavilion if she wasn’t already considered as one of theirs – he told them about the Disciple Selection Trial and the brat he picked up to be his newest student.

« Is he a good one, Master Shen ? »

The Qing Jing Peak Lord shrugged, readjusting his grip over his son to prevent Yuan’er from slipping.

« This master has seen better, but he definitely has seen worse. Ming Fan is hard-working and he listens when I talk, so I shan’t complain. »

Well, he would complain if the boy couldn’t shape up and match his exacting standards for a scholar and a cultivator, but he had an unusually good feeling about Ming Fan.

« So… Master Shen is currently looking for students… Would he be interested in another one ? »

Tanhua was one of the older courtesans still working in the Warm Red Pavilion – actually, she might be one of the older whores in the Flower District to not have retired or been reduced to begging in the gutter. At forty-two years old, she still retained a flawless skin and the weight of time only managed to grant her a startling gravitas and composure – more than a few men paying for her time fancied themselves refined, and it was easy to understand the appeal of such a woman for their kind.

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t see her retire before she reached half a century of living in this world. If she wanted to mentor another girl, she still had time, so her trying to push a kid upon him – she likely asked the Qing Jing Peak Lord, not the Veiled Beauty.

« That depends on the student, I would say » he honestly answered.

There was no surprised or disappointed glint in the clear brown gaze.

« My daughter » Tanhua started to explain, « decided she would marry the first man who seriously offered to redeem her, as she couldn’t see herself in our kind of business for more than half a decade. So when she was nearing eighteen years old, she left the Red Warm Pavilion with this petty craftsman – not a very bright man, but he wasn’t mistreating her, and my daughter’s letters reassured me that she wasn’t starving, so I was content with the situation. »

The older woman sighed as she briefly closed her eyes.

« Last month, this dullard wrote me to let me know my daughter died from the cough. Silly girl, she would always forget her lungs were frail. »

« My heartfelt condolences for your sorrow » Shen Qingqiu whispered, and it was painfully genuine, as something twisted deep in his chest and his arms stiffened around his own precious, precious child, safe and warm and alive .

(thank the Heavens, this is not my baby who died)

A soured floral stench of exhaustion had found its way in Tanhua’s perfume, her eyes half-lidded.

« Master Shen is very kind. So this grandmother was hoping a bit of this kindness would be granted to her little granddaughter. Her father already has three grown children to marry by his first wife, and a young girl needs all the help she can find after losing her mother. »

Shen Qingqiu frowned.

« You could raise her yourself, couldn’t you ? »

« The dullard that married my daughter would have drowned my granddaughter in the Luo River if I had expressed any interest in taking her as my successor » Tanhua snorted. « Frankly, even if I had his blessing, I don’t think she would be happy as a flower, plucked by so many hands and discarded just as quickly. »

« Where this master can open the door to fame and wisdom for her » Shen Qingqiu concluded. « Have you considered she might not have the right temperament for cultivating Immortality ? »

« Then she still will learn enough to have a good life on your Peak. Master Shen won’t be too stern with my Yingying, I hope ? »

The Qing Jing Peak Lord shrugged.

« As long as she behaves. »

Chapter Text

Being there for Yuan’er opening his eyes and sharing breakfast with his baby had been so heartwrenchingly good that Shen Qingqiu almost shattered to pieces, especially when the tiny boy had refused to leave his lap and stubbornly clutched his neck with one hand as he tried to eat his congee with the other – it ended up in a mess, the toddler’s chubby cheeks and chin and Shen Qingqiu’s robes splattered with rice and bits of pancakes, was it even possible to be that clumsy, the older kunze fondly groused as he wiped his baby’s face.

Then time came for him to leave.

Yuan’er hadn’t screamed. He hadn’t thrown a tantrum. He just started to cry – golden tears running down his pale, pale little face, and Shen Qingqiu should have slapped the tears out of him, Yuan’er couldn’t cry, not ever. Golden tears would immediately betray him as a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast, and he would be raped or his legs and arms cut to be cooked while he would watch, then Yuan’er would never manage to escape to safety – bawling never helped, it was true on the streets and it was more true than ever for the thrice-cursed bloodline both kunze were born into.

(Xiao Jiu’s own wretched mother pinched and slapped and beaten him until he was black and blue, until he was so tired and hurting he couldn’t cry anymore, hissing again and again at him that he had to forget how to produce tears, do you want to be turned into a human stick that anyone will ride until you die, you dumb brat, they won’t give a shit about your age because they only care about you having a hole in which they can shove their dicks, and she reeked of despair under the layer of trash and dirt coating her but her eyes were completely dry)

(when he was three years old Xiao Jiu wouldn’t cry no matter how hard you would hit him)

Shen Qingqiu had given his tiny, soft baby a last hug before swaddling him in his overcoat.

« Can you watch this for me, Yuan’er ? It’s too hot so I cannot walk around with that on my shoulders, but I will have to take it back when the weather will turn cooler. Do you understand ? »

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t vocally promise he would be back, not after Yue Qi’s spectacular failure to keep his word, but he could imply it, and it had worked. Yuan’er had even smiled – a small, shy expression on his pouty lips – before Lihua picked him up to be brought back to the cramped bedroom reeking of peaches.

It was a good thing for the Qing Jing Peak Lord to have mastered Embryonic Breathing, because the sharp pain stabbing him in the lungs would have suffocated him otherwise.

Still, he couldn’t die – there was so many things left to do, and the first and currently most urgent was to help Tanhua by stealing her granddaughter away from said granddaughter's father.

The house was located in the craftsmen’s neighbourhood – Ning Weiwen wasn’t the most affluent tailor, but he was comfortable enough to have two apprentices in his shop and to buy a pretty young thing that would flutter eyelashes at him and listen to him complain about the cloth trade as if she was worshipping at a god’s altar. His face was squarish, his hair graying and his body slowly going to seed under his neat, brown shirt and pants – nothing but a hopelessly mundane man that would enjoy a cup of wine in the evening, fret about marrying his daughters to someone competent and willing to take care of his business and would praise the Emperor as long as the ruler wasn’t dragging the town into war.

This desperately bland man had been as shocked to find Shen Qingqiu walking in his shop as a chicken would be to stumble upon the axe intended to lop its head off. Then the Qing Jing Peak Lord declared he had received a revelation about someone worthy of his teachings living in the house – yes, he was playing the mysterious Immortal master a bit too hard, but the more mediocre the audience, the more people would eat this shit with a spoon – and Ning Weiwen puffed up with pride, telling his slaw-jacked apprentice to go and bring his daughters while he was properly greeting the Immortal Master.

It had been tedious, and it had been embarrassing – for the tailor, at least – and Shen Qingqiu internally sighed with relief when the daughters were lined in the courtyard, their faces reddened by excitation and a hasty cleaning, their hands quivering in spite of their best efforts to look serene and obedient.

Three of them were pretty enough, their father introducing them as Ning Yingyue, Ning Yingxuan and Ning Yingshi, extolling how good they already were at embroidery and Ning Yingyue could name the biggest merchants in the Imperial capital, Ning Yingshi could help all the afternoon with deliveries and when the donkey would fall sick she would draw the carriage by herself, Ning Yingxuan never fell sick a day in her life and had a terrific memory for opera singing, just ask her to sing you something if you don’t believe me !

Shen Qingqiu politely listened and praised the young ladies for their talents, making them blush even deeper and smile so wide it was blinding, but he was keeping an eye for his real target, the fourth daughter at the end of the line.

She couldn’t be more than eleven years old, the blue jacket and yellow skirt she wore suitable for a concubine’s daughter, and she was gaping at him with wide, hazel eyes – Tanhua’s eyes – in her cute, round face.

After being introduced to her older sisters, Shen Qingqiu turned towards her.

« Why does the Immortal Master smell so weird  ? » she immediately blurted, to her family’s horrified shock.

«  Yingying  ! » Ning Weiwen thundered, his smell filling with a rather curious overtone – not exactly irritation, not exactly vindication, was he expecting of her to make a misstep ?

« What ? » the girl candidly asked, blinking innocent eyes. « He does ! »

From the way her older sisters were grimacing and softly rolling their eyes, the brat apparently had a long story for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, to the wrong person. Shen Qingqiu usually couldn’t stand this kind of twit, but the girl had noticed something wrong about him. If he could hone her instincts, if he could refine her awareness, she just might become quite the interesting young lady. At the least, it might save her life if she ever was confronted by a disguised demon or a criminal impersonating a righteous citizen of the Middle Kingdom.

He unfurled his fan – it was painted with red-crowned cranes in flight – and the girl softly breathed out, obviously entranced by the beautiful, luxurious accessory.

« It seems the young miss has need of someone to teach her when she’s allowed to insult people, or how to do so without letting them notice » he mused. « Tell me, little one, have you ever considered apprenticing yourself under a cultivation sect ? »

She scrunched her forehead under her thick bangs, obviously wondering if he wasn’t playing a prank on her. The Qing Jing Peak Lord waited.

« … Yingying is too small still » she ultimately muttered, her hand twisting the hem of her jacket.

« Yingying will grow up one day » he reminded her. « And this Master thinks she would rather enjoy living on his Peak. »

« Ah… Is the Immortal Master certain about this ? » Ning Weiwen asked, stinking of anxiety. « Our Yingying is… well, you just saw how she is. She never means bad, of course, but she has a genuine gift for poking right in the weak point and it tends to annoy a great deal... »

The Immortal cultivator idly waved his fan.

« Poking precisely the weak point is very much a great advantage when one is fighting on the political battlefield. My Qing Jing Peak is a home for scholars and artists, and I assure you, the philosophical and poetic debates are nothing short of ruthless. Your daughter would be one of the moderate participants, actually. »

The tailor wilted from relief, as he finally understood that Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t destroy his life over a measly little accidental insult. He probably also was reassured to learn his youngest would be studying poetry and fine arts instead of finding herself fighting for her life against beasts and demons – loving parents tended to balk at this point.

« Well, young miss ? What is your answer ? »

The girl hmmed low in her throat, then she smiled, a dazzling exhibition of small, white teeth.

« Alright, then. Yingying will do her best ! »

Chapter Text

Packing everything needed for Ning Yingying to live in the dormitory was rather quick, even if Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but frown in front of the embroidery thread and needles she stuffed in a linen pouch – good enough for her to practise, but she would need better materials and tools if she really wanted to call herself a disciple on his Qing Jing Peak.

Then her older sisters insisted to kiss her goodbye and remind her to visit when she would have time, and her father solemnly entrusted her to Shen Qingqiu as a student with the slightly wistful yet relieved frown of a man finding a way for a troublesome yet much loved child to become a productive and useful member of society.

Since Yue Qingyuan surely would panic if the Qing Jing Peak Lord stayed away from Cang Qiong Mountain more than a shichen, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t walk back to his Peak and decided to introduce the girl to sword-flying – she would have to familiarize herself with the skill soon or later, at the least he wouldn’t allow her to fall and splatter the countryside by turning into meat slurry.

The brat squealed when they started to hover, immediately turning around to throw her arms around his waist. He should have pushed her away, but there wasn’t space enough on Xiu Ya for him to safely do that and she would be less at risk if she firmly clutched him, after all…

Still, she was upsetting his balance, so he seized her under the armpits in order to be lifted and carried on his hip. Really, it wasn’t that difficult – Ning Yingying was as heavy as a wet sparrow, even with her bag, and apparently used to be carried this way if judging by her going limp and rearranging her limbs to have a better grip on Shen Qingqiu’s clothes. What a little monkey.

« Does the Immortal Master have a pretty mountain ? » she asked right in his ear as Shen Qingqiu turned towards the Tian Gong mountain range. « Er-jie enjoys her opera, and Immortals always live on a mountain in the opera. »

« Real life isn’t an opera » Shen Qingqiu pointedly sniffed.

« This is why Yingying is asking » the brat pouted. « So, is your mountain pretty ? »

The male kunze internally lamented the fact that Tanhua hadn’t been allowed to raise her granddaughter, the courtesan likely would have prevented the girl from being such a cheeky little shit. Or maybe not, since Tanhua was like a dog with a bone when she felt curious or was bent on discussing something she thought important.

« It’s very quiet, and very green » he answered her. « A lot of bamboo, and several ponds in which you are not allowed to bathe without supervision, or you might disturb the fishes inside. But you won’t see it first. »

« Why ? »

« Because you will visit the Healers’ Peak before mine. This master has to be sure you have the potential to cultivate properly, and if not, he wants to know why. »

Frankly, Shen Qingqiu didn’t think Ning Yingying needed a physical – the girl looked happy and healthy, her father obviously not the kind of scum that would beat his daughters or confuse them with his spouses – but it was better to be safe than sorry. Better to nip a problem in the bud, if Mu Qingfang ruled her as inapt to wield qi for a reason or another, or found something dangerous in her body such as a weak heart or unbalanced humours that would make her mind liable to tear apart with age.

Also, him going to Qian Cao Peak would give him some space to breath – Yue Qingyuan and Chen Qingxu would finally stop looking at him when they thought he couldn’t see them. Well, mostly Chen Qingxu, Yue Qingyuan openly and blatantly tried to guilt-trip the Qing Qing Peak Lord into folding with more than a few disappointed gazes.

Seriously, fuck him. Shen Qingqiu hadn’t been killed by the slavers or the Qius or Wu Yanzi in spite of their best efforts, why would he let some disease ruin his day now that he was one of the top cultivators in the Middle Kingdom ? But that was Yue Qingyuan for you, always fretting about stupid things.

Shen Qingqiu was still seething the tiniest bit when he landed in front of Qian Cao’s main building, Ning Yingying sneezing in his collar because of the herbal stench rising from the gardens in which the outer Disciples would grow flowers and vegetables and other things good for pills, teas and medicines. A cluster of brats clothed with greyish and dark green linens scattered at their arrival, obviously running to warn Mu Qingfang about them.

When the Peak Lord finally came, Ning Yingying was gasping and trying to hold her breath in order to stop sneezing, her eyes verging on puffy and distinctly coloured in a pinkish shade. To his credit, Mu Qingfang decided to wait before complaining about the disturbance and immediately whisked the girl in his office to flush her sinuses and poke at a precise acupoint. It took barely a fên for the girl to feel much better.

« Many thanks to the Immortal Master » she politely said, « even if his mustache is stupid. »

Shen Qingqiu grimaced. Alright, facial hair did not suit Mu Qingfang, but even Qi Qingqi would only allude to it, she wouldn’t outright call him out on his refusal to shave ! Truly, this girl needed to learn subtlety !

« Helping people is my job » the healer amiably answered. « Pray tell, Shen-shixiong, is this young lady one of your students ? She certainly shares your taste for pointed remarks... »

Harsh yet true. Shen Qingqiu regally fanned himself in order to retain some countenance.

« Ning Yingying will be under this master’s protection as of today. I was bringing her for Mu-shidi to ensure nothing will threaten her health in the future, and already I can see we shall have to watch for allergies. »

« It’s amazing how many people cannot even stand to visit my Peak » the physician mused. « Oh well, it helps with weeding candidates asking to be taught by Qian Cao, I suppose. Now, young Maiden Ning, we shall proceed to your physical. Have no fear, this one won’t use another needle on you. »

Mu Qingfang ultimately declared Ning Yingying was perfectly healthy for a nine year old girl – and it was younger than Shen Qingqiu expected, but it would give her time to focus on her academics before seriously cultivating – gifted with a strong yin affinity, not a surprise since she was female, and unable to stand ryegrass and nettles without sneezing a storm. As the girl happily babbled about how excited she was to live on a mountain covered with bamboo and learn how to paint and play music, the healer affably smiled and softly reminded her she would have to work hard, this was a great opportunity so she would prove herself worthy of it, wouldn’t she ?

Of course it was nothing but professional deportment, but it still was nice to see the Qian Cao Peak Lord acting kind towards Tanhua’s granddaughter.

(would this soft demeanour disappear if Mu Qingfang learned this sweet girl was a former whore’s get)

When the physical ended, Ning Yingying was left free to marvel at the drawings in an herbal compendium while Mu Qingfang turned towards his martial sibling.

« Since Shen-shixiong is there, would he finally allow this humble shidi to confirm he’s not running his health into the ground as some fear ? »

Shen Qingqiu twitched .

He didn’t meant to do so, truly he was expecting such a request, Mu Qingfang wasn’t the kind to neglect his duties and the Qing Jing Peak Lord had been overdue for a physical as he would always find an excuse to not come. His secrets were too heavy for him to act otherwise.

And for all of the Qian Cao Peak Lord’s politeness and staunch professionalism, Mu Qingfang still was a man.

(never a good thing comes from letting a man lay a finger upon Shen Jiu)

The healer noticed the shiver. Of fucking course he did, Mu Qingfang was blessed with something between his ears and wouldn’t entirely rely on scent to diagnostic one patient.

« Shen-shixiong, do you know what is the most important thing to have for a physician ? »

Shen Qingqiu carefully kept his face frozen.

« Being a scholar, this master would answer knowledge. Knowledge enough to avoid killing the people one wishes to help. »

His shidi snorted, bubbles of amusement in his smell.

« A good answer, but not the one I was thinking about. In this humble healer’s opinion, trust matters the most. If my patient doesn’t trust me to have his well-being at heart, how am I supposed to care for him ? And obviously Shen-shixiong doesn’t trust me, for flinching when we share a room and nothing more. »

Why was the Qing Jing Peak Lord cursed with such an observant shidi ? He raised his fan in order to hide the grimace twisting his lips, while Mu Qingfang kept his dark brown eyes focused on him.

« So you see, it will complicate things regarding shixiong’s health. »

Chen Qingxu was going to be annoyed as if there was no tomorrow, Shen Qingqiu mused. She had hoped to get rid of him by dragging him to Mu Qingfang instead, only for the Qian Cao Peak Lord to toss him back to her, talk about a failure !

« Chen-shijie, hm ? »

Ah, crap. Did he just say that out loud ?

Chapter Text

« Absolutely not. »

For once, Chen Qingxu wasn’t wearing her usual bored expression. No, her face was twisted in supreme disgust and annoyance, looking like a cat perched on a tree and sneering at the foolish humans for not bowing down and groveling in front of its mere presence.

Mu Qingfang kept his smell carefully bland and his facial features inexpressive. If he seemed a bit too desperate, she would literally kick him out of her Peak – and her aim was nothing to sneeze at, and she enjoyed her heavy, wooden clogs when she was working in her lab since wood wasn’t at risk to cause explosive reactions when stained with various substances.

The dangers Mu Qingfang would brave to ensure his martial siblings’ continued good health, it truly beggared the mind.

« Chen-shijie... »

« I said no » she immediately cut him. « No is supposed to mean no. It’s not yes and it’s not as you wish, it’s a fucking no. Is that so hard to understand ? »

It wasn’t, and the physician usually would respect that. However, Shen Qingqiu had stubbornly refused to go and see a physician since he ascended as the Qing Jing Peak Lord – wait, no, Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t even let a healer take a look at him when he still was a Disciple – he was more threatened than any other Peak Lord by illnesses and injuries that were wholly preventable with the right diagnostic and care, and if this problem could be fixed by swapping Mu Qingfang with someone guaranteed to put their prickly shixiong at ease, then Mu Qingfang would gladly throw Chen Qingxu at the scholar with his own hands.

Yes, he was slightly desperate. When one finally had the opportunity to fix a broken thing that nagged at you for several years, one shall have no hesitation whatsoever.

« Shen-shixiong won’t let me give him a physical » he reminded his martial sister with his most matter-of-fact tone, she responded better to logic and cold truths than impassionate pleading. « But he’s open to entrust himself to Chen-shijie as her patient. »

The Alchemist snarled, her smell brutally souring and bathing her in a cloud stinking of rotting mulberry paper.

« Who has a patient here ! » she yelled. « I am a fucking Alchemist from the Ling Shu Peak, not a doctor, and I am not interested in changing my qualifications ! »

« Not even if Yue-zhangmen was giving you his blessing ? »

The frumpy zhongyong female plastered a sickly sweet smile on her lips, still stinking of rot.

« Is Mu-shidi asking me to do a job for Zhangmen-shixiong ? » she cooed, and wasn’t that disturbing. « Because the only job I would agree to help him with would be to hold the sword as he falls on it. The only job I would agree to help him with would be to see his ass kicked so hard, Tianlang-jun himself would escape his prison because he doesn’t want to miss the sight. The only job I would agree to help him with would be to serve as his witness as he jumps from Qiong Ding’s summit into the Endless Abyss. »

Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows twitched under his cap as they tried to escape within his hairline – he really wasn’t expecting for Chen Qingxu to nurture such spite towards Yue Qingyuan, that would be more Shen Qingqiu’s speed, was she that attached to the Qing Jing Peak Lord that she was starting to follow his lead ?

Well, he supposed it was a good thing for these two introverts to finally create some kind of connection, however…

« That’s three jobs » he couldn’t help but point.

« Choke on Wei Qingwei’s dick, Mu-shidi. Don’t you dream about croaking this way ? » the Alchemist sneered.

That was rather mean a thing to say, but when one was not fully hostile to a qianyuan, of course one would be suspected from fucking them. Why would you want them around otherwise ?

« This isn’t about my having intimate relations with our martial brother » the healer decided to remind the Alchemist. « This is about you potentially helping Shen-shixiong because he feels he can trust you, and obviously you care about him. »

Chen Qingxu snorted so hard, it sounded like braying and it verged on a miracle for her grey matter to stay inside her skull inside of being ejected through the back of her head.

« Does Mu-shidi even remember whom he’s adressing ? This shijie of his has no heart at all. If she could rip it from her chest and give him to the dogs for them to eat, she would have done it years before. »

Yes, that was the great obstacle for Mu Qingfang to breach, wasn’t it ? The Alchemist’s utter conviction that she wasn’t able of love. To his ears, it rang – not exactly false, but more like something you would repeat again and again because you wanted for it to be real, instead of seeing the truth of yourself.

« So Chen-shijie would let Shen-shixiong die, if both of you were too far from Cang Qiong for anyone else to intervene ? »

The Alchemist twitched , just like Shen Qingqiu had twitched when facing the prospect of letting the Qian Cao Peak Lord give him a physical, and her smell briefly flattened to express something almost like shyness , almost like helpless , before letting the stench of rot and burnt rise again as a defensive wall against barbarian invaders.

« And why would it mean anything ? If I have the knowledge, and there’s no one else. There is no choice in this. »

« You have the choice to walk away. »

She twitched again, and her breathing hiccuped, but she kept quiet this time as she firmly tried to keep her smell from wobbling – and failed only for a moment, but it was enough for Mu Qingfang.

Of course Chen Qingxu wouldn’t think she was kind. For so many people, kindness was a choice – it was something carefully taught in childhood and adolescence, a learned behaviour to make someone look further than themselves, a social construct ensuring future generations could be safely born without their parents tearing each other apart.

For so many people, kindness was the acknowledgement of one’s darker impulses, and nonetheless making the choice to put another’s needs before yours.

Chen Qingxu was kind in the same way a child would be kind : carelessly, not even remembering it, not even thinking about it, just doing it because she had the means and she was there and she felt like it, so wouldn’t she ?

The uncomplicated purity of a girl who cared about her brother. Nothing more, nothing less.

Mu Qingfang sighed.

« Chen-shijie » he softly told her. « as you said, it doesn’t have to mean anything, for you to help Shen-shixiong to stay healthy. It’s nothing but a choice for you to make. »

Such was the truth behind bonding – and Chen Qingxu had bonded with Shen Qingqiu, even if she would rip her fingernails from their bed rather than admit to it – you wouldn’t bond with someone else because this person had earned it, or because you wanted something from them. You would bond with that person because you cared.

The Alchemist loner bonding with the haughty, prideful scholar. A story for the ages, surely.

The female zhongyong sniffled and scratched at her hand as if she wanted to tear the skin. Her eyes were vacant and carefully avoided to focus, as it sometimes happened when one wanted to cry in frustration but refused to let the tears freely flow.

« Go away, Mu-shidi, or you will have to replace your hat after eating this one on your head. »

Well, that was his hint to leave, and he would follow it. Chen Qingxu was able and willing to make her threat a reality after all. Still, he would consider this visit a success.

At the end, Chen Qingxu hadn’t repeated she wouldn’t do it.

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t deal with crying women. He couldn’t stand crying people as a rule, but a sobbing man would only enrage and annoy him where a tearful woman would throw him in a panic as he never did seem to find the right words to soothe her.

So when Chen Qingxu – Chen-shimei who prided herself on being heartless, who hated showing anything that could be misconstructed as sentiment and thus human weakness – barged in the Qing Jing Peak Lord’s bamboo house with her eyes shining in a horrendously wet manner and surrounded by a rancid smell of burning paper and soured ink flush with sheer, raw helplessness , the kunze that wouldn’t acknowledge himself as such had been ready to faint in horror or jump out the window to escape the storm.

Then she pointed at him and started to yell, sniffling all the while to prevent the tears from running free across her cheeks.

« You ! Why the fuck do I have to be stuck with you ? You couldn’t be a grown-up and suck it up and go pester Mu Qingfang for your medical care – noo, he fucking noticed you wouldn’t stop bothering me, of course he did because someone couldn’t give a flying shit about being discreet ! »

Yes, he kinda expected the lecture – he kinda deserved the lecture, Shen Qingqiu had grown in the streets as a slave brat and knew how important it was to keep a secret. Everyone disliked tattletales, even the ones that reaped the fruits of their betrayal.

Chen Qingxu was on a roll, waving her hands as if she hoped to dispel the distress pheromones her skin was pumping out in the atmosphere – or maybe she was trying to spread them, that would be exactly what she would do, dragging him in the hole of misery he pushed her in.

« And he told me you apparently were in good hands with me, what the fuck a-Jiu, what the flying fuck have you implied about me when I’m not a fecking physician and not interested in becoming one, and if your goal was for me to never leave you, well congratulations ! I am here to stay ! »

Then she pushed him down on the main room’s hardwood floor, sprawled over him to keep him pinned and aggressively started to lick his face. He screamed, of course – such behaviour was good enough for slave brats knowing nothing about proper grooming, or so-called brothers trying to get a raise from a younger brat they wanted to annoy into compliance, but Immortal Masters couldn’t indulge into this kind of shamelessness, so fucking get up or I swear I will force you !

The Alchemist was a surprisingly fierce brawler for her small stature and her distaste of physical exertion, ready to bite and spit and loudly snarl and pull on hair. They wound up sharing the bed, half-naked with nothing more than their inner robes and covered in scratches, exhausted and purring to each other as they cuddled.

(and Shen Jiu cannot help the sheer joy humming in his whole being, I have to be stuck with you, she screamed at him, if your goal was for me to never leave you well congratulations, I am here to stay)

(here to stay, here to stay, she’s here to stay, the girl who came back in spite of nothing compelling her to do so, she’s here to stay)

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t track when exactly he fell asleep, but he certainly woke up before his shimei. He scrunched his nose at the stink now pervading his dwelling – upset and frustration and anger and vulnerability, belonging to someone else than himself for a change – but that was easy to fix as long as he opened the window and allowed the bad air to circulate.

Regarding the matter of clothes on the other hand… well, he certainly could sew the few tears in his robes, he wasn’t half-bad with a needle, but Chen Qingxu’s apron and skirt and blouse already had been irremediably stained and threadbare when she entered, and their brawl had been the last straw. These pitiful scraps were fated to be thrown on the trash heap very soon, later in the morning if Shen Qingqiu had his way.

It nonetheless meant the Alchemist would be left bereft of clothes – and Shen Qingqiu couldn’t very well loan his since he was taller and broader in the shoulders, she would look like a drunken mummer failing to impersonate a refined scholar, and the other Peak Lords would immediately jump on his case if they heard of it, a man giving garments to a woman had implications after all.

He was good to embroider and patch his clothes, but he couldn’t sew an entire outfit from his curtains or bedsheets. No, he needed help, something that gave him a toothache, and he knew where to find it – Fan Qingxing lived to clothe her fellow Peak Lords, she wouldn’t care about a messenger butterfly dragging her from her bed to Qing Jing with her sewing kit and bolts of silk and cotton for an emergency.

That was only when the Lei Zu Peak Lord was standing on his front door that Shen Qingqiu understood he might have committed a mistake. In his defense, it was early in the morning and he had just suffered an emotional peak. Truly, it was a minor miracle for him to have remembered he needed to cover himself with his false perfume or the chestnut-eyed, brown-haired woman in her black gown embroidered with scarlet poppies in the same shade as the crimson dot painted between her eyebrows would do worse than reek of sheer bafflement.

« Shen-shixiong, this shimei begs your forgiveness for her vulgar tongue, but what in the Eighteen Hells does this mean ? »

She was waving at the snoring Alchemist, currently drooling on a soft cushion, her hair covering a third of the bed with their wild tangles, shameless as the cat that devoured the young mistress’ pet songbird and is expecting praise for its hunting prowess.

Shen Qingqiu snapped his fan open to partially hide his face.

« Chen-shimei went to see this Master in a pretty foul mood, and we had a disagreement until very late in the night. »

« A disagreement » Fan Qingxing repeated, her forehead scrunched and her voice heavy with sarcasm.

Yes, that was a very compromising scene, wasn’t it ? Ah well, Shen Qingqiu’s reputation was trashed beyond any hope of salvage courtesy of Qi Qingqi and Liu Qingge, why would that matter to add yet another rumour to the pile ? And he wouldn’t have to deal with that anymore in a few years, when Yuan’er would mature and be ready to leave far away from the Tian Gong mountain range.

The seamstress still was staring at him, her painted mouth pinched to the point it appeared to be nothing but a scarlet brushstroke. Obviously she was judging him, but he didn’t ask for her to come at this end.

« As Fan-shimei will see, Chen-shimei is in dire need of new clothes » he pointed.

No need to say more, the Lei Zu Peak Lord immediately lighted up.

« Shen-shixiong, have you any idea of how long this pitiful seamstress has waited for our resident Alchemist to knock at my door and admit she might enjoy garments that wouldn’t be threadbare ? » she asked.

« … How long ? »

«  Since she was granted the status of Head Disciple on the Ling Shu Peak  » the seamstress hissed in a tone that combined unholy wrath and gleeful vindication. « For almost two decades, I have seen her running around, wearing rags the dirtiest vagrant wouldn’t touch with bare hands, because she thinks they’re still serviceable  ! »

Sweet jasmine was filling the air, and Shen Qingqiu suddenly wanted to run, his survival instinct screaming at him.

« Be a dear and close your door shut, Shen-shixiong, the Alchemist isn’t going anywhere without a full wardrobe . »

Chapter Text

« Sooo » Shi Qingxuan drawled with a laughing twinkle in his eyes, « I might have heard something about Fan-shimei finally having Chen-shijie at her inexistent mercy. »

The Alchemist flatly stared at the Cang Qiong Mountain sect’s resident drunkard. For once, Shi Qingxuan was in a very masculine mood, donning a tall silver haircrown and sober pale blue robes instead of jewellery and colourful gowns, his smoky perfume unenhanced by artificial means. The Zui Xian Peak Lord was hopelessly pretty when she wanted to be a female, but his masculine days saw him rather handsome – even Chen Qingxu could see it and she was born with an eunuch’s heart.

« If Qingxuan-shidi is hoping for someone he might use as his dress-up doll, he’s going to be rather disappointed » she bluntly told him, she was far too exhausted for this bullshit. « Does this Alchemist appear to be the kind of female who spends her time wondering what shade of nail varnish would suit her better ? »

Shi Qingxuan blinked, then a smile softly crept on his lips.

« Chen-shijie » he said, and he said it with such tenderness it was nauseating, « have you ever read a spring novel from the most yellow variety you can imagine ? The trashy kind in which the dishonoured maiden gets a life-affirming change of clothes and some makeup, she then attends the festival or gathering at the Imperial Palace and everyone is saying, by my Ancestor’s bones, but you are beautiful, or, this is the first time I have ever truly seen you, and the maiden is described as even more gorgeous in her ephemereal beauty, and fifteen pages later she decides it would be a fantastic idea to indulge in badly-written papapa with the hero, or maybe the villain because they saw her and since they have noticed she’s a girl now, they have to act on that ? »

Chen Qingxu’s head threatened to spin from the verbal assault she had suffered, but she nonetheless answered :

« I don’t read fiction. Only manuals. »

« That’s sad » Shi Qingxuan pouted, « and it means we have no shared point of reference. But ! I won’t have to crush your hopes and dreams, because this beautiful maiden who only needs a smidge of help for her womanhood to blossom for everyone to admire ? That’s not you. The Queen Mother of the West herself couldn’t make a fairy of Chen Qingxu. Sometimes I actually think you deliberately prayed to be born ugly before your mother could deliver you. »

« Why, thank you » the Ling Shu Peak Lord earnestly answered.

Chen Qingxu wasn’t a great beauty or any kind of beauty, it was a truth she had been aware of since she was very young with her mother frowning every time she looked at Xiao Mao, obviously baffled by the fact she whelped such a plain-looking child. The former Xian Shu Peak Lord had tittered in a sorry tone the first time they saw each other, obviously sorry for the future Ling Shu Head Disciple.

Chen Qingxu never understood why people felt sorry for her. She spent her days locked in her lab with fumes and chemicals, how useful would beauty have been to her in her chosen career path ? And after being introduced to the whores living in the Red Warm Pavilion, after hearing them lament on the circumstances that would lead a girl to sell her body because she was desperate to avoid starving in the gutter, the Alchemist had been comforted in her opinion.

Who wanted to be pretty when men would use that to abuse your body ? When it would fade one day and force you to rely on your wits and your connections instead ? Chen Qingxu was plain and because of that, nobody would even dream about raping her. How was she supposed to not see that as a blessing ?

« So ! » Shi Qingxuan spoke again, still disgustingly cheerful. « I didn’t brave your lair in order to see if you could be pretty. I came to see what kind of clothes our dearest Fan-shimei bestowed upon your ingrate self – and really, a full wardrobe  ? »

The female zhongyong grimaced, her smell souring with embarrassment.

« She stole my key and threw everything she found in my clothing chest to the flames » she couldn’t help but complain. « And when I say everything, I mean absolutely everything . »

Well, not actually everything – her heavy duty aprons and gloves and cloaks had been spared from the Lei Zu Peak Lord’s frenzy, mostly because they were sturdy and functional and as such weren’t as damaged as the rest. If Fan Qingxing had dared to destroy them, however, Chen Qingxu would have gladly strangled her – it was a bitch and a half to alchemically treat leather with potions in order to turn it impervious to damage caused by elixirs unless one was facing a Divine-level poison,

« Are your new undergarments comfy ? » Shi Qingxuan inquired, and the asshole genuinely was curious. « Because I hate when I wear ramie down there, it always chafes and you cannot really scratch the itch because that wouldn’t be classy, especially when you’re attending a meeting and can you imagine Zhangmen-shixiong’s reaction to that ? »

« That’s not the point ! » Chen Qingxu fumed. « She took my things, and she threw them in the fire because she assumed she knew better ! What would Qingxuan-shidi say if this Alchemist burned his pretty gowns because he was born with a cock, this one wonders ? »

There, the Zui Xian Peak Lord was frowning, finally understanding how dire the situation was.

« This shidi wouldn’t be very happy with Chen-shijie » he confessed. « But that’s not the same at all. »

« Really ? » the Ling Shu Peak Lord snorted. « How so ? »

« Because Chen-shijie wouldn’t do that, no matter how much she was angry with this Qingxuan. For all her claims of having no heart, Chen-shijie isn’t a cruel person » the gender-confused Peak Lord answered.

Chen Qingxu blinked. She… wasn’t expecting that.

« I am far from being kind » she reminded him.

« And also far from being mean for the sake of meanness » Shi Qingxuan insisted. « That’s just not Chen-shijie at all. When she’s mean, she usually has a good motive for it. »

Shite, he wasn’t actually wrong, was he ? The Alchemist never truly cared about her fellow Peak Lords or even mankind as a rule – she certainly never cared about making them suffer on a whim, it would ask far too much energy on her part and she already was exhausted after her alchemical research and experiments, she wouldn’t waste her precious enthusiasm for such ridiculous matters.

Alright, her poisoning this bitch Qi Qingqi and this brute Liu Qingge was verging dangerously close from pettiness, but they well and truly wore on her nerves. Also, they would have been complete assholes to Shen Qingqiu right after his comeback, and the Qing Jing Peak Lord had a gift for making Chen Qingxu lose her wits.

« Well ? Are you going to show me your new wardrobe one day ? »

The Alchemist balefully eyeballed the Zui Xian Peak Lord who gave her a dazzling smile, batting his eyelashes to soften her.

« Why the fuck is Qingxuan-shidi that obsessed with my clothes ? Don’t you have enough on your own ? » she groused.

« One of mankind’s greatest pleasures » the gender-confused Immortal Master seriously declared, « is to nose in your friends’ things. Even better if they don’t want to let you. »

Sometimes, just sometimes, Chen Qingxu wanted for the gods to never have created mankind.

Chapter Text

From the moment his Shizun told him he would be the next Qiong Ding Peak Lord and Sect Leader, Yue Qingyuan had been aware it was a long and painful road stretching in front of him. Not only because nothing on this path hinted at him having a happy future with Xiao Jiu, not only because he was qianyuan and would be forever unworthy of his exalted position in the eyes of the jianghu, but because his fellow Peak Lords were – eccentric, that was the polite word for them.

As a former street urchin, Yue Qi would bluntly call them a bunch of rabid loons. That was a very well-hidden truth of any great sect, the path to immortality asked for extraordinary souls to tread it, anything mundane and prone to common sense tended to be quickly annihilated by the trials needed to go further on the road leading to the silver bridge and the Upper Realm. Cultivation cared for nothing but the strength of one’s body and mind and heart, everything else could be waved away.

Combined with entitlement issues and the obligation to share a mountain range with people as strong-headed and kooky as you were, it was the perfect recipe for a disaster. And Yue Qingyuan was the chef tasked with preventing the recipe to ever reach this point.

It was tiresome and it would never end until the Qing generation picked successors and it actually worsened in the three latest years – since the newt culling that had forced Shen Qingqiu in seclusion to recover and saw Chen Qingxu take an unexpected interest in people she had been bent on ignoring before. Now Liu Qingge and Qi Qingqi were blatantly hostile and seized any opportunity to make it known, Shang Qinghua obviously was waiting to bolt away in Dongying from his twitching and stuttering, Mu Qingfang had the frustrated mien of one who cracked a puzzle open to be rewarded by a fiendishly cryptic enigma hidden within, Song Qingshi refused to leave his Peak because he wanted for his martial siblings to stop being dickheads – a tall order and one that would be easier to fulfill if the Ku Xing Peak Lord tried to help instead of sulking in the spiritual caves – Shi Qingxuan treated the whole mess as if it was theater and he a mere spectator that would comment and drink wine on the sidelines, and Fan Qingxing was the newest victim after she got granted the long-waited opportunity to inflict a makeover upon Chen Qingxu, not even bothering to hide how smug she was about the matter.

Yue Qingyuan very much wished he had never accepted Shizun’s nomination of him as Qiong Ding’s Head Disciple, especially since he had the dreadful feeling it was only the beginning. Maybe he could still run away – he would have to beg Xiao Jiu to follow him in exile – but would the other man agree to leave Qing Jing and renunce the power he wielded as one of the great names in the jianghu, after working so hard to rise from the gutters he was born into ? Especially if Yue Qingyuan, the qianyuan who couldn’t protect anything that mattered, the boy who couldn’t even keep his word because he was too weak and stupid, was asking such a sacrifice from him.

There was no escaping Yue Qingyuan’s failures, no matter how far he went. At least he got to see Xiao Jiu if he stayed at Cang Qiong – even it meant enduring the other Peak Lords and their mood swings that grew ever more elaborate and infuriating.

The Qiong Ding Peak Lord actually pondered over the possibility of asking Mu Qingfang for some soothing incense to stave his headaches as he listened Wei Qingwei and Qi Qingqi finally hashing an agreement over the spoils brought back from the Ever Verdant Grove by their disciples – they could have done this on their own if they had been mature enough for Yue Qingyuan to not have to serve as a translator, because the Immortal blacksmith stubbornly believed in terse talking while the fairy wouldn’t stop making hints and got mad when she wasn’t understood.

It was rather mean for the Sect Leader to be happy about Shang Qinghua recording the meeting, as he wasn’t the only one to suffer this inanity – the logistician looked rather wild-eyed, more than usual, was he getting enough sleep ? The An Ding Peak Lord did enjoy guzzling sweet tea to keep himself energized, and he had mastered his qi to the point insomnia wasn’t a genuine health problem anymore, but it nonetheless was good for the mind to enjoy some rest…

As the qianyuan considered having a talk with his shidi, said shidi had copied the final agreement four times – one for Qiong Ding, one for Xian Shu, one for Wan Jian and one for An Ding – and was distributing them.

Qi Qingqi frowned as she read the scroll deposed in her hands.

« Is something wrong ? » Yue Qingyuan politely asked, internally praying for it to not be the case – after a shichen spent in this room, he very much ached for a long stroll in the gardens.

« Hm ? Oh, no » the female qianyuan absentmindedly answered. « But I didn’t know Shang-shidi enjoyed writing. »

The logistician stared at her with bleary eyes.

« What ? What are you talking about – oh... »

Well, exhaustion would lead to mistakes – Shang Qinghua apparently gave the wrong scroll to the fairy who looked rather amused by the unexpected offering. On the other hand, the An Ding Peak Lord suddenly paled.

« Qi-shijie » the mousy Peak Lord managed to choke, « please give this back. »

« No way » she fired back, « or have you forgotten my Xian Shu Peak encourages people to write ? Maybe I shall submit this to our monthly meeting, my girls certainly would enjoy criticizying it... »

It happened almost too swiftly for a cultivator’s eye – far superior to a mortal eye – to follow, Shang Qinghua lunging forwards and ripping the scroll from Qi Qingqi’s hands, pivoting on his heel in order to escape by the open door and the An Ding Peak Lord was average for flying but nobody could beat him in a foot race…

Only for Wei Qingwei to block the way, grasping his mousy, much smaller martial brother by his arms with huge hands muscled by steelwork…

Shang Qinghua shrieked .

It wasn’t his usual panicked scream when he stressed to the point of hysterics – no, it was a sound Yue Qi remembered from his slave brat days, when a merchant or a slaver or some noble hit a starving, desperate urchin somewhere already bruised black and blue, it was a sound Qi-ge himself had uttered when a dull pain suddenly flared back to life with blinding intensity and he couldn’t see anymore.

And it ripped its way free from Shang Qinghua’s throat.

The logistician crumpled in Wei Qingwei’s embrace, looking like a child’s broken doll as the blacksmith lifted him in a bridal carry.

« Wei-shidi, this Sect Leader think our shidi will greatly benefit from visiting Qian Cao Peak » Yue Qingyuan said.

The Wan Jian Peak Lord grunted his understanding before storming outside the building, leaving the Qiong Ding Peak Lord alone with a gaping fairy.

« Qi-shimei ought to be ashamed of herself » the male qianyuan mildly declared. « One does not rummage in another’s things without verbal, explicit permission from the owner. »

« … It was only teasing » she mumbled, her perfume soured by confusion and upset and growing fury.

Qi Qingqi’s fury was a seething, boiling thing she kept firmly imprisoned in a pot, barely raising the lid to allow burning droplets to splash the one that roused her anger. Yet today, Yue Qingyuan could taste her desire to throw the whole pot’s contents at the head of the one responsible for Shang Qinghua’s injury.

She might not like the logistician beyond acknowledging he was useful, but he still belonged to Cang Qiong. And Qi Qingqi was qianyuan – when the pack was threatened, qianyuan would led the attack against the would-be agressor.

Yue Qingyuan likely would have to command her to spare the guilty party – he couldn’t very well make an example of someone assaulting another Peak Lord if the target was already dead, could he ?

Chapter Text

Mu Qingfang was unfortunately used to his martial siblings coming on Qian Cao without taking an appointment first, be it under their own power or because someone else dragged them in the dispensary. Shang Qinghua currently belonged to the latter category, pitifully whining and frantically swearing he was fine, really, while Wei Qingwei dumped him on the daybed reserved for giving physicals.

Judging from the logistician’s paleness and the sweat beading on his forehead, he wasn’t fine at all – why was the physician doomed to look after people refusing to take care of themselves, one would believe it was punishment for his former life’s sins. Maybe he sold his parents into slavery ?

« So, what happened ? » the healer inquired, staring at the mousy Peak Lord and doing his best to exhude as much calming pheromones as his glands would allow him – a nice little trick, but one he wouldn’t teach someone barely starting Core Formation since it was about manipulating hormones and that could have nasty consequences on a still-developing body without access to a large pool of qi.

« Nothing ! » Shang Qinghua immediately squeaked, cowering on the daybed and stinking of rotten peanuts. « Absolutely nothing happened ! »

« He shrieked when this one grabbed him by the upper arm » Wei Qingwei answered in his low voice, his eyebrows furrowed under the thick cloth covering his head – the blacksmith enjoyed his headscarves, especially when he was busy forging a blade and was at risk of sparks igniting his hair. « I think he’s already injured but he wouldn’t tell me if I am right. »

« Because there’s nothing » the logistician stubbornly insisted, « so if Wei-shixiong would let me go back to my Peak, my students are waiting for me… ! »

« Was it a loud shriek ? » Mu Qingfang asked over his shidi’s loud denials.

« The kind indicating there is something hurting very bad, yes » the Wan Jian Peak Lord asserted.

The physician sighed.

« Well, this one shall beseech my patient to put his overcoat aside, because that sounds bad enough for me to order a full physical instead of merely taking Shang-shidi’s wrist. »

The An Ding Peak Lord burst into tears and wailed so loudly the glass panels in the windows vibrated in a very alarming manner, Mu Qingfang couldn’t help the grudging awe since it was quite the unusual application of qi but he nonetheless reminded the logistician he would send him the bill for brand-new windows if these shattered because of Shang Qinghua’s hysterics. It did the trick for the wail, but the mousy Peak Lord still kept crying and begging for his martial brothers to leave him alone while his jacket was taken away, soon followed by several layers of robes – why was the man wearing so much clothing, one would believe it was the worst winter in human memory…

Then the innermost layer fell, leaving Shang Qinghua stripped to the waist and shivering, and Mu Qingfang inhaled a deep breath from shock while Wei Qingwei choked.

« … Who did that to you ? » the blacksmith asked, his voice flat as the qianyuan registered the sight in front of him.

It was rather ugly. The reddish-black contusion covered the An Ding Peak Lord’s right shoulder and crept on his arm, obviously the reason why he shrieked in pain, but it wasn’t alone in disfiguring the logistician’s body – at least half a dozen bruises in faded green and yellow were scattered on the torso, and they ominously looked like hand and foot-prints.

Mu Qingfang knew a golden core would prevent most bruises, since the body was reinforced beyond the mundane standards – even a weak cultivator who focused on their spiritual development rather than martial training would emerge none for the worse from a brawl with a low-level demon, or the marks would heal in barely a shichen.

These bruises weren’t fresh at all, and the amount of trauma needed for a Peak Lord’s flesh to be still healing the harm – oh. Oh, it was ongoing.

Someone tremendously powerful had been hurting Shang Qinghua for a very long time, the muscles and organs remembering beatings that started when the logistician was nothing but an outer Disciple.

Cold clarity was rising within Mu Qingfang’s mind, the kind of cold clarity he mustered in order to properly hack an infected limb off.

Gangrene or bully, there wasn’t that much of a difference – the disease needed to be removed as soon as possible for the patient to heal.

« Shang- shidi  » Wei Qingwei spoke anew, his voice still flat but it was the flatness of the ocean before a storm flood. «  Who . Did that. To you . »

The mousy Peak Lord sniffed and unexpectedly glared at the blacksmith – for a cultivator with a rather weak core and all his muscles focused on his legs to let him flee every time he was facing danger, it was an extremely fierce expression, one that would have persuaded a charging bull to take another road under pain of very damaging consequences.

« Why the fuck do you care, uh ? M-Mu-shidi already knows how long it h-has been – no one ever n-noticed until now – so why won’t you fuck off and leave me alone ? I am not dying ! »

« As Shang-shidi has pointed, we have noticed now  » the physician said as he retrieved ointment and dressings. « And even if you’re not dying, you are in pain and you never bothered about telling this healer about it. This Qingfang is there to help Shang-shidi, if only he would allow me to do my work. »

The logistician shrinked into himself, his smell tinted with upset and a whiff of genuine contrition, then sniffed again.

« … Still doesn’t see w-why Wei-shixiong and Yue-zhangmen are getting pissed a-about it. You don’t even l-like me, and if y-you try to claim otherwise, I w-will debone you like a c-chicken. »

Wei Qingwei snorted in front of the strange threat, but refused to let himself be deterred.

« I have no particular liking for Shang-shidi » he confessed, « because Shang-shidi always appears he’s up to no good, and this blacksmith cannot for the life of him understand why his martial brother is enjoying the things he does... »

The Wan Jian Peak Lord sighed.

« Does it mean I wish harm or death to Shang-shidi ? I don’t, and if anyone is tormenting him, then I will chase this person until they learn to not assault one of Cang Qiong’s Peak Lords. We are the Qing generation, Shang Qinghua’s enemies are my enemies, and Yue-zhangmen’s, and Mu Qingfang’s, even Qi Qingqi’s. It’s that simple. »

The mousy Peak Lord had screwed his eyes shut, his lips wobbling in the way of children biting their grief to prevent anyone from hearing their distress.

« No » the logistician ultimately whispered, « it’s not. »

« Give us a name. We will make it simple » Wei Qingwei answered.

But Shang Qinghua wouldn’t say another word, merely laying on the daybed and allowing Mu Qingfang to tend to his bruises, at least. Such behaviour was more suited to a mercilessly abused slave, one who lost the very hope that things would be better one day because the master just wouldn’t drop dead and stop tormenting him.

Shang Qinghua wasn’t a slave, though. He was a Peak Lord from the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, and it seemed his martial siblings would have to remind him of this tidbit until he fully accepted he deserved help.

His abuser also would have to be reminded of this fact, of course. In a very permanent, very lethal way, of course. Nothing else would do.

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua was wholly and completely screwed, and not in the fun way – it wasn’t the kind of date for which his partner would remember his favourite lube flavour, no, his partner was a full-blown bastard who just wanted a sex doll made of meat and refused to put a condom because it scratched funny without any potential worry about inflicting his gonorrhea upon said meaty doll.

The other Peak Lords knew. Well, they actually didn’t know everything – thank fuck for this, or Shang Qinghua would have to run and hide in Mobei-jun’s palace, and he would be unable to fulfill his traitor plotline, and the System would force him into punishment protocol and Shang Qinghua refused to live through that again.

Yes, he was a coward. But he would to see anyone being forced within the original Shang Qinghua’s body right before Mobei-jun strangled him and threw his body in the snow for the predators roaming the Northern Demon Mountains to consume, aware all the while and utterly powerless to protect yourself, and not break.

It happened only once, when his family in this world sold him to the former An Ding Peak Lord and he understood which character he was intended to become – the boy that would be later named Shang Qinghua had waited midnight to attempt an escape, hoping the Immortal Master wouldn’t care about losing an underfed brat, he still could buy another, there was a lot of impoverished families begging for an opportunity to discard a worthless mouth !

When the morning sun rose, the cultivator had led a pale, shaking brat that could barely walk on his own to the Tian Gong mountain range, as a menial first and a disciple later.

Shang Qinghua was a coward, because he was afraid of pain, and the System knew that, and Shang Qinghua couldn’t escape the System because it was some eldritch interdimensional abomination refusing to follow the rules written for breaking possession or parasitism in Proud Immortal Demon Way. He couldn’t escape the traitor plotline.

(he’s going to betray everyone in Cang Qiong and they will hate him so much and he deserves it, he deserves every single negative feeling they ever felt towards him because he wrote this world, he wrote every disaster and calamity and war, he did that and he never thought it would be real for someone but it became real and it’s impossible for him to escape this truth)

(he’s so fucking sorry)

So he played his role, and that meant he had to stay hidden or he wouldn’t be able to cause the Endless Abyss to open while the Immortal Alliance Conference was happening – no matter what parodies would claim, a devil in plain sight would be quickly booted out because people misliked the ones who were up to no good and you would have to be terminally stupid to keep yourself open to a backstabber !

But now, the other Peak Lords knew there was something very wrong with poor little Qinghua, and they wouldn’t leave him alone to plot their betrayal, and that wouldn’t do at all !

Well, at least they were firmly convinced he was a wretched, pitiful victim – courtesy of his many, many bruises that would often remind him of their existence when he wasn’t moving carefully, and by the way he needed to send a nice gift to Mu Qingfang for his ointment because this writer felt a lot better after using it and numbing his nerves !

Playing the victim card, it was a pretty good strategy – until well-intentioned people decided they needed to fix your problems in order to feel good about themselves, because a hero unable to rescue hapless shmucks isn’t that much of a hero, and when your problem was an ice demon kicking the shit out of you for being a lazy slave and you lived in a place that would dish the death penalty for speaking to a demon… yes, it sucked balls. Massive, hairy ones.

On the other hand, maybe Shang Qinghua could use that and discreetly hint at his King that it might be a good idea for your Highness to stop beating on his pet cultivator ? Since a sect actually noticing that would be pretty pissed about the matter, and bent on murdering the demon responsible for the bruises in the most painful way they could imagine – and the xianxia style could be very inventive with the death penalty, enough for this Airplane to actually lose appetite while he was watching series on his laptop.

Yes, Mobei-jun was a very strong and powerful demon, not the strongest ever because this crown would forever belong to the Heavenly Demonic strain and his King was an ice demon through and through but he still was one among the great names in the Lower Realm. And all this martial might wouldn’t mean anything in front of several irate Immortal Masters from the strongest sect in the jianghu – a tiger will be devoured by a swarm of angry ants, after all.

Shang Qinghua personally thought his King was more of a snow leopard, regal and aloof and utterly magnificent in his lack of pity and his strength, and he would feel rather sad if Mobei-jun came to die – as you would be sad about waking up from a beautiful dream in which you have met the perfect man for you. So he would do his utmost to prevent the two sides of his life from colliding and annihilating each other, since the consequences would be catastrophic for him and Mobei-jun and the plotline and maybe the Cang Qiong Mountain sect, it rather depended from how many Peak Lords the ice demon would take with him in the grave.

It wasn’t easy to keep mum, because the Tian Gong Twelve Peaks as a whole had been informed of his situation and when people weren’t treading on eggshells around him, you would believe he was made of freaking glass, they tried to make him spill his guts and obtain hints about his abuser.

Even his own minions – disciples ! They were his disciples ! – were doing it ! That, and he had to soothe more than a few students who tearfully apologized for not seeing he needed help, when they were children and really weren’t supposed to shoulder this kind of responsibility, he was the grown up there and he was supposed to be the protector instead of the protectorate !

The children still cried, and Shang Qinghua found himself scenting them and distributing handkerchiefs to wipe snotty cheeks and drinking a lot of tea because it was quite calming to drink it with someone else. He even shared his melon seeds – sometimes you would feel hopelessly hungry after crying because hey, that was energy-consuming to produce a gallon of tears – and named An Ding’s pet rat – the one Chen Qingxu gifted him on a whim, Hei Jun has insisted it ought to be called Huahua and everyone that wasn’t Shang Qinghua had approved – the resident therapist, just cuddle it and you will feel better !

This Qinghua still believed rats were inherently dirty, but his cute, hopelessly incomprehensible minions – disciples ! He couldn’t call them anything else than his disciples ! – kept the rodent clean and well-groomed, so there was very low odds of unleashing the plague on An Ding Peak. That would be awful, especially when you had watched a documentary about the Great Plague of Jingshi directly contributing to the Ming dynasty’s collapse and suffered nightmares for a week afterwards.

Shang Qinghua was afraid of pain, and a plague causing people to vomit blood surely would cause a lot of it, and he wasn’t interested on being at ground zero for when the epidemic would awake. He would flee long before it could be triggered.

Running away like a coward, that was what he did the best after all.

Chapter Text

When he heard Shang Qinghua apparently was victimized since his disciple days, Shen Qingqiu’s knee-jerk reaction had been nothing but sheer contempt and disgust.

Wasn’t the rat supposed to be a Peak Lord ? Why was he acting as a wretched slave, instead of fighting back against the one that dared to beat him black and blue ? Eighteen fucking Hells, Xiao Jiu had fought back as much as possible when he was nothing in the streets with the slavers and nothing in the Qiu manor with Qiu Jianluo and nothing on the roads with Wu Yanzi, and yes it took time and subtlety but it could be done.

Shang Qinghua apparently did nothing but hide his injuries and now that someone has noticed and raised the alarm, he had the gall to complain about it – the dumbass really couldn’t see how it would ruin Cang Qiong’s reputation in the jianghu if it was known one of their esteemed Immortal Masters had the backbone of an overcooked noodle and couldn’t even stand up for himself !

Yes, Shen Qingqiu felt no sympathy whatsoever towards the An Ding Peak Lord – he already pissed his empathy away for Yue Qingyuan, but if he had retained a few meager droplets of it then he certainly wouldn’t have wasted them on the logistician, especially after seeing how much the ingrate refused to be saved when he obviously was floundering and unable to reach out of the hole he willingly jumped in.

Nonetheless, Shang Qinghua’s utter stupidity gave him a very good opportunity to leave Cang Qiong – he claimed he wanted to discreetly inquire about demons moving around the mountain range because nothing but a high-level demon would be able to actually injure a Peak Lord, even one as feeble as the An Ding Peak Lord, and he would do that since such a demon would pose a genuine threat to Cang Qiong, but it wouldn’t be his primary goal.

No, he would use these three months to hide in the Red Warm Pavilion, make a few appearances as the Veiled Beauty and dote upon the flowers and Yuan’er, he deserved the rest after several weeks of donning his Immortal Master persona.

The more time went, the more it heavily weighted on Shen Qingqiu to keep his disguise intact. Once or twice, he had to trample the urge to flee a meeting and jump on Xiu Ya to go and burrow himself in this tiny bedroom with its cracked plaster walls and the bed suffocating beneath the plush cushions and the embroidered quilts.

He had to remind himself he couldn’t do that, not yet, not before ensuring nobody would follow him to ruin the fragile happy future he started to envision for the little family of two he and Yuan’er were. He still needed to be patient.

It was hard to remember these justifications when he was on Qing Jing Peak, and it was harder still when he was in the Red Warm Pavilion, greeted by his tiny child and several flowers who bore cheerful grins at his sight.

« Master Shen finally decided to come back, then ? Come on, sit and tell me how fares my granddaughter ! Does this grandmother need to break the good wine out and lament on her family line losing face, or will she be allowed to toast to her little one’s success ? »

« Yingying is doing well » the kunze reassured Tanhua as he carefully lowered himself on the flat cushion waiting for him besides the older courtesan. « A smidge too bold, maybe, she almost jumped in the ornamental pond because she thought she could see frog spawn and wanted to capture a few of these to be raised in her bedroom. »

« Goodness » Tanhua sighed, a twinkle of laugh sparkling in her brown eyes. « Was she very wet when she was fished out ? »

« Very » the kunze confirmed, « but she was more distressed about not having caught tadpoles at all. And learning she wouldn’t be allowed to feed the carps since she had disturbed their home. »

Truly, Ning Yingying’s priorities were utterly baffling, and Shen Qingqiu marveled at her blood kinship with the steady Tanhua.

Yuan’er crawled on the kunze’s lap, forcing Shen Qingqiu to focus on the present instead of losing time in musings about the generational differences.

« Heard a-Niang and auntie Tanhua discussing about someone » he admitted, his brows furrowed above his deep black eyes. « Are you replacing me ? »

« What ? Never » Shen Qingqiu immediately snapped, gathering the silly brat in his embrace and aggressively scenting him. « Why would you ever think that  ! »

« A-Niang is helping to raise auntie Tanhua’s granddaughter » Yuan’er fired back, « but he’s not raising me. So Yuan’er is asking. »

Oh. Oh, shite. Shen Qingqiu very much wanted to kick himself – what the fuck was he thinking, children were insecure as fuck, more paranoid and jealous than an aging first wife ogling the pretty young thing her husband just bought and brought back home – of course Yuan’er would believe the worst of his mother, Shen Qingqiu was always doing everything wrong, unable to love someone right, unable to earn their love because he would constantly make mistakes…

And the worst thing – Yuan’er didn’t even look angry, he just appeared resigned to the fact his mother would cast him away for another brat.

Shen Qingqiu truly was a failure of a parent, wasn’t he ?

« Sweetheart, this isn’t that » Tanhua’s soft tone intervened to interrupt his spiraling into self-loathing. « My little girl, well I would tend to her myself if I could but… as you can see, she’s not there and your auntie cannot leave the brothel. But your mother is allowed, and he decided to help me, but he’s not forgetting Yingying is my little girl and you are his . »

The boy scrunched his nose, hints of rot threatening to encroach on his sweet floral perfume.

« Why isn’t she there ? »

« Because she was taken by another etablishment » Shen Qingqiu claimed in a burst of inspiration, « and one of their most known women, she really doesn’t like the girls of the Red Warm Pavilion. »

Was he ashamed of implying Qi Qingqi was a whore ? Quite frankly, the kunze believed the female qianyuan wasn’t respectable enough to be compared to Tanhua and the older courtesan’s younger sisters in the flesh market – at least the flowers were classy, well-educated and wouldn’t outright insult someone even when said person genuinely deserved it.

« A-Niang belongs to the Red Warm Pavilion too » Yuan’er pointed, keeping his nose scrunched as if he wanted to turn in a furious rabbit.

« Yes, but the Veiled Beauty is our best courtesan » Wu Lin pointed – that girl had no qualms eavesdropping when she thought it would lead her to gather blackmail material or juicy gossip, something Shen Qingqiu had encouraged but currently he wondered if it had been such a good idea, « so this bitch cannot do anything worse than complain or our dearly beloved a-Jiu will sick his legion of worshippers against her. »

« Oh ! » Yuan’er sighed. « Makes sense, then. »

Somewhere in the first floor, laughter was mingling with a lullaby played on the xiao, and the smell of cheap wine rice was floating upwards to mix with the cinnamon incense.

« Say, a-Niang... »

« Yes ? » Shen Qingqiu asked, letting his son straddle his lap in order to look at him in the eye, these pretty dark eyes so deep an inky black they wouldn’t even reflect light.

(it’s hard for Shen Jiu to look Yue Qingyuan in the eyes nowaday, these twin lakes in which he would drown if he was allowed to choose his demise)

« When auntie’s granddaughter won’t need you anymore… are you coming back here ? For good ? »

Shen Qingqiu hated promises, knowing how easily broken they were. But that was Yuan’er waiting for a reassurance, and the kunze couldn’t bring himself to expose the boy further to the world’s true ugliness. Not tonight.

« I am making plans going in this direction » he said, and was rewarded by a dazzling smile, beautiful as the rain falling after several weeks of drought.

There was nothing he wouldn’t dare, for this beautiful smile.

Chapter Text

Ning-shimei was sulking. Apparently, she disliked Shizun being away – to every Qing Jing Peak resident’s slight bafflement, since the Immortal Master Shen Qingqiu wasn’t exactly loved. Sure, he was respected for embodying everything a scholar ought to be, and for holding himself to the same merciless standards he expected his students and hallmasters to uphold, some of them quietly seethed and loathed him for his acidic tongue and shameless refusal to apologize for anything he did or asked, but Shen Qingqiu wasn’t a likeable person. He just – wasn’t.

Ming Fan idly wondered what was the reason for this. He had first believed it was a consequence of forming a golden core and rising far above the level most cultivators in the jianghu couldn’t dream to reach, but after several weeks spent to familiarizing with his seniors and having brief glimpses of his martial uncles and aunts, the youth had concluded Immortality did nothing to erode one’s ability to bond with people.

Maybe it was a matter of personal preference ? The Ling Shu Peak Lord was infamous for her staunch refusal to see the other Peak Lords as anything else but annoying neighbours she was unable to avoid no matter how much she tried to stay away, after all.

Anyway, Ning-shimei sulking, because Shizun wasn’t there and she missed him. Actually, genuinely missed him, in the same way one would miss their mother departed for a pilgrimage and not expected to come back home before undergoing long and costly cleansing rituals to ensure blessings would keep showering the family.

« Xiao-shimei ought to watch her manners » Ming Fan had tried to reason her. « Shizun is Shizun , not your favourite auntie ! »

Ning-shimei had scrunched her nose, looking like a stunned rabbit that just found a hair ribbon and couldn’t understand why humans would invent something like that.

« But he kinda… feels like it ? » she had argued, her tone puzzled as she obviously was just as startled by the reveal as he was. « He’s not… he’s Shizun, yes, but at the same time, he’s more . You know ? »

No, Ming Fan didn’t know, and their senior martial siblings didn’t know either, and they wanted to swallow their tongue the first time Ning-shimei had boldly walked to Shen Qingqiu and grabbed his flowing green sleeve to show him a picture she drew, proud and happy and utterly unaware she wasn’t supposed to do that with a man she wasn’t related to !

And Shizun let her  ! Shizun allowed her to pester him ! Shizun frowned in front of her messy braids and combed her bangs away from her eyes with his fingers !

Ming Fan had heard two hallmasters frantically whispering it was positively scandalous for Shen Qingqiu to indulge in such interactions with his young, female disciple when he obviously was her much older teacher. It would have been alright if the Qing Jing Peak Lord had been female, one couldn’t castigate a woman for showing maternal instincts towards her wide-eyed pupil, but Shen Qingqiu was very much male and even if he lacked wrong intentions – Ming Fan felt deeply upset when he imagined people gossiping about his Shizun entertaining impure cravings when one would see how bullshit it was after seeing the aloof Immortal utterly consumed by his duties to Cang Qiong – it nonetheless wouldn’t prevent the scene from looking less than fully wholesome.

And Ning-shimei couldn’t see anything wrong with her own behaviour because she had been surrounded by females in her childhood, her father’s first wife and her own mother and her older sisters, her father loving but engrossed in his business and not always remembering his youngest daughter when everyone else in the household clamored for his attention, and Ning-shimei thus saw nothing wrong in interacting with Shizun as she had so far interacted with her older, female authority figures.

Some nice shijies pulled the girl aside in order to explain her the difference, but Ning-shimei seemed unable to actually register the words as she stubbornly insisted to keep behaving this way, apparently thinking it would be alright as long as Shizun himself wasn’t telling her to stop – and how was anyone supposed to call Shen Qingqiu on his utter lack of property ?! The aloof scholar would tear them to shreds – would flay them alive with his tongue alone and send them crying for the hills well before they would be able to utter half of the first sentence !

It was a disaster waiting to explode in Qing Jing Peak’s collective face, and Ming Fan rather wanted to sob thinking about it. Especially since he finally had started to believe he might actually have a future as a good cultivator !

Yes, he told his parents and brothers he would earn a spiritual sword, but it was part of his pitch to persuade them to let him go. Yet Shizun – he didn’t care about Ming Fan’s opinion about his worthiness, he cared about putting his disciple to work and making him work until he finally produced results.

Shizun was a heartless slaver who sneered at justifications and excuses and whipped his students when they lamented their lack of abilities, telling them to find a way or to make one of their own but he would see them toiling until he decided they wouldn’t shame Qing Jing by their prowess, or kicked them in a ditch to die because they truly were hopeless and wouldn’t amount to more than a walking, breathing corpse no matter how long they lived.

It was harsh and it was stern and it was merciless, and Ming Fan just wanted so badly to believe in Shen Qingqiu’s cold words after the man first gave him homework to do, a summary on the previous dynasty’s fall for the day immediately after.

You won’t fail. You are not allowed to fail, because I won’t permit it. Now, you’re supposed to start your research for information, so why are you still gaping at this Master ? Scram !

Shen Qingqiu wasn’t someone many people would like or even tolerate, he actually was loathed by more than a few disciples from the other Peaks and on his own, but he would force the world to respect him, and for that Ming Fan couldn’t help but admire the man in spite of his rather questionable decisions on the moral and social aspects.

A teacher for a day, a father for a lifetime – Ming Fan was deficient regarding a lot of things, to his unending shame, but none would ever accuse him from being unfilial and slow to fulfill his duty towards the ones that gave him the tools to face the world – to think that maybe, it was possible for him to jump and land on the Moon as long as he worked on that.

So he would lament over Ning-shimei brooding instead of working on her calligraphy – the girl loved calligraphy, she called that embroidery with a brush and paper instead of thread and a needle, Ming Fan couldn’t understand her reasoning but when it came to xiao-shimei, her reasoning was very hard to crack even for seasoned hallmasters that saw several intakes of eager and more or less adjusted children and teenagers coming to Qing Jing in order to learn the scholar’s path – and he would keep lecturing her on socially appropriate behaviour, but the way Shizun’s mouth twitched when the girl babbled at him about this and that ?

Well, Ming Fan would be happy for Shen Qingqiu, because the man really wasn’t smiling a lot – actually, he didn’t seem able to emote a lot beyond cold annoyance and irritation, fitting for one with such a flat, colourless smell.

That only made this almost-smile even more precious, and Ming Fan wouldn’t be the one to ruin that.

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu was rather particular about letting someone else enter in his bamboo house. Sometimes he would be alright with a disciple knocking on his door, especially if said disciple was female, for delivering homework or a message from Yue-zhangmen or another Peak Lord, sometimes he would snarl at finding somebody on the threshold and it was strongly advised to flee and come back later after frantically praying for the Immortal Master to be in a less awful mood, otherwise the hapless visitor would suffer a verbal lashing or a very harsh slap.

When in doubt, it was always better to knock – a very simple rule for living in society, but judging from the gossip it was one the Bai Zhan War Lord had never heard because the An Ding Peak’s disciples wouldn’t stop joking about Liu-shishu keeping the local carpenters afloat with all the doors he would kick down in a month.

But Shen Qingqiu had left for three months at least – something about Shang-shishu having a mishap and Ming Fan cannot find if it was his own fault or if something sinister was afoot – and the bamboo house stood empty with no one to inhabit there.

Ming Fan really shouldn’t be in the house, but see, he remembered he forgot to give his essay about the best way to handle a tea ceremony in various events such as a wedding or funeral back in time, and maybe he could avoid being struck with a switch if he managed to slip his homework sheet in the pile waiting in the bamboo house for a hallmaster to grade in Shizun’s stead.

It very much was a stupid idea, but Ming Fan disliked the prospect of his fingers tingling and stinging in pain after three strikes. And Shizun wasn’t here, and Ming Fan wouldn’t rummage through his things, he would only go in, leave his homework and go back to his dormitory ! Nobody would be hurt, so what was the problem ?

So the boy went, his heartbeat loud in his ears because it was Shizun’s domain he was entering without the Immortal Master’s express permission and wasn’t that scary, he would swear Shen Qingqiu was glaring at him from the other side of the door in spite of being aware of the Qing Jing Peak Lord’s absence.

He entered.

The bamboo house was very much a reflection of Qing Jing, as it was airy and light, with a lot of books carefully arranged on shelves, ink paintings on the walls and tasteful hardwood furniture, and Ming Fan couldn’t understand why he felt so uneasy, worse than before, maybe it was guilt and paranoia about someone stumbling upon him, as unlikely as it was ?

He took a long, deep breath in order to calm down, and he suddenly understood what was wrong.

The bamboo house didn’t have a smell.

Yes, there were odors – mainly the cleaning oils for the furniture and the soap for the floor – but the house didn’t smell like Shen Qingqiu at all, when the Immortal Master’s dewy bamboo smell ought to be present in every nook and cranny of the place. One would almost believe the house had no owner and was waiting for someone to take a fancy for it and decide to move in !

Shen Qingqiu was living in this house for years already. What was wrong with the place ? Or maybe it was Shizun himself – maybe his flat, colourless perfume was unable to delineate his territory, maybe this green smell that wouldn’t waver no matter the circumstances was thoroughly unable to cling to anything or anyone.

Did Shen Qingqiu try and ask for the Qian Cao Peak Lord’s help on the matter of his smell ? Because it would be a horrendous handicap to bear in one’s everyday life – people used their noses constantly, it allowed them to have a glimpse of what the other party was thinking or feeling, and when one didn’t have that, it opened the door wide to miscommunication and caused a lot of grief and unhappiness.

Ming Fan came from a mundane household, and he had seen how dangerous misunderstandings could be and how it would spoil everyone’s day at the end. Shen Qingqiu was an Immortal Master from the most powerful and influential sect in the Jianghu, a lack of communication from his part could lead to a full-blown war !

No, he wasn’t dramatizing – the hallmasters and the most senior disciples often grumbled about the Huan Hua Palace and how prideful their Old Master was. Proud men were easily offended, and they would want to wash the slight in blood, then it would grow out of control and everyone would suffer for a petty mistake that could have been avoided !

So yes, Ming Fan genuinely worried about Shen Qingqiu, since it appeared his problem with his natural smell was more dire than expected.

Did Shizun already asked for help, only for the attempt to fail ? The boy couldn’t believe it, Qian Cao was supposed to teach the best healers and physicians in the Middle Kingdom, and Mu-shishu surely wouldn’t shame his Peak’s reputation since he was the one tasked with caring for it. Surely they would have entrusted the Peak with their best and brightest mind.

… Did that mean Shizun couldn’t be helped at all ?

Ming Fan felt something leaden and bitter drop in his stomach as he pondered the eventuality. Truly, the world was unfair – for Shen Qingqiu to be set apart from mankind in such a way, unable to express what he truly meant and unable to be heard and understood, that sounded like bad puppet theater. Ming Fan used to go with his siblings to watch the puppets when their parents wanted to give them a treat for being good, and most of the time it wasn’t very good because the puppeteers had been cursed with a gloomy, unforgiving imagination and did nothing but tragedies in which everyone died at the end or was separated from their loved ones or learned they committed a grave sin and nothing they would do could forgive it.

Ming Fan used to reassure himself that puppet theater was nothing but a badly acted tale written by people who hated happy endings. But Shen Qingqiu wasn’t a puppet, he was a flesh and blood human being and he was Ming Fan’s Shizun and he had to live with something that caused him pain and it was real and it couldn’t be helped.

That wasn’t fair, and Ming Fan bit his lower lip in order to rein his own smell in, it wouldn’t do for his upset to seep in the walls and the furniture. Even if Shizun wasn’t slated to come back to Qing Jing before several weeks, time enough for the odor to vanish, cultivation enhanced senses and maybe it allowed someone to sniff an intruder long after said intruder’s departure – Ming Fan wouldn’t take his chance in the matter.

Suddenly, the prospect of getting switched for not giving his homework back on time seemed trivial – when it led him to suspect something very wrong with Shizun, something that utterly dwarfed a bad grade because it couldn’t be fixed at all.

He went so far, so he finished his caper, sliding his sheet in the pile of essays – not graded yet, he checked – and swiftly scampering in the dormitory’s direction afterward, but he didn’t feel good about it, not like he thought he would this morning.

Who first said ignorance was bliss ? Ming Fan had been made aware, and now he regretted it.

Chapter Text

Funny thing about living in an omegaverse, Shen Yuan mused as he watched Ying-jie frown at a small phial made of reddish glass, nobody ever wondered how having an oversensitive sense of smell would impact mankind’s opinion regarding perfume.

See, an artificial smell would more or less seamlessly meld with someone’s natural odor, occasionally enhancing but most of the time utterly overpowering and smothering the base scent. In a world where people actively relied on their nose to understand what the other party was feeling or thinking, it was nothing but a game-changer.

Of course, Weibo being Weibo and people being stupid to the point the only thing able to rival such a big target was the Universe itself, any omegaverse fanfic mentioning pheromones would only care about them as a way to show how aroused the love interest was, or how dominant the male protagonist – seriously, one thousand stories and barely three remembered women were supposed to exist in the setting – was because his manly sweat would make everyone around choke. After reading that, Shen Yuan would feel the desperate urge to shower until he was more wrinkled than his grandma and reeking of banana-scented body wash.

Banana-scented body wash had very low odds to ever appear in this xianxia dimension, since people enjoyed for their soaps to be utterly neutral and lacking in scent. Actually, any hint of dousing yourself with another perfume than your own was guaranteed to draw suspicious glares in your general direction, as you would immediately be accused of trying to hide something or wanting to manipulate someone into trusting you.

No one liked liars, and that was a multiversal constant. Nice to find something that reminded him of his former life, even a little.

The lone exception to the ban on artificial smells, of course, was prostitution – whores were expected to use every tool they could imagine in order to make themselves appealing and seductive, and if that meant enhancing your natural smell with a few droplets of musk laid on your neck and your wrist, well, everything was fair in love and in war.

Shen Yuan couldn’t help feeling morbidly fascinated by the double standard, while internally grousing over his own delicate nose that caused him fits of sneezing when a nanny came near him and she was surrounded by a cloud of chemical pheromones. Fortunately for him, Ying-jie ultimately decided she didn’t need perfume tonight.

« Yuan’er, would you pay attention ? It can be rather difficult to paint your eyes and forehead, you know ! »

The transmigrated soul pouted while Ying-jie slathered white powder diluted in water on her cheeks and brow – Shen Yuan remembered ancient cosmetics would contain lead or mercury and very much praised grandma Tang for her refusal to allow these in her brothel, the madam far too aware of the consequences for her flowers’ health and sanity.

Of course, the alternatives could be a mite ridiculous – a-Niang applied crushed pearl powder on his hands to make the skin more luminous and firm, Shen Yuan really didn’t want to look at the bill for such extravaganza. Well, since a-Niang entertained prestigious characters who showered him in expensive gifts, that wasn’t like the Red Warm Pavilion couldn’t allow it… but still !

« I don’t care about knowing, I won’t need it anyway ! »

Alright, his tone might be a smidge bratty, but come on ! She was teaching him because she thought he might follow in his mother’s footsteps as the courtesan who earned the most in the brothel, it was written all over her face ! Sorry, Ying-jie, but this Shen Yuan wasn’t interested in selling his body, if he could pinch some of a-Niang’s gifts and buy a nice little house in the countryside, he wouldn’t hesitate !

Ying-jie would be welcome, of course, and every girl that called the Red Warm Pavilion home – they helped to raise him, and they might need a refuge one day when they would lose their beauty to old age or veneral disease and nobody would agree to redeem them. At least they would always find his door opened.

« Silly Yuan’er » Ying-jie laughed, « you never know when something is going to be useful. Did your Lin-jie ever told you how she snagged the young lord Hu in her clutches ? Because let me warn you, the finer details of coal shipping are quite a boring discussion to have for supper... »

As Ying-jie happily recounted Lin-jie’s evening with the young lord Hu – and whew, she was right, that wasn’t the kind of services one would expect from a prostitute, even when she explicitely boasted of her education – she dabbed rouge on her eyelids and painted her lips crimson and carefully drew a fancy huadian between her brows, her moves so swift and graceful it betrayed years of experience.

How old was Ying-jie ? She couldn’t be more than thirty years old, prostitutes would start the slow process of washing out when they hit the twenty-five years old cap. How long did she have before she would be forced by her fading looks to leave the Red Warm Pavilion ?

How long before Ying-jie left Shen Yuan, just like a-Niang left ? Yes, a-Niang came back and people still flocked to the brothel, begging for a glimpse of the Veiled Beauty, but he still left, and one day it would be for good.

After being the one that would leave his loved ones behind in his former life, Shen Yuan decided he very much disliked being on the other side of the equation – especially when said equation involved several people slated to go.

Maybe he shouldn’t be that annoyed about Tanhua’s granddaughter, since the woman was the oldest prostitute to work in the Red Warm Pavilion and her departure slated to happen in three years at the latest. Maybe he should stick to her as much as he could, since she soon wouldn’t be there anymore.

She was rather evasive in front of Shen Yuan when she encouraged him to think about the future and he turned that against her, trying to divine if the middle-aged yet still lovely woman already had prospects or if she would end her days in quiet poverty – she deserved a far, far better fate – only for Tanhua to smile and pat his head and act as if he said something silly and endearing, don’t you worry your little heart, Yuan’er.

Yet another multiversal constant, grown ups refusing to bluntly tell kids that no, things weren’t good. This one, Shen Yuan hated – especially since he wasn’t actually a child who would let himself be distracted by pretty words and a bit of candy.

He couldn’t wait to finally mature – to finally have the opportunity to argue his way into being heard, because you could shut a kid in his bedroom when you refused to face him, but you couldn’t do that to another adult, someone you had to acknowledge as having equal rights to yours.

Since life was a bitch, Tanhua would be long gone when he would finally reach this stage in his second existence. Well, at least grandma Tang was liable to stay as the madam until she died, so that was a consolation – even if Shen Yuan would leave the Red Warm Pavilion rather than join her business as one of her employees, he still could write to her.

Aaahh… he made a lot of memories in the brothel, didn’t he ? Such an unexpected home, such an unconventional family, but he didn’t reincarnate in a mundane world to begin with, considering the cultivation and the omegaverse setting, so really he had no rights to complain.

Mundane had been his former life, and death took him away from this.

Chapter Text

There was a great many things Mo Bai – the demon that would one day succeed his father as ruler of the Northern Mountains, he who would ascend as Mobei-jun in spite of his uncle’s efforts to ruin the endeavour – found nothing short of baffling in the Human Realm.

The way they spat on their qianyuan scions and tried to slaughter them in the cradle when it was known that qianyuan was the strongest disposition, when so many human cultivators and warriors were qianyuan themselves, was one. For Mo Bai, born of two qianyuan parents and a qianyuan himself, whose tutors and attendants always told him to revel in his power and bloodthirsty instincts, it was worse than nonsensical – it seriously looked like a botched attempt at killing oneself in the most painful, dumb manner one could imagine.

Shang Qinghua was yet another confounding part of the Human Realm. The mousy little zhongyong swore himself to Mo Bai as his most faithful and devoted servant decades ago, and the ice demon nobleman still wasn’t closer from understanding the man.

Mo Bai could understand Shang Qinghua following him out of fear and desire to survive – weaklings would cling at anyone more powerful, even in the Lower Realm, until they died or found someone else that fit them better as provider of safety and shelter – what he couldn’t understand was the human rambling about how beautiful the ice demon was when the mousy zhongyong believed his lord and master wasn’t paying attention.

Mo Bai always paid attention to his attendants. It saved his life so many times, when his uncle inevitably brought them to his side and told them it would be a wonderful idea to slip poison in Mo Bai’s food, or to enter his bedroom with a naked dagger – and Shang Qinghua was a human cultivator, one who enjoyed the prestige of their most famed sect, it would be logical for him to bid his time and strike when he would think he could get away with it. Wouldn’t that be glorious, for such a frail-looking zhongyong to strike the heir to the Northern Mountains down and offer Mo Bai’s head to the Xuan Su sword ?

Except that Shang Qinghua never even tried. Mo Bai had waited and waited and waited and waited and Shang Qinghua had sobbed rivers of terrified tears and cowered in front of his lord and master’s anger and spun apologies and half-insane strategies for dealing with his kingdom’s most annoying pests and recurrent shortages of food and goods, and he never even thought of betraying Mo Bai.

The ice demon really couldn’t understand Shang Qinghua – that mousy, frail and perpetually terrified human with his sweet perfume of winter melon and water chestnut, delicacies the Human Realm jealously hoarded and that Mo Bai would have never tasted if his zhongyong servant hadn’t filled his office with tasty snacks. Shang Qinghua had complained a lot about his lord and master stealing his food, and Mo Bai had to remind himself that Shang Qinghua was human and wouldn’t know how meaningful it was for a demon to eat another demon’s meal.

Mo Bai couldn’t remember feeling safe enough to eat someone else’s meal, not even around his own mother after he grew old enough to be trained in the courtyard since she started to poison him in order to force his body to become immune to many, many nasty substances one would shamelessly use in the Northern court to incapacitate or humiliate a target. He was grateful for his mother preparing him to stand on his own feet, but he couldn’t say he trusted her.

Mo Bai – trusted Shang Qinghua, and wasn’t that a dizzy ? He who would ascend as Mobei-jun, he who constantly struggled to embody everything an ice demon from the strongest bloodline was supposed to be, trusting a wretched human who was as far away as possible from demonic perfection.

It was deeply upsetting, and maybe it was why he was beating the human cultivator a smidge too strongly – yes, Shang Qinghua could take it as a Peak Lord, he was heads above a measly human and wouldn’t die from a blow to the stomach or the head, but he nonetheless would shriek and cower a lot after a beating, and he wouldn’t fill the air with his gabbling and Mo Bai found the silence strangely distressing.

Now, someone had noticed the bruises he left on Shang Qinghua’s body – and the ice demon felt rather warm at this thought, his fist hitting strongly enough for the zhongyong’s body to be unable to erase it immediately and be forced to remember his touch, Shang Qinghua’s martial siblings witnessing the claim he left on the zhongyong’s body and coming to terms with the fact that Shang Qinghua already belonged to Mo Bai.

Someone had noticed, and Shang Qinghua had panicked enough to send a message through his tamed Furtive Sparrow – the brown and white bird was extremely reliable when one wished to establish a secure communication line – in which he begged for his King to postpone any visits he planned for An Ding Peak as long as the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect would be on guard and ready to meet a demon intruder with all the might of a sect that played a major role in sealing the last true Sacred Ruler of demonkind under a mountain.

Mo Bai wanted to walk to the Tian Gong Twelve Peaks and slaughter as much cultivators as he could, so much he would create a thirteen peak by piling their corpses upon each other, out of sheer wrath towards these uppity humans who dared to keep Shang Qinghua apart from his rightful lord – who dared to believe they owned Shang Qinghua when the mousy zhongyong swore himself to the ice demon’s service long before he was chosen to become the An Ding Peak Lord. Unfortunately, he wasn’t strong enough yet for this endeavour – maybe after consuming the martial body left by his father and fully ascending as Mobei-jun, but he wouldn’t take his chance against the Xuan Su Sword and the Bai Zhan War God, how arrogant to lay claim to godhood but it apparently wasn’t that undeserved so Mo Bai would only sniff at the title.

He would have to wait, but he was an ice demon – the Northern Mountains forced the brave souls calling them home to live at the rythm they decided, and none could do anything against them, so he was familiar with bowing his head and waiting until the snows stopped falling, leaving his people free to leave their dens and gather resources anew instead of shivering in the dark and wondering if today would see them freeze to death.

He would wait, and he would take Shang Qinghua away before unleashing the avalanche upon the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. The human zhongyong likely would try and raise a protest, but when a demon wanted someone strongly enough to lay waste to their tribe and steal them to their ancestral domain, then nothing could be done.

Mo Bai should find a way to kill or exile his uncle, or Linguang-jun would immediately seize the first opportunity to kill his nephew’s human attendant – just because Shang Qinghua belonged to Mo Bai, not even because the slight cultivator was startingly cunning and gifted with an amazing ability to think on his feet and escape any verbal and physical ambush one would attempt to trap him with.

It would ask a lot of blood and sweat and toil for Mo Bai to finally enjoy the luxury of Shang Qinghua’s undivided loyalty, but he thought it would be worth it – even if the sheer lengths he was ready to tread for this shivering, cowardly wreck of a human still baffled him.

Truly, Shang Qinghua was the greatest mystery ever produced by the Human Realm.

Chapter Text

When Madam Tang had let slip in carefully picked ears that her best courtesan, the Veiled Beauty whom none ever beheld in their full glory, was back and open to entertain patrons, it took barely three days for the Red Warm Pavilion to be flooded with letters and gifts, all of them betraying a desperate wish to be granted an evening with the Veiled Beauty.

« How popular, a-Jiu ! » Wu San outright laughed while she helped with unpacking and cataloging everything. « Are you really sure you won’t keep anything of these ? »

The kunze haughtily sniffed.

« Why would this Master care about inferior goods when he can produce his own with much better results ? Let the Madam keep them, it will pay for my bedroom and my child’s education. »

« Frankly, you could lodge in our best room all year round and bear three dozens of whelps and your expenses still would have been covered » the qianyuan female hummed before gasping as she unfurled a brocade overcoat embroidered with golden pheasants and peonies. « Gosh, just look at this ! »

The kunze ultimately insisted for Wu San to accept the brocade in his stead – golden clothes would always remind him of the Huan Hua Palace, and he had his pride as a Cang Qiong Mountain Sect cultivator. Also, he disliked pheasants – yes, it was pretty tasty meat, but people wanted golden pheasants in their courtyards in order to brag and show off. Basically, it was the bird substitute for cock-waving, and Shen Qingqiu couldn’t stand this kind of vulgarity.

Shen Qingqiu foisted a lot of the gifts he received on the flowers calling the Red Warm Pavilion home. That wasn’t like he would need them, after all, not when he had his own wealth from being the Qing Jing Peak Lord, and the prostitutes helping him with Yuan’er wouldn’t say no to a pretty bauble they could use to entrance their own regulars or later sell to add the money to their little savings, everyone won.

Yuan’er obviously couldn’t understand that, far too young still to actually grasp the reality of living in a brothel and what kind of future a washed-out prostitute was supposed to face, and the brat would whine and smell of utter confusion as he saw his mother redistributing piles upon piles of treasure. One day, he would be old enough for Shen Qingqiu to explain he could never, ever let some pig gift him anything, not even if the present was pretty or useful or something Yuan’er very much craved, because people would start assuming Yuan’er owed them for accepting their offering and they would never give him a single moment of peace anymore.

In this world, there was no place for kindness – everything needed to be paid, in a way or another, and if one was tremendously lucky, the price wouldn’t be your blood or your life or your mind or your ability to sleep without suffering nightmares.

(Shen Jiu firmly tramples the soft voice whispering he’s wrong, just look at Qi-ge when he still cared for you, just look at Madam Tang and her girls who could have taken your gold and refuse to see you as more than another pig yet have embraced you as their sister in misfortune, just look at Xiao Mao who came back when she could have forgotten you in this tiny bedroom with a newborn child, just look at Yuan’er who lights up when you’re in the same room and you are doing nothing but be there)

(soon or later, Shen Jiu will have to pay the price for these crumbs of happiness and safety he’s greedily hoarding but for now just let him enjoy them, just let him forget tomorrow will came and sink in the warm now)

With the most extravagant gifts came proposals – for the Veiled Beauty to consider one Imperial official or a Duke or another self-important pig redeeming her , surely a courtesan of such value wouldn’t be happy to stay in an establishment of ill repute longer than strictly needed for her to attract someone wealthy enough to shower luxuries upon her and look, candidates are lining to do so, you just have to wisely pick up.

It was pitiful – these letters reeked of desperation, their writers smart enough to understand the Veiled Beauty soon would be taken out of their reach by her popularity inflating her value, trying to cajole their lust object into bestowing favour upon them before someone far above them on the social ladder could pluck the whole flower.

Shen Qingqiu threw these messages to the fire and gleefully wached them burn, not even caring about writing back. Let these pigs beat their chest and shriek over the world’s unfairness, they wouldn’t die from not having their whim fulfilled for once, and the wealth they wasted in gifts would be put to a much better use than anything else they would have done with it.

« So mean, a-Jiu » Tanhua fondly sighed. « You know I have seen a lot of girls who enjoyed dragging men from their lofty pedestals in my line of work, but never have I seen someone who relished it as much as you do. »

« This one never claimed he was a paragon of kindness » the kunze answered. « How is that my fault if people insist to believe I am a pure blossom when I am doing my best to showcase my thorns ? »

Yinghua almost choked, her smell tingling with hilarity. Shen Qingqiu was ready to admit it was a pretty absurd behaviour, especially when the dumbasses responsible for such claims held responsabilities that would ask some intelligence from their part if they didn’t want to be sentenced to death for a blunder.

If they could see his face, these pigs would immediately be disgusted. Sure, they still might want to fuck him, a male kunze was a rare jewel after all, and it would be even worse if they came to learn of his Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast lineage, but Shen Qingqiu had nothing for him when these so-called advantages were excised. He wasn’t sweet and compliant, he would swear and curse instead of giving simpering praise, he enjoyed being the smartest and most ruthless person in the room instead of being demure and humble.

Everything about him was poison, and he still could barely believe Yuan’er was born from his womb without inheriting a droplet of his mother’s awfulness. He would call that a miracle, if he wasn’t aware of the Upper Realm’s determination to ruin his life.

Yuan’er. How many pigs would flee his company if they suspected him from having a child ? One would have to be pretty hungry to be alright with tasting another man’s sloppy left-overs – unless the buyer decided to punish the tainted merchandise by discarding the flaw in the gutter.

No, Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t let that happen. Nothing would ever take Yuan’er from him – nothing and nobody, he would permanently traumatize Yuan’er by telling him of Wu Yanzi and how this kind of man was rampant in the Middle Kingdom if he had to, that would be for the brat’s own good to trust no one beyond Shen Qingqiu and whoever Shen Qingqiu considered safe, and that would be a very short list indeed.

Still, maybe he wouldn’t have to go so far. Growing up in a brothel, even one as well-maintained and secure as the Red Warm Pavilion, Yuan’er likely would lose any shred of illusion regarding mankind when he would present and be considered ready to entertain daydreams about love.

He also would know far too much about aphrodisiacs and lovemaking for a conventional parent’s peace of mind, but Shen Qingqiu wasn’t conventional to begin with. As long as Yuan’er didn’t act on this knowledge, it would be alright.

Chapter Text

In his previous life, Shen Yuan’s hair always had been cropped close to the skull – that was easier to care for it this way. Unfortunately, his rebirth in a xianxia dimension meant he was stuck with Confucian ideals that believed it was a disgrace towards your parents if you even dared to cut your mane into something manageable instead of letting it grow long enough for Rapunzel to start believing she had competition.

To his utter dismay, his nannies really enjoyed pulling his downy locks into tiny pigtails or buns – combined with the cute little dresses they kept stuffing him in, he really would suffer from extreme gender-confusion after reaching puberty for the second time, oh the horror !

On the other hand, a-Niang would take him on his lap and comb his hair on the morning and after bathing, and that wasn’t so bad. It actually reminded him of monkeys and cats and other social animals grooming each other, and when you thought about it, human beings were animals too, if an horrendously invasive species that flooded every part of the planet – even the Poles – and thoroughly impacted the environment.

His mother’s hands were soft and gentle as he brushed Shen Yuan’s shoulder-length locks, humming all the while and Shen Yuan knew this song, it was a-Niang’s favourite, the one about an ambitious youth who had power enough to do everything he wanted, go anywhere he wanted, but only wished for a solitary life with the lone person that mattered.

But I want to lead a peaceful life with you, and look at everyone from the top of the world

Shen Yuan wondered where did his mother heard this song, that didn’t sound like the usual pieces a brothel would teach to the employees. Maybe it was something from before he wound up in the Red Warm Pavilion ?

After checking Shen Yuan’s locks were fully untangled and combed until they felt silken and impossibly smooth, a-Niang would take care of his own butt-length mane and how could he stand the sheer weight and impracticality from this, Shen Yuan really wondered and he shivered at the prospect of having hair just as long one day, genetics played a part in hair length, didn’t it ? Maybe he ought to become a criminal and run around with nothing with a shaved skull…

Still, when you weren’t focused on the drawbacks, you had to recognize a-Niang looked very striking with his hair unbound, covering his back with an inky, glossy waterfall and helping his sweet, golden peaches perfume to spread in the air.

A-niang smelled really good, and Shen Yuan considered himself rather lucky for inheriting the same odor – at least he wouldn’t have to fret about stinking, even when he was a sweaty, gross mess.

He was allowed to help a bit with his mother’s hair, but he mainly felt a-Niang was indulging him since it was about giving the black river three or five strokes with the comb and nothing more – the bulk of caring was done by the older man, who would oil his locks, and brush them, and pat them dry after the bath, and braid them to ensure they wouldn’t frizz or get caught in things or being in the way, so many little tasks he would fastidiously do with the grim resolve of a soldier walking to the battlefield.

« Say, a-Niang, aren’t you tired about being pretty sometimes ? »

Green eyes flashed, and Shen Yuan swallowed as his mother focused on him – it was pretty terrifying an experience, moreso when the person who gave birth to you was rather intense and the Veiled Beauty certainly had intensity in spades, he made everyone else look like washed out shadows by comparison.

« I really should be more careful » the grown up kunze finally decided to muse, « if my toddler brat can see that, then it’s only a matter of time until my customers manage to get a read on me. »

« I take after my niang » Shen Yuan quickly fibbed, « and a-Niang is the smartest . »

Yes, he was shamelessly appealing to his mother’s pride, but come on, he couldn’t exactly claim he actually was a twenty-two years old man who happened to be reincarnated and failed to lose the memories of his previous life ! He would be burned at the stake !

A-niang’s mouth twitched and his smell was flooded with contentment.

« Cheeky brat. »

Shen Yuan smiled as widely and innocently as he could. For half a minute, nothing was said between them.

« … Sometimes, yes. Your mother doesn’t want to be pretty at all. »

« But you still dress up and you put make-up » Shen Yuan pointed.

« Well, yes, because I have customers to entertain, and if I am not looking my best in front of them, I am going to lose. »

« Lose what ? »

A-niang shrugged.

« I am not pretty for these pigs, Yuan’er, I am pretty because I choose to don pretty gowns and to wear pretty bracelets and to say pretty things. I am pretty… I am pretty because it’s safe to be pretty there, when it’s not outside, and this is something I need to remember. »

Whew, that was… that was rather heavy in subtext, wasn’t it ? And not the nice kind, it was the kind that made you sob like if you just stubbed your toe – merely thinking about it made Shen Yuan feel faint – and filled you with the burning desire to call the police and sick them on the dregs of society.

But it was Ancient China, or something very close in this omegaverse setting, and the past as a rule was a pretty gruesome place to be when you looked past the rose-tinged nostalgia – plagues and war running rampant while people were gleefully turning against each other because they were taught it was alright to treat your fellow human being as something instead of someone.

Shen Yuan’s mother was even less than the common folk in the streets, since he was a prostitute. Yes, he was wearing indecently fancy clothes and he entertained very high-placed officials in the Middle Kingdom that were ready to sell everything they owned for an evening with the Veiled Beauty, but a-Niang still didn’t feel safe outside the brothel.

Shen Yuan felt conflicted. On one hand, it wasn’t fair for a-Niang to live in fear and deprived of opportunities just because people had no manners, but on the other hand, it was nice to know a-Niang was happy in the Red Warm Pavilion. Was feeling safe.

He leaned against his mother’s side.

« I have the prettiest niang ever » he said, only for the older kunze to snort.

« Cheeky brat » he repeated. « Your mother is quite ugly inside, if you dared to cut me open and have a glimpse, you would think I am a witch from the deepest, darkest pits of the Underworld. »

« Are you really ? » Shen Yuan fired back. « Was it a very scary place ? »

« Almost as scary as the Middle Kingdom » a-Niang reluctantly admitted. « Demons and beasts are helpless when it comes to fight against their instincts… you cannot ask a bird to swim like a fish, it would drown. But people, they will do anything . »

Really, this wasn’t a discussion a mother should have with their toddler son, but a-Niang was far from being conventional. To begin with, he was male – well, it might not be that unusual for an omegaverse, but Shen Yuan wasn’t exactly native to this dimension so cut him some slack ! Men in his previous world weren’t supposed to fall pregnant unless they were transgender !

That or until science progressed far enough. Really, there would be no limits to people’s imagination when they were given the means to turn any idle wish into reality.

Chapter Text

It was nice to spend more time than a few shichen in the Red Warm Pavilion, gossiping with the flowers and playing the guqin and spoiling Yuan’er and generally acting as if the few months in which he had to serve as the Qing Jing Peak Lord anew were nothing but a dream, and his life as a courtesan the waking world.

Unfortunately, the reverse applied in truth and soon, far too soon, the weeks Shen Qingqiu had been granted to leave the Cang Qiong Mountain sect came to an end, and he had to prepare his departure.

« You’re leaving again. »

Of course Yuan’er had noticed his mother’s dimming mood – such a smart brat for his young age, Madam Tang actually marvelled at it and Tanhua had confessed she couldn’t remember her own late daughter being that articulate or thoughtful in her toddling years, but Yuan’er couldn’t be anything but extraordinary, that was the naked truth – in spite of Shen Qingqiu’s efforts to put a brave front on, as he always did when things were going badly and it happened far too often for his tastes, it gave him an indecent amount of opportunities to practise.

The kunze briefly considered lying, but the words turned to ashes upon his tongue as his baby looked at him with dark, dark eyes, waiting for a confirmation, and what use would it be, after all ? Soon Shen Qingqiu would leave, and Yuan’er would wake up alone in their tiny bedroom, and he would know his mother had lied to him.

(lies always breed disappointment and seething grudge and Shen Jiu thinks he just might die from a broken heart if Yuan’er ever decide to nurture these feelings towards him)

« Yes. I am going away. »

The admission tasted like grounded glass and saccharine arsenic as he uttered it, and a shameful wetness burned beneath his eyelids, begging to be allowed to spill upon his cheeks, but he kept it firmly lashed to his will. He needed to stay strong, he needed to show his child that tears never were the answer.

Yuan’er sniffed, his tiny face twisting itself in a distressed pouty frown. It looked startingly adorable and Shen Qingqiu wanted to take the boy on his lap and hug the breath out of his small body, to kiss the frown away. The older kunze stayed still.

« Why ? Can’t you… stay here ? »

Tanhua had warned him when his baby had started to babble and show curiosity for his surroundings, children had an unerring knack to put their tiny finger on the detail one sought to keep hidden and far from unwanted prying, they always prodded in this awkward place one really didn’t want to scratch under pain of opening old scars again, they constantly asked the wrong question that would force their parent to carefully choose their words if they wanted to evade the trap waiting to be sprung under their feet.

Shen Qingqiu sighed in order to gather his thoughts.

« That would make my long-term planning much more complicated, so no, I cannot stay there » he bluntly confessed, before deciding to indulge into his own weakness and admit : « Even if I would rather do that. »

Yuan’er appeared unmoved by the admission, his frown growing even more pouty.

« What… long-term plan ? » he parroted, scrunching his brows.

Shen Qingqiu knew the power of theater – he made a point of quickly looking at the door of their tiny bedroom, as if ensuring no one was about to disturb them, then he leaned forwards to whisper in his baby’s cute little ear.

« For when I won’t be the Veiled Beauty anymore. You didn’t think I would be a courtesan forever, did you ? »

The boy hiccuped and coughed and Shen Qingqiu almost entered a panic attack, his baby was choking , but Yuan’er swiftly rallied himself and gaped at his mother.

« You won’t  ?! »

« All beauty fades » the Immortal Master in possession of a golden core ensuring he would never gain wrinkles or white hair mused, « and that is why a flower needs to prepare for winter. When your grandma will decide I have paid her enough, then we will leave, both of us. »

Internally, Shen Qingqiu hoped Yuan’er wouldn’t immediately realize it would force the boy to leave his beloved sisters and aunties behind, even if he found a way to write them – children loathed the very prospect of separation, and Yuan’er wasn’t an ill-tempered brat that would throw tantrums when he couldn’t obtain what he wanted but he nonetheless was a child and rather a clingy one, judging from the way he would cuddle the flowers and his mother and Chen Qingxu when she was visiting.

(maybe he wouldn’t be so afraid of losing people if he’s not clutching them with all his might, a nasty voice sneers in Shen Jiu’s mind, if his mother didn’t teach him it’s possible for his loved ones to disappear in the middle of the night without any warning, not even a good-bye)

His wish was granted, as a smile slowly crept on his baby’s face.

« We gonna leave in the countryside ? With a real garden ? »

« If you want a garden, you will have it » Shen Qingqiu shrugged. «  But you will have to take care of it, and I don’t want to hear you complain and whine if you are unable to sprout a radish on your own. »

Having a small plot for vegetables, it was a street urchin’s dream – this way one wouldn’t have to fear starvation so much – and as such gardening was a valuable skill for Yuan’er to have. As long as the boy wasn’t focusing on growing silly things such as pretty flowers that wouldn’t even taste good to eat, prettiness had its place under the sun and it came after ensuring survival, not before.

(Qi-ge could spend days building the perfect garden in his mind, and the first time Shen Jiu got to visit Qiong Ding and saw the peak’s stately gardens he thought Qi-ge has found the perfect place for himself)

« Oh ! Will there be animals too ? Cats and dogs and mice and eagles and bulls and... »

Yuan’er was starting to ramble, his floral perfume thickening the air with anticipation and excitation, forcing Shen Qingqiu to bop his nose in order to quiet him down.

« Your Auntie Mao really shouldn’t have brought you this illustrated bestiary » he groused.

« You cannot steal my book » Yuan’er told him, « or I will tell grandma and she will be irked because you’re a meanie, and Auntie Mao will be annoyed too because you steal other people’s things. »

« As if she could actually call me on that » Shen Qingqiu fired back, « your auntie’s relationship with the very concept of private property is the shakiest one I have ever seen, and I was running with a bunch of urchins who cut purses and stole anything they could put in their pocket before darting away. »

Truly, Chen Qingxu reminded him of a cat in her casual insistence that she could sprawl on his furniture and eat his food and he would take it graciously because that was how the world functioned – such arrogance was a privilege for Emperors and felines.

« She would  » Yuan’er claimed, « because she likes me. »

He was wearing his tiger-head shoes, fraying at the seams and the thread faded with age and repeated washing. The boy had fallen in love with the silly footwear and staunchly refused to don another pair, telling the Alchemist she would have to sew him new shoes when these ones would fall apart.

Chen Qingxu had loudly and openly reminded everyone in the brothel she was a Mistress Alchemist, not a fucking seamstress, what are you Shens’ problem, are you blind for not seeing the truth of the matter or deaf for not registering what I am saying, huh ?

She also smelled insufferably smug and content for what was left of the evening.

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua still wouldn’t speak, stubbornly refusing to give any hint regarding the whereabouts or the identity of his abuser. Yue Qingyuan was torn between annoyance and genuine respect.

Annoyance, because the An Ding Peak Lord was given the perfect opportunity to strike back at his tormenter and wouldn’t seize it. Annoyance, because the mousy zhongyong wasn’t helping the Sect Leader to do what he was supposed to do, protecting the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect from anyone presenting a threat to them.

Respect because this mousy zhongyong, for all his weakness in cultivation and mind, finally unveiled a steel spine hidden beneath his cowering and frantic apologies. Respect because Yue Qingyuan remembered what fate waited snitches in the gutter and understood very well his shidi’s reasoning for keeping quiet.

He suspected he was alone in feeling this duality in his mind and heart – the other Peak Lords were stuck on annoyance, bafflement, and worry for the more soft-hearted like Shi Qingxuan who had increased the number of his visits on the logistics peak, and had been there to save Shang Qinghua from Liu Qingge when the War God learned of the matter and decided to break the An Ding Peak Lord’s door and intimidate him into spilling his guts.

Obviously, it hadn’t worked – now, Shang Qinghua wouldn’t leave his leisure house, Bai Zhan had been banned from any kind of reparations and weapon deliveries by An Ding’s thoroughly irate Disciples, and Yue Qingyuan had summoned Liu Qingge in order to give him a piece of his mind and send him in seclusion until he wrote a letter of apology to Shang Qinghua and realized his force-brute approach to everything might not be the perfect solution he thought it was.

Seriously, Liu Qingge was qianyuan, he couldn’t strut around and act like if his opinion was the only one that mattered, people would start flinging accusations of demon blood for it had to be demonic ancestry that influenced such ill manners, and then it would snowball and cause the Twelve Peaks to be forced on trial for being too lenient on scum but of course it was inevitable, since they let a qianyuan obtain the exalted position of Sect Master.

If that future came to pass, Yue Qingyuan would gladly throw Liu Qingge to the wolves – it would be karmic retribution, after his stupidity started the whole mess, and the Qiong Ding Peak Lord would relish smearing his memory by explaining young Mingyan how exactly her beloved brother had almost ruined his sect.

This latter threat had immensely unnerved the War God.

« Yue-zhangmen wouldn’t dare to be that cruel, surely » he tried to argue.

The Qiong Ding Peak Lord had smiled at the younger qianyuan, and Liu Qingge had shivered.

« This Qingyuan absolutely would. Do you know, Liu-shidi, I have no idea whatsoever about why people think I am a soft touch. I certainly doesn’t feel very nice most days, so imagine what I would do in my worst mood. »

The War God obviously didn’t want to imagine, and meekly accepted his punishment. In hindsight, maybe Yue Qingyuan went a smidge too far but he wouldn’t take his words back. Being a Sect leader, it was like leading a pack of starving street urchins until they became old enough for the slavers to discard them, one had to carefully balance kindness with being terrifying as shit, more scary than death or the prospect of getting whipped and beaten to the bone – Liu Qingge answered much better to fear, that was all.

The Qiong Ding Peak Lord supposed it would serve as an apology to allow the War God to rampage against the one responsible for Shang Qinghua’s injuries. Well, it would force Liu Qingge to act swiftly if he didn’t want for Wei Qingwei and Qi Qingqi to steal the fight – both of them had been itching for blood since the reveal.

Qi Qingqi likely thought it was her best chance to be forgiven, after the stress she accidentally caused their logistician by getting a glimpse of his attempts at writing a novel – Yue Qingyuan still was surprised by that, Shang Qinghua appeared the fussy sort that would focus on annals and records instead of fiction, but assuming made an ass out of anyone that couldn’t be bothered to keep their mind open – and Wei Qingwei was acting on sheer solidarity towards a martial sibling. The blacksmith also would serve as a calming influence on Mu Qingfang for once, the physician was emphatically if politely infuriated by the whole mess.

Healers. If they hadn’t been sworn to preserve life, they would be a nightmare – after all, one needed to learn how to destroy the physical and mental health in order to rebuild it stronger – and even with that security measure, common folk were uneasy about consulting them.

Maybe it was why Xiao Jiu apparently would rather force Chen Qingxu to give him a physical. For all her horrendous bed-manner and her insistence on being a Mistress Alchemist first, an engineer second and a physician far, far behind these two categories, she nonetheless managed to be more reassuring in spite of playing with poisons and cutting corpses open to see how long it would take for the organs to rot in various environments.

Yue Qingyuan decided he would never admit this hypothesis in front of the Ling Shu Peak Lord or the Qian Cao Peak Lord, because they would band together against him and he refused to die in the atrocious circumstances they would invent for him to endure. He could handle an ungodly amount of punishment, he had grown up in the gutter and he had cultivated a very powerful golden core, but his martial siblings were quite imaginative when they were given a reason to be nasty.

Part of his job as a Sect Leader was channeling this nasty streak into productive endeavours, and for now it was unleashing retribution for Shang Qinghua that would do the trick – well, it would work much better if the logistician finally decided to talk. As things currently stood, the Twelve Peaks were seething in resentment and begged for release, and if some way out of this sticky situation wasn’t found soon, the water in the cooking pot would boil over and the stew would be utterly wasted.

Yue Qingyuan idly wondered if he should have let Liu Qingge shake their mousy shidi into compliance, after all. But considering the results… no, it was better for Shi Qingxuan to have intervened before the damage went too far.

It still was annoying, though, and the Qiong Ding Peak Lord freely admitted it. Sometimes, he regretted having assimilated the self-control beaten in him by slavery and disciplehood so well, he would have developed coping ways otherwise.

But he had seen the consequences when he couldn’t restrain his impulses, he was living with the consequences since this fateful Immortal Alliance Conference that saw him reunited with Xiao Jiu alive and bitter and so deeply scarred by Yue Qi’s failure to uphold his promise. So Yue Qi had to stay carefully hidden behind the Sect Leader, since he wouldn’t achieve anything anyway.

Xiao Jiu wasn’t interested in having Yue Qi back anyway, and Yue Qingyuan wouldn’t blame the other man for this – not when everything he did only resulted in the Qing Jing Peak Lord drifting further away.

Truly, Yue Qingyuan was a pitiful example of a qianyuan : he couldn’t save his most precious person, he couldn’t cultivate without getting his lifeforce stuck in his sword, he couldn’t even watch over the sect Shizun had entrusted to him because his shidi would rather suffer than confess he needed help.

Sometimes, he wondered why he wasn’t drawing Xuan Su and slitting his own throat. Surely that would be a quick, clean death.

That would be nothing less than he deserved.

Chapter Text

Liu Qingge was a straightforward man.

Many people – and he had the displeasure to have his martial siblings among them – were complicated, and because of that they believed he was hopelessly stupid since he would try to find a simple solution to a complicated problem.

Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn’t. The problem with Shang Qinghua was firmly slotted in the latter category.

The Bai Zhan War God couldn’t stand the cowardly, whining logistician, but that didn’t mean he wanted for the mousy zhongyong to be abused and mistreated for decades. Yes, he wanted to kick the An Ding Peak Lord and maybe yell at him to get in shape and stop fretting over nothing, but he wouldn’t wish him genuine, long-lasting harm.

So he decided he would learn who had injured Shang Qinghua, and he would kill this person or at least maim them enough for further abuse to be impossible, and that would be the end of it. It was a simple, straightforward solution, and he was very content with his reasoning.

A simple, straightforward solution complicated by Shang Qinghua’s baffling refusal to give him a name. Maybe he was scared of the miscreant coming back and making him pay for being a tattletale, the mousy zhongyong certainly was cowardly enough for the threat to be effective, so Liu Qingge had decided to pose as the worst threat, the one that was right there and begging to be unleashed right now instead of waiting in a nebulous future.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, but judging from Shi Qingxuan’s horrified shrieks, what in the Eighteen Hells are you fucking doing Liu-shixiong, and the resident drunkard was quite the fierce opponent for one who enjoyed parading in colourful gowns and imbibing liquors able to stun a dragon horse, it wasn’t the best Liu Qingge could have picked to act on.

Yue-zhangmen summoning him and very politely tearing him a new arsehole for being an insensitive, white-eyed dog whose head was filled with water instead of grey matter and who really ought to be put down if he couldn’t stop acting like a rabid beast and start fooling people into believing he was a sane, rational human being, had only reinforced this opinion.

Yue-zhangmen just wouldn’t stop smiling while he was dressing the War God down, and Liu Qingge knew this gentle, beatific expression would cause him more than a few nightmares in the weeks to come. That and the heavy, pungent stink of heavy rainfall flooding the countryside to drown cattle and crops and peasants alike, surrounding the Xuan Su Sword as demonic miasma right before an attack in the dark of night.

Truly, the former Sect Leader had chosen his successor very well. Only an exceptional soul would be able to face the jianghu as one heading the most powerful sect in the Middle Kingdom and a qianyuan, and Liu Qingge wasn’t ashamed to recognize Yue Qingyuan as his superior.

Terrified to the point he felt faint, but unashamed.

If these two confrontations hadn’t been enough to make him feel hopelessly stupid, then his thirteen-year-old sister would have achieved that when he went to see her on Xian Shu for his weekly visit – a rare treat for one of Qi Qingqi’s Disciples, as so many of the fairies living on her peak had no family able or willing to call them kin.

« Ge has screwed up » she flatly told him.

« I know that » he hissed, his skin crawling from uneasiness and embarrassment.

« Perhaps you need to hear it a few times more » she sniffed.

He nipped at her ear, but there wasn’t any strength behind the gesture, and she chuffed at him, bobbing her head as the breathy snort escaped her nostrils.

Both Liu siblings were laid upon Mingyan’s bed, half-buried under overstuffed pillows – the young female qianyuan disdained blankets when she was in a nesting mood, but she hoarded plump cushions and bolsters in fine lace and cotton, claiming it was perfect for burrowing and hugging.

It certainly was perfect for Liu Qingge to faceplant and avert his eyes. He exhaled in the soft cloth.

« … Will have to write an apology letter to Shang Qinghua » he muttered.

The War God wasn’t good with words when he was speaking, and it managed to be even worse when he was supposed to write. How many brushes had he broken out of sheer frustration ? How many sheets thrown in the brazier for the crime of bearing awkward sentences ?

A small, delicate hand patted his ponytail.

« I will help ge with his homework » Mingyan promised in a teasing tone, « but ge will have to ask Shang-shishu when he will have finished his novel. »

« What novel ? »

« Don’t you know ? The whole mishap that saw his injuries dragged into the light, it happened because Shizun had stumbled upon a novel he was the author of » the girl about to blossom in a woman revealed, obviously relishing the tidbit of gossip. « Everyone is wondering what kind of story it is ! »

The martial cultivator snorted in his pillow.

« Not me » he said, because Liu Qingge wasn’t the reading kind when he could train or hunt some wily monster and wrestle it into submission.

« Ge- ge  » Mingyan pouted, using the whining intonations mastered by younger sisters everywhere, « how can you be boring ? »

« Am not boring, meimei is just too smart. »

The younger female qianyuan flopped on his back. For one who rose to the exalted position of Bai Zhan War God, a prepubescent girl was barely worth noticing a weight, as slight as a famished swallow.

« Smart and curious. If this Mingyan manages to bring Shang-shidi’s novel to the monthly critique session, how much do you reckon her martial sisters will be impressed ? »

« Enough to make your chores for two weeks ? »

« Two weeks ! » the girl haughtily sniffed. « My ge thinks it’s only worth two weeks of chores, when it’s two months , and the auction is still escalating up the price ! »

Now, the War God felt his lips twitching and threatening to pull themselves in a smile.

« I should tell your Shizun what her disciples are cooking up in their dormitory, maybe she will train you harder. Idle hands and idle minds will build a devil’s workshop and all that. »

This time, Mingyan was the one to nip her sibling’s ear.

« Don’t you love me, ge ? Why are you trying to punish me so ? » she dramatically lamented.

« That’s because I love you I’m being mean to you » he remorselessly claimed.

« Not mean » she immediately protested. « Ge is the best mother this Mingyan could ask for. »

Liu Qingge stiffened. His sister didn’t notice or she couldn’t care less, still sprawled upon his back and quietly humming a lullaby in the wrong key entirely but he lost his voice to tell her this.

The martial cultivator was deeply, painfully aware he wasn’t what people imagined when they heard of the Bai Zhan War God. He lost count of the sheer number of startled commoners and noblemen and women looking him up and down, obviously expecting a scarred, towering mountain of a man in his stead.

Madame Liu’s features were hopelessly blurred in his mind, it had been far too long since the last time he saw her alive, before he presented at nine years old and was immediately thrown in the streets to die or become some depraved aristocrat’s pretty little plaything.

Liu Qingge didn’t die, being taken to Cang Qiong by Shizun after she stumbled upon the shivering urchin who still struggled to proceed his world imploding, and climbing the ranks with a rare skill and martial prowess. Madame Liu stayed in the Liu compound to bear children to her husband, until her last-born showed herself as flawed as her firstborn and the woman decided she couldn’t live with the shame of having birthed two qianyuans.

Mingyan had burst in tears when she first met her eldest brother, jumping in his arms and calling him mama , babbling about papa suddenly hating her and she didn’t know what she had done wrong, please explain, mama ? Please don’t leave again, mama ?

It took half a year before the young girl could accept he was her eldest brother, and she still relapsed when she was emotional. Liu Qingge had mastered swordfighting and he could wrestle any monster and demon on his path into submission, but that was too much baggage for him – the reason why he entrusted his sister to Qi Qingqi rather than raise her on Bai Zhan, the Xian Shu Peak Lord was used to messy, complicated situations when it came to family.

Liu Qingge was a straightforward man, and he had the displeasure to be surrounded with complicated people.

Chapter Text

« Thank fuck you came back » Chen Qingxu said – she appeared as emotionless as usual, but Shen Qingqiu gained familiarity enough with her smell and the minute twitches in her facial features to see the Mistress Alchemist was actually, genuinely relieved about his return to Cang Qiong.

That was – novel, actually. Nobody else would ever do that, except maybe Yue Qingyuan but that self-loathing asshole would always find a way to ruin the moment, so.

« What have our dearly beloved  » the Qing Jing Peak Lord sneered, his voice so dripping with sarcasm and mockery one could have carved a whole manor from it, « martial siblings did this time ? »

The zhongyong female rolled her eyes.

« Still stuck on the Shang Qinghua problem » she sniffed. « Well, this humble Alchemist could see it would be a flaming disaster, them trying to make him talk be it with gentleness or force, so she locked herself in her lab and waited for the mess to blow over. Huh, now that I am thinking about it… it’s rather ironic, for me to seek safety in a place in which I can cause a lot of very damaging explosions, waiting for another kind of explosion to happen outside. »

Seen this way, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t really disagree with the poetry hidden beneath the current circumstances.

« Unfortunately » the Alchemist continued to grouse, « this mess is a very stubborn one. Like a very old stain nobody ever cared to clean when it was fresh, and now it’s there forever. Well, it’s there until someone takes a hammer to the wall, because sometimes one needs to forgot subtle and restraint. »

« Can we stop speaking about Shang Qinghua and how he turned the Twelve Peaks into a chicken coop filled with headless yet living hens, looking for their missing appendage ? » Shen Qingqiu asked. « This Master isn’t interested in giving himself a headache for someone he feels is more trouble than he’s worth. »

« Shen-shixiong is aware he’s tidily fitting in this peculiar category of people ? » his shimei mildly pointed.

« I am hopelessly aware of it » the kunze claiming to be a zhongyong fired back.

Something like a frown flittingly appeared on Chen Qingxu’s face, only for her expression to utterly smooth – a pond swallowing a pebble without leaving any hint it ever was there.

« Well, this one has chosen to accept a positive result to our mess » she declared, « she’s got to work on her special projects without anyone making a fuss over it, since they are busy fussing over someone else, ha ! »

« Congratulations to Chen-shimei, then. »

This time, Chen Qingxu’s mouth frowned and stayed stuck this way longer than a fên.

« Shen-shixiong oughtn’t to lavish praise upon this lowly Alchemist, as she’s unable to make progress on the perfume she promised to craft for him. »

Green eyes minutely narrowed.

« Oh, really ? »

Truly, Shen Qingqiu didn’t care a whit about receiving access to higher-quality perfume, the one he used since he understood he was doomed to stay on Qing Jing as a Disciple and couldn’t very well keep on escaping baths as a way to obfuscate his disposition was enough for his day-to-day life. He got used to the dewy bamboo scent, his students and hallmasters got used to shrug it off as one of Shen Qingqiu’s many, many flaws, and his so-called martial siblings would have found another justification to scorn him anyway.

Still, Chen Qingxu had jumped on the possibility of a false scent that would mimic one’s genuine pheromones and threw herself with all the gusto and enthusiasm of a madwoman in the venture – and how in the Eighteen Hells was Shen Qingqiu entitled to forbid her this research, when the Mistress Alchemist was heading a peak of engineers and dreamers and people that would create anything as long as they were inspired, and their lone answer to the question why would be why the fuck not .

That wasn’t his place to tell her no – not when her very calling was concerned.

(and she looks so animated when she’s rambling about research avenues and how she plans to hammer the obstacles on her path into submission, her face lacking a smile but her eyes bright and shining, and nothing will ever make her more than a plain face but in these moments she’s so happy she looks almost pretty)

At this moment, Chen Qingxu reeked of annoyed frustration, burnt paper and rancid ink hanging over her head and shoulders like a blackish raincloud about to burst and flood the crops into rotting waste.

« It just won’t work  » she sneered. « I am pretty sure the base notes are to blame – do you know, a perfume basically is music ? »

Shen Qingqiu raised his brows, genuinely surprised.

« Since this Master has never smelled anything when he was playing the guqin, no, he wasn’t suspecting something from this kind » he earnestly admitted.

« That’s fascinating » the Mistress Alchemist mused, « three sets of notes, coming together to create an accord in the shape of an harmonious scent. These notes unfold with time, the immediate impression of the head notes leading to the deeper heart notes, and the base notes gradually appearing as the final stage. Since these base notes are usually not perceived until a quarter of a shichen after application but won’t evaporate for a long time, I thought I just had to use them as a filter, won’t that be logical ? »

« A filter for what ? » the Qing Jing Peak Lord asked, fascinated in spite of himself – he wasn’t an Alchemist, he wasn’t a perfumer, but the way she explained her endeavour, anyone would want to learn more.

« Well, for the person wearing the perfume’s original pheromones » the female zhongyong said. « Everyone will feel scared or pissed off or happy or whatnot, but if you are going to smell of coriander or lavender or jasmine or mint, it wildly diverges according the individual, doesn’t it ? So this Alchemist wanted to use the base notes to change that – turning a fruity smell into a grassy one, that shouldn’t be that complicated, or at least it wasn’t supposed to be. Not like if I tried to convince rose water it should reek like civet musk ! »

« So what is going wrong ? » Shen Qingqiu wondered, because he could see his shimei’s cheeks reddening in righteous anger.

« What’s going wrong, is that no matter how thin the base coating, it completely and utterly smothers the pheromones » Chen Qingxu spat. « No moods to perceive if you cannot produce the indicators at all, in truth ! I only managed to approximate something like a result once, and it stunk so weirdly I went cross-eyed for the whole day – not a metaphor, I timed the reaction... »

Somebody knocked at the office’s door.

« Shizun ? Since Shen-shibo apparently is there to discuss with you, does someone have to bring tea ? » a youthful voice asked in a very uncertain tone.

« That’s a good idea » the Mistress Alchemist admitted. « Do this thing, Zhuli. »

« My name isn’t Zhuli, Shizun... »

« Your name is whatever I say it is » the Ling Shu Peak Lord fired back. « Now will you do it, or are you staying there and badly eavesdropping on your Shizun and Shen-shibo ? »

« And Yue-zhangmen accuses me from being too harsh with my Disciples » Shen Qingqiu commented while footsteps sounded in the corridor. « At least this Master remembers their names. »

A former slave brat knew how powerful and important a name would be, after all.

« There’s no point in remembering a young idiot’s name if said idiot poisons or explodes themselves in their first year on my Peak » Chen Qingxu snorted. « That’s a long-entrenched policy, my own Shifu actually needed for me to remind him of my surname when he had to pick his successor and decided I would suffice. »

Shen Qingqiu’s heart had been hardened by his shitty life, but he couldn’t call that anything else than sad. Especially when his own Shizun had helped him to choose a surname of his own.

Chapter Text

Shen-shixiong plotted something.

Chen Qingxu wasn’t stupid – she was hopelessly uninterested in social dealings and focused on Alchemy to such a degree Mu-shidi openly called it unhealthy, but she was far from being an idiot. She could sniff a plot when she stumbled upon one, and Shen-shixiong hadn’t been very subtle when he suggested a distraction from the infuriating problem of the scent-replacing perfume.

He wanted to know if she could create some kind of flesh doll that would look like someone else, close enough to let people believe the doll was this person as long as they didn’t try to discuss with it. It was possible – the Mistress Alchemist had heard of a mushroom able to grow a body if one infused it with qi, or maybe it was blood ? She would have to deeply dive in her scrolls and compendiums to refresh her memory…

She could produce a flesh doll, if she was allowed to use a few droplets of blood and a few materials that would recreate a womb and accelerate the growth until the doll’s age approximated the original donor’s. Of course, such quick development would strain the muscles and bones and organs and it would prevent the doll from gaining sentience and intellect, but she had the strong feeling Shen-shixiong couldn’t care less about these pesky details.

She had the strong feeling Shen-shixiong wanted the flesh doll in order to fool the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect into believing he suffered some kind of awful qi deviation, or maybe he just would slaughter the doll and leave a very convincing corpse behind while he discreetly lived his best life as a highly sought courtesan in the Red Warm Pavilion.

Chen Qingxu – couldn’t actually blame the Qing Jing Peak Lord for seeking a loophole in the rule that wanted for the ruling Peak Lords’ generation to retire together, unless one was already dead. Sure, the kunze claiming to be a zhongyong wasn’t universally loathed no matter what he believed, but when one had to endure a few stubbornly hostile people that wouldn’t stop coming after you and grinding your self-esteem into dust, alongside a persistently useless man who wouldn’t stop wallowing in his guilt and inadequacy complex to actually listen to you, well…

Shen Qingqiu was ungodly patient and filled with determination, but even the Buddha would lose his temper after being slapped thrice, and the Qing Jing Peak Lord had been verbally slapped and trod upon much, much more often than three times.

So he would leave the Tian Gong Twelve Peaks, and Chen Qingxu couldn’t – she wouldn’t blame him for this decision. She understood his reasoning, she could even absentedly marvel at the fact he finally came at this conclusion on his own, so she wouldn’t blame him.

She would help him by creating a flesh doll – he just needed to warn her when he would have to use it, growing a whole living being took several months at the very least even when one rushed it and the Mistress Alchemist already wanted to scream in sheer horror at the possibility of botching the work, she had her pride after all, why the flying fuck did she let him drag her into that kind of mess ?

Why in the Eighteen Hells was she unable to tell him no ? That wasn’t like they were bonded – she had been adamant on her refusal to bond with anyone, be they Immortal Master or Disciple or prostitute or a slave picked off the streets, and Shen-shixiong had been alright with that, had never pushed on the matter. They weren’t bonded, they barely tolerated each other because he would feed her fish and meat and provide interesting challenges and she would keep his secrets in exchange.

So really, Chen Qingxu couldn’t blame him for leaving Cang Qiong – she understood why he was doing it after all, and that wasn’t like he owed her anything. Shen-shixiong was very peculiar about paying his debts, imaginary and real alike, she would know if he considered himself indebted to her and only then she would have allowed herself to tell him…

To tell him what ? There was nothing between the Ling Shu Peak Lord and the Qing Jing Peak Lord, and that was because Chen Qingxu had wished it. She wouldn’t bond with Shen Qingqiu – with anyone – she just couldn’t, what would be the point anyway ?

She tried when she was younger and more of a foolish dumbass than her present self. She went towards people – her mother and her father’s people and later her Shizun and the Disciples busy studying on Ling Shu and the hallmasters busy watching over them and the Disciples on the other Peaks and even the mortal shopkeepers when she had free time to do her grocery runs.

She tried and they first would be nice to her, only to float away like bubbles on the stream, and she couldn’t understand what was so wrong with her, she tried so many variants and permutations but she failed every time.

It was a few months before she was officially named as her Shizun’s heir and successor that she ultimately threw the towel. If she wasn’t able to stay in step with the group no matter how much she struggled to achieve this, if she wasn’t able to find the right step to begin with, then it was better for Chen Qingxu to hold herself apart.

It was better this way – who needed feelings when one was busy experimenting with alchemical reagents ? Who cared about having feelings when it would impede your ability to process information and come to a logical conclusion ? The Ling Shu Peak Lord wasn’t unhappy when she was at her workstation and yelling after her Disciples for destroying yet another lab in an eardrum-shattering explosion or an acidic flood, she did her job good enough for Zhangmen-shixiong to raise no complains regarding her performance, and that should have been the end of it.

That had been the end of it, until Shen-shixiong stumbled into her tidy, neat little existence and thoroughly dragged her into his chaotic mess of a life, and she honestly couldn’t swear she wasn’t a mite tired from running behind him, trying to keep pace.

(but it’s the first time she’s actually running with someone, with a lot of someones because this isn’t about a-Jiu on his own anymore, isn’t it, there is also Yuan’er and the Wu twins who beg her for tips about poisons and aphrodisiacs and Madam Tang who treats her to plum wine while she laments over a-Jiu’s foibles and all the other whores smiling and asking how is she doing, of course we wonder about your health, you’re basically a regular)

(she thinks she hates them a bit for this because she got used to the cold, the loneliness, and now here they are and maybe she doesn’t have to be so cold anymore but she thought she wouldn’t find warmth for so long and it gives her the urge to scream, where have you been all this time, how did you dare to stay hidden when I still was hoping I could belong and then appear when I am resigned to my fate)

(she thinks she hates them a bit but what would be the point, and she’s far too aware that she would have never known anything approximating warmth without them)

So Shen-shixiong would leave Cang Qiong. Big deal, as if it would actually impact her – as if she could complain about it, she wasn’t bonded to him, she was barely worth to call herself his martial sister, even if the beastling insisted to name her Auntie Mao but he still wore diapers and people would call Auntie any woman too old to be Sister yet too young to be Granny.

She was nothing to Shen-shixiong, nothing beyond a convenient accomplice, she had wanted it this way so she couldn’t bemoan and throw a hissing fit, wouldn’t that be the pinnacle of hypocrisy ?

She couldn’t cry over her shixiong’s departure – she was pretty sure she forgot how to produce tears, anyway.

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan got used to be the youngest person living in the Red Warm Pavilion – it would take several years at the very least for him to be above the legal age for a girl to start her training as a courtesan.

It was a depressingly low number. Judging from some comments he heard while he pretended to be asleep, his nannies and the cleaning maids were always careful about what they were saying around him in a misguided attempt to protect his innocence, it was possible for a girl to be sold to a brothel or forced into streetwalking when she was barely ten years old. Some madams were actual decent human beings and waited for the poor mite to grow breasts and look more like a woman than a freaking child, some didn’t because they only cared about raking money and paedophiles would pay through the nose for the opportunity to fulfill their depraved cravings.

Shen Yuan couldn’t believe how lucky he was for his grandma to not be the kind of woman that would doll him up and force him to sit on a pig’s lap – yes, he wasn’t even five years old, and no, it wasn’t enough to stop the most horrendous perverts of them all. But the Madam had a very strict policy, and that was for no girl to move beyond the apprentice stage until she was fifteen, still far too young for modern criterias yet not as awful as ten years old.

It didn’t prevent Grandma Tang from buying girls younger than this point, especially when she decided the girl was wasted on her family, and that was the reason why Shen Yuan was currently stuck with a brat so underfed it was hard to estimate her true age.

Well, it technically wasn’t Grandma Tang who bought the girl. Lin-jie, one of the qianyuan twins, had a business on the side as a money-lender and financial advisor, she claimed she was preparing for the day her looks would fade and it was good for her, and a lot of men came to see her without even wanting to lay a finger upon a body, wasn’t that impressive ?

Of course, sometimes it went wrong because the customer was a fucking bad apple without the common sense to listen the advice he asked for, and it ended up with wasted gold the dumbass couldn’t reimburse so he was ready to sell his flesh and blood to a life of sexual slavery for his sins.

Lin-jie didn’t seem very impressed about her customer’s moral character. Shen Yuan was pretty sure it was part of the reason why she wrote to the local Magistrate for the guy to be thrown in the debtor’s jail, right after the fact that such an idiot deserved for his bad investments’ consequences to be rubbed in his face.

Lin-jie had kept the girl – otherwise the brat would find herself begging in the streets, to be raped or starve or shiver and fight with the dogs and the rats for a dirty corner to sleep. The Red Warm Pavilion peddled flesh, but the whores were warm and fed and Grandma Tang wouldn’t beat them silly for catching a venereal disease or falling pregnant.

If the girl was happy or scared or angry about the new life unfolding in front of her, she wasn’t showing it. She didn’t say a word since Lin-jie had dragged her in Grandma Tang’s office to introduce the new apprentice to the Madam.

Grandma Tang had pinched her lips, then waved for the girl to come closer. After that, the Madam had sniffed the brat’s wrists and neck, scrutinized her facial features and ultimately decided she would do.

« You stink like a pigpen, but there’s potential under this dirt. Since a-Lin brought you there, you will share her bedroom, you will do everything she asks of you, and you won’t complain about her. If she’s not happy with you, maybe I will give you to another flower, maybe I will turn you into a cleaning maid, or maybe I will sell you to another brothel. Do you understand me ? »

The girl had nodded, and Lin-jie had smiled at her new little shadow.

« Good, good ! Now for a bath, meimei, and clean robes too. As one belonging to the Warm Red Pavilion, your first lesson is staying pristine ! No matter how much you personally dislike soap. »

When the older flower went away with the girl, Grandma Tang deeply sighed and stared at Shen Yuan – who was playing on the soft carpet with a few plushies and wooden cubes, it was mind-numbing really but the nannies fretted and fussed when they suspected him from being bored and he didn’t want for them to worry.

« Well, Yuan’er, it seems you will have a meimei. »

Shen Yuan scrunched his nose, hoping his chubby face conveyed his sheer incredulity without being too cute.

« Am smaller » he pointed, only for Grandma Tang to snort.

« You have lived in the Pavilion since the day you were born, while she just was brought there. Therefore, she’s your meimei. Be nice to her, hmm ? »

And that was how he found himself stuck with the new addition to the flower garden in which he had been born and raised. With several nannies keeping a discreet watch over them, because you never knew how children would react when first meeting each other.

The girl was genuinely cute, in spite of her gaunt cheeks and her hollow stare, Lin-jie having combed her brittle, dark brown hair in twin braids and dressed her in a soft yellow skirt embroidered with bats on the hem, and a thick jacket in a slightly darker yellow with blackbirds spreading their wings on the high collar.

Shen Yuan looked at her and tried to picture her in five years, her face painted and glittering hairpins jutting from her bun and her body carefully wrapped in soft silks aiming to tantalize and suggest more than cover her. He couldn’t manage.

He plopped himself on the plump cushion besides her.

« Hey. What's your name ? » he asked in his most businesslike voice, internally cringing because it was so high-pitched.

She stared at him. You would believe Shen Yuan was the Jade Rabbit jumping down from the Moon to grant her a pill of immortality, and the reincarnated soul firmly trampled the need to squirm and fidget under her gaze.

« … Meimei is fine » she tonelessly said.

« S’not a name » Shen Yuan complained, because she was a person and she needed a name.

« Better than… being reminded of before. »

Ah – so that was it. See, Shen Yuan read a lot of novels, and you couldn’t ever overestimate the importance of a name for a character. Be it for the foreshadowing, or the character wanting to redefine themselves or seeking to clutch the past close to their chests.

Obviously the girl – Meimei – wasn’t interested in being her father’s daughter anymore, and it was hard to blame her when her life crashed around her ears and left her with nothing but the knowledge that the man who sired her had no qualms selling her into slavery from the worst kind, the kind in which your own body didn’t belong to you.

Shen Yuan climbed on her lap, and she slightly startled, blinking uncomprehending eyes down at the toddler sprawled on her legs.

« Meimei is sad » Shen Yuan said, channeling his energy into appearing a hopelessly cute, naive brat that would give you so much cavities it would make your dentist the wealthiest person in the universe. « So I hug you, and you're not sad anymore. Okay ? »

She blinked again, then raised her head to seek some help among the other flowers in the room. Only for said flowers to softly giggle in their sleeves and fondly roll their eyes, sorry girl, this Yuan’er really loves his cuddles and he cannot stand someone sad in his near vicinity.

Better get used to it.

Chapter Text

« Really, this one cannot understand why Mistress Alchemist dislikes osmanthus jellies. They’re so good, especially when prepared by our cook ! »

Chen Qingxu snorted in her tea cup.

« There’s nothing to understand. Some people won’t stand sweets, that’s all. »

« Such a sad life » the whore sitting in front of her bemoaned, but she nonetheless plucked yet another of the translucent treats and popped it in her painted mouth.

Sometimes, the Ling Shu Peak Lord truly wondered how she came to that, sharing tea with a courtesan in a brothel. Yes, she got involved with the Red Warm Pavilion because of Shen-shixiong’s unfortunate mishap with the newt culling, but it wasn’t enough a reason for her to be dragged into such activities !

In the back of her mind, she was aware it was her fault – she came back to visit her dumbass shixiong and worry over his health and his brat, and now the whores calling the establishment their home basically acted as if she was a friend.

(as if she’s truly Shen-shixiong’s sister, the beastling’s aunt, as if she’s family to them and the whores love a-Jiu and Yuan’er, of course they love someone they call family)

This bitch Qi Qingqi surely would die from spitting every single drop of blood hoarded in her body, if she could see the scene. Chen Qingxu idly mused about actually sending her an invitation to witness her in all her shameless, spiteful glory – surely the courtesans would approve the scheme, even if the city benefitted from the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect claiming the county as their territory and keeping it free from demons, Huan Hua cultivators and other pests, it didn’t mean the Qing generation was hugely popular in some places. Shen Qingqiu was very much disliked, but the brute Liu Qingge wasn’t exactly well-liked for the mess he wouldn’t stop leaving in his wake, and everyone looked at Yue-zhangmen askew as they wondered if he would go on a rampage this week or the next, no qianyuan could genuinely be that polite and self-restrained for so long before blowing up after all.

Alas, the bitch dying would set the other Peak Lords on her back, because it was supposedly a bad thing to murder your martial siblings or arrange everything for their demise to happen. Chen Qingxu for the love of the Ancestors couldn’t understand why, especially when they were fucking annoying, but she was smart enough to not willingly go and seek to heap complications upon her own head. A bit less than a dozen cultivators among the most powerful specimens in the jianghu arrayed against her definitely sounded like trouble.

« Mistress Alchemist ? »

« What ? »

The whore – Yinghua, that was her name, a silly thing who occasionnally was more childish than the toddler living under the same roof than her, what an achievement – was frowning the tiniest bit, something like apprehension floating in her smell.

« I was thinking… Mistress Alchemist is very smart, isn’t she ? Just like our a-Jiu. »

« Of course » the Ling Shu Peak Lord said – she didn’t boast, she didn’t even put a show of false humility, because it was nothing but the truth, nothing but a requirement when one wanted to climb their way to the top of the engineer’s peak and the scholar’s peak.

The courtesan seemed ready to bite on her lower lip – not a very graceful or endearing mannerism for one who peddled her own flesh, that. At least, that was Chen Qingxu’s opinion on the matter, but she was gifted with an eunuch’s heart, so maybe some people enjoyed kissing bruised and bloody mouths.

« Yuan’er is a smart child » Yinghua mused. « So very smart, one only has to look in his eyes and one knows he’s thinking hard. »

The Alchemist rolled her eyes.

« A-Jiu whelped the brat, it should tell you anything there is to know about his wits. If Shen-shixiong had conceived stupid offspring, his own body would have rebelled and miscarried the fetus long before it could be inflicted upon the Middle Kingdom » she flatly commented.

« That sounds like a-Jiu alright » the whore acknowledged. « Such brilliance, and such determination too – how many times did Yuan’er stumble when he was learning the walk ? Yet he refused to cry, he just kept standing up and trying again and again until he finally got it. »

She didn’t sound like a proud sister reminiscing about her adoptive sibling’s progress, she actually smelled slightly puzzled, maybe a bit worried on the edges. Chen Qingxu narrowed her eyes.

« If Yinghua is hoping for this Mistress Alchemist to reassure her, then she’s barking the wrong tree. This one isn’t actually a healer, in spite of your Madam and a-Jiu’s stubborn insistance to the contrary, and has made a point of avoiding whelps since she first bled and was deemed a woman grown. I know absolutely squat about how a brat is supposed to grow up in a mundane setting, and I am unsure about Mu-shidi being more apt to help you. »

Since Mu Qingfang had his hands full with the other Peaks suffering various mishaps and disasters, he likely had forgot the bits and pieces of healing that wasn’t geared towards a cultivator’s health and well-being. Chen Qingxu was aware of the mind being very different from a qiankun pouch – one couldn’t stuff everything within and not stretch it to the limits, one had to pick and select the contents to carefully hoard and preserve.

The whore sighed and massaged her forehead with the tips of her fingers, smearing white powder on her nails – she would need to correct this when the break for tea would end, or she would be quite embarrassed in front of her customers, a courtesan needed to be pristine and immaculate when she appeared, Madam Tang very much insisted on this point. Apparently she thought her flowers would do better if they considered themselves living artwork instead of a warm cunt and a pair of titties, and it seemed to work very well for the Red Warm Pavilion.

« This Yinghua… she wasn’t asking for that, after so many time spent with a-Jiu and Mistress Alchemist, she’s aware of your character. She just… the world isn’t really kind to people when they’re smart, and poor. »

Chen Qingxu slowly sipped a mouthful of tea before gently putting the cup on the low table.

« No, it’s not » she admitted.

The world was build on castes : there was the wealthy and the poor, the zhongyong and the kunze and the qianyuan, there was the once-in-a-century genius and the village idiot, the female and the male, the ruler and the oppressed.

The world wasn’t kind to people wishing to break the mold.

Yinghua was looking at the Ling Shu Peak Lord with her dark eyes, made even darker by the hint of gold dusting her eyelids.

« If you can… will you take him as your student, when he will be old enough ? Yuan’er already knows you, and you would encourage him to do everything he wishes to achieve. »

Chen Qingxu slowly blinked, her heartbeat threatening to go irregular and her palms covered with sudden and unpleasant moistness.

« You’re speaking » she carefully declared, « as if Shen-shixiong won’t strangle me for poaching his brat from under his nose. »

The courtesan giggled, hiding her mouth behind her dainty hand, such long, graceful fingers made for playing the qin.

« Yes, a-Jiu doesn’t like sharing, this little sister is very forgetful. »

She was smiling, and the Mistress Alchemist wondered what kind of reaction she would have when the Qing Jing Peak Lord would decide to let the jianghu believe he perished more or less gruesomely and run away from Cang Qiong. She likely would applaud, the flowers calling the Red Warm Pavilion their home had no fondness for the Qing generation and would see Shen Qingqiu breaking away from them as a reason for celebration.

This tea was disgusting, there was no other explanation for the citrusy taste of bile threatening to smother Chen Qingxu’s tongue.

Chapter Text

You wouldn’t imagine there would be some manner of shrine or altar in the Red Warm Pavilion since it was a brothel, yet there was.

Of course, it was mainly dedicated to female deities. Guanyin was present as a painted wood-carving, because the Universally Shining Great Light of Compassion swore to rescue any soul crying for mercy and never explicitely stated prostitutes didn’t deserve her mercy so no one could prevent the whores from worshipping her, and when you were dealing in the flesh business and endured the appetites of human-faced pigs day after day for years, you really needed some compassion directed your way.

There also was a painted picture of the Lady at the Water’s Edge, who said her parents to go and fuck themselves when they tried to marry her off and ran away to study shamanism and managed to rise rather high as a Daoist nun until her family invoked a loophole to make her come home and accept the wedding, only for her to gloriously spite her husband by using magic to induce an abortion when she fell pregnant, and the asshole couldn’t complain about it since her pain and heavy bleeding forced the white snake demon responsible for the drought afflicting the kingdom to reveal itself, allowing the lady to slay it and die a hero for ending the threat of famine and demonic invasion.

For a bunch of women forced to hear they were worthless unless they could find a man to marry them and bear him children, the Lady at the Water’s Edge was the very denial of the traditional role nobility and scholars and everyone powerful in the Middle Kingdom wanted to become the norm. She had earned her place on the altar.

There also was a picture of Maogu, Lady of the Latrine, a truly unfortunate woman whose husband had been killed by the regional governor because he lusted after her, only for said asshole’s chief wife to grow jealous and murder the poor gal in the toilet out of misplaced jealousy. The Highest Emperor had been pretty appaled by Maogu’s tale and established her as the goddess of toilets everywhere – Shen Yuan really wondered if it could be considered a genuinely honourable job, because you know, toilets tend to stink, don’t they ? Still, Maogu was a goddess, and the regional governor and his chief wife were known as criminals, so she likely was happy with that.

There also was a wood carving of a woman sitting on a carp, for the goddess dwelling in the Luo river near – it always was heavily recommanded to give offerings to a river deity because they were temperamental and would flood your town because they felt peckish this morning. Or they would retain the fishes besides them and the peasants would go hungry, and that wasn’t pleasant either.

There was a picture of the Immaculate Maiden holding a zither, in order for her to bestow her blessing upon the flowers entertaining customers with sweet songs and music – the goddess being so skilled, her music would make snow in the hottest summer, and a warm wind blow in the harshest winter. Also, she was so good in bed that the Yellow Thearch wrote a whole book about her, alright it was supposed to be about sex in general, but everyone was aware it actually was about her and how she thoroughly seduced the monarch and enticed him to her bed.

And finally, there was a rather unexpected carving, a smiling, very male god holding a sword in his right hand and a blooming flower in the left one. Shen Yuan had been quite confused by this one until Grandma Tang told him this god ascended to the Heavens as a pampered, spoiled prince, only to be expelled later or maybe he willingly rejected godhood because he was unhappy there, and now was rumored to wander in the Middle Kingdom, picking scrap and assorted garbage and trying to help when he stumbled upon someone struggling to survive in the Mortal Realm.

What a weirdo, and Grandma Tang fully admitted she felt the god was extremely foolish, much more than Guanyin since the Merciful Goddess had the common sense to not reject her divine abilities before going on a crusade against suffering, but she couldn’t deny he was trying to be nice towards measly mortals and that deserved a bit of acknowledgement, wouldn’t you agree, Yuan’er ?

Shen Yuan agreed. Being nice was a much better survival tactic – people enjoyed it when you were polite and listened to them, it made them feel important and respected, it made them feel like they mattered. So when you asked them for help, they would give it because they were grateful, or because they didn’t want to feel guilty for not repaying your kindness.

Something he learnt in his previous life, as the third son of a wealthy family – even if his bad health kept him away from the social scene, he still had ears and a brain to register and analyze his siblings’ reports about the dinners and business meetings and shopping trips they attended – and a precious lesson he would remember no matter how many times he reincarnated.

About rebirth, it really opened his mind to the possibility of gods being actually real – at the very least, there was something after death that caused his soul to be stuck in a xianxia omegaverse. So Shen Yuan would take his chance with the nice, compassionate and helpful deities, as he really wished to avoid being pond scum in his next life. Yes, that was quite selfish a motive, but Shen Yuan never claimed he was deserving of sainthood, he was a mere spoiled brat who had been too sickly to indulge into the Chinese golden youth’s usual depravities !

He still was more devout than his mother who seemed to bear a grudge against the gods, judging from his discrete sneer and the hint of rot in his sweet fruity perfume everytime someone talked about the Upper Realm around the grown kunze. Since a-Niang was struggling to feed himself and his whelp by selling his charms to sweating, lusty pigs that dreamed to reduce him to their breathing, exclusive sex doll, it wasn’t hard to understand why he might have a slight problem with the guys apparently tasked to write mortal fates and distribute luck around – he was given a pretty crappy hand in life.

Of course, a-Niang wouldn’t let that stop him from carving his happiness one piece at the time. He might dress in pretty silks, but his soul was cold iron to the core – the kind of iron that slaughtered fae and demons and monsters by droves, and that was before being forged into steel.

Shen Yuan was more devout than Aunt Mao, too. When he asked her what was her opinion regarding the Upper Realm, she snorted and pinched his earlobe.

« They don’t give a flying fuck about this Mistress Alchemist, so this Mistress Alchemist has no feelings whatsoever on the matter of gods, and we are quite happy with such an arrangement » she casually revealed. « Maybe they will want to express displeasure with me when I will finally die, but I won’t let it happen for a very, very long time, I assure you. »

He couldn’t argue against that, really. Dying once was enough for him, he wasn’t in a hurry to repeat the experience – and that was a pretty good argument for joining a sect and cultivate a golden core, even if he never really achieved Immortality, he wouldn’t die before two hundreds years and that was a lot of time for doing everything he wanted to do and grow bored of life.

Or maybe he wouldn’t, because the world contained so much surprises, you couldn’t explore and find all of them in a lifetime or several. Immortal Masters in the stories never went bored, they actually tended to get annoyed because people just wouldn’t stop inventing new ways to maim themselves or implode the mountain range !

Yes, maybe he would keep living.

Chapter Text

Why the fuck am I still here ? It’s stuffy, the bitch just won’t stop glaring at me, there’s a fly buzzing behind this painting because it’s too stupid to find its way out of the room without a map and a guide holding its legs and I am pretty sure one of the Disciples working on the Full Moon animated guardians is going to screw up and cause a rampage that will need three months of repairs…

If Shang Qinghua tries to whine about the repairs, I still can offer to loan him one of the animated guardians after programming it to be a menial. The silly rat would love it, a hard worker without need for breaks or wages…

Such were Chen Qingxu’s current thoughts, instead of focusing on the current meeting between Peak Lords. Several of her peers likely would be irked by her utter irreverence if they could read her mind, but on the other hand, she came instead of secluding herself in her workshop like she did for so many years after gaining her exalted position, so they couldn’t actually complain about her behaviour when she was showing signs of improvement.

Well, they called that improvement – the Mistress Alchemist was bent on calling her own behaviour the dreadful hints of her slow descent into insanity, something that caused her a lot of grief.

Maybe she ought to have abandoned Shen-shixiong in that brothel, all these years ago – how many ? It was common for an Immortal to lose their grasp on the flow of time, especially when it wasn’t related to their main occupation – then she wouldn’t be stuck in these circumstances.

Speaking of Shen-shixiong, the kunze who insisted to disguise himself as a zhongyong – one day, Chen Qingxu would finally perfect her false perfume, and she would break a whole bottle over Shen-shixiong’s head to showcase how superior her craft was, especially when compared to low-level brewers affiliated with the black market – was regally fanning his face, his half-lidded eyes glinting above the painted silk while Song Qingshi from the Ku Xing Peak was scowling and crossing his arms.

Crud. What did she miss ? Ah, it likely wasn’t that important, Shen-shixiong enjoyed riling people up until they drew their swords and screamed for his blood or his head. Sometimes, the Mistress Alchemist wondered if he enjoyed spreading strife because it was either that, or he was hopelessly unable to read the mood and the latter was quite worrying for the Cang Qiong Mountain’s foremost strategist.

« As usual, Shen-shixiong spares no one in his unforgiving harshness » the monk declared, his tone mild as befit one who did his best to rise above mankind’s foibles but his smell tinged with unmistakable annoyance.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord snorted as his fan continued to lazily wave in the air.

« This Master is as merciful towards fellow beings as Song-shidi himself » he fired back, and his voice positively dripped with poisonous sweetness, it was a minor miracle for the floor to not have been set on fire already. « Indeed, one who strives to comprehend Heaven and Earth, and Song-shidi certainly is an authority on the matter, ought to cherish all living beings with the same amount of care. Alas, the human heart holds compassion in limited amounts, and so you can imagine the result. »

« What an interesting viewpoint » the monk said. « You know, Shen-shixiong, sometimes this lowly one wonders what would have happened if you had been taken on Ku Xing Peak to correct your cultivation, instead of being whisked away on Qing Jing Peak. »

« What a fucking disaster it would have been. »

That was only when eleven pairs of eyes stared at her that Chen Qingxu realized she just uttered this sentence out loud. She blinked.

« What ? Shen-shixiong perfectly knows he would have driven the hallmasters to burn their monk attires and their books on the Way and its characteristics » she sniffed. « Do not even think about denying it, lying doesn’t suit you. »

The Qing Jing Peak Lord glared at the Mistress Alchemist. It should have been intimidating, but the effect was utterly ruined by the flat perfume lathered on his skin and clothes, and her knowledge that Shen Qingqiu would verbally eviscerate a female but would never truly dare lay a hand upon her – if you asked Chen Qingxu, it was a senseless waste where Qi Qingqi was concerned.

« This lord has no use for lying » he spat, and the Ling Shu Peak Lord almost choked from sheer outrage but an iron-clad mastery of her bodily functions saved her.

Instead, she rose from her seat and walked to the hidden kunze, her step graceful and languid and very much like a landslide about to swallow the tiny village built on the mountain, or a tiger stalking its prey in the moist forest.

« A-Jiu » she hissed as she entered the Qing Jing Peak Lord’s personal space to the point that their noses were almost touching, « you did not just say that, or this humble Alchemist will have to rip your golden core through your asshole in order to use it in her next experiment regarding the Nascent Soul stage. »

« This lord has no use for lying to you » Shen Qingqiu amended, this unrepentant twit, and she wanted to lick his nose to punish his hypocrisy.

« But he does have use for infuriating this poor, downtrodden Alchemist who’s losing her wits from dealing with him, oh yes ? »

« A-ah, Chen-shijie ? Shen-shixiong ? »

Shang Qinghua sounded even more squeaky than usual, one would believe he was ready to faint and die on the spot.

« What ? » Shen Qingqiu snapped without energy.

« Chen-shijie is almost sitting on Shen-shixiong’s lap ! » Shi Qingxuan breathed, so giddy his words were almost impossible to understand.

The Ling Shu Peak Lord lowered her eyes and realized her gender-confused martial sibling was right, one step more and she would fall on the man.

Slowly, deliberately, willingly refusing to consider the consequences, Chen Qingxu sat down on Shen Qingqiu’s lap. It was warm and quite comfy, all these silken layers he was draping on himself were good for something after all.

« Chen-shimei » Yue-zhangmen asked, his tone serene as the ocean right before a tidal wave, « what are you doing exactly ? »

« Sitting down » she blandly answered, because that was the truth and really, Yue-zhangmen was smarter than that, he had eyes to see, so why was he asking ?

« On Shen-shixiong’s lap  » Shi Qingxuan pointed, his eyes gleaming and his body quivering with excitement to the point his outline threatened to blur.

Qi Qingqi’s jaw gaped so wide, you could number every single teeth in her mouth and wasn’t that the pinnacle of unelegance for a fairy ? Song Qingshi had turned into marble, his face blank enough to endure a millenia of rainwater and moss growth and bird shit without turning smooth, Mu Qingfang was patting Fan Qingxing’s hand in a very obvious attempt to prevent her from suffering a qi deviation, and Wei Qingwei was fidgeting in a way indicating he wanted to jump on his sword and ran away from this whole mess, smart man.

« You cannot do that ! »

Liu Qingge, for everyone’s misfortune, had been gifted with more bravery than brains. Chen Qingxu felt her smell turn burning and rancid without her input, and she was far too irked to reign it in.

« This Mistress Alchemist can, or she wouldn’t be sitting right now. Oh ! Liu Qingge isn’t speaking of the practical part of the endeavour, is he ? He’s saying this Mistress Alchemist shouldn’t do that » she snorted.

« You really shouldn’t » the War God groused from between his gritted teeth. « That’s not – proper. »

« Yet it’s proper for Liu Mingyan to sit on Liu Qingge’s lap ? » Chen Qingxu fired back – fuck, she needed to calm down, why was she so pissed, she ought to have more control, she needed to control herself, needed to quiet down.

« That’s not the same ! » Liu Qingge barked. « Mingyan is my sister, but you don’t even have a bond with Shen Qingqiu ! »

Chen Qingxu’s breath hiccuped.

It burned.

Why did it burn ?

Something thick and metallic-scented dripping from her nostril.

Dripping in her throat ?

Oh , she thought with an eerie serenity, a qi deviation, but that’s more Shen-shixiong’s speed, isn’t it ?

« A-Jiu » she managed to whisper, « a-Jiu, help. »

Her vision filled with white noise.

Chapter Text

Sometimes Mu Qingfang regretted to have accepted when his Shifu declared he was the best choice as a successor to the position of Qian Cao Peak Lord. Alright, a physician from his skill level would have been sent to the Imperial Court or another snake pit created by the nobility, but at least he would have been spared his martial siblings’ dramatic antics.

He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry in front of Chen Qingxu being so blatantly, shamelessly clingy and affectionate with Shen Qingqiu while the other Peak Lords looked ready to throw a fit – mainly Liu Qingge, Qi Qingqi and Zhangmen-shixiong – or to faint from sheer shock – Shang Qinghua, Fan Qingxing, Song Qingshi and Wei Qingwei.

Well, Shi Qingxuan grinned as a madwoman and obviously lamented the lack of melon seeds to go with the spectacle, while Huang Qingdao who was heading the Divination Peak barely noticed what was happening around her as usual, the woman lived so much in the future that she utterly forgot she was also inhabiting the present.

Then blood escaped from Chen Qingxu’s nose in a thin rivulet to drip on her stained apron, her face paling and becoming alike a death mask, her body tipping forwards and avoiding to crash on the floor merely because of Shen-shixiong’s grip on her waist.

« Mu-shidi ! » the Qing Jing Peak Lord barked, but the physician didn’t need more, already he had jumped on his feet and ran to his martial sister’s side.

He barely heard the clamour in his back, trusting that Wei Qingwei would keep everyone at bay while he was doing the necessary.

The Mistress Alchemist’s wrist was clammy yet her meridians burned, a mountain set ablaze by a lightning strike, her golden core groaning under the pressure and growing brittle, iron about to turn in molten slag.

Mu Qingfang bared his teeth.

« Qi deviation » he announced, and Shen-shixiong softly and fouly cursed under his breath. « Not yet critical, but it’s about to become a bad one. »

The Qing Jing Peak Lord narrowed his eyes, glaring daggers with his poisonous green irises, yet his smell stubbornly refused to gain an inkling of weight or colour and the physician exhaled through the mouth to stamp the nausea rising up his trachea.

« Everyone but Shen-shixiong out » he loudly commanded, « this one needs space to treat his patient ! »

Zhangmen-shixiong might be the one in charge of the Tian Gong Twelve Peaks as a political entity, but when someone was sick or injured in Cang Qiong’s jurisdiction then the Highest Emperor himself would bow down to Mu Qingfang, no complains accepted. The other Peak Lords swiftly fled the room, Wei Qingwei being the last to go as he ensured the departure wasn’t met with too much struggle.

Really, any healer ought to have a burly blacksmith to intimidate unruly patients into obedience, it made for a much smoother treatment.

Mu Qingfang slowly breathed and focused on his fallen martial sister, helplessly laying on Shen-shixiong’s chest.

« What happened ? » the Qing Jing Peak Lord hissed, and his voice promised terrible retribution – Liu Qingge was about to have a very bad time, very soon, for being the one who was quarreling with the Mistress Alchemist when she was pushed into her qi deviation.

And Mu Qingfang actually suspected the War God from triggering the qi deviation, accidentally, yes, but he nonetheless was responsible since he accused the Ling Shu Peak Lord from not being bonded to her shixiong from Qing Jing.

Bonds were horrendously complex, and that was why Mu Qingfang had refused to intervene in the Alchemist and the scholar’s growing relationship – he couldn’t push them to confront the truth of the matter, it might have caused the bond to break, it might have driven Chen Qingxu to become abusive out of loathing for being shackled when she held long-established distaste for the prospect, it might have forced Shen Qingqiu into a comatose state since his foundation was so prone to heart demons. So the Qian Cao Peak Lord had left them on their own and hoped they would keep growing at their pace without suffering a mishap on the road.

Then Liu Qingge dropped on them with all the subtlety of an irate bull in a porcelain shop. Mu Qingfang felt the temptation to poke the War God’s acupoints with a few needles, but these were already needed to keep Chen Qingxu’s lifeforce in a torpid state instead of letting it rage and turn boiling, hot enough for her flesh to bubble and sizzle and blacken on her bones.

Well, Liu Qingge started it, Mu Qingfang would have to finish it. Maybe it would be for the best, one couldn’t stay alone forever, and denial wasn’t a very sound state of mind.

« Shen-shixiong. This one will ask you to share your qi with our martial sister. »

« How much ? » the Qing Jing Peak Lord curtly asked.

« Not a lot, don’t worry. You don’t have to be a downpour to save the harvest, be a gentle drizzle and this healer will tell you if she needs more. »

The scholar sniffed in front of the agrary metaphor but did as he was told. That was the easy part – now would be more complicated. Now would need for Mu Qingfang to be tricky, to put Chen Qingxu in front of the unescapable facts, the Mistress Alchemist would only deal in cold, harsh truths and thus, if he forced her to acknowledge the bond, if he made her aware there was a bond to begin with…

« Chen-shijie ? Can Chen-shijie hear me ? »

A soft grunt. The freckled face wasn’t slack anymore, brows furrowed together to approximate a bewildered frown.

« Good » Mu Qingfang said. « Very good. Can Chen-shijie move her fingers ? Squeeze my hand ? »

She did – a slight pressure, but it was enough, and the frown grew more pronounced.

« Very good ! Now, Chen-shijie, can you picture your Ling Shu Peak in your mind ? You are on the rainbow bridge, walking back from the monthly meeting. Do you see the smoke and fog that constantly looms over your peak ? »

« Dumbass Disciples » Chen Qingxu weakly grumbled, « just… won’t stop ‘sploding the cauldrons... »

A smile tugged at Mu Qingfang’s lips as he pointed detail after detail, everything he could remember about the engineering Peak, from the constant hisses and clanks of tools to the stench of oils and herbs, guiding his martial sister through the labyrinth of hastily-repaired workshops and labs and dormitories, can you describe me this building, can you describe me this smell in the air, can you describe me how the ground feels under your shoes ?

The Mistress Alchemist yawned and pouted as she gave detail after detail, her posture relaxing as she sprawled over Shen Qingqiu’s body, the scholar pursuing his lips but diligently injecting his qi into her meridians, a soft watery veil thrown over her rioting qi.

« One last thing, Chen-shijie, if you please, can you describe me the river ? »

Shen-shixiong stiffened, obviously aware of the utter lack of a river on the Ling Shu Peak, but the healer stayed focused on the Alchemist who shifted.

« No… river ? » she mumbled, her tone unsure.

« Yes, there is » the healer gently said, « you just couldn’t see it before. But it is there, waiting for you, can you feel it ? Can you see it ? »

Chen Qingxu’s breathing hiccuped, just like it did before the qi deviation attacked her meridians, and both men in the room tensed.

« Peaches… ? »

A tiny whisper, filled with baffled fondness. Mu Qingfang pounced on the hint.

« You smell peaches, Chen-shijie ? »

« Blossoms » she breathed. « On the trees. White blossoms above the green. White blossoms in the green. Green water. White and green. A-Jiu… a-Jiu’s colours. »

She giggled. Chen Qingxu, the Ling Shu Peak Lord who had no qualms stealing corpses for her experiments and remorselessly poisoned her martial siblings – actually giggled.

« A-Jiu » she repeated. « A-Jiu’s colors. A-Jiu’s river. »

« Yes » the healer confirmed, « that’s Shen-shixiong’s river. You feel it, don’t you ? »

And he felt her stretching towards this river, towards Shen-shixiong through their bond, unacknowledged yet present and just waiting for one of its creators to notice its existence, so frail yet already so deeply entrenched…

And Chen Qingxu felt it, and Shen Qingqiu felt it, and both of them startled, their breaths stopping and blending together in a small surprised sound.

«  Oh.  »

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu was used to Chen Qingxu sprawling on him – indeed, he basically treated every occurrence of it as if the frumpy zhongyong female was one of the many cats calling the Qing Jing Peak home, the animals thoroughly enjoyed jumping on a Disciple’s lap when they were studying in the library – what he wasn’t used was her doing it publically.

No, her straddling him in the Red Warm Pavilion didn’t count, Madam Tang and her flowers provided the only shreds of intimacy in Shen Qingqiu’s life. But the other Peak Lords getting to see her being so familiar with him… well.

Shen Qingqiu wanted to spit venom at everyone else in the room, even Chen Qingxu for putting him in such a situation, couldn’t she understand she was throwing oil on the fires of rumour painting him as a lecher ? Yet on the other side she was claiming him in front of ten peaks from the Tian Gong mountain range, and his treacherous body just wanted to bask in the sheer pleasure of someone craving physical contact with him, even something as simple and chaste as sitting on his lap.

These feelings were very much conflicting, enough for him to idly wonder if he would suffer a qi deviation in the near future. Then Chen Qingxu went and fell prey to the affliction when he was supposed to be the designated victim, for fuck’s sake, what was she thinking, this twit ?

(Shen Jiu outwardly snarls and curses but his heartbeat is rabbit-quick in his fingertips and his throat, he knows how dangerous, how far-reaching in the aftermath a qi deviation can be since he just won’t stop having them, he can bear with it, he can live with it, but seeing it happen to Xiao Mao, he just cannot )

Fortunately, Mu Qingfang was right there. Shen Qingqiu might have issues with the Qian Cao Peak Lord, but said issues were entirely caused by the other man’s gender rather than his ability and skill as a physician and healer. Chen Qingxu would be fine under his care.

Well, the male kunze felt his trust slightly waver when the doctor added a river to the Ling Shu Peak’s description because what ? Was that some kind of new treatment to evaluate if the patient’s wits hadn’t fully leaked out of their ears ? If so, then the Mistress Alchemist was failing it, as she babbled about the river reminding her of Shen Qingqiu, it might have been interpretated as poetic metaphor but the scholar knew his shimei sorely lacked any hint of skill in poetry.

Then she tugged on the qi he was sending to her – no, the qi circulating in his own body – no, the qi nestled in his golden core – his golden core – the soul nestled in his golden core – his soul, she was reaching for his soul what the freak –

Then he saw it, felt it, and it very much was river-shaped, actually, green and flowing and graceful and gleaming in soft patterns when the light hit it at the perfect angle and linking both of them together.

«  Oh.  »

Shen Qingqiu wanted to shy away. He wanted to push Chen Qingxu on the cold, hard floor – seriously, what the fuck, wasn’t she supposed to hate this, she loudly claimed she cared not for any kind of relationship, why would she lie about that ? He wanted to wrap his hands around Mu Qingfang’s throat and squeeze as strongly as he could, to forever erase this smile on the healer’s smile, the soft expression of someone who was seeing something he already knew dragged into the harsh daylight for everyone to ogle.

« What is that  ? » the Qing Jing Peak Lord barked, sweating under his layers upon layers of silken clothes and he really hoped he wasn’t upset enough for his true smell to dispell the false perfume on his skin and collar.

Mu Qingfang’s smile stubbornly stayed affixed to his face.

« This healer believes Shen-shixiong already knows the answer to his question. Doesn’t he ? »

The urge to puke churned in the hidden kunze’s belly, almost painful in its thunderstorm intensity, and his skin crawled.

« You’re wrong » he flatly declared. « A bond cannot form without one of the two parties wishing for it. And Chen-shimei is extremely open on the fact that she will never agree to such a farce. »

The Qian Cao Peak Lord sighed.

« Indeed, that was her position on the matter since she became a Peak Lord. Yet bonds are extremely complex, and her open refusal to commit to a relationship doesn’t prevent her from craving something else on the subconscious level. »

Once she would awaken, Shen Qingqiu would box the Alchemist’s ears. He would scream at her with such power, she would ascend as a googly-eyed mess and even the greatest healing deity would be unable to fix her…

« Shen-shixiong. Are you really unhappy to be bonded with our Mistress Alchemist ? »

The scholar haughtily snorted. He wanted to hide his face behind his fan, but his hands were far too busy supporting Chen Qingxu on his lap as she slowly swayed, her eyes glassy and unfocused.

« Mu-shidi is operating under a false premise » he spat. « He believes this Master and Chen-shimei have something more than a mercenary agreement. »

« Really, what kind of agreement ? »

They were treading on thin ground, Shen Qingqiu tensed as he wondered how much he could reveal – Mu Qingfang wouldn’t let it go, the healer turned into a hunting hound tracking prey – without outing himself as inhuman, cursed with a cunt and saddled with a wonderful brat that would set fire to the world one day.

« She’s a shameless glutton » he admitted because it wasn’t that dangerous a piece of information. « Be warned, if one wishes for Chen-shimei to tend to their injuries, one will have to grant her a small feast in meat and fish. »

« I would have never guessed » the Qian Cao Peak Lord mused, « she always looks so disgusted when tea is served. Though, one wouldn’t believe she’s from the cuddly bend either... »

« She isn’t » Shen Qingqiu confirmed, « she just drapes herself all over this Master on a whim and she won’t budge when you yell at her to go and take a bath. »

« Yes, she’s not the biggest believer in personal hygiene, but you do know she’s not dirty out of conviction but because her work ethic keeps her chained to her lab station until she has finished her current experiment ? » Mu Qingfang pointed in a long-suffering tone.

« Who cares if it causes her to stink ? » Shen Qingqiu fired back. « And she has the gall to lecture me on my own personal habits when she’s such a mess herself. Really, one has to wonder why one is bothering with her... »

« So why do you ? »

The Qing Jing Peak Lord stiffened. The physician was staring at him, his eyes dark and attentive beneath the rim of his cloth cap.

« Why does Shen-shixiong care about Chen-shijie, if she bothers him as much as he claims ? Wouldn’t it be easier for you to leave her behind ? »

« NO ! »

Why had he screamed ? It was a good point the healer was raising, and wasn’t it what Shen Qingqiu intended anyway, to leave the Mistress Alchemist behind when Yuan’er would be grown enough for mother and child to start a new life in another part of the Middle Kingdom ?

It was a plan he settled on several years ago, so why would he hurt, thinking about it ?

(why would he remember this locked room in the Qiu Manor, Qi-ge leaving him behind but this time this won’t be Xiao Jiu the one abandoned by a careless urchin)

« Why ? » Mu Qingfang pressed forwards, gentle yet unyielding and the former street brat wanted to gouge these dark eyes out. « Why do you care about her ? »

Shen Qingqiu’s throat and eyes were burning, but he wouldn’t throw up and he wouldn’t cry in front of the physician, not Mu Qingfang because for all his skill in healing, he couldn’t trust the man.

Because Mu Qingfang – he never came back for Shen Qingqiu like Chen Qingxu did, and he never gifted butt-ugly shoes to Shen Qingqiu’s brat to fulfill a folk belief, and he never listened Shen Qingqiu bitching and complaining about their so-called martial siblings, and he never learned Shen Qingqiu’s biggest lie and decided to keep quiet instead of denouncing him…

Chen Qingxu did all that, and she snored and drooled when she shared the bed, and she was so careless and cold towards her students that even Shen Qingqiu was uneasy about it, and she often would look at him as if he was a dumbass worse than this Bai Zhan brute, yet it was alright because…

Because…

« Because » Shen Qingqiu choked, « loving your sister, this isn’t a matter of choice, is it ? »

One couldn’t choose to love their sister – you just did .

« No » Mu Qingfang agreed, « that’s not. »

Chapter Text

The river was truly beautiful.

A glittering expanse of deep white and green, both varieties of jade fused together as they lazily flowed under the white canopy of flowering peach trees. It made her think of a story… How did it went ?

Ah, yes. The Peach Blossom Spring, with the fisherman haphazardly sailing into a river in a forest made up entirely of blossoming peach trees, trees enough for the ground to disappear under the silken, light petals. Taohua Yuan Ji, the tale that allowed a-Jiu to name his whelp.

A-Jiu. That was his river, wasn’t it ? It was fitting – the hidden kunze loved beautiful things, that was why he was perfect as the Qing Jing Peak Lord and the Veiled Beauty from the Red Warm Pavilion, both titles granted him access to so many splendid gifts.

The water was cool when she dipped her feet within, yet not so cold that she would refuse to let herself sink under the surface – and she did, because she knew the river would carry her to a-Jiu.

And it did.

Oh.

Oh .

Chen Qingxu hiccuped, her heartbeat bruising her inner ear and her innards twisting themselves into knots as she suddenly remembered Liu Qingge yelling at her for sitting on Shen-shixiong’s lap, as if the fucker wasn’t spoiling the shite out of his bratty little sister, and the blood dripping from her nose while her meridians turned into a raging blaze…

She was supposed to be better than that – she was supposed to have achieved perfect mastery over her emotions ! Qi deviation wasn’t a threat to her, not anymore, because you couldn’t have these if you had no emotions for them to draw upon !

« Actually, this is a glaring mistake, Chen-shijie » Mu Qingfang’s voice intervened, in the tones he used for lecturing a Disciple who just messed up and turned the medicine pill they were preparing into deadly poison. « Heart demons heavily feed on one’s passions, that is much true, yet they won’t spit on the opportunity to strengthen themselves with one’s hidden hypocrisy and behavioural flaws if they can. »

The Mistress Alchemist snorted.

« This » she declared, « is bullshit . »

« This humble healer would rather say, much inconvenient. Ah, well, such is the very nature of disease and injury, to be as unpleasant and annoying as possible for the one afflicted. Now, may Chen-shijie open her eyes ? »

The Ling Shu Peak Lord blinked. Mu Qingfang was looking down at her, peering at her face with the scrunched focus of an engineer waiting to see if his latest project would blow up or merely refuse to work when he would activate it for testing.

« A hundred apologies for the inconvenience » Chen Qingxu said because she knew her manners and felt genuinely ashamed. « This unworthy one shall have to flay Liu Qingge alive for driving her into making such a wretched spectacle of herself. »

« Chen-shijie does remember this Mu Qingfang is sworn to protect his martial siblings’ well-being and health, yes ? » the physician pointed with a hint of dagger in his herbal scent.

« One would think Mu-shidi would give up on the brute, because he certainly doesn’t appreciate your efforts to keep him alive and able to use his limbs » a very familiar voice snarked, and Chen Qingxu shifted.

Shen-shixiong. She was still sitting on his lap – she was laying against his chest – and that was horrendously comfy, actually. Now, if only he wasn’t wearing this disgusting false perfume of dewy bamboo, her eyes threatened to cross themselves from a mere whiff of it…

« Chen-shijie ? Are you chuffing ? »

… Fuck her life by the seven orifices with extra chili oil, she was. While Mu Qingfang was staring – why was she turning into some unrestrained pervert ? It had to be the qi deviation, it could turn the smartest wit into the dumbest shit that could barely breath and walk on their own, why wouldn’t it lower the inhibitions until you believed it was perfectly alright to scream love declarations at every corner of the streets ?

Her nape was white hot with embarrassment, but the happy vocalization just wouldn’t stop. Why was Shen-shixiong refusing to slit her throat open ?

« It’s alright, shijie » Mu Qingfang attempted to soothe her, but he mainly succeded in giving her the urge to cover his freshly-cleaned laundry with a five-coloured masked snake’s venom to let him develop stripes and spots in bright shades all over his body and face. « You’re allowed to be a mite drunk after finalizing your bonding with Shen-shixiong. »

What. Just, what.

Eighteen fucking hells, why would nobody listen in spite of her repeated assertions that she would never bond, she wasn’t the slightest bit interested in bonding, she didn’t need it to be happy ?

The Mistress Alchemist opened her mouth to spit a reminder at the physician’s face –

The words wouldn’t come.

Just –

What ?

Why couldn’t she tell it ?

Wasn’t it the truth ?

She wasn’t –

She was –

Even the Bai Zhan brute could see it, that was what he said, the last thing she heard before her golden core turned against her, that she and Shen-shixiong weren’t –

They weren’t –

They couldn’t be –

« Shijie, can you remember the river ? Do you still feel it ? »

Beautiful green and white lazily flowing under the blossoming trees – she just had to reach out, that was so easy, easier than breathing, and Shen-shixiong shivered all against her, his hands tensing as they gently supported her waist – oh .

Chen Qingxu blinked, her control over her scent slipping through her fingers and letting mulberry paper and floral ink stain themselves in bafflement and confusion, because why, why was it happening, why did it have to be her from all people ?

She knew herself, self-actualization and self-awareness were unavoidable when one treaded the path to Immortality and potentially Ascension. Chen Qingxu was carelessly cruel, she had to remember other people had their own will and weren’t playthings for her to dismantle as she saw fit and still she couldn’t bring herself to be kind to them because it was so exhausting, putting herself in their shoes when their mindset was more alien and infuriating to her than a demon would be.

She was worthy of dread, she was worthy of reverence and awe, but was she worthy of love ? The Ling Shu Peak Lord’s answer to that was a firm and sound no .

So, why ?

She turned her head, her dark eyes meeting Shen-shixiong’s green irises.

« Isn’t the Qing Jing Peak Lord supposed to have impeccable tastes ? » she asked. « Surely a-Jiu can find much better than this lowly Alchemist. »

« How is this Master supposed to find better ? » the scholar fired back. « Xiao Mao is the only one who bothered to come back. »

… That was it ? That was his criteria for bonding, such a silly thing ? Chen Qingxu’s confusion swirled and grew.

« That’s not logical at all  » she complained, a hint of whine under her flat tone.

« Loving and caring for someone are far from logical, shijie » Mu Qingfang intervened. « This isn’t the kind of thing you will ever manage to explain, you can only live them. »

Great, now the physician was philosophing at her. After trapping his laundry, she would have to poison his tea with something that would make his nose-hair frizz and sparkle to teach him a lesson. She was a Mistress Alchemist, she didn’t care for philosophy, Shen-shixiong’s attempts to explain poetry to her only succeeded in boring her…

What was he doing, by the way ? Was he humming ?

Oh, he was chuffing too – obviously a-Jiu couldn’t purr in front of someone not in the know about his true disposition, but chuffing was close enough, she supposed…

It was nice, for their vocalizations to harmonize so.

Chapter Text

Yue Qingyuan’s teeth ached in his mouth.

He was perfectly aware he was acting dumbly, by feeling that annoyed and vexed over Shen Qingqiu growing closer from Chen Qingxu – Xiao Jiu was always on his own, even surrounded by people that were supposed to support and care for him, so it unambiguously was a good thing for one of the Qing generation to bridge the gap and stand her ground on the matter of friendliness with the prickly scholar.

Also, Chen Qingxu for all her worrying tendences wouldn’t genuinely hurt Shen Qingqiu. She was far too smart to shit her own bed – the first lesson every street urchin and slave brat learned, after a few beatings for the idiots, you couldn’t steal or backstab someone right in the street where you were living because the consequences would immediately find you. And Chen Qingxu wasn’t that manipulative, she wouldn’t feign kindness when it was so bothersome for her to remember her manners.

Still. Yue Qingyuan’s teeth ached as he saw her carelessly sitting on Xiao Jiu’s lap, smug and arrogant as a spoiled pet cat claiming someone as their personal provider of entertainement and cuddles and food, as the qianyuan watched the woman so casually entering Xiao Jiu’s personal space and not getting immediately slapped away or submitted to a downpour of insults and curses.

Yue Qingyuan considered it was a good day for him when the Qing Jing Peak Lord allowed for his Sect Leader to approach him until there were a measly three steps between their bodies – and Yue Qingyuan grew quite tall once properly fed, so the steps weren’t that small to begin with.

He wasn’t even allowed to touch Xiao Jiu, but Chen Qingxu was.

His teeth ached, and the feeling worsened when Mu Qingfang finally emerged from the meeting hall to stare at the Peak Lords waiting in the hallway, obviously hungry for news but not daring to ask first what happened to the qi-deviating Alchemist, it would be so vulgar and crass after all.

The physician snorted and crossed his arms, his herbal smell filling with hints of resignation. It tasted like smoky incense.

« Chen-shijie and Shen-shixiong have finalized their bond » he blandly declared.

Yue Qingyuan forced himself to politely smile as Shi Qingxuan squealed in utter joy, clasping her hands together and smelling of fried dough and roasted chestnuts – of course she would, a bonding was a happy occasion, akin to a wedding or sworn brotherhood, people needed to rejoice with the two people concerned.

(in the back of Yue Qi’s mind, deep inside Yue Qi’s mangled core, a frayed ribbon woven from red silk throbs and aches in neglect and longing and envy, why would you look at her when I am right there, what did she do to deserve your love and attention when I failed to prove myself good enough to deserve them, why won’t you give me another chance, pleasepleaseplease)

(but Yue Qi is unworthy of Xiao Jiu’s love, he only earned a slow and torturous demise when he ultimately couldn’t come back in spite of promising he would do so, he will die like a rabid dog alone in the gutter with nobody to mourn over the corpse and even he cannot deny this will be justice)

« Congratulations to them » Wei Qingwei awkwardly offered, his hands hanging at his sides as if the blacksmith had no idea of their main function.

Liu Qingge frowned, his face stuck between anger and remorse – good, he ought to feel remorseful for driving the Ling Shu Peak Lord into a qi deviation, and Yue Qingyuan would have words with the War God on the matter – Shang Qinghua muttered under his breath too quickly and low for anyone to understand, Fan Qingxing raised an indulgent eyebrow to a lost-seeming Song Qingshi, and…

Qi Qingqi snorted.

« It was time, after Shen Qingqiu dishonoured her. At least he remembered he was supposed to make right by her. »

Yue Qingyuan narrowed his eyes at the female qianyuan, only for Mu Qingfang’s bland tone to ask :

« Is Qi-shimei hinting at improper activities from the sexual bend, when she flings accusations of dishonour towards her shixiong ? »

« They were sharing the same bed, and half-naked » Fan Qingxing chose to intervene, prompting the Ku Xing Peak Lord next to her to redden.

« Since Chen-shijie still has her cultivation intact, this healer can assure you our resident Mistress Alchemist remains a maiden » Mu Qingfang fired back.

Everyone in the hallway blinked.

« … Begging for shixiong’s forgiveness, this one doesn’t understand what he’s talking about » Qi Qingqi intoned.

The physician grimaced, his smell souring the tiniest bit.

« She’s gonna gouge my eyes for that » he muttered before raising his voice : « Chen-shijie is registered as a high-risk patient in Qian Cao’s files, because of the difficulties in handling her treatment if she comes to be injured or take illness. A lot of medicines and drugs have aphrodisiac properties, you see... »

« And ? » Liu Qingge rudely asked. « What does it matter ? »

« It matters because Chen-shijie will physically, mentally and spiritually reject anything forcing lust and carnal desire upon her person. And no, this is in no way a consequence of her cultivation path, she was born a natural eunuch and as such cannot even stand a kiss without feeling violated. If this lowly physician gave her the wrong medicine, her golden core would likely implode, no matter if said medicine merely induces a slight infatuation for the first person seen after ingestion. »

Yue Qingyuan’s breathing hitched.

Well. That was – quite a violent reaction. And rather unexpected too, because one of mankind’s primary drives was the need to fuck, the other being avoiding to be killed. Alright, the Sect Leader had met people lacking in survival instinct, more than a dozen actually and sometimes he wondered if he ought to add the Bai Zhan War God to the list, but someone who didn’t care about sex ? Not at all ?

The qianyuan remembered the slavers running the gang to which Qi-ge and Xiao Jiu had formerly belonged, and pictured their heads exploding in a shower of gore and dark blood as they failed to comprehend the sheer possibility of such a being actually existing in the Three Realms.

Qi Qingqi was gaping, a koi carp lying on the shore and choking on air.

« That’s – that’s not possible » she blustered.

« As much as a boy feeling like a girl » Shi Qingxuan fired back, « or both, or neither. Isn’t that so ? »

« Are you supposed to tell us that ? » Wei Qingwei worried, his eyebrows scrunched under his thick headscarf, and Mu Qingfang let his shoulders sagger.

« The duty of confidentiality is relatively non-negotiable in medical practise, so Chen-shijie likely won’t be happy with me for blabbing about something she considers private, yes. On the other hand, she would be even more unhappy about her martial siblings calling her a slut when she’s unable to handle desire without imperiling her very life and well-being, I daresay. »

« Such a misleading scene, one cannot blame this seamstress for assuming » the Lei Zu Peak Lord groused, her painted mouth pinched in distaste and contrition. « Ah, well, time for this pitiful sister to grovel and wretchedly apologize. Say, Qingxuan-shidi, would a new coat be a suitable bribe for Chen-shijie’s forgiveness ? And also something for Shen-shixiong... »

« This Sect Leader wishes Qi-shimei good luck for when she will explain how sorry she is for the misunderstanding regarding the nature of Qingqiu-shidi and Chen-shimei’s relationship » Yue Qingyuan mildly declared.

The qianyuan female whirled around, her face scrunched in confusion and utter incomfort.

« I wasn’t… how could I have… they never even tried to explain themselves  » she half-heartedly argued, but it was lacking conviction.

The Qiong Ding Peak Lord smiled or more accurately bared his teeth.

« Maybe Qi-shimei should write her apology first, in order to prevent more mistakes, hm ? »

Qi Qingqi quivered in front of her Sect Leader’s serene expression. Good.

Chapter Text

Liu Qingge was a straightforward man.

When he hated someone, he wouldn’t behave as if everything was fine between them. When he considered a course of action distasteful, he would express it. When he stumbled upon a wrong, he would right it. Such was the truth of him.

So when he finally recovered from the shock of learning Chen Qingxu was actually bonded to Shen Qingqiu and it was platonic in spite of everything the other Peak Lords had assumed about the nature of their relationship, his next step had been to plan for a suitable apology gift.

The War God wasn’t good with words, so it seemed the best option : letting his deeds speak in his stead. Maybe he was a qianyuan and a meathead but he was able to provide for his martial siblings.

« … What is that ? » Shen Qingqiu sneered at him from behind his painted fan, his cloth boot slightly kicking the carcass dumped in his garden.

Standing right besides him, Chen Qingxu blinked.

« Well, a-Jiu, this Alchemist thinks it looks like a black sun bear, and such a handsome specimen too. Five years, maybe ? »

She crouched in order to admire the golden stripe across the bear’s chest, and Liu Qingge internally commented people wouldn’t know she was a Peak Lord if they could see her, they would rather believe she was a young boy gawping in front of another man’s hunting trophy.

Fan Qingxing had thrown her old wardrobe to the flames, the War God knew of it because the Zui Xian Peak Lord had giggled a lot over the matter, and replaced it by garments that weren’t so worn one feared to get a glimpse of skin when the wearer was moving. Apparently, the seamstress decided her martial sister needed to pass as a young labourer or retainer to a wealthy household to be neat.

Chen Qingxu was wearing off-white trousers under a knee-length jacket dyed in pale grey with hints of bluish tones, the high collar buttoned at the throat by a small piece of wood painted white and carved to look like a sleeping cat. Her feet were covered by sturdy, wooden clogs, and her hair had been gathered in a messy tail at her nape by a white ribbon – Liu Qingge wouldn’t have noticed her at all in the streets, believing her a young boy buying groceries for his family.

It – suited her in an unexpected way. She looked like herself. Not beautiful – even when she wasn’t stinking of chemicals and had combed her dirty tresses and wasn’t dressed with rags and wasn’t jittery and pale-faced from a week’s worth of nights spent working on some experiment, the Ling Shu Peak Lord would never be considered conventionally attractive as defined by the current era and probably not even in several others, but she was more herself in this boyish, working class attire than in a silken ruqun, her face painted and her wrists clinking with gold and gems.

The Alchemist was petting the dead animal’s fur, humming in a way that sounded quite interested. At least, Liu Qingge hoped she was interested.

« How much bile will this liver yield for me, I wonder… And this lowly Alchemist also wonders why Liu Qingge decided to ruin Shen-shixiong’s carefully tended garden by dropping a dead bear in front of his house. »

Dark brown eyes and vivid green eyes stared at the Bai Zhan Peak Lord, whose neck threatened to flush with burning heat. He swallowed.

« Chen Qingxu. I… believed you were… indulging in carnal pleasures with Shen Qingqiu… when it wasn’t true » he managed to confess. « I come to apologize. »

Shen Qingqiu’s stare and smell were utterly flat, but his mouth was twisted in a disgusted and incredulous frown.

« And for that, you dropped a dead bear in my garden ?! »

« She was in your home » Liu Qingge pointed, « because she needs to stay close to stabilize your bond. It was easier to bring the gift here than let it rot in her lab. »

From the way the scholar glared at him, Shen Qingqiu very much wished for the qianyuan to lay dead at his feet instead of the animal. Liu Qingge stayed as still as possible – when on a hunt, many aggressive prey animals would go berserk at the slightest hint of noise or movement and it could turn very ugly indeed, even for a seasoned hunter with the strength and reflexes granted by the heavily physical cultivation path from Bai Zhan.

Yes, it was the best way to describe Shen Qingqiu, maybe, an aggressive animal and you would never know when this animal would lash out because you couldn’t even rely on your nose, this damn smell just was so flat and colourless…

« And for Shen-shixiong ? »

« What ? »

Chen Qingxu’s mouth was pinched, her eyes slightly narrowed and a hint of burnt in her mulberry paper perfume.

« Liu Qingge aims to buy this Mistress Alchemist’s forgiveness for being an ass and making assumptions, but she wasn’t alone in these assumptions. So ? What did you hunt for Shen-shixiong ? Where is your other bribe ? »

Sometimes in your life, you would feel very small and helpless, as small and helpless as a plump rabbit staring in a hungry tiger’s maw. Liu Qingge miraculously avoided stepping back in front of Chen Qingxu’s inquiry, but his muscles nonetheless twitched.

« … Didn’t know what he would accept. »

It was a wretched excuse, the socially inept qianyuan could hear it, so both the Alchemist and the scholar wouldn’t be fooled for a single heartbeat. Shen Qingqiu haughtily sniffed.

« Nothing is still better than Zhangmen-shixiong’s worthless attempts of buying this one’s attention with gaudy frippery » he claimed and Liu Qingge’s hackles raised as the Sect Leader was insulted, but he couldn’t snarl and call the Qing Jing Peak Lord out for his disrespect, not when he was trying to apologize to the Ling Shu Peak Lord and she would not take kindly to her newly bonded sibling being verbally assaulted right in front of her.

« Liu Qingge can apologize to Shen-shixiong by skinning that bear » Chen Qingxu ultimately decided. « A-Jiu really needs a softer bed and warmer blankets, anyway. »

Both men stared at her. She still was stroking the carcass, her pale fingers almost lovingly contouring the golden stripe lost in the deep black fur.

« This one never asked for a flea-bitten rug to defile his house » Shen Qingqiu blandly declared.

« This is not for your floorboards, this is for your bed. Is a-Jiu so old already, he cannot hear this Mistress Alchemist clearly even when she’s speaking out loud ? How sad » the woman intoned in such a flat voice, it reeked of deliberate mockery rather than a lack of interest for the matter at hand.

« Xiao Mao is around the same age as this master » the scholar fired back, snapping his fan shut. « What does it make you, if I am old ? »

« Someone who will be much happier when she will be a wrinkled old prune, since she doesn’t care about primping herself while a-Jiu cakes makeup on his face for a shichen and a half and won’t leave his house without seven layers of silk and brocade... »

Shen Qingqiu’s fan parted the air as its owner attempted to hit the Alchemist on the head, only for the woman to evade the assault by falling backwards, her shoulder hitting the grass with a soft thud .

« The truth hurts, doesn’t it ? » the Alchemist asked, sprawled as a lazy feline in a sunbeam.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord snorted and turned his back on her. Chen Qingxu raised her head and focused on Liu Qingge.

« What are you waiting for ? This bear is a mite too dead to skin itself, and the more it’s left untouched, the less bile this Alchemist will gather from its liver. »

Well, Liu Qingge could do this. As long as she wasn’t commanding him to do the job with his nails instead of his knife – that would turn the whole endeavour so much messier, and the War God didn’t fancy picking bear guts from his high tail.

No, he had no idea of how it found a way there. Some questions were better left unanswered.

Chapter Text

That was official, Shang Qinghua had utterly lost control over his novel.

Chen Qingxu wasn’t supposed to like his scum villain – like him to the point that she would bond with him, something that would be the equivalent of marriage or sworn siblinghood in a place without ABO dynamics – now the whole trial led by the Huan Hua Palace would never go on the rails ! This fucking train grew wings and flew somewhere over the rainbow with the bluebirds and the alicorns instead of quietly staying on track !

See, Shen Qingqiu was intended to face the jianghu on his own, condemned by his unfortunate past and his crappy reputation among the other cultivators, with none thinking him worthy of protection – alright, Yue Qingyuan would but the Twelve Peaks were aware their Sect Leader was deeply partial to the Qing Jing Peak Lord, and Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t let him help anyway because of the tragic misunderstandings they never truly got to clear between them, so that was it for the Xuan Su Sword – and everyone wanting to watch his humiliation.

But now, there was Chen Qingxu to take in account. Chen Qingxu who didn’t care a whit about keeping her face clean and pristine in front of everyone else. Chen Qingxu who politely listened people telling her why doing that or this would be an horrendously stupid idea and doing it because that was what she wanted to commit. Chen Qingxu who abstained from murdering peasants or cultivators that wore on her nerves merely because it would be tedious to deal with the investigation for murders and she was already guaranteed a legal source of fresh corpses for experimentation so that would be very dumb to jeopardize that.

Ancestors, she would outright set fire to the Huan Hua Palace and strangle the Old Palace Master with his own meridians when Luo Binghe would decide to launch his offensive against his loathed shizun, and she wouldn’t bat an eyelash over the prospect of causing a war in the jianghu and the Demon Realm.

Shang Qinghua kinda wanted to rip his hair in sheer despair, but on the other hand, his original draft for Proud Immortal Demon Way had the Ling Shu Peak Lord deciding to avenge the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect’s destruction by laying low for a century and a half, infiltrating the Protagonist’s palace as a servant – maybe a doctor, Alchemy and medicine rather overlapped and that was impossible for a single healer to take care of three thousands beauties without help – and using her subservient status and the fact that Luo Binghe never met her and would be unable to identify her as a Peak Lord to get close and poison him.

Poison usually was as effective against a Heavenly Demon than oil would be to smother a flame, but Chen Qingxu had been chosen as the Ling Shu Peak Lord for a reason – if someone was able to cook a toxin counteracting Luo Binghe’s blood parasites and wrecking havoc on his unfairly powerful regeneration abilities, that would be the Mistress Alchemist. Also, she would have triggered the dragon vein under the Palace to cause a volcanic eruption, because you could never be too careful when dealing with the Sacred Ruler of Mankind and Demonkind.

Luo Binghe would have survived, of course, because he was the fucking Protagonist and Shang Qinghua’s precious cash cow, but he nonetheless would have been seriously injured in his body and pride, the consequences of his past actions coming back to knock his teeth off and costing him a lot of face and the three quarters of his harem – yes, mass murder wasn’t very nice, but for an exhausted writer who could barely remember the majority of characters he created and barely used them anyway, it was quite an effective way to clean the house.

Airplane ultimately never wrote this chapter, partially because he was too much of a wet hen – hey, even if he maimed his blackened son a lot, the limbs always grew back, so that wasn’t that much of a biggie – and partially because killing Chen Qingxu, the character he wrote for Miss Chu… well, it would have been like killing Mobei-jun, just a bit.

Speaking of the ice demon, Shang Qinghua had finally, finally managed to leave the An Ding Peak – thank you Chen-shijie and Shen-shixiong for drawing all the attention with your dramatic bonding, this overworked logistician will repay you someday – he really needed a break from his martial siblings’ overbearing watch, yes, they only sought to help but there was helping and there was helping and the current circumstances were firmly slotted in the second category !

(besides that’s not like Shang Qinghua deserves their help, what kind of mass murderer deserves his unaware victims’ kindness and mercy)

So the mousy zhongyong was there in the Northern Mountains, his King gave him a pendant that would prevent his subjects from assaulting him on the grounds he was a cultivator roaming on demonic land, but of course you would have some assholes or idiots who thought about breaking their boss’ toy for kicks and giggles, as if Mobei-jun wouldn’t force them to eat their guts for such daring.

Shang Qinghua was sitting alone on a balcony, a heavy woolen overcoat thrown on his shoulders because the Northern Mountains were cold as fuck and his cultivation had limits, looking at the countryside beneath.

Pure white and slate grey and pale blue and warm brown and pine green dotted the land, blurred together by the night fog and the weak light dawning on the mountains, and even Shang Qinghua’s vivid imagination when he still was Airplane had been unable to properly picture the scene of this snowy and stark landscape wakening for another day.

Sometimes, it wasn’t that bad to be an author reincarnated in his own novel, he mused, because he got to see the world he dreamed and wrote in all its glory and beauty.

«  The cold North Wind blows, down falls the snow  » Shang Qinghua absentmindedly sang, and the notes rang in the freezing, still air, «  love me, be good to me, take my hand, go with me, why do you linger so ? Oh, let us go !  »

People talked and wrote a lot about how it must have been for the first human being to open their eyes and marvel at their surroundings, but what about the deity that created this human being ? Did they marvel too, seeing what they crafted with their own hands truly, actually come alive , gain a soul of their own ?

«  The cold North Wind whistles, down whirls the snow… Love me, be good to me, take my hand, go with me, why do you linger so ? Oh, let us go !  »

« Qinghua. »

The mousy zhongyong squeaked and almost fell on his face in his haste to turn around and bow to the ice demon that suddenly and quietly appeared to his back.

« M-my King ! » he choked. « What – what brings you here ? »

Blue eyes – so light a blue they were almost brilliant white – stared at him. Shang Qinghua wanted to curl in a tiny ball and disappear in a mousehole.

« You were singing. »

The logistician blinked. Well. That was… unexpected ? But he did wrote his demons, at least the highborns who had time for hobbies and didn’t need to constantly worry about survival, as somewhat intrigued by human culture, because war and battle refused to let them build their own or destroyed what they attempted to create almost immediately.

« Aaah… this slave isn’t a gifted singer, my King » Shang Qinghua apologized. « And what music he knows, this is the kind one can hear in taverns and fields, it’s not fit for a monarch’s ears. »

The reincarnated author internally wilted a bit as he pictured himself serenading Mobei-jun with his personal rendition of Gathering Plantain . Oh, Ancestors, why did you put this image in his head ? Now it would haunt him !

The ice demon slowly blinked his eyes, looking like a regal snow leopard with his fur cloak.

« Qinghua was singing about snow and the North Wind. If that isn’t fitting for this prince’s ears, then what is ? »

… A good argument, that.

« So… do my King want to h-hear the last part ? »

No verbal answer, not even a grunt, but Shang Qinghua decided that lost for lost, he could as well end the song. And ! Since the Cang Qiong Mountain Peak Lords were paranoid about him being hurt again, the ice demon couldn’t slap him too much if he felt disgruntled !

«  Only the red fox, only the black crow – love me, be good to me, take my hand, go with me, why do you linger so ? Oh, let us go !  »

Mobei-jun listened. Then he blinked again. Then he turned on his heel and walked away in the palace’s hallways.

That was weird. In a different flavour than usual.

Chapter Text

Somehow, Auntie Mao found clothes that weren’t threadbare rags about to give up the ghost from being worn and stained with various fluids and chemicals better left unidentified. Shen Yuan strongly suspected she completed some commission for a noble or another, and was bullied by a-Niang into visiting a seamstress because she would have otherwise wasted every single coin of the reward in books and tools and weird ingredients for her trade – Alchemy wasn’t cheap, you know, even in the ancient xianxia past in which so many animal species weren’t vergering on extinction from being hunted too much.

The reincarnated soul loved his auntie’s new wardrobe – nothing fancy, sturdy pants and jackets and sensible shoes protected by her omnipresent wooden clogs, yet cut from the softest cotton and silk ever, cloth that drank her natural scent like crazy and it was so good to sniff her thick collar and get a noseful of mulberry paper splashed by freshly grounded floral ink.

That was precisely what he was doing right now, and he thought he was entitled to such behaviour – his auntie hadn’t come to visit on her usual day when she made a point of being there right on the clock every time, so when Lin-jie cheerfully announced she finally came, Shen Yuan had jumped and climbed on the zhongyong female and latched on her neck with all the frantic determination of a human-shaped leech possessed by the soul of a spoiled fuerdai that never got refused anything in his two decades of life.

« Auntie is late » he grumped into her nape, and the soft pale skin of her throat rippled as she sighed and patted his back.

« Unfortunately, this Auntie Mao couldn’t escape the clutches of a very noisy healer until now, because he insisted on checking your a-Niang and this Mistress Alchemist bonded without trouble. »

Shen Yuan frowned and craned his neck in order to stare at the female zhongyong with his flattest glare.

« So you finally acknowledged it ? » he asked.

« … There was nothing to acknowledge » she claimed, but she wasn’t looking him in the eyes.

«  Auntie  » Shen Yuan groaned in sheer annoyance, « you and a-Niang were so fucking obvious , you would believe you already signed the laotong contract. »

Seriously, how was it possible for someone to be that blind ? Alright, Auntie Mao was so vocal about her distate for bonding that anyone would suspect the lady from protesting too much, so she likely did her best to close her eyes to reality, and a-Niang was so shy he would constantly hide behind his fan or his sleeves or his veils so he wouldn’t want to consider speaking about the matter because his face was too thin.

Still, that was sad and Shen Yuan hoped none of his own relationships would ever be marred by such awkwardness and obliviousness, either sought after or accidental.

Auntie Mao snorted and pinched his cheek – it completely lacked in strength.

« Shameful little beast, how dare you talk back to your elders ? Truly, this Mistress Alchemist dreads the day you will be old enough to be properly educated. Ah well, that’s for your mother to lament and rip his hair over. »

« A-Yuan is plenty educated ! He’s even teaching Mei-mei how to play the pipa and the dizi and weiqi and xiangqi » the transmigrated soul boasted before remembering it might be a good idea to look happy with the prospect of whoring his body and time to a bunch of lustful pigs with more money than wits. « When is a-Niang sending him to an Immortal Master to learn more ? »

Auntie Mao slowly blinked and stared at him – a piercing, scanning gaze fitting for a stone-carved Buddha analysing every flaw borne by your soul.

« Does a-Yuan wish to pursue the path leading to the silver bridge ? »

« … Maybe not that far » Shen Yuan confessed – he was lazy, he couldn’t lie about it, and it was combined with his utter lack of natural skill for a devastating reality that gave him the tiniest need to weep bloody tears. « But… that would be awesome, to have a sword and to go everywhere in the Middle Kingdom and to meet plenty of weird people and creatures. Don’t you think so ? »

His auntie still was staring at him, her embrace soft yet unyielding as a statue draped with finery.

« A-Yuan would pursue the path of the wandering eccentric, one who cares for nothing but his whimsy. It would suit you… yet this one is unsure about your ability to walk upon this road. Tell me, little one, did your mother tell you about his bloodline ? »

Shen Yuan frowned.

« He’s a courtesan. He has no bloodline, and that means I don’t have one either. »

Who would want to be related to a whore, after all ? A flower plucked by a thousand hands only to be carelessly thrown in the gutter and trampled underfoot because it wilted and its smell wasn’t pleasant anymore ? Such was the reality of this era in which Shen Yuan had been reborn.

As far as he was concerned, Shen Yuan’s family was his mother and all the women who called the Warm Red Pavilion home and Auntie Mao. He didn’t care for faceless people who abandoned their flesh and blood and turned their noses up when a whore or a street urchin was discussed.

« But he does, and so do you, and that’s not a bloodline famed for its cultivation prowess. Might it be… so many qi deviations, after all... »

The Alchemist’s dark eyes were starting to glaze over and her voice was verging on a mumble. If Shen Yuan didn’t immediately reminded her of his presence, she would daydream until someone yelled into her ear for blocking the way and maybe that wouldn’t be enough.

He nipped at her neck, pinching the frail skin with all the meager might of his itsy-bitsy jaw.

« Auntie ! »

« Oh ! » she startled, blinking before focusing on him anew. « Ah, what was I saying ? »

« Something about a-Niang’s bloodline » Shen Yuan politely pointed.

« Yes, not a very good one for cultivation, so a little beastling would very much struggle for building a foundation, and it would be even worse for making a golden core. But this is an extremely potent lineage for when it comes to help someone else to reinforce and strengthen their own cultivation. Since you were raised in a brothel, this Mistress Alchemist doesn’t think she has to explain a-Yuan what dual cultivation is ? »

The transmigrated soul blinked, then it dawned upon him and he immediately shivered from complete and utter disgust.

« I don’t want that ! » he almost screamed, but he tamped down the volume because Auntie Mao was carrying him so her ear was far too close from his mouth, and when you lived in a brothel as a little kid then it was good sense for the clients to never get an inkling of your existence so you couldn’t make too much noise.

His auntie tutted.

« Why do you believe you would have the choice, beastling ? In the jianghu, might makes right, and you likely will never become a very powerful cultivator. If you really want to survive as a rogue element, you need to be quick and swift-witted and never let anyone suspect what kind of secret you’re hiding, because if they know, they will never allow you to escape them. Such a precious, valuable ressource you are, after all, you would have to be consumed as soon as possible. »

Shen Yuan whimpered and buried his face in the female zhongyong’s soft cotton collar, trying to erase these awful words from his brain yet it already was too late, they were embedded deep in his neural matter and he knew they would haunt his nightmares forever, now that he heard them.

« … A-Yuan ? If your Auntie thinks someone is coming after you for that, she will use them as her test subject for her poison recipes, alright ? » a low voice whispered in his hair, and why the fuck would a death threat feel so comforting, that was messed up.

But Auntie Mao felt safe, she smelled safe and grounded and unflappable as a towering mountain in the weak morning light, and so he allowed himself to melt in her embrace.

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu felt a powerful urge to choke Chen Qingxu until her face turned purplish and swollen from the lack of air – an urge he often had to repress when interacting with his so-called martial siblings, and occasionally when he had to interact with officials and noblemen puffed in self-importance and unable to see further than their own nose.

However, he wouldn’t strangle her first because she had mastered Embryonic Breathing and could absorb air through her skin, second because it was in bad taste to assault your bonded sibling immediately after doing the deed – and he wouldn’t fucking cry like a dumb brat as he thought about it, it already had been one week since Chen Qingxu’s qi deviation in the meeting hall, it was more than enough time for the Qing Jing Peak Lord to get over his unwanted sensitivity.

(she’s his sister now, Xiao Mao is his sister and none can claim otherwise, and he wants to scream and he wants to laugh and he wants to sob until his heart bursts, because he was so cold but now he has a sister )

She told a-Yuan about what being a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast entailed. Well, she didn’t actually name the cursed lineage claiming Shen Qingqiu and his offspring as members, but she nonetheless explained the boy that belonging to this bloodline meant a lifetime spent hiding your true nature under pain of being raped until you die, and sometimes even after – who cared as long as the body was still warm, after all ?

He wanted to choke her so much.

« I had to say it » the Alchemist cooly answered in front of the rising inferno of the kunze’s fury. « Your bratling wishes to become a rogue cultivator, did you know that ? And a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast unaware of being one, stranded in a cultivation sect and surrounded by people able to smell the benefits his flesh and cunt would bring to their own golden core – how do you think it would end ? »

He wanted to choke her so much but she was right, and he hated so much that she was right. It was better for a-Yuan’s dream to be shattered before he could be permanently hurt and that would have happened anyway. The world delighted in hurting little children who believed in pretty, shining dreams.

At least, Shen Qingqiu hadn’t been the one to destroy a-Yuan’s naivety and belief in people’s inner kindness – what a fucking lie it was, but such an enduring one even after living in the streets for years, Xiao Jiu ought to really have known better instead of letting himself be surprised by Wu Yanzi – even if he needed to sooth a sniffling, shivering kid clutching his mother’s neck with all the pitiful strength his tiny hands could muster.

A-Yuan was shaking as a leaf in the winter breeze, or a shaved dog pushed in the street right before a snowfall for stealing a dish in the kitchen.

« Niang » the tiny, high-pitched voice whispered, « is that because you are special that you are a flower ? Do people buy a night with you because of… of that  ? »

Oh. That was a pretty good conclusion regarding the Veiled Beauty’s activities and hidden nature. A-Yuan was a smart child, of course he would think that – and that was logical, wasn’t it, for the madam of a brothel to offer exotic pleasures, as long as the customer could pay for it…

« Your Grandma doesn’t know about that  » Shen Qingqiu confessed, his chin laying on the top of his baby’s downy soft hair. « And your jiejies don’t know either. Only your Auntie Mao, and she cheated because she enjoys reading dusty old books in which all kinds of beasts and monsters are described. »

« Not monsters » a-Yuan complained. « I am not a beast, and a-Niang is not a beast, anyone can see that. »

Shen Qingqiu snorted.

« When you have something that other people consider a boon to them, these people will do anything to obtain it. Even passing a law for you to be considered chattel and unworthy of being human. »

The kid hiccuped in his mother’s embrace.

« But… but that’s not alright . »

« That’s how people are. And stop crying so much, hm ? If someone watches my baby crying golden tears, they will think it’s very strange, and they will come because they will suspect a-Yuan from hiding something interesting about his body. »

« Auntie Mao will kill them if they try » a-Yuan whispered, and it sounded like he was reassuring both himself and Shen Qingqiu. « She told me she would poison anyone who would look at us this way. She – she wouldn’t let that happen. She would never . »

Shen Qingqiu would have bitterly laughed once, hearing this desperate trust of a child in any kind of protector. The sooner a brat learned they couldn’t rely on someone else than themselves, the swifter they would become able to survive in the Middle Kingdom – mankind wasn’t gentle no matter how much they claimed to be more civilized and merciful than demons.

It was once. Now…

Now…

(Auntie Mao will kill them if they try)

(she came back when she could have left Shen Jiu and his problems behind her for good, she came back and she stayed in spite of everything and she became Shen Jiu’s sister )

(Shen Jiu never had any luck with men anyway, the most precious shreds and shards of kindness bestowed upon him were always granted by women)

« Yes, she would » he mused. « Then she would use the bodies for experimenting further, because it’s such a waste to bury fresh corpses when physicians and alchemists are constantly begging for more research material. »

A wet giggle in his robes’ collar.

« She totally would. Auntie Mao, she’s kinda mean, you know ? »

« Of course your mother know » Shen Qingqiu snorted. « She’s my sister, so I have to know her. »

Unbidden, a tale from Shang Qinghua – the An Ding Peak Lord had been an outer Disciple then, jittery and drunk on several cups of strong tea and ready to bite someone’s nose off to evacuate the maniac energy possessing him as he was trying to mingle with the other Disciples called to become the Qing generation – rose from the depths of his memory.

So that guy, he falls in a pit, don’t fucking ask why there’s a pit in the middle of the road, maybe some giant boar wanted to ruin the path, but there’s a pit and a peasant falls within. The guy, he screams for help, of course, because nobody wants to be stuck in a hole unless you’re a weirdo.

There’s an official passing by, and the guy screams but the official says he can’t help, he needs to warn the town’s services, and he fucks off. After comes a monk, no I don’t know if the monk is Buddhist or Taoist, shut your trap, and he ALSO says he cannot help but he’s gonna pray for the guy who’s stuck, and he also fucks off.